For Love and Glory.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8182, 13 July 1906, Page 2

For Love and Glory.

By St. George Ratlnborne. Author of "Dr. Jack," " The Witch from India,' " Captain Tom," "Mynheer Joe," " Dr. > Jack's Wife," etc., etc.

CHAPTER XXIX.-Continued. Well, the old road, weed-grown in parts and banked by thickets, was not the liveliest place for an evening saunter imaginable. It lokoed like a harbouring place for spooks and snakes, and all such things against which one's nature recoils. Why, Armand had no fancy for it himself, and yet he always believed himself the possessor of a love for -everything bordering on the bizarre. Several times he glanced over his shoulder, to ascertain whether the major and his bully boys were coming. Who oould say what sort of a nest they might be running into? Perhaps Aeuinaldc himself, or bis body guard; there might be a score or two of the rebels, and only ten men in a all to oppose them. Bah! Tbis was no time to think of such things. Somewhere, Armand had read that u mailoss man never asks wirb reference to his foes "how many" but "where are they?" | In good time the others would come up; they could hardly get lost, since there was but the one road, He must look upon himself as the scouting vanguard; perhaps it could not have been arranged better, since the ohnnoes of discovery must have been increased had the whole outfit lurked upon tne suspicious Spaniard's heels. Ht!re was where Armand's extensive hunting experience came into good play, for he bed many a time stalked deer,and knew the thousand and one little tiioks upon which sucuess depends. That Spaniard never once dreamed he was being followed, and least of all by the man be bated above all others on earth. As Armand bad been told the ruined monastery was not a great distance from the railroad, he kept on tho lookout for signs of the building. After doing more <qr lesa of thia scouting business arid keeping his man well in sight, he finally dis covered what they were heading for. Once upon a time the building had doubtless been a majestic pile •of masonry, aud oould stones speak, those crumbling walla would be able to relate some remarkable as well as terrifying things that had come under their observation during the many soore of years the friars had held tbe whole country in their merciless and iron rule., War had surged this way since •the advent of the Americans; rer;baps inaurreotors had taken refuge in the venerable building, for por tions of it had undoubtedly suffered from heavy bombardments, as the .crumbling walls mutely attested. Parts of it still remained intact, ;and the agent at tbe Manila station had informed the major it was being •oared for by a Spaniard and his family, a proud hidalgo who had lost his home at the hands of the fighting forces, and was glad to have even half a shelter over his head. Of course, it was easy to believe he must be in league with the rebels ■who might once have been bis enemies, but could now be taken to his bosom beoauße he hated the Yankees more, When the redoubtable Don Juan <drew near the ruined building, he seemedto display additional caution. Indeed, it might be supposed he was anticipating running across an enemy instead of an ally. Radoliffe could not wonder at his ;actions when he 6aw him survey the ruins from three different quarters, just as if he were a spy sent i nto the enemy's country. "He's evidently afraid some of the boys may have gotten wind of the affair, and be iu wait to bagall comers. They're deuoedly suspicious of everything American these days. It's so different from the game his countrymen put up; they never were known to follow up a victory; with them it was the old slogan of fhit and run,' I've heard upon the baseball diamond so often. Say, there he goes up against it for the fourth time. 1 hope he likes the looks of things, and that this one is a go, By Jove! I'm getting a bit chilly lying here." Senor Juan seemed finally satisfied. Perhaps he had discovered some signal that escaped Armand's eager eye, and which assured him that the coast was clear. At any rate be bustled with eagxerness now, as he approached the ruin. Radoliffe pushed up a little closer, intent upon discovering the place where the Spaniard sought entrance. At this point there was a singular little affair which might be a ohnpeJ of exceedingly small dimensions—perhaps a place of penance during the days when scores of Spanish frihrs resided here, and, ruled the community. Armand called it a sentry box, for, indeed, the whole structure was no larpFTthan an ordinary room in an American dwelling. It bac! a door, which he oould dimly see, the moon facing another angle. Straight up to this sailed Don Juan, with the confidence of one who kn°w what awaited him. It was an ideal place for tbe gathering of conspirators, although the quarters might be deemed rather limited. Taken in all, the mystic moonlight painted everything it touched with a ghostly white, the romantic ruins portly ivy-covered, the solemn silenoe of the night, and the fact that tbe Spanish cavalier had coiie all the way from Manila in obedienise to a telegraphic summons—these - things combined to make Armand' see grand possibilities, and expect all manner of secret signal calls, countersigns and such resoits of vigilance, ere Don Juan was allowed to cross toe threshold. Nothing of thf kind occurred. He went straight up to tbe door, which seemed to open through some unseen agenoy—a band was stretch-

Ed out, and then Juan disappeared, Armand rubbed his eyes. "Sure there's no Arabian Night enohautment business about this; there's the door, but Comrade Juan has vanished.. It opened, sure eaougb, but not a word was spoken. If the ghosts of dead friars were in charge it could not have s beeu done more silently. How many are in there? Perhaps two dozen, waiting to hear what the spy, Juau, has to tell; perhaps Aguinaldn iiimself is there, together with his veteran fighters. 1 wish the major would come along. Once we surround the little chapel, and I wager the man who*gets away will have wings, for we've some dead shot experts with the army revolver among the boysAh! there they come." Along the road dusky figures appeared. Radoliffe was a trifle skeptical, and the danger was too serious to tak« chances, so he gave a low bird-call whistle, which the major and himself had practiced in the seclusion of the soldier's bachelor quarters. To his great satisfaction it was returned, proving his surmiee obrreot. The major was filled with suppressed exoitement, but outwardly appeared as calm as a morning in June. He hoped he was in for great things—to get bis name in the paper as having bagged big game, perhaps reaob the coveted lieutenant colonel's position at a bound. Promotion meant more money and to the army officer that always appeals to the fancy. He told off bis men. In whispers each adventarous fellow was given his position, and also what to do under certain conditions that were apt tu arise. They had been seleoted beoa'use of their possessing suob qualities as appealed to the major's views; all were men whom he personally knew, and who had [possibly been with him on other expeditions where valour and discretion went hand in band. What might happen no one could say. Anything seemed possible. Why, that penance apartment, gardener's lodge, or whatever it represented in the past, might be oramm d full of desperate insurgents, sworn to defend their beloved general with their lives, if need be, and at a signal they might pour forth like a swarm of angry bees. Even such a prospeot did 1 not dismay the major; had he known it to be an aotual J fact, and that three, ay, ten times "their number of rebels crouched back of those , solid walls, yet would he have j gone on in bis preparations to hag ' the, entire lot—the more the merrier. He was a man who never shrank from duty, who believed he could die but once, and when bis time came then would go, not before, j so that, as a fatalist, he: dared any feat that was in the nature to appall an ordinary man. Armand remained close beside him, since they had arranged to share the glory as well as the danger equally. ! Before giving the word that was to serve as a signal for bursting open the door, the cautious major ODce more made the rounds to see that all his men were in their places, and not a possible weak spot remained in the cordon. Armand left at the door, took advantage of the opportunity to lower his head so that his ear was actually against the thick panel. Voices were to be heard, but very faint. How exceedingly cautious these fellows were, to be sure, when it appeared that no enemy might bear them in this lonely, ghost-haunted spot, even if they chose to roar. Well, it would appear that their mission must be all the moire tre mendous to inspire tbem with such remarkabe caution. Armand considered, that they cretainly took the premium for discretion. By aud by the stout major came back. He had managed to carry his sword concealed within a leg of his trousers, and even limped with satisfaoton, knowing it was in a good cause. Now came his hour of triumph. In one hand he held the gleaming blade, while the other grasped a revolver; Radoliffe, obeying orders, bad two of the latter weapons on duty. Their whole appearance was warlike enough to scare an ordinary man half to death, and must, of necessity, mane an impression upon even the desperate fighters of the rebel chief within. "Ready!" said the major, his sword hand clutching the door, which he found to be disengaged. "I'm with you," whispered the other, nerving himself for terrible deeds of valour, tbo rattle of firearms, the smell of burnt gunpowder, the cries of the wounded—in fact, for tho horrors of war. Instead of any further speech, the major acted. (To be continued,)