tern gate, by which
they had entered the castle. Near it was a room, at the door of which a
number of their companions were standing, guarding the defenders of the
castle, whom they had overpowered. Leaving them there, he passed on,
and, getting over the terrace parapet wall, he descended the cliff with
his burden towards the boat which lay at the foot of it, and to which
the men who had been wounded had been already conveyed. The little boy
was all the time shrieking out most lustily, and desiring to be taken
back to his mamma. Placing the child in the boat, with strict charges
to one of the men who were in her not to let it out of his arms, he
climbed the cliff again with the agility of a cat, and rejoined his
comrades. He addressed them in Spanish.
"My men," he observed, "we have thus far fulfilled our engagement. Now
let us recompense ourselves in case the promised reward should not be
forthcoming."
His proposal seemed to meet with the warm approval of all the party. It
was necessary, however, to leave some of them to guard the prisoners, at
which those who were to be left grumbled much. "No matter," he
observed; "three of you will do, and if any of the prisoners attempt to
escape, shoot them. It is the quickest way of disposing of those sort
of people."
Bertha had lain thus for some time, still grasping the little child, and
in spite of his piteous cries, unconscious of his presence, when she was
aroused by her mistress's voice exclaiming--
"Bertha, Bertha! where is my boy?--where is Hernan?"
"Your boy, Hilda! is he not here?" answered Bertha, scarcely yet fully
aroused. "Is he not here--here in my arms?"
"Here?--no! Where is he? who has him? Give him to me!" exclaimed
Hilda, in a tone which showed the agony of her terror.
"Oh! was it not a dream? Where is he, do you ask? What has happened?
Those men--they bore him away," said Bertha, trying to rouse herself.
"My boy gone? You gave him to them instead of your own," cried Hilda.
"Oh! woman--woman! Did you not know how precious he was to me? And you
let them take him! You should have died rather than allow them to tear
him from you."
"You wrong me, dear mistress," answered Bertha. "They chose yours--they
had come on purpose to get him, for they rejected mine. But have they
gone? Let us follow them: a mother's tears may induce them to give him
back."
"And I have lost all this time!" cried Hilda, putting her hand to her
brow,
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