IN THE HANDS OF THE INQUISITION.

We must now move forward for a period of four months, during which time many changes have occurred.

When the men had escaped from the burning cathedral, Cavendish had mustered them in the plaza opposite, and found none missing except Roger and Harry.

These two were great favourites with the ship’s company, and many willing hands had gone back to bring them out of the smoking edifice; but no traces of them could be found. It was then thought that they might have missed their way on the road down from the fort, and search was made in that direction, but without success.

The town was then thoroughly searched, yet the two friends still remained missing. Eventually, therefore, Cavendish was most reluctantly compelled to sail without them, and many were the conjectures as to what fate could possibly have befallen them.

Since that time Cavendish had taken his fleet round the Horn, and sailed up the western coast of Spanish South America, arriving eventually off the coast of Peru. At Callao he had received news that a plate ship was expected to arrive shortly from Manila on her way to Acapulco, in Mexico, and he had determined to waylay and capture her. And, at the date to which this history has now arrived, he had just intercepted and captured her off the Mexican coast, and taken out of her all her vast treasure the finest, richest prize that has ever been taken either before or since. And at this point the exigencies of the narrative demand that he must be left.

Meanwhile, our former acquaintance, Alvarez, whom we lost sight of at the Careenage, had successfully made his way through the Cuban jungle, and, arriving at the port of Matanzas, with the remainder of the men, had sailed thence to Vera Cruz, in Mexico, where he had received a high appointment from the viceroy, which he now held.

De Soto had travelled with him to Mexico, and, for so gallant a gentleman, had been singularly unfortunate. Alvarez had found it impossible to disabuse his mind of the idea that de Soto had the cryptogram in his possession, and, remembering what had been said by him about the Holy Office, had brought the fact before the notice of that body, repeating de Soto’s remarks and denouncing him as a heretic. The unfortunate man was thereupon seized, thrown into prison, and, under the direction of the villain Alvarez, dreadfully tortured, ostensibly to compel him to retract his words against the Inquisition, but really to enable Alvarez to wring from de Soto the cipher, as the price of his release from prison and torture.

The persistent and unwavering assertions of de Soto that he had not the paper, and knew naught of its whereabouts, were received with incredulity, and the unhappy man was tortured again and again to force from him the disclosure of its hiding-place.

The supposed burning of the cathedral at La Guayra had been merely a ruse to get rid of the spoilers. Several of the priests had hit upon the ingenious idea of setting fire to large quantities of damp straw in certain secluded parts of the building, and the smoke, drifting hither and thither through the interior, had caused the English to believe that the place was indeed on fire, and had occasioned their hasty flight. The disappearance of Harry and Roger, on the other hand, was purely due to chance, and had not, as might be imagined, been brought about by design.

The explanation was simple enough. It happened that the paving of one of the aisles had been undergoing repair at the time of Cavendish’s attack upon the town. One of the large paving-slabs was loose, and Harry and Roger, in their haste to escape, had trodden on it, causing it to tilt, and they had fallen into the vault below; their unconscious bodies being soon afterwards discovered by the priests, when the latter went to extinguish the burning straw upon the departure of the raiders.

They were recognised by the priest who had been present in the building during its spoliation, and who had uttered the warning to the sailors; and he hastened to impart the good news that two of the pirate heretics had fallen into their hands. Thereupon the two lads were promptly delivered over to the tender mercies of the Holy Office, who did with them what they would; but their ultimate fate was to be delayed until they should have been publicly exhibited and tortured in every town of importance in New Spain, as an example of what would happen should any heretic ever again dare to set foot upon their sacred territory.

The two poor lads had been branded and tortured publicly in the plaza at La Guayra with every refinement of cruelty that yet stopped short of permanent injury, and thence had been sent to Mexico to undergo similar treatment in its cities; after which they were to be returned to La Guayra to undergo the final punishment of burning alive at an auto-da-fe.

Our next meeting with the two lads, therefore, is as they sit, bowed head on hands, in their small and horribly dirty cell in the building of the Holy Inquisition in the town of Vera Cruz, in Mexico.

They had already been tortured cruelly at La Guayra; but their constitutions were strong and yet unbroken, and the sea voyage from La Guayra to Vera Cruz during which they had been carefully nursed in preparation for the endurance of further torments had done wonders in setting them up again; to such an extent, indeed, that they were now almost their old selves, except for the recollection of their sufferings, which they would never forget, and the scars from the instruments of torture, which would remain with them for the rest of their lives.

This was the first day of their imprisonment at Vera Cruz, they having only disembarked from the ship on that same morning.

They had just partaken of the scanty meal put into the cell by an unseen jailer, and were now occupied each with his own thoughts which were none of the pleasantest as they sat upon two low stones that served for chairs, which, with a larger block of stone for a table, constituted the sole furniture of the cell.

The cell itself was like a tomb. It was about ten feet long by eight broad and twelve high, lit by one small window which looked out on to a dirty, dingy quadrangle, surrounded on all sides by the buildings of the Holy Office. The unglazed window itself was barred up with stout iron bars, which were deeply sunk into the wall, the thickness of which was fully four feet, and much too thick and strong for them ever to dream of breaking through without the aid of tools, plenty of time, and no interruption. The ledge below the grating was foul, and piled high with the accumulated filth of years; and the cell walls were damp and slimy, covered with a growth of fungus nourished by the hot and steamy moisture. The building itself was some hundreds of years old, having been an Aztec temple before the Spaniards had taken it over and adapted it for its present purpose. The cell door, which had been of stone in Mexican times, consisted now of a thick and solid slab of teak, strongly bound with iron, and stout enough to resist the attack of a battering-ram.

Chancing once to glance upward and toward the door having heard some slight sound outside, Roger was just in time to catch sight of an eye a dark, shining, and sinister orb glued to a small hole in the door, which he had not before noticed, and which was apparently covered when not in use for spying purposes. It was evident that a watch, constant and strict, was to be maintained upon them, and that therefore any attempt at escape on their part, which they might be ill-advised enough to hazard, would be discovered at once and promptly frustrated. In fact, it appeared that escape was too absolutely hopeless and impossible to be thought of seriously. As Roger glanced up, the eye vanished, leaving them with the unpleasant sensation of being continually watched.

“We are being spied upon, Harry,” whispered Roger. “I saw an eye at the door just now.” And he indicated the place to his friend.

Harry rose and went toward the door, and as he did so both lads caught the sound of a retreating footstep.

“If we had anything suitable,” replied Harry, “we might close it up. But I suppose it would be quite useless for us to do so; they would only clear it out again, and very likely torture us for our pains.”

“Well,” remarked Roger, “if they do here, as they did at La Guayra that is, always pass our food in through a trap in the wall, and never enter the cell, we might risk doing it and see what happens. They can but open the hole once more. And we can make no plans, nor indeed can we do anything, while we are watched constantly; so we might try it at all events.”

At this moment, as they stood gazing at the tiny aperture, there was a slight click at the back of them, and, turning round quickly, they saw a platter of food and jug of water inside the cell, and close against the wall; but of the aperture through which it had been passed they could discover no trace in that dim light, even after close and careful examination.

“It is as we thought,” said Roger; “it seems to be the custom in these Spanish prisons never to allow the prisoners to see or speak to anyone, even the jailer. You may depend upon it that we shall never have anyone entering this cell until they come to conduct us to the torture-chamber.” And he shuddered; the recollection associated with the word “torture” was exceedingly unpleasant.

“In that case,” agreed Harry, “we will try the effect of plugging that hole, and see what happens. But first we had better take our meal while we have the chance.”

Their dinner consisted of a slab of some kind of coarse, dark-coloured, ill-flavoured bread, and a bowl of maize-meal porridge such as has constituted the staple food of the natives of that part of the world for centuries.

They ate their food, but, hungry as they were, found great difficulty in swallowing the porridge, so exceedingly unpalatable was it.

Hunger, however, provides an excellent sauce, and they managed between them to finish the supply, and then emptied the water pitcher forthwith, as they were very thirsty.

“Now to hit upon a good way to stop up that villainous spy-hole,” said Harry, and looked around the cell for something which would answer the purpose.

They could see nothing suitable until their eyes fell upon the accumulation of dirt upon the window-ledge.

“Ah! I have it!” ejaculated Roger; and, climbing on Harry’s shoulders, he reached down a handful of the dust.

“Now mix this,” he went on, “with that liquor left from the porridge. That contains a good deal of sticky matter, and will make this stuff hold together.”

They mixed the dirt and dust and floury water all together, and, leaving it for a time to harden slightly, found that the mass held fairly firmly together, and might make a reasonably good plug.

“We must, however, wait for darkness, Roger,” said Harry. “If we put this in after dark it will not be noticed until the morning, by which time it ought to have hardened sufficiently to prevent its being pushed out again. If we were to do it now, it would be noticed when our friend the spy comes round for a final look at us, and would doubtless be removed again before it had had a chance of setting.”

Darkness soon fell, and then the two silently and carefully pushed in the already nearly solid plug of earth. They had sufficient to fill the little opening completely, for they heard some of it patter down on to the stone floor outside.

“There,” said Harry, when they had finished, “if they do not find that before morning, it should be hard, and then I doubt whether they will trouble to bore it out again after it has set; but we shall see.”

It was now perfectly dark in the cell, for even on the most brilliant moonlight nights the light could not reach the cell, because of the high walls all round the quadrangle outside, which prevented the rays from streaming in.

Being exceedingly tired, and rather sleepy, the two friends spread their jerkins on the block of stone forming the table, as it was far too damp to lie on the floor, and were soon fast asleep in one another’s arms.

They were awakened the next morning by the sound of the trap shutting after the morning’s supply of food had been put in; and their first thought, before even glancing at the meal, was to see if the plug had been disturbed. To their great joy, so far as they could tell, it had not been touched; and, upon testing it, it proved to be perfectly hard and quite immovable.

“It will take them a little time to get that out, even if they try to do so,” said Roger; “but I trust that they will not attempt it. If they do not, we are at least safe from observation, if not from being overheard. But, to be on the safe side, I think it would be wisdom on our part to converse only in whispers.”

“I quite agree with you there,” replied Harry; “one never knows who may be listening. And now let us turn our attention to breakfast, and see whether we have anything different this morning from that miserable and tasteless meal porridge and black bread.”

They examined the food and found that, this time, instead of the porridge, a bunch of bananas had been provided; but, for the rest, the black bread and water were there as before, and nothing beside.

However, they ate heartily of what they found, and finished it all, feeling much refreshed after it. But ever hanging over them was the black cloud, which they could not forget; the remembrance of the tortures through which they had already passed, and the anticipation of others to follow.

They made a further careful examination of the cell; and this time, by dint of patient search, they located the aperture through which their food was thrust every day. It was constructed with much skill, and only by very close inspection could they make out the small joints indicating the position of the trap. Before they found it, some vague idea had formed itself in their minds of watching for the time when it should be opened to pass in their meals, and endeavouring to scramble through before it was closed again. It was a hare-brained scheme, and would never have suggested itself were it not for the fact that their minds had been persistently dwelling upon the chances of escape, and had become so dulled by long confinement that they were not now so clear as they had been in happier times. A second glance served to prove to them the utter futility of any attempt at escape by that means, as the size of the opening was insufficient to permit the passage of their bodies.

This discovery came as a severe disappointment to them, and they remained for some considerable time sitting on their respective stone stools, a prey to black despair and utter hopelessness.

They were aroused from their dismal reverie by hearing a stealthy footstep approaching the door.

It stopped outside, and, by leaning their heads against the wood-work, and listening intently, they heard a slight creaking sound, as of wood against wood, which, to their now alert senses, indicated that the watcher was gently pushing back the slide which concealed the spy-hole. There was then a pause, and the lads looked across at one another and could not forbear a smile, even in their state of misery and suspense, at the idea of the spy’s astonishment and disappointment at finding all dark when he expected to be able to see into the cell.

Presently there ensued a slight scratching, and they knew that the spy was attempting to remove the obstruction.

Their plug, however, answered its purpose well, and showed no signs of budging.

Then the scratching noise began afresh, and somewhat more loudly, as the man became impatient of the delay, and dispensed with caution. After several ineffectual efforts on the spy’s part the noise ceased, and the stealthy footsteps were heard receding in the distance.

“Well, Roger,” said Harry, when the sound of the spy’s footsteps had ceased, “we got the better of him that time; did we not?”

“Ay,” responded Roger gloomily; “but we must not expect that the matter will rest there. They will be certain to return and drill that hole out again, or make a fresh one, and we are sure to be punished in some way for what we have done either by starvation or torture. I am by no means sure that we were wise in stopping up that spy-hole, or that by doing so we have served any good purpose.”

“Oh, come now, Roger, old fellow, you must not think like that!” answered Harry. “Now that they have seen that we know they watch us, they may not attempt it again; and they would surely not do very much to us for a little thing like that. Besides, it is intolerable to think that we are being spied upon all day long, and that whatever we do or say is known. There would be absolutely no chance whatever of our making a successful attempt to escape at any time if we had not closed the hole. At any rate, it is done now, and it is no good our worrying over it; we must just wait and see what happens. If they are going to make a fresh place of observation, or punish us for what we have done, they will not defer it long; so to-day will, in my opinion, decide the matter. Meanwhile we must wait; and, while we are unobserved, we had better make the most of our time.”

“You are right, Harry, old friend,” said Roger; “but for my part I do not feel much like talking, or anything else. If we had something really useful to occupy us to pass the time it would be different; but as it is, well what can we do?”

“Well, I’ll tell you,” answered Harry. “We will wait for a little while, in order to ascertain whether they mean to do anything about this matter of closing up the spy-hole; and, if no one comes, I think we could not do better than make another attempt to translate that cryptogram of ours. We have made many attempts already, it is true, and it has always got the better of us. But then, we have never, until now, really had the time to spare to attend to it properly. Now would be a very good opportunity; we have plenty of time which drags heavily enough, God knows. This would serve to make it pass; and if we succeed and should be able also to effect our escape we should then be ready to secure that treasure without delay. For although, so far as we are aware, we are the only ones who know anything whatever about the affair, delay is dangerous; someone might easily even get there before us and discover the treasure by accident. One never knows. What think you, Roger?”

“Why, Harry, lad,” said Roger, brightening up considerably, “I think that it’s a very good idea. I am surprised that I never thought of it myself. We had better wait a little, however, and see what happens, before we extract the paper from my jacket; we do not want to be taken by surprise.”

The words were hardly out of his mouth when, from somewhere in the building, evidently some distance away, came a long wailing cry, low at first, then rising gradually higher and higher, until it became a piercing scream the scream of a man in mortal agony.

The long-drawn shriek continued for some moments, and then died down again to a low, moaning sound; then it rose again, and changed into a series of short yapping cries of anguish, almost like the barking of a dog; then it ceased.

“What on earth is that, Harry?” ejaculated Roger, looking at his friend, on whose forehead the cold perspiration was now standing in beads. “What an awful sound!”

“I am afraid, my friend,” replied Harry, “that it means that some poor mortal is undergoing torture almost greater than he can bear. What devils these inquisitors are! If I could but be at the head of a few hundred English seamen at this moment, would I not pull this place of torture about their ears; and would I not put a few of them to the torture themselves, just to teach them by experience what it feels like, and as a warning to the rest! God help that poor wretch, whoever he may be! What a fearful, awful sound it is! This is getting dreadful,” he went on, as another shrill and blood-curdling scream broke on their ears, quavering as it was with the extremity of fearful agony, yet not quite so loud as before, as though the unfortunate individual were losing his strength.

“To be imprisoned here, and not to be able to do anything to help the poor fellow! Oh, they are fiends in human shape!” cried Roger, stamping his foot on the ground in impotent fury.

Then came a sound which made the lads start and look apprehensively at each other. It was the noise of footsteps approaching down the long passage at the end of which their own cell was situated.