On Foreign Service; Or, The Santa Cruz RevolutionJeans, T. T. (Thomas Tendron)
General
On Foreign Service; Or, The Santa Cruz Revolution
Jeans, T. T. (Thomas Tendron)
Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Fiction; Seafaring life -- Fiction; South America -- Fiction
’He got me in the stomach, Billums,’ he said quietly.
’Don’t move a muscle,’ I yelled, ’we’ll lift you on the bed.’
As we laid him down very carefully, people came rushing up from down
below to know what had happened.
’Get a doctor,’ I shouted, and I know that I was blubbing like a child.
Dr. Robson of the _Hercules_ came rushing up, and I shall never forget
how we three watched his face as he pulled down Gerald’s riding
breeches, very carefully, to examine the wound.
’When did you have food last?’ he said, and when Gerald answered, ’Six
hours ago,’ he muttered, ’Thank God!’
’What size bullet was it? Show me the revolver.’
Bob brought it. It was a Mauser automatic pistol.
’Well, what’s the verdict?’ Gerald asked quite calmly.
’I can’t say, must get some one else. Don’t move till I come back—not a
muscle,’ and Dr. Robson went away.
Ginger went away too, some one dragged the body out of the room, and
only Bob, white and trembling, with tears running down his face, José,
crouching dumb with grief on the floor, and myself stayed with him.
Oh! that I’d killed the brute when I’d had that chance at San Fernando!
I saw that Gerald was thinking and worrying about something. Presently
he said: ’Billums, old chap, you’ve often asked me why I left the rubber
job; I wanted excitement, and I wanted to see how I could run a
revolution. Well, I’ve run it; I’m the Commander-in-Chief, or whatever
they call it, of the Republic, and this is a great day for Englishmen
out here; we were rather going "under" before the revolution, but now
our chaps are "top of the tree," and an Englishman must be behind de
Costa’s carriage to-day. It’s up to you now, you must take my place.’
’I can’t, Gerald; I can’t really—I can’t leave you,’ I stuttered, half
choking.
He thought a moment, and then went on. ’You must, Billums. You know
the reason. They’re afraid of my men. Once they get into the city with
arms in their hands they may get out of hand at the least thing, they
are so wild and excitable. I am the only one who can control them, and
for them to sack Santa Cruz would spoil all I have done. In my rig, you
will be as like me as two peas, and so long as they think I’m there,
giving all the orders, they’ll obey their officers. They won’t
otherwise.’
Just then there were some firm footsteps outside the door, and General
Zorilla came gently in, in full uniform, covered with medals, his old
war-worn face looking very sad, his thin lips very tightly pressed
together. He smiled at me, and then gripped Gerald’s hand, his stern
old face working strangely. They talked together for a minute or two,
and I knew somehow or other that they were not talking of Gerald
himself.
’Yes, Billums! it’s up to you now. You must get into my ordinary rig
out. Zorilla wants you to do so, too—says it’s the only thing that can
save Santa Cruz.’
’But a great many people will know me!’ I cried.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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