Then presently Riveros brought his fist down upon the table with a clatter that made everybody start. "By Jove! young man," he exclaimed, "you shall try your scheme; and if you are successful—of which, however, I have very grave doubts, let me tell you—I believe I can promise that there is nothing that Chili will not do for you. Caramba! but it is a brilliant as well as a daring idea; what say you, gentlemen? Yes, Senor Douglas, you shall have the torpedo-boat Janequeo, and with her everything that you require. As for a crew, I cannot order men to go on such an expedition as you contemplate, but I believe that if you call for volunteers you will get your complement. At least, I hope so, for the honour of the Chilian navy. Now when do you propose to make your attempt?"

"Well, sir," replied Douglas, "I am afraid that I shall require all to- night and all day to-morrow to prepare; but I have very little doubt that I shall be able to make the attempt to-morrow night."

"Very well, then," said the admiral, rising; "I will not detain you any longer, Senor Douglas; for, as you have hinted, you will have a good many preparations to make, and the sooner you are able to carry out your scheme the better."

Jim wished the admiral good-night, and retired to his own cabin to snatch, if he could, a few hours' sleep, which might very possibly prove to be the last he would ever take on earth. He left orders with the sentry that he was to be called at midnight; and accordingly at that hour he turned out, washed and dressed, and then made his way to the magazine, between which and his own cabin, with one or two intervals for meals, he was busily engaged until four o'clock in the afternoon of the next day; hearing all the time the thunder of the heavy guns rolling and reverberating over his head; for during the last few days the Blanco Encalada had herself taken part in the bombardment.

As soon as he had finished his mysterious preparations in the magazine, he went on deck and spoke a few words to the admiral. The latter listened, nodded once or twice, and then gave a certain order to the yeoman of the signals. A few minutes later a stream of brilliant- coloured flags soared aloft into the now fast-gathering gloom; and it would have taken a very sharp eye on shore to discern that the signal was briefly answered by a man on board the Janequeo, who waved a small yellow flag.

In another half-hour it had become too dark to continue the bombardment, and the usual signal of recall was made from the flagship; in response to which the furious cannonading ceased, and the ships drew away over to San Lorenzo Island, where they always assembled prior to going to sea for the night. Then, with the flagship and the Huascar leading the double line, the fleet steamed away into the offing until they were hidden from the sight of Callao behind San Lorenzo Island. But here, in response to a signal, the fleet anchored, thus departing from its usual custom of cruising to and fro during the hours of darkness.

But even before the ships had lost their way prior to dropping their anchors, the Janequeo was seen to sheer out of her place in the line; and presently she raced up alongside the Blanco Encalada, where she came to a standstill. The Blanco's side-ladder was then lowered, and Jim went down it on to the small craft's deck. Then a number of seamen took their places on the accommodation-ladder, one on every step, from the top to the bottom, and a group of Chilians likewise formed up on the Janequeo's deck.

Then a man made his appearance at the Blanco's gangway, carrying something heavy, which he handled with quite exceptional care. This object he handed to the man at the top of the ladder, who passed it to the next man, and so on until it reached the Janequeo, when it was taken aboard and stowed away below with every sign of the utmost precaution. This process was repeated again and again, until a dozen of the mysterious packages had been placed on board; when, in profound silence, the torpedo-boat sped away from the flagship, to visit each of the other craft of the squadron in turn; receiving two men from one, half a dozen from another, and so on, until her complement was complete. All her lights were then extinguished, and she slid off into the darkness without a sound. There was no cheering from the fleet, not even so much as a shout of "Farewell!" but in his heart every man in every ship silently wished success to the daring young Englishman and his crew. The Janequeo was out of sight in half a minute; and when she had vanished the squadron got under way once more, and continued its usual nightly cruise on and off the port; while Admiral Riveros, standing on the navigating bridge, strained his ears in an attempt to catch the sounds which should tell him that Jim's effort had been unsuccessful, and that he and his gallant crew were no more.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

JIM IS TAKEN PRISONER.

Douglas's plan was, indeed, a sufficiently daring one; for he had resolved upon the accomplishment of no less a task than that of blowing into the air every ship in the Peruvian fleet then lying at Callao; and to do this he had been obliged to set to work on quite a new system. The Janequeo was constructed to carry only two spar-torpedoes, and these, of themselves, were quite insufficient for Jim's purpose. For the ships would almost certainly be protected by booms to ward off possible attacks by torpedo-boats; and, should he manage to approach near enough, the young Englishman would need one torpedo to destroy the boom, leaving him but one more with which to destroy the ship it had protected.

But the destruction of a single ship was not sufficient; for to ensure the subsequent success of the Chilian fleet it was imperative that all should be destroyed. The young man had therefore brought along his spar-torpedoes for use if necessary; but he had also manufactured a dozen large bombs which he meant to attach to the ships themselves, afterwards exploding them by means of a time fuse. By doing this he hoped to be able to destroy the whole fleet practically simultaneously; whereas by the spar method, even had he been able to carry a sufficient number of torpedoes, he would have been obliged to destroy them one after another; and of course, after the first explosion, the crews of all the rest would be prepared for him. He also had it in his mind to use the two spars themselves as a bridge, should he find that the vessels were protected by booms. Thus, if he could but attach the bombs undetected, he ought to be able to ensure the annihilation of the entire Peruvian squadron.

But it was a terribly dangerous service that he had undertaken, for he had on board the Janequeo enough explosive to destroy twelve ships, and if but one searching little machine-gun bullet were to strike her cargo—well, there would be an end of Douglas, his crew, and the torpedo-boat together. However, neither he nor the brave fellows with him gave much thought to the danger which they were themselves incurring; their country needed them, and if it must be so, she should have them.

Jim had calculated to the utmost nicety the time which he would probably need in getting through his business, and he had cut each of his fuses to such a length that the bombs should explode, as nearly as possible, at the same instant. If he received no check, and remained undiscovered, well and good; but if he were delayed at all after lighting the fuse, it would be very bad indeed for the Janequeo and her crew.

The wheel was in charge of an old quartermaster who knew Callao Bay as intimately as he did Valparaiso harbour; and as Jim stood beside him in the tiny shelter, watching him peer through the darkness and ever and anon give the wheel a slight turn this way or that, he realised that he had on board most of the elements which go to make up success. Luck was all that was wanting; and, as fortune is supposed to favour the brave, Jim had high hopes of bringing his expedition to a successful issue.

Away through the blackness swept the little torpedo-boat, with not a light showing anywhere on board her. The men had even been forbidden to smoke; and the stokers down below put coal on as carefully as though the furnaces were a lady's drawing-room fire, so that there might be no flicker of flame hovering over the top of the funnel, or even so much as a spark to betray their whereabouts. In a little less than half an hour after leaving the Blanco Encalada the Janequeo sneaked round the south-east corner of San Lorenzo Island, being very careful not to collide with the big buoys which marked each Chilian vessel's moorings. These passed, she slid in between San Lorenzo and Fronton, and entered the Boqueron Passage, coming in sight of the small lighthouse which was, strangely enough, still allowed to show its light at the back of the Dos de Mayo battery. Luckily for the daring little vessel searchlights had not yet come into vogue, or she could scarcely have hoped to escape discovery, for when she crossed the Camotal Bank, previous to turning to starboard in order to run up Callao Bay, she was so close inshore that her crew could plainly hear the shouts of the Peruvian soldiers who occupied the Mayo battery, and who were evidently holding a high carousal. For this circumstance Jim thanked his lucky stars, for there was the less likelihood of any men being on watch; while the noise they were making would prevent them from hearing, as a careful listener might have done, the throbbing of the Janequeo's engines and the churning of her propeller.

Just as they had rounded the point, however, and the boat had turned her nose north-east, the bacchanalian sounds from the battery suddenly ceased, and lights began to flicker among the earthworks. Jim felt his heart stand still, for discovery now would mean the utter ruin of his project, to say nothing of the death of all of them; for a shot from one of those enormous 20-inch guns would send the frail Janequeo to the bottom like a stone, if it chanced to hit her. And evidently the Peruvians in that particular battery had taken alarm at something; for a tiny point of light appeared on the ramparts, and then quickly flared up into a bright blaze. A beacon-fire had been lighted, and at any moment now its glare might reveal the presence of the torpedo-boat to the Peruvians.

Jim immediately passed the word down to the engine-room for all the steam she could carry, and the little vessel's speed at once increased by a knot or two. They were nearly in safety now, being about five hundred yards beyond the point, and a few minutes more would take them under the shadow of the higher ground upon which the Pierola battery was placed, when the glare from the beacon would be unable to reach them. But Jim's great fear now was lest the other batteries also might take the alarm and light their beacons; in which case he could not possibly escape discovery.

By a happy chance, however, the Janequeo glided into the deep shadow, unobserved; and Jim now ordered the speed to be reduced so that the boat should not make so much "fuss" in going through the water, when she stole along at a speed of about ten knots, fifteen being her maximum, of which she was quite capable, as she was a perfectly new boat. The men in Pierola, being half a mile away from the Mayo battery, had evidently not noticed the beacon light, nor were their suspicions aroused, for all was perfectly quiet as the Janequeo crept safely past, with not a light gleaming anywhere in the battery to show that anybody was awake. This battery and the two lying next to it, to the north, had, as it happened, borne the brunt of the fighting that day, and presumably the men were overcome by fatigue. Next, the Torre del Merced and Fort Santa Rosa were safely passed, and the lights of Callao itself swung in sight; the railway station, which lay close to the waterside, was particularly brilliantly lighted, while the sounds proceeding therefrom seemed to indicate that troops were either arriving at, or were being dispatched from, the place.

They were now only about a quarter of a mile from the southern end of the mole, and Douglas passed the word round for his crew to hold themselves in readiness, although the entrance to the harbour where the ships were lying was still half a mile distant, the mole being nearly five hundred yards in length. The queer-shaped bombs were then got up on deck, and Jim busied himself upon the task of attaching the fuses to them. He was obliged to work by the sense of touch alone, as he dared not, of course, use a light of any description. By the time that he had finished his preparations the Janequeo had almost reached the northern end of the mole, and the moment was at hand for the great attempt to be made. Douglas now lessened speed still further, for he did not quite know what shape the defences to the harbour would take. He anticipated that there would almost certainly be a number of floating mines to pass through; and it was more than likely that a patrol of the place might be maintained by launches steaming with their lights out.

A few minutes later the adventurers arrived abreast the northern end of the mole, and were made aware of the fact by a slight diminution of the pitchy blackness caused by the wall of the mole being left on their starboard quarter. The light on the pierhead was, of course, extinguished while hostilities were in progress; for the Peruvians were much too sensible to leave any beacon by which an enemy might easily make the mouth of the harbour. Jim could now see the forest of spars belonging to the ships which he had come to destroy outlined against the luminous haze formed by the lights of the town, although his own little craft was shrouded in dense blackness; and he ordered the man at the wheel to port his helm a few spokes, upon which the Janequeo turned gradually to starboard until she came abreast of the harbour entrance, which was only about two hundred feet in width. He then stopped his engines altogether, and, when the torpedo-boat had come to a standstill, he proceeded to listen with all intentness for suspicious sounds. But everything was as still as the grave, and Douglas began to hug to himself the conviction that events seemed to be turning out fortunately. He could hear no sounds aboard the Peruvian warships; and there was no sign of any patrol launches being about. Having, therefore, taken all the precautions in his power, he started his engines once more and went ahead, dead slow, turning to starboard until the Janequeo's bows pointed straight for the harbour entrance. Nearer and nearer she stole, while her crew waited in readiness for action, every muscle tense and quivering with anticipation and excitement. The bombs had been ranged in two lines of six each, one on the port and one on the starboard side, so that there would be no need to carry them far, whichever side the torpedo-boat presented to the enemy.

She was gliding through the water at a speed of about five knots when, suddenly, there was a slight grating sound, the Janequeo's bows lifted out of the water, and the boat came to a dead stop, with her screw still slowly churning up the water astern. The shock caused some of the men on deck to lose their footing, and the whole row of bombs on the port side splashed overboard as the Janequeo heeled in that direction. In a second Jim was on his feet and, rushing to the engine-room, bade the man in charge to stop his engines. Then he dashed on deck again, half expecting to hear the crash of guns opening fire upon him, while he listened intently in order to ascertain whether his presence had been betrayed by the disturbance.

There was no sound of alarm, however; and Douglas presently realised that, strange as it appeared, the Janequeo was still undiscovered. Then, silently, he and his men set about the task of discovering what had caused the obstruction, and they were not long in finding that a stout chain had been stretched across the entrance evidently to prevent just such an attack as this, and that the Janequeo had run in upon this chain where it "sagged" in the middle, her momentum carrying her right up on to it, for her fore-foot was nearly out of the water. Thus they were in a particularly perilous predicament, for if they were discovered now no power on earth could save them; but Jim was thankful beyond measure that he had not been running in at full speed, otherwise the Janequeo would most certainly have broken her back and sunk on the instant. The loss of half the bombs was very serious too, but he still had six of them left, and if he could sink a ship with each he would not have done so badly on the whole.

The question now, however, was, how were they going to get clear of the chain, and, once clear, how were they going to surmount the obstacle and get into the harbour? But, "one thing at a time," thought Douglas. Let them get off the chain first of all; and that without breaking the torpedo-boat in half or alarming the enemy. He listened again intently for any sound which would indicate that the Peruvians were stirring, and then, hearing nothing, he sent his engines astern at full speed, with the concentrated energy of a quarter of an hour's pent-up steam. The water frothed and boiled under the boat's counter, making, in the intense stillness of the night, such a disturbance that Jim thought it must be heard all over the town; but, although the boat rocked from side to side under the strain, grinding her keel and bilges against the chain, she remained immovably fixed; and Jim ordered the engines to be stopped, feeling that so violent a disturbance of the water must speedily lead to their detection.

Douglas's face became drawn, and his eyes took on a very strained look, as he realised what it would mean if he could not get the Janequeo off; the Peruvians would give very short shrift to a body of men who had been caught in the attempt to torpedo their fleet. Moreover, he had heard certain gruesome stories from the Chilian seamen to the effect that some of the half-caste troops which the Peruvians had with them were rather addicted to the pastime of torturing any prisoners who might be unlucky enough to fall into their hands—a relic, undoubtedly, of the customs of their Indian ancestors.

After the engines had been stopped, Jim called a hasty council of the crew, consulting with them as to what was best to be done. They could not possibly force the boat over the chain, because, even were the engines powerful enough, the Janequeo would break her back in the process.

"If only we had a couple of good strong files we might manage even yet," whispered Douglas, leaning over the side and feeling at the chain. "The links are not more than half an inch thick, and we could soon cut them. Does anybody know whether there are any good stout files aboard?"

As he ceased speaking a man dived down through the tiny engine-room hatch, and presently reappeared, bearing in his hands two large files.

"We have these, senor," he whispered excitedly to Jim; "they were brought on board this morning from the Blanco, when I was doing some repairs to the engines, and I forgot to take them back before we started. How will they do?"

Douglas eagerly seized the tools and ran his thumb along the edges. They were very rough and coarse, being hardly worn at all, and were just what was wanted for the purpose. Given sufficient time, and immunity from detection, the work of getting clear of the chain by filing it through would be easy.

"That's the very thing, El Lobo," ejaculated Douglas in a low voice. "Now, start on the job at once. Let one man cut the upper side of the link, and one the lower, and we shall be free in next to no time. Who will take first spell with me?"

Every man silently held out his hand for the other file, and Jim selected a fellow of herculean proportions to take first turn with him. In a few seconds the low rasping sound of the rapidly moving files broke the stillness of the night, and seemed preternaturally loud by comparison with that stillness. The remaining members of the crew concentrated all their powers in the act of listening, so that they might give instant warning to the workers, should the noise appear to attract any attention from the shore.

Jim and his fellow-labourer were soon bathed in sweat, while Douglas's hands, unaccustomed to such toil, grew red and raw and blistered under the friction; for the files, as is quite usual in engineering departments, were unprovided with wooden handles over the rat-tail shank. Moreover, the task threatened to be long and difficult, in consequence of the awkwardness of the conditions. Jim's spell of work came to an end after a quarter of an hour, however, and another couple of men took their places at the chain. But they had not been working more than five minutes when there was a heavy splash, followed by a cry of disappointment from both men.

It appeared that, while working, the two files had suddenly met in the middle of a stroke, with the result that one of them had been knocked out of its user's hand and had gone overboard. This was a serious loss, indeed, and one that might cost the whole of them their lives; but, as Jim said, it was no use crying over spilt milk, the file was gone, and there was an end of it. The other man must work doubly hard, that was all. Meanwhile, he went down into the engine-room and prowled round to see whether, by some lucky chance, there might not be another file lying about. He was successful in finding a small one, but it was very much worn, and not likely to be of much use; nevertheless, in the hands of a strong man it might still be made to cut a little. He immediately took it up on deck and gave it to one of the crew. To his great relief, he found that one part of the chain was nearly severed. By the time that it was entirely cut through, the lower part of the link was half- severed; and then it was but a short job to completely cut it with the large file.

At length it was done. There was a final rasp of the file, a little snapping noise, a sudden splash as the chain fell into two halves and disappeared below the surface, and the Janequeo dropped back in the water with a loud "squelching" noise.

But they were free! Free at last; though every man on board was trembling like a leaf in the wind under the stress that they had undergone. There was no time for delay, however. Many precious minutes had been lost, and there were all too few left in which to complete the work that had to be done. Jim passed the word once more for steam for five knots, the screw began to revolve, and the Janequeo stole forward again on her errand of destruction. Jim feared that there might be a second chain across the harbour, a little higher up, but the Peruvians had evidently considered the single barrier sufficient, for there were no more booms.

Now he could see the towering spars of two school hulks, and in a few minutes he passed slowly and silently by them, but without stopping. They were old and practically worthless hulks; he would destroy them after he had annihilated the ironclad monsters which were capable of doing efficient work.

With carelessness that amounted to fatuity there seemed to be no watch kept on board the ships, and there were no lights visible. All was as still and silent as the grave. The Union was the next craft in line; she was a gunboat, and had already shewn herself capable of stinging pretty severely, but he promised himself to attend to her on the return journey, and pushed on still farther up the harbour. The ships were apparently all lying on the Janequeo's port side, so it became necessary to shift the bombs over. By the time that this was done Jim saw a dark, shapeless mass looming up in front of him, crowned by one short, squat funnel and one mast; and he knew that he was approaching either the Atahualpa or the Manco Capac, the two monitors which had done so much damage to the Chilian fleet.

Here at last was a foe worthy of attention, and Jim stopped his engines altogether, allowing the Janequeo to slide along through the water by her own momentum. It was a fortunate thing that he did so, for when the torpedo-boat was within twenty feet of the monitor she suddenly collided with a floating wooden boom which had been placed round the ironclad. The impact was very slight, however, and Jim presently had his little craft securely moored alongside. He then got overboard on to the boom, with half a dozen men, and, carrying the bomb gingerly in his arms, and followed by his men bearing one of the torpedo-spars, made his way round to that portion of the timber which floated opposite the ironclad's stern. Jim meant to affix his torpedo to the ship's stern-post, so that, if it did not actually sink her, it might at least blow away both rudder and propeller, and so render the ship useless.

Arrived at the stern, he saw that she was his old enemy, the Manco Capac, and he at once set to work. The men laid the spar down on the boom and pushed it out until one end was touching the Manco Capac's stern-post, the other remaining on the boom. They then lashed the boom- end securely, and Jim, having slung the bomb round his shoulders, started to crawl out along the spar, while the Chilians sat on the other end to make it still more steady.

It would have been a perilous enough journey at any time, but in the dark and with a heavy weight slung round the shoulders it was trebly difficult. Furthermore, the place fairly swarmed with sharks, and Douglas knew what his fate would be should he lose his hold and fall into the water, even if he did not happen to be dragged to the bottom at once by the weight round his neck. Several times his knees or his hands slipped, making the spar quiver ominously, but, fortunately, he retained his hold on the pole, and at last, after many a narrow escape, arrived under the ironclad's overhanging counter.

Here the worst part of his task was over, for he could now support himself by clinging to the rudder, and he soon found a large nut, close to the water's edge, from which he could suspend the deadly torpedo. He quickly unslung it from round his shoulders, and presently had it lashed firmly in position against the curve of the Manco Capac's counter, the lower edge of the bomb being just about a couple of inches clear of the water. He then fixed the fuse alongside the rudder-post, and after listening to hear whether any one was about, he struck a match and applied it to the loose end.

This being the first torpedo, he had cut a length of fuse to burn for two hours, so that he would have time to do all his work and get away before the first explosion occurred, but when the fuse was lighted it seemed to fizz away with alarming rapidity, and Jim was so startled that he nearly fell into the water.

"That fuse will never burn for two hours," he told himself; "there must be something wrong with it, for at that rate it will not last thirty minutes." He therefore made his second journey along the pole at the best speed of which he was capable, and in a couple of minutes was standing on the boom once more. The seven of them made short work of unlashing the spar and getting it back to the torpedo-boat, and the Janequeo was soon under way again and stealing up the harbour once more.

The Atahualpa was the next ship they came to, and to their unbounded satisfaction they found that she was unprotected by a boom. The Peruvians probably thought that a hostile craft would never get so far without being discovered. The Janequeo was therefore run right under her stem, and the torpedo was affixed without any difficulty, a fuse timed for an hour and a half being lighted. This fuse, too, Jim noticed, seemed to be burning away much faster than it ought, but there was no time to watch it, and the torpedo-boat swung off once more on her mission of destruction.

These two craft were, with the exception, perhaps, of the Union, which was a fast ship, the most formidable in the Peruvian fleet, and Jim experienced a thrill of satisfaction at the thought that the Manco Capac and Atahualpa would, at any rate, not trouble the Chilians again. There was another ship lying close at hand, which Douglas judged to be the fast transport Oroya, because of her paddle wheels, and he made up his mind to attend to her before running back to blow up the Union. He selected her paddle-box as the best place to which to attach the torpedo, and as she, too, was unprotected by any boom, he soon had the bomb fixed in position and the fuse lighted.

"Now, men," he whispered excitedly to his delighted crew, "we will run down and attend to the only other ship of theirs which is of any use— the Union. Hard over with your helm, quartermaster, and we will get down the harbour again."

The wheel spun round in Pedro's sinewy grasp, and the Janequeo's nose was presently pointing down the harbour.

"Full speed ahead," Douglas whispered down the tube, "we haven't much time to lose." And the little engines began to throb more rapidly, while the screw thrashed the water up astern. They soon passed the Atahualpa again, and Jim could plainly make out the jumping sparks which came from the fuse and hissed into the water, but the sight was hidden from any one up above by the overhang of the ship's counter, and he felt fairly certain that it could not possibly be discovered before the bomb had exploded and done its deadly work. As they slipped past the doomed monitor Douglas's eye suddenly caught sight of a dark figure with a rifle over its shoulder silhouetted against the luminous haze thrown off by the lights of Callao, and his heart gave a great bound, for the figure had not been there when the torpedo-boat passed up, and she could now hardly hope to avoid detection.

Jim's fears were only too well founded, for the sentry saw the Janequeo as quickly as Jim saw the sentry, and in a second the fellow roared a hoarse challenge across the water, discharging his rifle at the boat as she swept past, without waiting for any reply. And indeed there was no need for him to expect an answer to his hail, for he knew that no boat ought to be cruising about there if she were a Peruvian; while, if she were a Chilian—

The rifle-shot was the signal for an immediate uproar; it seemed as though every man must have been asleep at his post, for the Atahualpa's decks suddenly became literally alive with figures, and rifles began to flash about her in scores, while the bullets pattered round and into the torpedo-boat with most unpleasant accuracy of aim.

"There is no time to destroy the Union now," hissed Douglas between his teeth; "we shall have to be satisfied with what we have already done, and, caramba! we shall be fortunate if we get away with whole skins. Look out, all people with thin skulls; the Manco's people are training her big guns on us! Full speed ahead, below there," he roared, there being no more need now for secrecy; "give her all the steam she can carry, or they will have us for certain."

The screw was already turning at its utmost speed, however, and not another knot could be got out of the flying little steamer; indeed, she was already doing sixteen, or one knot more than they had any right to expect. Just as Jim spoke, a red rocket leaped up into the still night air with a whistling roar, bursting high up in the sky with a shower of brilliant red stars.

"A signal to the patrols in the bay!" cried Jim; and at the same moment the huge 15-inch gun on board the Manco Capac roared out its vengeful message. "We shall have to hurry to get clear now, and no mistake."

The flash of the great gun, fired at such close quarters, nearly blinded the Janequeo's crew, while they were dazed by the hurtling roar of the shell as it sped past, a few feet only above their heads. But the torpedo-boat was now moving very rapidly, and the Manco's crew would not be able to load and fire their stern gun again before she was out of its range; but there was still her bow gun to be feared, and the gauntlet of the Union and the two school hulks had to be run before they could get clear. It looked as if the Janequeo was in for a bad ten minutes; for, after the alarm had been given, it seemed as though every ship in the harbour had lighted her beacon-fire; and Jim could see, by the glare of those which had sprung up aboard the Union and her consorts, that guns, both big and small, had been run out ready to fire into the intruder as she passed; while every vessel's side was literally black with riflemen, all waiting to pour a volley into the daring Janequeo.

Douglas had almost forgotten, in the prevailing excitement, the fact that torpedoes had been attached to three Peruvian vessels, and, in any case, he did not expect them to explode for at least an hour; when, just as the Janequeo had got about fifty yards past the Manco Capac, there was a most appalling explosion from the stern of the latter craft; and Jim, turning round, saw that the air was full of blazing fragments of wreckage, and that, even as he gazed, the great monitor was beginning to settle by the stern. At the moment when the mine exploded, the monitor was just about to fire her 15-inch bow gun; but the catastrophe of course threw everything into confusion, and the weapon, flung from its trunnions in the very act of firing, discharged its deadly missile high into the air, where it exploded, sending out a blaze of flame like a miniature firework display.

"One of them done for, at any rate!" soliloquised Jim through his set teeth, as he bent over the deck-telegraph of the flying boat to ring for yet more speed. "But now they will surely find the other torpedoes and cut them adrift before they have time to explode. Confound those fuses! The wretched things must have perished badly, or perhaps they have been wrongly timed in the manufactory."

The young man had no opportunity, however, for further reflection, for they were now dashing along toward the Union and the other two ships; and after the first shock of terror at the destruction of the monitor, the Peruvians had returned to the guns, and were quite ready to send the Janequeo to the bottom.

"God help us!" murmured the young Englishman; "we shall never get through that tempest of fire; but I am going to try!"

Nearer and nearer they swept, until the torpedo-boat was only a hundred yards away, and then the Union fired her first gun, a large 8-inch rifled weapon, loaded with a shell which screamed horridly as it swept past and plunged into the water just astern. The riflemen raised their pieces, levelled them over the corvette's high sides, and, at the word of command, which all aboard the torpedo-boat could hear, they sent their volleys hurtling aboard that devoted craft. Jim felt a sharp twinge in his left shoulder, and knew that he was hit; two other men fell to the deck, limp as empty suits of clothes. The Janequeo was now abreast the Union, and, as she drew level, the latter ship discharged every gun that she could bring to bear.

It was simply impossible that she could miss. There was a ripping and tearing of iron as the shower of steel struck the torpedo-boat. Both her funnels were blown completely out of her, and the hissing roar of escaping steam, followed by the screams of the scalded stokers down below, told all too plainly that a boiler had been pierced. The quartermaster at the wheel let go the spokes and collapsed on deck, and Jim staggered to the helm just in time to prevent the Janequeo from crashing into the mole. Then, still floating, and with smoke, steam, and flame billowing along her decks and blinding her gallant skipper, the maimed little vessel staggered forward. But escape was not for her. The Union had a smart man for captain, and he did not intend the little Chilian hornet to go clear. The forward 8-inch gun bellowed out, and its shell struck the Chilian fair and square on her stern, exploding as it passed into her hull, and literally blowing the after-part of her away.

Her stern plunged downward; she rolled heavily once or twice, and then turned right over, throwing Jim, in a state of semi-unconsciousness, into the water of the harbour. Then she sank, and the bottom blew out of her as she plunged beneath the surface. At this precise moment, to Jim's fast-failing senses there came the roar of a terrific explosion, followed almost instantly by a second, and he knew that, though his own ship was lost, he had done his duty and succeeded in destroying three of the enemy.

Just as he was on the point of sinking, however, for the last time, a hand shot out, grasped his collar, and hauled him roughly into a boat, while a voice growled out in Spanish, "This is the only one afloat, senor; the rest are down among the sharks, who will not go hungry to- night." Then darkness closed down over Jim's senses, though not before he had realised that he was a prisoner in the hands of his enemies, the Peruvians.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

IN THE FACE OF DEATH.

When Jim recovered consciousness, it was to find himself in a small dark cell, whether on board a ship or on land he could not tell, for there was no window in his prison, and there was not a particle of that motion which he knew there would have been had he been at sea; but he presently came to the conclusion that he must be in one of the "punishment cells" aboard some ship lying in the harbour, for he thought that, now and again, he could hear the faint plash and gurgle of water close at hand, a sound similar to that which he had often heard when down about the bilges of the Blanco Encalada, far below the water-line. He also very soon realised that, in addition to being in prison, he had chains upon his legs, and further, that those chains were fastened to a ring, or staple, set into the wall of the chamber. The poor lad was consumed by a raging thirst, too; while the wound in his shoulder, inflicted either by a bullet or a piece of flying shell, was occasioning him very great pain. If he only had a light, he reflected, things would not be quite so bad, and he rummaged among his pockets in the endeavour to find a box of matches which he knew had been in his pocket when he was thrown overboard off the Janequeo. They were in a tin box, so that it was just possible that the water would not have had time to get to them during the short period of his immersion; and, in any case, as his clothing was very nearly dry again, it was more than likely that the matches would be the same.

After trying several pockets, and discovering that they had already been gone through, and that all articles of any value, including his watch and chain, had been taken from him, he found the box for which he was searching in the hip-pocket of his trousers; and, to his great delight, the wet had not reached its contents. He therefore struck a light, and the first thing his eyes rested upon was a large pitcher of water, and a plate containing a piece of black bread and several slices of pemmican or dried meat. These had been placed close beside him, and he was thankful that he had not accidentally capsized the water-jug in the darkness. He seized and drank at it eagerly, and when he had half- finished the contents he discovered that he was famished with hunger. He therefore struck another match and, by its light, possessed himself of the food, which he proceeded to devour ravenously, and finished off the entire supply before his hunger was satisfied. Having made a good meal, he felt very much better, and then by the light of a tiny fire, made of match-stalks, scraps of straw, and similar odds and ends, he managed, with some difficulty, to strip off his coat and shirt, and to attend, in some small degree, to the wound in his shoulder.

It presented a somewhat inflamed appearance, so he improvised a pad and bandage by tearing strips off his shirt. These he soaked in the precious remainder of his drinking water and wrapped them round the injured part, binding the whole tightly in place with a strip of linen wound right round his body. This having been done, he felt so much more comfortable that he began to think a little natural sleep would do him no harm, and he accordingly composed himself to slumber upon the heap of straw which had been thrown down in one corner of the cell.

How long, he wondered, had he been in this miserable hole? It must certainly have been a good many hours, or he would not have felt so intensely hungry and thirsty; and he also wondered in what ship, if any, he was, and how the Peruvians would treat the man who had blown up three of their finest ships, leaving them only the bare skeleton of a navy.

He did not think very long, however; for he was fatigued to the point of exhaustion, and soon sank into a state of complete oblivion. How long he had slept he could not tell, but he was awakened by the noise of a door opening, and the shining of a bright light full upon his face. Before he could fully collect his faculties the bearer of the lamp, a burly Peruvian seaman with the name Union on the front of his cap, bade him in a rough tone of voice stand up, at the same time producing a key from among a number which hung at his belt and unlocking the young Englishman's irons. As they fell away from his limbs Jim heaved a sigh of relief, which the seaman heard; and hearing, remarked: "You need not be so glad to get them off, you young whipper-snapper; you will be free for only a few minutes, while the captain sees you, and after he has done with you, you will probably be shot—or worse! So you need not look so pleased."

Needless to say, after the communication of this item of information Jim did not feel exactly jubilant; but the fellow, he considered, might only have been speaking thus to vent his ill-will; and in any case Jim was not going to let him see that what he had said affected him in the least. He therefore merely answered: "We shall see what we shall see; fate is fate, and nobody can alter that."

The fellow made no reply in words, but, uttering a raucous laugh, bade Jim precede him out of the cell, and mind that he played no tricks or he would get a bullet through him. Then the seaman locked the door, pocketed the key, and placing his rifle with its fixed bayonet at the "charge," ordered the prisoner to walk on in front, which Jim did; keeping his eyes very wide open, meanwhile, so as to make a note of the position of the cell and its surroundings for possible use on some future occasion.

They first passed along a passage flanked with other cells, similar to Jim's, that in which he had been confined being the last of a row, and then they came to an iron-studded door, which the prisoner was commanded to open. It opened at his touch, and the Englishman and his guard passed through it, finding themselves immediately upon the Union's lower deck. As the Peruvian marine guided Jim through the ship, with the point of his fixed bayonet, the young Englishman took the opportunity to satisfy his curiosity regarding this famous craft—a curiosity which was perfectly natural in view of the fact that he had himself fought an action with her, and chased her while he was in the Angamos. He smiled as his eyes fell upon one of the beams supporting the main deck, for in it were embedded several pieces of shell which the Peruvians had not seen fit to remove; and he knew that they were the fragments of a missile, fired by his own cruiser, which had entered one of the Union's open gun-ports that day of the battle in the Second Narrows.

But his examination of the interior of the corvette was necessarily only a very cursory one, for he was hurried forward by a prod from the sentry's bayonet whenever he showed a disposition to loiter. They presently mounted a ladder leading from the lower to the main deck, walked along the latter toward the stern, and presently Jim found himself outside the door of a cabin in the extreme after-end of the ship, which he shrewdly surmised belonged to the skipper.

The sentry then grounded his rifle, knocked upon the door, opened it slightly, and announced in gruff tones: "The prisoner, sir!"

There was a short pause, broken only by the rustling of papers, and then a low, carefully modulated voice replied: "Bring the fellow in, then, sentry"; and Jim was ushered into the presence of Captain Villavicencio, the famous captain of the Peruvian corvette.

Entering, Douglas found himself in a large and airy cabin, situated in the extreme after-end of the ship, opening on to a narrow gallery running round the stern of the ship, from quarter to quarter. Two tall and narrow doors which gave exit on to this gallery, and which now stood open, disclosed a view of Callao harbour, with the water shimmering in the rays of the newly risen sun, for it was early morning. In the centre of the cabin, which was most luxuriously furnished, stood a magnificent mahogany writing-table, at which sat the man whose name was still ringing through a whole continent. He was an extremely handsome individual, and his enormous proportions were well set off by the dark blue and gold of his naval uniform. He had jet-black curly hair, and a short, pointed beard; while the dark eyes which looked out from beneath thick, overhanging brows, seemed to pierce through and through the individual toward whom his glance was directed. Jim saw at once that this was a man among a thousand, one who would make a name for himself, and come to the front in spite of all opposition. But there was a certain subtle something about the Peruvian which inspired in the young man a feeling almost akin to terror. The eyes, for instance, had a distinctly tigerish look about them, and the man's whole personality was strongly suggestive of a feline nature. Those deep-set dark eyes, Jim knew instinctively, could, at times, flash forth lightnings deadly in their intensity; while that low, purring voice could also take on a note of such deadly menace as would make the hearer's blood curdle. The steel-pointed claw beneath the velvet glove was all too apparent to the young Englishman, and he looked forward to the coming interview with feelings that were anything but pleasant. He felt as though he were in the power of some gigantic cat which might play with him until it was tired of that amusement, and would then turn and rend him. No wonder, he thought to himself, that the Chilians feared this man, and spared no pains in their endeavours to destroy him and his ship.

In response to a wave of Villavicencio's hand, Jim took up a position on the side of the table opposite to that occupied by the skipper, while the sentry posted himself close alongside the prisoner. Then the Peruvian busied himself with some papers for a few minutes, apparently oblivious of Jim's presence. At length, having found that for which he was searching, he glanced up, and his gaze flickered over Jim like summer lightning, inspiring in the young man so strong a feeling of repulsion that it almost amounted to nausea. There was something horribly magnetic in the look, and Jim felt that this man possessed some strange occult power which was lacking in most human beings.

After looking at the young man for a few seconds, Villavicencio turned to the sentry and remarked, "I shall not need your presence, I think, Jacinto. You may leave the room, but post yourself outside my cabin door, and see that we are not interrupted."

The sentry gravely presented arms, and walked out of the cabin, closing the door softly behind him. When he had gone the skipper took up a blank sheet of paper and a pencil, wrote down a few lines on the paper, and then looking at his prisoner, said in a low, purring tone—

"You are the young Chilian naval officer who was in charge of the torpedo-boat which destroyed three of our ships the night before last, are you not?"

Jim replied that he was.

"Well," resumed Villavicencio, "you will be sorry, I am sure, to hear that all your comrades were drowned when the Janequeo—that was the name of the boat, I believe—went down. You are the sole survivor. By the way, how many men had you with you?"

"There were eighteen of us altogether," replied Douglas.

The skipper made a brief note on the paper before him and then remarked softly, "H'm, it is a pity that they were all drowned. I should have much liked to have saved a few more of them."

Although there was absolutely no fault to be found with the sentiment expressed by the captain, Jim felt instinctively that the words possessed a double meaning, and he shivered in spite of the heat of the morning, which was already becoming excessive.

"What is your name, young man?" was the next question, and upon Jim answering, his reply was noted down by his interrogator upon the paper before him. Just as he had finished writing a thought seemed to strike him suddenly and he looked up quickly from the sheet.

"Were you ever on board the Chilian cruiser Angamos?" he inquired, still in the same low and even tones, but with a curious new thrill in his voice.

"Yes," replied Jim, looking him straight in the face, "I had the honour to command that ship upon the occasion when she encountered the Union in the Straits of Magellan. If I remember rightly, the Union did not stay to finish our little encounter."

"Ah-h-h," breathed Villavicencio, through his teeth, "so you were the man in command of the cruiser. I thought you might be when I heard your name, but you struck me as being rather young for the post. By the way, how old are you?"

Jim told him, not without a certain curious sinking sensation about his heart.

"So young as that? Dear me, dear me! it certainly does seem a pity, but it cannot be helped," said the captain. "Your name does not sound like a Chilian one, however. Of what nationality are you, if I may ask?"

"I am an Englishman," replied Jim, "and proud of the fact," he immediately added.

Villavicencio appeared to be sunk in thought for a few seconds, during which he ejaculated "Caramba!" and "Carrajo!" several times. The last item of information seemed to be both unexpected and unpleasant. Presently, however, he muttered to himself, "Well, I don't suppose it matters very much. People are liable to accidents here as well as elsewhere, and if inquiries should be made I can easily plead ignorance. Only, I shall have to alter the method of it. My first idea might possibly attract too much attention. However—I shall see." Aloud, he went on, "Have you any relations in this part of the world, Senor Douglas?"

Inconsequent as the question appeared to be, Jim felt an uncanny, creepy sensation about the roots of his hair, but his voice did not shake as he replied, "No, I have no relations either in Chili or in any other part of the world. I am absolutely alone."

Villavicencio's face at once brightened, and he rubbed his hands, remarking, "Ah! then so much the better, Senor Douglas, for in that case they will not miss you." Then his whole appearance changed, and his voice dropped to a harsh, hissing note as he resumed, "It is a great pity, though, that you are an Englishman, and so well known in the Chilian navy, for that fact prevents me from dealing as I had intended with the miscreant who destroyed two of our ships and seriously damaged a third. But though I cannot punish you as I should have liked, I can and will have you shot, and that immediately, on the deck of my ship, the Union, the vessel which, you so pleasantly remarked just now, ran away from your cruiser and her consort in the Straits."

"But," exclaimed Douglas, in astonishment, "I am a prisoner of war, and I demand to be treated as such. I have done nothing but my duty, nothing to merit death at your hands; and even if I had, I have yet to learn that one man only, even though he be the captain of a corvette, can sit in judgment upon a prisoner and sentence him to death. I am at least entitled to a proper court-martial, if I am to be tried for my life."

Villavicencio laughed. "What you say, my dear young man, is no doubt technically correct; but here might is right, and I will deal with you as I please, as you shall very soon see. Sentry!" he called, suddenly raising his voice and smiling evilly into Jim's face.

For a brief moment Douglas was on the point of leaping across the table and endeavouring to strangle the Peruvian where he sat, and neither the man's sword at his side nor his huge proportions would have intimidated him, but there was that curious look in Villavicencio's eyes which seemed to hypnotise and chain poor Jim to the spot on which he stood. The next second the sentry entered, and it was too late to think about resistance.

"Sentry," said the skipper, "take the prisoner back to his cell, and see that he does not attempt to escape on the way; he looks desperate. When you have locked him up in safety, send Lieutenant Rodriguez to me at once."

Like a man in a dream, Jim marched to the door, scarcely hearing the skipper's sauve voice remarking: "Hasta la vista, Senor Douglas; I will not say adios, for we shall meet again—once more."

The cabin door then closed, and Jim was conducted back to his cell, followed by the curious glances of the men who were assembled about the decks. Once back in his prison, he seemed able to think more connectedly, and he began to wonder whether or not there might be some means of escape from this semi-human creature's clutches. He had done absolutely nothing to merit this threatened summary execution, and he felt convinced that his sentence was simply due to the skipper's own desire for personal vengeance on the man who had made him turn and fly upon that memorable day at the Second Narrows. If it really was so, there was nothing to be hoped, Jim felt, from the man's clemency; for he clearly knew no more of the meaning of the word "mercy" than does an untamed tiger.

Thus thinking, Douglas fell into a deep and gloomy reverie, from which he was aroused by the sounds of footsteps clattering about above his head, accompanied by the occasional clank of arms, and several short, crisp words of command. It sounded as though a body of men had been formed up on the deck above him, and had then been marched off to some other place. In a moment the horrible truth struck him; it was the firing-party which had been told off for his own execution!

That he was right was proved by the fact that he almost immediately afterwards heard footsteps approaching the door and echoing along the passage. There was a rattle of keys, and he was confronted, this time, by two armed seamen, who roughly bade him get on his feet and accompany them. The poor lad was too thunderstruck to move for a few moments, so one of the men prodded him roughly with his bayonet, and again bade him rise. Jim then got on his legs, with the blood streaming from the thrust which had been inflicted in his thigh, and between the two guards he again made his way to the main deck. This time, however, he was not taken so far aft as before, but was conducted up the main companion stairs on to the upper deck.

Having arrived there, the intense light from the brilliant sun nearly blinded him after his imprisonment in the pitchy blackness of his cell; but as soon as he could see clearly he at once perceived, drawn up in single line across the quarter-deck, a body of men armed with rifles, and he knew that this was indeed the firing-party which Villavicencio had promised him. The skipper was nowhere in sight; but the lieutenant, Rodriguez, stood at the end of the firing-line with his drawn sword in his hand. Jim was piloted by his guards past the end of the firing- party and placed with his back against a number of stout planks reared on end, which were there for the purpose of stopping the bullets after they had passed through the young man's body. It was only when the lieutenant came up to him and began to bandage his eyes that Jim recovered from the state of semi-coma into which he had been thrown by the news of his impending execution; but the touch of the Peruvian's hands recalled him to his senses and, flinging the man's fingers aside, he protested vigorously against the gross injustice and inhumanity of the proceeding.

The only answer was a short word of command from Rodriguez, in reply to which the two guards seized Douglas by the arms and pinioned him so that further struggles were impossible. The bandage was then adjusted, and Jim was forced back against the planks. The guards then stood aside; but, Jim's arms being now bound behind him, resistance was useless and escape impossible. Rather, therefore, than engage in a useless and undignified struggle, he determined to put a bold face on the matter, and meet his fate like a man. Accordingly, he stood still, waiting for the end.

He heard the sharp command to load, then to present; and he was nerving himself to hear the fatal word "Fire!" when the voice of Villavicencio broke the intense stillness. What he said Jim did not know, but the command to fire did not come. Instead, the rifles were grounded with a clash, and Douglas heard somebody walking toward him.

Then the Peruvian skipper's voice broke the intense silence. "Take off that bandage," he commanded; and the handkerchief being stripped from Jim's eyes he found himself looking into those of Villavicencio.

"You are reprieved, Senor Englishman," he said; "I have just received a letter which has induced me to change my mind about you. Instead, therefore, of shooting you, I am sending you, together with a number of your comrades, the Chilian officers whom I captured in the Rimac, to the silver mines on the shores of Lake Titicaca. That will, in some sort, compensate me for your insulting remark about the incident in the Second Narrows, for I can promise you that your life, and the lives of your comrades, will be made a very purgatory for you. Shooting is much too easy a death for you, my friend; you will die, all the same, in the silver mines; but the process of dying will be slow and very unpleasant. You will start on your journey to-morrow, senor; and you will have a splendid opportunity to view the beauties of the country, for you will walk the whole distance, which is several hundred miles. And now, senor, I bid you a final adios. Guards, take the man away and lodge him again in his cell. Look after him well; for you will pay for it with your lives if you let him escape. Again, senor, adios!"



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

ON THE ROAD TO SORATA.

It is small wonder that Douglas felt so unnerved by the ordeal through which he had just passed that his brain seemed numbed to such an extent that he scarcely realised what was going on around him. Villavicencio's taunts passed him by almost unheeded, and Jim most certainly did not realise that he was only exchanging a sudden for a lingering death. He was conscious only of the fact that his life had been spared; and he walked to his cell, between the guards, like a man in a dream. It was not until the heavy prison door banged to after him that he really awoke once more to a sense of the reality of things; and, although he speedily realised all that was meant by his being condemned to the silver mines for life, hope sprang up again in his breast. While there was life there was hope; and he would be a poor sort of man, he reflected, if he could not somehow contrive to escape, and that soon, from the terrible captivity to which Villavicencio had consigned him. And further than that, he determined that, once free, he would make the brutal Peruvian skipper pay, and that heavily, for the mental torment to which he had put his prisoner.

To occupy his mind, Jim then began to examine his prison, so far as his bonds would permit him to do so, with the view of ascertaining whether there was any possibility of escape for him; and he came to the conclusion that, though he might possibly manage to break out, if he were given time enough, he would need a very much longer time for the accomplishment of such a task than the few hours which were to elapse before he was to be taken out of the cell and placed among the chain- gang which was to march to the silver mines. No; escape, if escape was to be compassed, would have to be effected while on the march; and Douglas fell to wondering who his companions in misfortune would prove to be, and whether they would be likely to be prevailed upon to join him in a dash for liberty. At any rate, he decided, as he fell asleep, nothing could be done, no arrangements could be made, until he saw the men who were to be his fellow-prisoners. Then, and then only, would he be able to judge whether an escape while on the march would be practicable. Jim sincerely hoped that the captives would prove to be "game" men, for once they had arrived at their destination, the silver mines, there would be very little chance of escape. Their freedom would have to be won while on the march, or not at all.

Thus musing, Jim, overcome by the many and varied emotions of the morning, at length fell asleep; and he continued to slumber peacefully and almost continuously until he was wakened, on the following morning, by the sounds of the clashing of arms and the tramp of heavy footsteps outside his cell door. The young man sat up quickly, feeling much refreshed after his long sleep; and a second later the cell door swung open, a file of Peruvian marines entered the prison, and he was ordered to rise to his feet. His manacles were then unlocked, and, between his two guards, he walked out of his cell for the last time and proceeded on deck. There was nobody there when he arrived, and he was ordered to sit down under the port bulwarks, which he did, with the marines mounting guard over him. But a few minutes later Lieutenant Rodriguez appeared on deck, followed by a miserable-looking squad of half a dozen Chilian officers, among whom Jim recognised one or two whom he knew. They were guarded by a score of Peruvian seamen armed with drawn cutlasses. Jim was then roughly hauled to his feet and pushed into the midst of the new arrivals, who, recognising his uniform, tattered and torn though it was, hailed him as a comrade, and received him with, figuratively, open arms. The seven men were then formed up in line, and their names called out by Rodriguez. When they had answered the roll the Peruvian lieutenant called the sergeant in charge of the guard aside and gave him certain instructions; after which the Chilians were once more formed up in the middle of their escort, and the whole body, prisoners and guards, marched down the sloping gangway which led from the Union's deck to the wharf, and Jim found himself once more, after many weary months, on terra firma.

Still surrounded by their guards, the Chilians marched away along the stone quay wall, and presently, having left the precincts of the harbour, they arrived in the town proper of Callao. There, as soon as they made their appearance, a crowd of roughs surrounded the prisoners and began to deride them and pelt them with such filth and garbage as came to hand. Their destination, Jim discovered, was the Plaza, or great square, of the city, where they were to join the main body of prisoners destined for the mines. For the whole of the way the unfortunate men were in peril of their lives from the ferocity of the mob; indeed, in one instance the crowd made such an ugly rush in its attempt to get at the Chilians, to tear them to pieces, that their guards were obliged to halt, form a hollow square, with their captives in the middle, and repel the attack with their fixed bayonets.

At the moment when the danger was at its worst Jim seized the opportunity to observe the faces of his companions in misfortune, and on only two of them did he perceive any signs of terror; he therefore decided that when making his plans for escape he would take especial care that those two officers were not made acquainted with them, as they would be not unlikely to disclose the plot, hoping that by so doing they might procure their own freedom without the danger involved in fighting for it. The remaining four held their heads high, and looked as though, if only they possessed weapons, they would have been more than glad to take a share in the fight. These were the sort of fellows, Douglas decided, with whom to discuss plans for escape, and he made up his mind that as soon as he could do so without being observed by the guards, he would take them aside with a view to the arranging of a plan of escape to be put into effect before the prison-gang should arrive at the mines.

At length the crowd, finding that the military guard round the prisoners was too strong for it, abandoned its attempt to wreak its vengeance on the Chilians, and finally dispersed. The procession then resumed its march, and a quarter of an hour later arrived at the gran Plaza de Callao, where another depressing sight met Jim's eyes. Round the Plaza now ranged rank upon rank of armed Peruvian soldiers, who were mounting guard over a hundred or more disconsolate-looking Chilian prisoners, who were nearly all manacled, some singly and some in groups. There were present representatives of nearly every regiment of the Chilian army, and naval men of all ratings; and, since the poor fellows had had no change of clothing during their captivity, most of their uniforms were almost unrecognisable. But Jim distinguished among them officers who belonged to the Constitucion and Valparaiso regiments, the Guias, and Grenaderos, together with Carabineros, Lancers, and Rifleros. Most of the naval prisoners were, however, officers; and Jim was overjoyed to see that among these were several men whom he knew, and to whom he determined to make his presence known at the first possible opportunity. The Englishman was at first a little surprised at the preponderance of military over naval captives, until he recollected that some months before, the Union, in command of the redoubtable Villavicencio, had captured the transport Rimac, which was on her way to Arica with troops. These unfortunate men had been subjected to a rigorous captivity in Callao for some months, and had only been taken from prison that very morning in order to march to the still worse fate of captivity in the mines. Altogether there were, with the new arrivals, about a hundred and fifty Chilian prisoners present on the Plaza; and Jim speedily made up his mind that it would be very curious if they could not by some means or other manage to effect their escape while on the road.

The appearance of the naval prisoners from the Union was the signal for cheers from their companions in misfortune, and Jim was speedily recognised by some of the officers near him. The Peruvian soldiers, however, did not seem to relish this manifestation on the part of their prisoners, and several of them ordered the Chilians to keep silent, enforcing the command with savage blows from the butt-ends of their muskets. But at this moment a gorgeously uniformed official rode up on horseback and spoke to the captain in charge of the guard. Jim could not hear what was said, but the official handed the captain a paper, appeared to give him certain instructions, and then galloped off. Captain Veragua—for that, Jim afterwards learned, was the soldier's name—glanced through the paper, and then began to call the roll of the prisoners. Most of them were present; but a hiatus now and again occurred, which was filled in by a voice responding, "Dead, captain!"

This ceremony having been finished, several armourers made their appearance, with hammers and cold chisels, and proceeded to knock off the prisoners' leg-irons, so that they would be able to march. Then the unhappy men were manacled together in groups of a dozen by means of a long chain to which their right wrists were fastened. Jim, seeing that this process was in progress, unostentatiously moved from where he was standing and took up a position in the midst of a number of naval officers whom he knew, and who had already been making covert signs for him to do so. It thus fell out, as he had hoped, that he was manacled to a group of men whom he already knew, and he determined to lose no time in discussing with them plans for a possible escape.

There was no opportunity for that just at present, however; for his group was practically the last to be attended to; and, directly their chains had been riveted on, the whole body was formed up in a solid square. They were then surrounded by the troops, the order to march was given, and the entire company wheeled to the right off the Plaza into the Calle de los Angeles, down which they proceeded at a rapid pace.

The low hum of conversation immediately broke out among the Chilians, and it was not checked by their guards; therefore, although it was impossible at present to discuss anything of a private nature, Jim took the opportunity to ask his friends if they had any information as to the fate in store for them, beyond the fact that they were destined for the mines. He found, however, that the latter fact was practically all that was known. They were to be taken, in the first place, he learned, to the recently erected station at Callao, and then put in the train for Lima. There they were to be imprisoned in the castle for one or two nights, until a second detachment of Chilian prisoners should have arrived from the south, and then the whole body was, as far as could be ascertained, to be marched direct to Sorata by way of Yanyos, Huancavelica, Guantanga, Cuzco, and Santa Rosa. This constituted a journey of some six hundred miles, the whole of which was to be accomplished on foot! Truly a pleasant prospect! But Jim vowed to himself that it would not be his fault if he did even as much as a sixth of that distance before he escaped. He therefore caused the word to be passed round among his fellow-officers, to whom he was manacled, that he wished to have a private talk with them upon the first occasion that offered; and their nods of comprehension assured him that they pretty clearly understood for what purpose the conversation was to be held.

But they had, by this time, arrived at the railway station, and the detachment was halted in the goods-yard just outside. Although regular passenger communication had not yet been established between Callao and the capital, there had been for some time a line of railway for the purpose of carrying merchandise from the coast to Lima; and when the war began this line was seized upon by the military authorities for the purpose of transporting stores and soldiers. A huge, gloomy barrack of a station had been built, together with a number of auxiliary goods- sheds for the purpose of holding the war material; and it was among these sheds that the Chilians found themselves halted. The tedious process of calling the roll was then again gone through, and by the time that that was finished a shrill whistle, accompanied by much blowing-off of steam, and the clank of coupling-chains, announced that the train was being drawn up.

Presently it came in sight round a curve, bumping and jolting over the points, and Jim saw that it was made up of a number of goods-trucks, to which no covering whatever had been attached, so that the unhappy prisoners would be exposed, during the whole of their journey, to the fierce rays of an almost vertical sun, and, as some of the men had already been without water for twelve hours, and there seemed to be no prospect of getting any before their arrival at Lima, it looked as though their journey, short as it was to be, would prove a never-to-be- forgotten one.

The Chilians were now formed up in two long lines, one on each side of the set of metals on which the train was approaching; and, as soon as it steamed into its place, they were ordered to get on board. Manacled as they were in groups of twelve, this was necessarily a very tedious process, and two hours elapsed before the prisoners were all stowed away. It was then found that too few wagons had been provided, and, as there were no more procurable, the consequent crushing was terrible. But it had one advantage, which was, that the Peruvians were obliged to send a much smaller guard of soldiers than they would otherwise have done, for the simple reason that there was no room for more; and, as all the Chilians had now stowed themselves away and it would have taken too long a time to rearrange them, all the guards had to go in the last truck, instead of being distributed all over the train. This gave the prisoners the opportunity that some of them were looking for to have a little private conversation; but there was no present chance of escape; for the Peruvians with their rifles could fire from one end of the train to the other, and thus speedily put an end to any attempts of the sort.

The train was on the point of starting when one poor thirsty wretch began to cry out most piteously for a drink of water; and in a second all the others were also clamouring for some. But the Peruvians merely laughed at their entreaties, telling them that it would do them good to be without for a while, and that they would appreciate their drink all the more when they got to Lima. The signal was then given, the whistle blew, and the melancholy procession moved out of Callao station, to the accompaniment of ironical cheers and wishes for a safe and happy journey from the soldiery and such of the townspeople as had come to witness the departure.

The pace of the train was positively snail-like, and, as the engine had no tender attached, and burned wood instead of coal, the stoppages in order to replenish with fuel were very numerous. At the same time, it being now high noon, the vertical sun streamed down upon the uncovered trucks until they resembled so many ovens. The intense heat, coupled with the inordinate length of time occupied by the journey, reduced some of the prisoners, especially those who had been without water for many hours, to the verge of frenzy. Their supplications for water would have moved the hearts of any but the brutal Peruvian guards, whose canteens were full of spirit and water, and who constantly refreshed themselves therefrom, tortured the thirsty prisoners by holding the water-bottles up to their gaze, and then pouring the contents down their own throats. Gradually a low moan of pain and misery made itself heard in one of the trucks, which soon spread to the others as the miserable men became unable to bear their tortures any longer in silence.

"By Jove!" exclaimed Jim, "this is awful; what fiends these Peruvians are! We have never treated our prisoners of war as these fellows are doing; I wish I had some water to give them, but unfortunately I have none; moreover, I am nearly perishing with thirst myself. Dozens of these men are wounded, you know, Carlos," he continued, to a brother officer who was sitting next to him, "and their sufferings must be awful; some of them will go mad before we get to Lima. Hallo! quick there, stop that man!" he yelled, as a haggard-looking Chilian soldier staggered to his feet, his eyes blazing with insanity.

But Douglas's warning came too late. The Englishman had understood instinctively what the maddened wretch was about to do, and shouted his warning, but the men were packed so closely that there was no opportunity to save him. Before a single individual could rise to his feet the Chilian, manacled by one wrist as he was, had flung himself over the end of the truck and, falling between the metals, was now being dragged along by the train, his shrieks of agony filling all who heard them with horror. The soldier happened to be the end man of his group, and his length of chain was rather longer than that connecting the other members of that particular party; but he had nearly dragged the man next to him to a similar fearful death, for the poor fellow, half crazed with terror, was hanging over the end of the truck with his arm nearly torn from its socket by the corpse trailing on the line. His companions, however, seized him by the body, while several strove to disconnect the chain which fettered him to the awful object trailing beneath the train.

Jim and several others had staggered to their feet and were shouting to the driver to stop the train, but the man was too far away to comprehend what was said. The Peruvians in the last truck, feigning to believe there was a mutiny of the prisoners, and glad of any excuse for cruelty, began to fire into the huddled mass of Chilians, the bullets doing fearful execution at such short range. The officer next in line to Jim fell dead with a bullet through his heart, and pulled Douglas down with him, thereby saving the Englishman's life, for a perfect hail of bullets whizzed into the truck the moment after he fell.

At this moment there was a fearful shriek from the front end of the truck. The body of the man who had committed suicide had by this time been cut to pieces by the wheels, and the loose end of chain had consequently been relieved of the drag upon it and was now lashing about among the wheels. Before the soldier who had been nearly dragged over could realise this and haul up the chain, the swaying end had got entangled among the spokes of a wheel. It was quickly coiled up and broken, of course, but before this happened it had actually torn the unhappy Chilian's hand completely off, and his shrieks would have convinced the Peruvian guards that something was wrong had they been willing to be convinced, and not been too busily occupied in firing into their helpless prisoners.

The maimed soldier had, however, fainted, and he now fell senseless upon the floor of the car, while his companions, unable to assist him, followed his example by lying down, to be out of the line of fire. The Peruvians, however, fired a few more shots into the truck; but since they could no longer see anybody at whom to shoot, they presently tired of their pastime, and laid down their rifles, laughing heartily among themselves at the sport they had enjoyed. Douglas and his fellow- officers heard the raucous sounds of merriment, and each in his heart vowed that, if they lived, they would exact a fearful retribution for the inhuman treatment which they had that day received from their captors.

At four o'clock that afternoon the train crawled and jolted into Lima; the trucks were at once surrounded by soldiery who were waiting for their arrival, and the unhappy prisoners were roughly hauled out and formed up in a square as before. The weary, hungry and thirsty prisoners were hurried off to the castle of Lima, where, in the courtyard, they were given the first food and water that many of them had received for nearly thirty-six hours.

While the starving wretches were refreshing themselves, the gates opened to admit another body of about fifty Chilians surrounded by guards. These were herded in among those who had arrived by the train, and likewise were given food and water, upon which they fell like ravenous wild beasts. After having satisfied his hunger, Jim seized the opportunity to look round him a little. There were now about two hundred Chilians present, and it was evident, from the preparations that were being made, that they were all to be taken to the mines. Even as he looked about him the new force of guards began to form up. There were quite a hundred of them, Jim noticed, or about one to every two prisoners. But the Peruvians were all armed with rifle and bayonet, whereas the Chilians were not; moreover, the guards were free, while the Chilian prisoners were manacled together in groups of a dozen.

Douglas had been led to expect that they would be kept a day or two at Lima, but he now saw that he had been mistaken in his surmise. Apparently the second body of prisoners had arrived sooner than they were expected, and consequently the authorities had decided that all the Chilians should commence their march without delay. The captives were now ordered to stand up, and were formed into one company of five men deep. After this was done a number of Peruvians brought in a couple of wagons, which they at once began to unload, taking therefrom a number of pickaxes and shovels, which were then served out among the prisoners, and each man was given one of each tool. The reason for this, Jim discovered, was that there were not sufficient implements at Sorata to supply the new labourers, so the prisoners were compelled to carry with them the tools wherewith they were to do their work when they reached their destination.

"Carrajo!" exclaimed Douglas under his breath, as he watched his fellow-prisoners shoulder the pickaxes and shovels. "Do those fools of Peruvians know what they are doing? Why, they are absolutely delivering themselves into our hands! I was wondering by what means we should be able to overcome a hundred armed soldiers while on the march, but now that we have got these things it will be easy."

He was aroused from his reverie by receiving a heavy blow on the shoulder and hearing a rough voice exclaim: "Now then, wake up; don't stand there dreaming all day. What are you thinking about? Here, catch hold of this spade and pickaxe; that's your share. Ha, ha! it's a good idea and an excellent joke to make you rascals carry the tools with which we are going to make you work when you reach the mines. That's it; now get into your place, and look sharp; we shall be on the march in a few minutes. I hope your honour won't find the weight too heavy, for you will come off rather badly if you do!"

Jim clutched his tools with the grasp of a drowning man, and there was joy in his heart as he shouldered them, for he did not regard them as tools, but rather as the precious means by which to regain his liberty. Find them too heavy! Well, he rather thought not; he would not part with them, now that they were his, on any account, for a scheme of escape had come into his mind which he believed he could easily put into practice, if he could but secure the co-operation of his fellow- prisoners.

But there was no more time at present for thought; the column was on the point of departure. A bugle rang out shrilly from somewhere in the courtyard; a stentorian voice barked out certain orders, and the Peruvian guards closed up round their captives. Then, just as dusk was falling, the gates were thrown open, and the column of three hundred men marched out of Lima castle into the broad streets, on the road to Sorata.

Nothing could be done that night, Jim decided; and a week elapsed before he could even speak to his companions upon the subject which was uppermost in his mind. Then, one evening, shortly before midnight, when the vigilance of the guards had somewhat relaxed, Jim found his opportunity. He softly wakened the man next to him, and whispered earnestly to him for about ten minutes. The Chilian officer listened intently, and then awoke his companion in turn and passed the idea on to him. Thus the "word" percolated through the sleeping camp, and before morning every one of the Chilians who could be trusted had been informed of Jim's plan, and had agreed to be on the watch for the signal which the young Englishman had promised to give them upon the very first opportunity which presented itself as being likely to promise success.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

THE RED DAY OF CUZCO.

A fortnight had passed since that memorable night upon which Jim communicated his plan of escape to his fellow-prisoners, and still no opportunity had come for the Chilians to make a bid for freedom. For some days after Douglas had communicated with them the weary men had brightened up considerably. The spark of hope which glimmered in the midst of their darkness gave them strength to bear up under their many misfortunes. But as day after day came and went without the signal being given, a dull despair had taken the place of hope, and many a worn-out and soul-sick man fell down in the dusty road, never to rise again. Belonging, as the bulk of the prisoners did, to a southern race, they were very easily cheered up or cast down, and their despair was all the deeper for the short interval of hope which had been given them. The majority of them seemed to have almost resigned themselves to fate, and were looking forward to nothing better than a lifelong captivity in the mines of Sorata. To such an extent, indeed, was this the case that Jim realised that, unless an opportunity should very shortly occur whereby he could put his scheme into execution, his companions would be too profoundly dispirited to attempt to make use of the chance of escape when it should actually arrive. He had told them, however, at the outset that it would be folly to make the attempt while crossing the mountains; for, even should they contrive to get away, they would be in the heart of a hostile country, where they might easily be recaptured. The young Englishman's plan had been to wait until they got farther south, when they would again be comparatively close to the coast, so that they might escape thither and trust to being able to get away in boats. But the long-protracted waiting, coupled with the intense cold which they experienced up among the mountains, was fast taking all the heart out of the prisoners, and Jim saw that unless the attempt were made almost at once everything would be lost.

They were now nearing Cuzco, having travelled nearly half the distance to Sorata, and the weary men hoped to sleep that very night in the ancient capital of the Incas. Jim had managed to interchange a few hasty words about mid-day with the officers of his own group, all men of high courage and of advanced rank, and they and he had come to the conclusion that the escape should be attempted that very night, should they fail to reach Cuzco, or the night after leaving that city, should they happen to arrive there that day. These few were the only men who had retained their courage unimpaired, and Jim felt that he could rely upon them. It would not do, they all decided, to wait any longer; and although Cuzco itself lay among the mountains, it would be better to make the attempt there, and trust to being able to get away to the sea- coast, than be obliged to defer it indefinitely.

The word to be on the watch and ready was therefore passed round immediately after the mid-day halt; and it was astonishing to see how the news brightened up the weary men and made new beings of them. Indeed, Jim almost felt sorry that he had not delayed the message until the evening, for he felt alarmed lest the guards should observe the change and guess at its cause. They seemed, however, to take no notice of it, and the forlorn procession moved forward slowly along the great, dusty road, which had not been repaired since the time of Pizarro's conquest. Hour after hour went by and there was still no sign of the City of the Sun; so that, by the time that four o'clock arrived, Douglas decided that the escape would have to be attempted that very night. Just before dusk the clouds, which had been covering the heavens all day long, broke; the glorious setting sun shone out in all his majesty; and there before them in the distance, some fifteen miles away, his beams fell on the city of Cuzco, gilding and glorifying it until it actually did present the appearance of a city of gold. It was a magnificent sight, and drew an exclamation of admiration and delight from the Chilians, weary as they all were; but they hoped that the view which they had just obtained of the place was all that they would ever see of it—as it would be, if fortune would but favour them that night.