CHAPTER XV.

THEY HAVE SET A PACK OF BLOODHOUNDS ON OUR TRAIL.

Howard scarcely dared to breathe as he listened to Captain Nocolo's ominous words. He crouched still closer to the chair as the captain walked to one of the windows to look out.

The head-keeper of the prison had left the apartment at the first alarm, and was now below, leading one party, that was searching the various cells and corridors.

The young war correspondent felt that if he was to escape, the deed must be accomplished quickly. In a few minutes more the entire outer walls of the prison would be under guard.

He gazed at Captain Nocolo and at the open window, longingly. Should he make the attempt. He would!

As stealthily as a cat, he left the vicinity of the big arm-chair, and on tiptoe advanced upon the captain. He was within a yard of the Spanish officer, when the latter turned sharply and confronted him.

"You!" exclaimed Captain Nocolo. He had not time to say more, for Howard leaped upon him, and tried to hurl him to the floor.

A fierce struggle followed, a struggle for liberty or death. The captain was a strong man, and, in peril of his life, he fought madly and long.

But Howard's blood was now fully aroused, and in the end he was victorious. A well-directed blow on the neck stretched Captain Nocolo unconscious.

There was not a minute to spare. Already footsteps were approaching the room. Howard looked eagerly at the weapons hanging upon the walls of the apartment, but he dare not take the time to arm himself. He leaped to the open window, glanced down to see that the coast was clear, and dropped to the ground.

Just as his feet touched the soft earth a shot rang out, and a bullet whistled over his head. A sentry on the prison wall had fired at him. In less than ten seconds it was known that he was outside, and the searchers rushed out pell-mell in pursuit.

The window from which he had effected his escape looked out upon a side street, and down this narrow thoroughfare Howard made his way, running at a greater speed than that shone in the old days of sprinting at college.

A hundred yards were passed, and the young war correspondent espied a fine horse tied to a palm tree in front of a small shop. He jerked the strap clear and leaped upon the animal's back.

"Don't go so fast!" roared a voice from the shop, and a fat planter came out, riding-whip in hand.

"A necessity!" returned Howard. "Here is gold for the horse," and he threw down several pieces. Ere the planter had time to argue the point, Howard had urged the horse forward, out of his hearing. It was a spirited animal, and made rapid progress, and soon the prison was left far behind, and the outskirts of Marambo were reached.

The young war correspondent had no idea where he was going. Every road was strange to him. Yet he knew that he must place many miles between himself and the authorities before he could consider himself even temporarily safe.

A turn in the road Howard was pursuing brought him down into a vale, lined upon each side with palm trees and dense bushes. As he pushed his way along he frequently looked back, but could discover no signs of pursuit.

After an hour's hard riding even the horse showed signs of fatigue. A low cabin came into view, and here Howard dismounted and rapped at the door. A negro woman answered his summons, and readily agreed to sell him something to eat. She had not much to offer, but Howard was voraciously hungry, and ate what there was with a keen relish.

Once more he set out, and soon the end of the valley was reached, and he began to ascend a hill. Beyond Howard could see a long, flat stretch of country, but before this could be reached the horse without warning plunged one leg into a large ant nest, or hole, and sank to the earth in a heap, uttering a sharp cry of pain as it rolled over, which told only too plainly of a broken leg.

Howard quickly realized that he must now continue his flight on foot. The horse was worse than useless, and, to put him out of his suffering, the young war correspondent considerately ended his life. Then he went on, along a foot-path at the brow of the hill, until, fatigued to the last degree, he halted near some flat rocks, and sat down to rest.

Presently, the murmur of voices broke upon his ear. He listened but for a moment, then sprang to his feet in amazement.

"You must write the letter, my dear lady, or all will not be well with you," came in a rough Spanish voice. "We must have gold, or you shall never see home and friends again."

"You are a villain!" came in the sweet, but indignant voice of Estella. "I will not write for you."

"Then you'll take the consequences, miss. We gipsies know how to bring obstinate people to terms. We have wasted too much time on you. Write at once."

A spell of silence followed. Howard stepped forward to learn whence the voices proceeded.

"Help! help!" suddenly cried Estella, in a voice that caused Howard's blood to boil in his veins. "Father in heaven! will nobody aid me?"

"Unhand her, you rascal!" came in a commanding voice from Howard, as he appeared at the mouth of the cave in which Estella was confined, and then darted toward the gipsy who held her in his loathsome arms.

"Howard!" gasped Estella, in joy. "Oh, save me! save me!"

"Fear not, my darling, I will!" he ejaculated; and leaping upon the gipsy he clutched him with a grasp of iron, and hurled him with great force against the rocks. The shock made the rascal's bones fairly crack, and he muttered a coarse oath as he plunged his hand into his bosom to draw his dagger.

"None of that!" commanded Howard. "Up with your hands, quick!"

Thinking Howard would shoot him, the gipsy raised his hands. Like a flash the young war correspondent tripped him up, and took his dagger from him. A pistol fell to the floor of the cave, and this Howard also secured.

"Is this man alone, Estella?" Howard asked.

"Just now he is. He had several companions, but they have gone away on some mission."

"How came you to fall into their hands?" he went on, and, blushing sweetly, she told him of how she had left home to search him out in his prison. She also told how she had been robbed, and said the rascal on the floor had the stolen articles.

"Hand them over!" said Howard, sternly, and when this was done he made the man get up, and actually kicked him out of the place, watching him closely until a distant bend in the foot-path hid him from view.

"Oh, Howard, you cannot imagine how glad I am that you have escaped!" exclaimed Estella, a happy light coming into her soft eyes as she bent them full upon his smiling face. "Do you know that your enemies were ready to kill you?"

"What enemies?" he questioned; and, blushing more than ever, she told him of the meeting with Lieutenant Mazenas. He listened attentively, and then drew her to his manly bosom.

"My darling, my brave little queen!" he murmured. "You are indeed a sweetheart worth the winning!" and he kissed her again and again, while she looked up into his eyes in confidence and contentment.

After all their trials, this love-making was very pleasant; but all love-making must come to an end, and prudence bade them take heed. It was not long before Howard warned Estella that he must go on.

"Perhaps you had better go with me part of the way," he said. "We may be able to find your horse, and, even if otherwise, I will try to see you safely on your way to your father's plantation. In the future, it would be well for you to shun the unworthy lieutenant."

"I shall scorn to speak to him," she said, proudly; and he kissed her tenderly for the words.

They left the cave, following a path directly opposite to that taken by the gipsy, and presently found themselves at the edge of a large field of sugar-cane. Here Estella advised a halt.

"If I am not mistaken, this is the entrance to one of the fields owned by my father," she said.

"Then you cannot be very far from your home," returned Howard.

"The plantation is a large one, and we must be fully a mile from the house, Howard. Let us go along the road a bit, until I make sure that I am right."

They continued their way, and soon Estella was convinced that the field was one of their own. A small tool-house was reached, and beyond was a road running directly to the barns. Howard came to a halt.

"I must leave you now, Estella," he said. "To go on farther with you now would certainly cause you trouble."

"You intend to leave me?" she asked, quickly. "Oh, Howard, do not!"

"But I cannot remain. The lieutenant will grow suspicious, and have the place watched, and it is no light matter to harbor an escaped prisoner----"

"I will run the risk, Howard. Do not go and leave me absolutely alone in that house."

"Your father may have come back----" he went on, still hesitating.

"I doubt it," she returned, a sudden sadness coming into her voice. "Poor papa! oh, how I hope that he is still alive! But, come, do not----"

Estella abruptly paused, as a deep baying of dogs broke upon their ears. She turned pale and almost sank at Howard's feet.

"Bloodhounds!" exclaimed her lover, and instinctively drew his pistol.

"Oh, Howard, they have set a pack of bloodhounds on your trail!" cried Estella. "We are lost! They will tear us to pieces!"

Scarcely had she spoken when three growling and savage bloodhounds burst from cover down the foot trail, and came running at full speed toward them, their long, white teeth gleaming in the sunshine and the flecks of foam dropping from the corners of their cruel mouths!

Howard and Estella clung lovingly to each other, as the bloodhounds advanced upon them with mad leaps.

They were in deadly peril, and it seemed as if they were indeed lost!