You will be challenged if you pass it, so
turn in at the hospital. But do not enter the gates, for the
negroes will overtake you at that point. They will stop to adjust
the saron of the lead horse. That will be your signal; mount him
and ride fast. The Spaniards will fire at you, but if you are hit
one of the blacks will take you on his horse. If one of them is
hit or his horse falls you must stop and take him up. Ride out
half a mile and you will find a band of Insurrectos in the woods
at the right. They know you are coming. Now, adois and good luck."
With a smile and a quick grip of the hand the messenger walked
swiftly away. O'Reilly returned to his hotel.
At last! One week, and this numbing, heartbreaking delay would
end; he would be free to take up his quest. O'Reilly choked at the
thought; the blood drummed in his ears. Rosa would think he was
never coming; she would surely believe that his heart had changed.
As if it could! "O God! Come quickly, if you love me." Well, a
week was only seven days. He longed to risk those Spanish bullets
this very hour.
But those seven days were more than a week, they were seven
eternities. The hours were like lead; O'Reilly could compose his
mind to nothing; he was in a fever of impatience.
Meanwhile, he was compelled to see a good deal of Leslie Branch.
Pages:
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160