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Up the Forked River; or, Adventures in South America
Chapter 19
Edward Sylvester Ellis
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       _ CHAPTER XIX
       The American did not reply, but held her gaze upon the little vessel, whose curving to the right might change at any moment; but it kept straight on under the propulsion of the breeze until hidden from sight by the tops of the trees. The three men had certainly approached land, though it could not be said they had left the boat.
       "What do you make of it?" asked Miss Starland.
       "Probably three natives have run to shore for a little while and will soon pass out again and continue on their way."
       "Let us keep watch."
       They did so, and when an hour had passed and the sun was low in the sky, the craft had failed to appear. Far to the westward, a thin, dark, shadowy line lay motionless against the horizon, too far off to be identified.
       "I think it is the smoke of the gunboat," said the Senorita; "General Yozarro means to come to the Castle over the same course we followed."
       They looked long and anxiously, but the horizontal streak of vapor gradually faded without bringing the craft into view. The tug had steamed in the opposite direction, or there had been a change of mind and the fires were banked or allowed to go out.
       Miss Starland was still gazing, hoping and dreading the appearance of the craft, when her friend pressed her arm and asked in a hurried undertone:
       "Do you see him?"
       She indicated a point in the trail no more than a furlong distant, where it emerged around a mass of rocks, between the Castle and the waterfall. The path just there was so narrow as to permit the passage of only a single person or animal. Withdrawing her gaze from the distance, she made out the form of a man, standing at the curve. He was motionless, and evidently studying the Castle.
       His dress and swarthy countenance, plainly visible in the sunlight, showed that he was a native, who, for some reason, felt a peculiar interest in the grim structure. He may have stood thus for some minutes before the Senorita observed him, but he remained for a brief while longer, so stationary that he might well have been taken for a figure of stone.
       "Do you know him?" asked the American.
       "Only that he is an Atlamalcan; he wears the blue jacket; that of the Zalapatans is red,--the two tints being the distinguishing features of their uniforms; you observe he is dressed the same as our guards."
       "Have you ever seen him before?"
       "He is too far off for me to observe his countenance clearly, but, so far as I can say, he is a stranger. I think he is a member of our guard."
       "Why then is he not with them? What is his object in going out there and posing in that way?"
       "I wish I could answer your questions. Perhaps our captain suspects we are dreaming of escape and he has sent out guards to watch the Castle from all sides."
       "It seems more likely to me that he came from the small boat; he may be a messenger from General Yozarro."
       "If so, his action is inexplicable. If a messenger, he would hurry to the Castle and deliver his message."
       "Perhaps he has done so and is going away."
       While all was conjecture, the man moved. It was then noted that he carried no gun though he doubtless had smaller weapons. He turned slowly about, facing the other way, strode a dozen steps or so and then passed from sight. Thinking he might appear again the two watched the spot for the following half hour, during which he was not seen again. Then, looking in the direction of Atlamalco they were unable to detect any trace of the finger of smoke which had faded out and which they thought might come to view again.
       "General Yozarro may have sailed further up the river," suggested the Senorita.
       "What could he hope to accomplish by that, except to run away from General Bambos?"
       "He may turn into the main stream, where it bifurcates, and come down to the junction, when he can steam up to Zalapata."
       "Let us stop speculating about him. Just now I am more interested in the stranger, and, as sure as I live, there he is again!"
       The brief twilight was already closing in, when the form of a man--presumably the one whom they had already noted--came into view at the point where he was first observed. Instead of pausing as before, he continued to advance toward the plateau on which stood the Castle. His pace was an ordinary one, showing neither haste nor hesitation. It was a striking proof of the shortness of the tropical twilight that although the flickering figure steadily drew nearer, it as steadily grew more indistinct. When his head and shoulders rose over the edge of the plateau, it was almost impossible to see his countenance, though no doubt remained that he was an Atlamalcan soldier. A little closer approach and he was hidden from the sight of the watchers in the upper story.
       The interior was now so dark that they descended to where the lamp supported by the bracket at the side of the wall, was lighted. At the same moment, the knock of the servant Juanita sounded, and she brought their evening meal. The Senorita questioned her and she said that a soldier had just arrived and was talking to Captain Navarro of the guard, but she knew nothing of his errand.
       The two friends were in a flutter, and, tarrying only long enough to partake slightly, they hastened to their lookout. They waited and looked for a considerable time, but saw nothing of the stranger in whom they were so much interested.
       When it had become wholly dark, they passed to the living apartment, which was moderately illuminated by the lamp. The gloom outside would continue until the moon appeared, when the light would be as vivid almost as mid-day.
       Suddenly some one knocked on the door. The peculiar sound showed that it was not a servant claiming admission. Senorita Estacardo sprang up, turned the key and drew open the massive structure for a few inches. Then she recoiled at sight of the soldier in the blue jacket standing before her, bowing low with hat in hand.
       After his "_buenas noches_," he uttered the amazing words:
       "I have come for the American Senorita."
       "Who are you?"
       He stepped softly inside, pushed the door shut and placed his finger to his lips as a warning for them to be cautious. The young women were frightened by his presumption, and the Senorita was about to command him to leave, when, bowing low, he handed a slip of paper to her.
       "It is for the other Senorita," he explained.
       The wondering young woman took the paper and handed it to her friend, who had come forward. Moving a little aside, so as to stand under the lamp, she saw her name pencilled on the outside in a familiar handwriting, and unfolding the slip, she read:
       "You can trust the bearer fully; he is our friend; do exactly as he tells you, and do it quickly, for there is not a moment to lose.
       "Jack Starland."
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