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Page 34
Just here came an interruption of voices at the door. Hearing them,
del Concha, who had remained silent during the foregoing conversation
and apparently careless of what was said concerning him, uttered a few
hurried words to the General in a low tone, and disappeared behind a
screen that stood close at hand. Directly afterwards a lieutenant and
two soldiers entered with a prisoner, whom Ridge recognized as one of
the ragged Cubans who had escorted him to Holguin.
"General," said the officer, saluting, "I bring a Cuban deserter who
claims to have information of pressing importance that he will impart
to no one but yourself, so I have ventured to intrude; but if it is
your pleasure, I will remove him and seek to extort his secret."
"Oh no," replied the commander; "it is not worth the trouble. Let him
speak, and quickly, for I am pressed with business."
"I come, Excellenza," began the deserter, in a trembling voice, "with
the hope of clemency and a reward, to notify your Excellency that this
se�or"--here he pointed to Ridge--"is not what he pretends. I was of a
band who captured him on the coast, and I overheard his confession to
our leader. From his own mouth, therefore, I learned that he is a spy,
and--"
"An American bearing false despatches," interrupted the General,
irritably. "You see I already know all that you would say. Remove
your prisoner, soldados." Then, in a lower tone to the officer, he
added: "Take him away and dispose of him. Such _canaille_ are as
troublesome as fleas. Immediately upon completing the job you may
return, as I have other business for you."
With a salute, the officer hurried after his men. At the same time del
Concha emerged from his place of concealment, and the General, turning
to Ridge, said:
"You have doubtless noted, se�or, how quickly the information
concerning yourself brought by this gentleman is confirmed. Therefore
you will not be surprised to have me order you into confinement until
your case can be reported to Havana"--at this moment came the startling
sound of a volley of musketry, evidently fired close at hand--"and a
decision concerning it received from the Captain-General," concluded
the speaker, paying no heed to the firing.
As Ridge was about to utter a protest, the officer who had left the
room a minute before, re-entered it, saluted with stiff precision, and
stood awaiting orders.
"Lieutenant Navarro," said the General, "you will remove this
gentleman, who is charged with being an American spy, and bid the
officer in charge of the guard-house hold him in closest custody until
he receives further instructions. Adios, Se�or Remelios. May your
night's rest be peaceful."
Perceiving that resistance or protest would be useless, Ridge passively
allowed himself to be led away. A file of soldiers stood outside, and,
surrounded by these, he was marched to the guardhouse, where, after
being searched and relieved of everything contained by his pockets, he
was led into a bare, cell-like room.
A wooden stool and a heap of filthy straw in one corner constituted its
sole furnishing. Through a grating in the door came the flickering
light of a lamp burning in the corridor, while outer air was admitted
by a small iron-barred opening in one of the side walls some six feet
above the floor. The place reeked with dampness, and, in spite of
these openings, its air was foul and stifling. A few minutes after
Ridge entered it, and as he sat in dumb despair, vainly striving to
realize his unhappy situation, a soldier brought him a bowl of bean
porridge and a jug of water. Without a word, he set these down and
departed.
A little later other soldiers came and gazed curiously at him through
the grated door, always speaking of him as "el Yanko," and making merry
at his expense. Thus several hours passed, and he still sat
motionless, trying to think; but his brain was in a whirl, and he
seemed as powerless to concentrate his thoughts as he was friendless.
He realized dimly that at regular intervals a guard, pacing the outer
corridor, paused before the door of his cell to peer in at him, and so
make sure of his presence; but he paid slight attention to this
official scrutiny.
Suddenly his ear caught a sound strange to that place--a girlish voice
laughing merrily and evidently exchanging brisk repartee with the
soldiers in the guard-room. It was a pleasanter sound than any he had
heard, and he listened to it eagerly. After a little the voice seemed
to draw nearer, and he could distinguish the words, "el Yanko." He,
then, was the subject of that gay conversation. A moment later, from
the same source, came an expression that numbed him with the awfulness
of its possible meaning. "To be shot at sunrise? Poor fellow!" Could
he be the "poor fellow" meant? Of course not; but then he might be.
Such a summary disposition of prisoners was not unknown to Spanish
jailers.
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