Chapter XIII: A Commission

It was high noon when Tim awoke. A breakfast was ready for him; so was his father.

"I am very glad your mother is not with us," said Mr. O'Hagan. "She would have been out of her mind with anxiety about you. Don't you know that a soldier's first duty is to obey? You were sent to scout: you exceeded your instructions, and I am not pleased with you."

"But, Father," said Tim, with his mouth full of beans, "I have often heard you say that a soldier ought to think for himself. Don't you remember saying that a man who has to be told everything isn't much good?"

"That's all very well," said Mr. O'Hagan, feeling himself on slippery ground. "I was referring to officers, as you are perfectly aware. If every private were to think and act for himself it would end in disaster."

"Am I a private?" asked Tim innocently.

"You are a raw recruit, with everything to learn. You are under discipline: remember that."

"I don't think it's fair," said Tim. "Senor Mollendo calls you general; I don't see why I shouldn't be an officer too! You might make me your aide-de-camp, Father."

"You are talking rubbish, sir. Understand me: you must do what you are told, and not go larking about on risky adventures like an irresponsible schoolboy."

Mr. O'Hagan spoke rather warmly. He had passed an anxious night. Secretly he was delighted with Tim's pluck and resourcefulness; but his pleasure was qualified by misgiving as to future dangers into which the boy's love of adventure might lead him. Besides, for his wife's sake he felt it his duty to assume a sternness that was not quite genuine.

"Aren't you glad I got the bike?" said Tim.

"Well, yes, I suppose I am," replied his father. "How did you manage it?"

Here Senor Mollendo entered, and Tim gave the story in Spanish for his benefit.

"I congratulate you, my boy," said the leader warmly, "and you too, senor, on possessing a son who unites courage with ingenuity, and caution with daring. He has twice proved himself more than a match for the enemy, and in recognition of his signal merits and as a mark of my approval I appoint him a lieutenant in the army of liberty."

Father and son glanced at each other. This, coming after their recent conversation, was almost too much for their gravity; they could hardly refrain from laughter. The contrast between Mollendo's lofty manner and his low fortunes was very comical.

"I thank you, excellency," said Mr. O'Hagan, as gravely as he could. "I hope my son will continue to merit your approbation--and mine."

The two men consulted together. The continued presence of the enemy at the Inca camp was disconcerting. By covering the roads to San Rosario and the capital, and restricting the Mollendists to the hills, they put an effectual bar upon recruiting. The northward region, sparsely settled and largely unexplored, was favourable ground for refuge, but for nothing else. A few more stragglers had rejoined their leader; but the recent reverse discouraged any large reinforcement. So long as the little band, now numbering about seventy, was cooped up in the hills, the cause was at a standstill. They might as well give up the struggle.

To approach the town with their present numbers would be madness. They would be opposed by vastly superior forces, and their retreat would be cut off by the Prefect's men at the Inca camp, who themselves outnumbered them by three to one. Yet the only chance of bringing about a general rising against the Prefect was to gain a brilliant success.

The situation of the Mollendists seemed desperate. There was scarcely any food left, either for men or horses, and little ammunition. Only fifty of the men had rifles; the remainder were armed with revolvers and steel weapons of various kinds, most of them rusty. Their attire was equally diversified. Some were clad in the ordinary costume of civil life; a few in the somewhat flashy habiliments affected by professional brigands; some had the parti-coloured ponchos worn by Cholos. There were at least a dozen different styles of hat. They were certainly what Cromwell would have called a "ragged regiment." Mr. O'Hagan felt that in casting in his lot with them he had sprung from the frying-pan into the fire. But he reflected that he had had no alternative; and having accepted the responsibility of organising the paltry army he was bound to make the best of it.

The necessity of securing provisions must be dealt with at once. Senor Mollendo could not offer a practicable suggestion: Mr. O'Hagan recalled Tim's notion of running off with supplies from his own estate, only to dismiss it as impossible of achievement. But Tim here made another proposal.

"Have you got any money, Father?" he asked.

"Not a peseta."

"I have L250," said Mollendo, with a conscious look.

"Let Romana and me go down to his cave in the cliff," said Tim, "and see if we can't get into communication with Galdos. With your money, excellency, he might purchase stores secretly in the town."

"Both Romana and you are marked men," said Mr. O'Hagan. "Anybody else would have a better chance."

"I am sorry to differ from my generalissimo," said Mollendo. "On the contrary, I consider that the excellent qualities already displayed by Lieutenant O'Hagan and Romana are guarantees of success. I give my vote cordially in favour of this admirable proposal."

Tim could not help smiling. He took a mischievous joy in the overriding of his father's views. Mr. O'Hagan might be Cincinnatus, but he was certainly not dictator.

"Galdos will have no difficulty, of course, in buying provisions," he said; "the difficulty will be to convey them to us."

"It is the duty of my adherents to triumph over difficulties," returned Mollendo. "For L30 Galdos will be able to purchase provisions for three days. They will form a comfortable load for two pack-mules. As for the means by which he may secure their safety on the march, that must be left to the caballero's discretion."

"We shall have to do the same thing again in three days," said Mr. O'Hagan.

"Unless, senor general, we should by that time have won a signal victory, which is what I anticipate from your military genius."

"And that will lick old Cincinnatus hollow," thought Tim.

Mr. O'Hagan saw that to oppose the suggestion further would be to risk a loss of the harmony which ought to exist between the civil and military leaders of a community. He therefore yielded gracefully, and bent his mind on the details of the plan. He determined to send out one or two small parties to scout in the neighbourhood of the camp while Tim and Romana went down the river. It was possible that the Prefect's men, having failed in what was no doubt their chief object, the recapture of the prisoner, might leave their present somewhat bleak quarters, and return to San Rosario or San Juan. If it were discovered that such was the case, it would be necessary to advise Tim of it, so that he might beware of stumbling among the retreating enemy. Mr. O'Hagan arranged to do this by lighting a beacon on a prominent hill-top, which could be seen from many miles around. One fire would indicate that the retirement was by the eastern road,--that by which Tim had first been brought to the camp; two fires, some distance apart, that the western road had been chosen. No definite instructions could be given for the guidance of the two scouts: they must act according to circumstances and their own discretion.

There was a whimsical smile on Mr. O'Hagan's face as Mollendo took from a leather case notes to the value of L30, and handed them to Tim. A strange turn of Fortune's wheel, indeed!

Tim left the cave to find Romana, and arrange with him for their expedition. They agreed that they had better not start until evening; they were both tired after the work of the previous night; and an afternoon's sleep would be the best preparation for the task before them.

"I will choose two of the best horses," said Romana.

"We shan't need them," replied Tim. "You can ride behind me on the bicycle."

"But you have no petrol!"

"That is no matter. It is downhill all the way, and if you hold on behind me we shall go more quickly and more quietly than on horseback."

"There is the coming back," Romana objected. "We cannot ride back without petrol."

"True. Your friend Senor Galdos has got to get some petrol. That's part of his job."

"I don't believe there is any in the town."

"Well, if there isn't we must lay up the cycle in your cave until we can get some from San Juan or elsewhere. The machine is no good up here in the hills. We might just as well make what use of it we can."

Romana said no more. Argument was never effective with Tim when he had made up his mind. They slept through the afternoon, and started about an hour before dusk, watched with much curiosity by the motley crew of Senor Mollendo's adherents. As Tim had said, the track ran generally downhill, switchbacking here and there, but most of the ascents being too short to necessitate their dismounting. Occasionally there was a long stretch upwards, where they had to push the machine. On reaching the river they descended the bank and pursued their way along the hard sand. The incline, though slight, was sufficient to keep the wheels rolling, and their progress was so silent that nobody beyond a dozen yards could have detected their presence by the ear.

On approaching the western end of the gully that led up to the camp they kept a wary look-out in the gathering darkness. At this hour it was unlikely that the enemy would be abroad unless they had some definite object in view. They had hitherto shown no evidence of enterprise. The departure of the Prefect seemed to have robbed them of initiative. There was some slight risk of their having discovered the wheel marks of the cycle in the sand if any parties had been prowling in the course of the day. But when the scouts had passed the junction of the river with the cross track in safety, they felt secure. A few miles farther down they left the river and returned to the track. The only danger now was that they might meet some one coming from San Rosario to the camp; but the ringing sound of hoofs on the hard track could be heard for a long distance in the silence of the night, and they would have warning in time to hide somewhere before the riders drew near. In any case it was unlikely that horsemen from the town would choose the longer route.

They had now an easy run down to the spot where the little hill stream cut across the track. Tim could not venture to light his lamp; but the sky was not so dark as on the previous night, and he had no difficulty in dodging the loose rocks which lay upon the track here and there. On arriving at the stream, they dismounted and carried the machine to the cavern. This was the most toilsome portion of their journey; the rest of it had been accomplished almost without exertion.

Romana lit his lamp, and brought out from the cupboard a tin of biscuits and some potted beef. The waterfall gave them drink. As they ate their supper they discussed their plans.

"I will walk into the town to-night, senorito," said Romana, "see my friend, and commission him to buy the provisions. I shall tell him to purchase only a small quantity at any one shop, so as not to awaken suspicion. To-morrow I shall remain secluded in his cottage, and return here with the mules in the evening."

"That's all very well, but what am I to do?" said Tim.

"You will remain here, senorito," said Romana.

"Why should I? I had enough of this cave before. If that's all I'm to do I might just as well have remained in the hills. We were both sent on this job, remember."

"But there would be great danger in your going into the town. It is a needless risk. True, you speak our language perfectly; but your appearance, your complexion, your hair, senorito, are not those of a Peruvian. You would certainly be recognised----"

"So will you."

"Not certainly. In the dark I shall be like any other townsman; and though everybody knows me----"

"Look here, Romana: old Moll--I mean his excellency--made me a lieutenant this morning, and if I choose to say I'll go, and order you to stay here, you'll have to obey."

Romana blinked. But he was very patient with Tim, whom he had known ever since he was a two-years' toddler. He repeated his arguments, and Tim was not so pig-headed as to deny their force, disgusted though he was at the prospect of kicking his heels for a whole day while Romana was doing the work.

"I tell you what," he said at length. "I'll agree to what you propose if you'll try to get me some petrol."

"How can I do that, senorito?"

"You won't leave the town till dusk. Slip up to our place and bring a can from the outhouse. Here's the key. Nobody will be about at that time, and you can come back through the sugar-canes."

"The cans are heavy."

"Well, I'll meet you where the path joins the road to Senor Durand's. There are plenty of trees to hide amongst. I won't leave here until it's getting dark, and I'll keep a good look-out. Between us we can carry a can or two easily."

Romana was not unwilling to make the attempt. He knew the ground thoroughly; it would not be difficult to thread his way secretly through the plantations to the shed, fifty yards in the rear of the house, where the petrol was stored; the sugar-canes grew so high that he could pass among them without any risk of being espied. He agreed to the suggestion, only impressing on Tim the necessity for caution. Then, pulling his hat well down over his eyes, and gathering his cloak around him, he took his leave, and set off on the fifteen-mile walk to the town.