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Search-parties scoured the neighbourhood in all directions, but with no result, and we at last concluded that by some means you had been taken off by ship." "Quite a wrong conclusion," I interposed. "We could think of no other. However, to get on with the story. In the midst of the confusion Barejo turned up on his way back to Lima.
José, I think, felt rather relieved on hearing my news; while Santiago laughed heartily, prophesying that, if the Spaniards were defeated, I should in a few years be king, or at least president, of Peru. "I had no idea," said he, "that you were so important a person. No wonder Barejo wished to keep you shut up!"
"And, of course," continued Santiago, not heeding the interruption, "your father's estates will be among them. Now, as far as I can gather, Barejo thought that by preventing you from joining the rebels something might be saved from the wreck." "That was very kind of the general," I remarked. "I had no idea that he took any interest in my affairs.
Still, as La Hera returns so soon, it will be only a temporary inconvenience, and I'm sure Colonel Miller will treat you well." Santiago laughed. "You will make me fancy soon that imprisonment is a privilege worth paying for," he exclaimed. "Hardly that," I replied; "but, as Barejo said, it keeps one out of mischief."
He was a strong man and a stout swimmer, while for dogged courage I have rarely met his equal. One morning Santiago came into my room or rather his with a troubled expression on his face. I was able to walk by this time, and stood by the little window, watching the soldiers at exercise in the courtyard. "Crawford," said he abruptly, "have you any reason to be afraid of General Barejo?"
His face was tanned and wrinkled, but he held himself erect as a youth; and his profession was most pronounced. The young captain saluted, and, at a sign from the general, left the room. Barejo eyed me critically, and with a grim smile exclaimed, "By St. Philip, there's no need to ask. You're the son of the Englishman Crawford, right enough."
Did you hear the guns last night?" "Yes," said I, wondering. "It was the salute to the general, who is inspecting the forts along the coast." "I have heard my father speak of General Barejo." "Well, after dinner last evening the commandant happened to speak of your shipwreck, and the general was greatly interested.
Of Santiago's information concerning my father I said nothing, though I longed greatly to do so. "I think General Barejo wished you well," she exclaimed after a pause. "He is not of our way of thinking, but he has a kind heart, and he was a true friend to me before these troubles came upon us." "Was he ever friendly with father?" I asked.
I can only tell you he was not slain that day in the mountains. He was dangerously wounded, but was still living when the soldiers carried him away." "Where did they take him?" "That I do not know; neither, I think, does Barejo. Perhaps, and in my opinion most likely, to the forts at Callao." The major's news, as you may imagine, filled me with the liveliest astonishment and excitement.
I was anxious to hear about my mother, but first I told my own story the rescue by the Spanish soldiers, the coming of General Barejo, and the power of the silver key, as also the escape by the underground passage, just as I have related it here. "Barejo's a dangerous man," remarked José thoughtfully. "He'll spend the last drop of blood in his body to keep this country for Spain.
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