CHAPTER XX.

THE THREE SCHEMERS.

The reader can easily imagine that Howard was not treated with any gentleness by the four soldiers who conducted him back to the prison at Marambo. A few words from Lieutenant Mazenas had sufficed to acquaint them with the true situation, and they drove the young war correspondent before them very much as a savage-minded man drives some dumb beast that cannot defend itself. Howard's arms were handcuffed behind him and shackles were placed upon his ankles, that he might walk but not run.

The prison reached, Howard was brought face to face with the jailer he had fought, and this individual subjected him to every indignity it was in his power to inflict. The young war correspondent was cast into a dungeon far beneath the street, and here he was chained to the wall and left in the darkness to his bitter reflections.

Many another man would have bemoaned his own conduct that had brought about the present result, but such was not the case with Howard Sherwood. He had exposed himself to his enemies to save Estella from being cast out, and this being so, he was somewhat reconciled to his fate, whatever it might be.

In the meantime, Captain Nocolo and Lieutenant Mazenas, having assured themselves that he was confined where it would be utterly impossible to escape, left some strict orders with the head jailer, and then departed from the prison. It was not until they were well out of the hearing of those about the prison that they exchanged expressive glances, which meant a great deal.

"We must take good care how we move in the future, Mazenas," said the captain, as they rode out to a plantation on the other side of the city.

"You are right," growled the lieutenant. "Diablo! how I would like to wring his neck for him!"

"It may come to that yet," was the captain's suggestive remark. "He may be released after a proper hearing."

"Then he shall not have a proper hearing! Dios! it would mean ruin to both of us!"

"From that I would infer that you imagine he knows us?"

"Of course he does! To my mind, this newspaper business is all an ingenious pretext. He came to find us and uncover the peculiar transactions concerning his uncle's estate."

"Perhaps you are right! Well, we have him in our power for the present."

A ride of twenty minutes brought them in sight of a long, low house, painted white. They rode up to the horse block and dismounted.

"Is Señor Barker in?" asked Mazenas of the servant who appeared.

"Si, señor," returned the woman, with a bow, and they entered the dwelling.

It was but a moment before they were confronted by Samuel Barker, the rascally lawyer who had helped them to defraud Robert Sherwood out of the greater part of his money. Barker was a tall, thin man, with a long, hooked nose, and cruel gray eyes that winked and blinked constantly. He smiled hypocritically as he extended to each a cold, clammy hand.

"Delighted, gentlemen," he said, in a high, squeaky voice. "I did not expect you back so soon. What news do you bring?"

"We have him caged again," growled Mazenas. "But we had considerable trouble in doing it," he added, in Spanish.

"I am glad to hear that he is once more back in prison. He must not again escape. In fact, it would be far better were he entirely out of the way."

The peculiar tone in which Samuel Barker uttered the words made both of the Spanish officers start. Mazenas was particularly disturbed.

"You speak as if there were great need of precaution," he cried.

"And there is, gentlemen, there is."

"Why?"

"Less than two hours ago I received a letter from Santiago, from my partner, and in that letter he states that Thomas Herringford, who was Robert Sherwood's lawyer, has met this Howard Sherwood, and is now doing all in his power to get at the bottom of this business. No doubt Howard Sherwood is about to push his claim to the uttermost, and----"

He paused.

"And the quicker we get him out of our way the better," finished Captain Nocolo, bluntly.

He had little of the outer polish of his two companions.

"It would--ah--assist us very materially if young Sherwood did not appear as a claimant," returned Samuel Barker, dryly.

"In your case it would be killing two birds with one stone," said the captain, turning to Lieutenant Mazenas. "For if Sherwood gets out again, it is likely that he'll persuade the fair Estella to elope with him."

At this the lieutenant swore roundly.

"We must effectually dispose of him, that is apparent. The question is, how is it to be accomplished?"

There was a brief silence as the trio looked at each other. The thoughts of all were busy; but it remained to the rascally lawyer to make an acceptable suggestion.

"Prisoners confined in dungeons frequently grow despondent and take their own lives," he remarked. "Now, if some fine morning it was discovered that this Sherwood had taken poison----"

"Just the thing--and so easy!" cried Captain Nocolo. "Barker, you are a man of infinite resource. He shall be so discovered--eh, Mazenas?"

"I agree," replied the lieutenant. "But how shall the poison be administered?"

"Poison is often taken with food. I have with me some that might be placed in soup, or coffee, or even water," said Samuel Barker.

"Let us have it," whispered Lieutenant Mazenas, hoarsely. "What is it--a powder?"

"Exactly. Pour it in any liquid, and it will seem to disappear. But it will be there--never fear, it will be there," and the rascally lawyer smiled grimly.

"We cannot administer this ourselves," grumbled Captain Nocolo. "We must find somebody to do it for us."

"I know of a person--Luigi, the jailer. I once caught him taking bribes, and he is in my power. He would sell his soul for a hundred piasters."

"Yes, and Luigi has a grudge against this American for the way he was treated when Sherwood escaped," cried the captain. "It ought to be easy. Get us the accursed powder, Barker."

The lawyer quitted the apartment, and soon returned with a vial filled with a whitish powder. Lieutenant Mazenas took it and placed it in his vest pocket.

The two officers remained at the lawyer's temporary residence a quarter of an hour longer, and then, when night was falling, returned to the city, to take charge of their various commands, for the insurgents were advancing closer every hour, and it was known that, sooner or later, a battle in the very streets of Marambo must be expected.

There was plenty of work for them to do, and for the time being both had to delay their vile plot against Howard's life. The lieutenant was called away to the vicinity of the railroad, and spent two hours about the depot and the freight houses. The roads were dark and muddy, and in order to save his fine military uniform he donned an old suit, and did work that, when he had joined the army, he had never thought to undertake.

"But never mind," he thought. "Once this Sherwood is out of the way, and the fair Estella is my wife, I'll let the army take care of itself, and seek protracted pleasure in Spain and lively Paris. I certainly need a little recreation, and it will give Estella a chance to become reconciled to her marriage with me."

It was well past midnight when the lieutenant returned to the vicinity of the prison. He knew Luigi would be off duty at one o'clock. He waited until the jailer appeared, and then had the man walk away to an adjacent wine shop with him.

"I have a task for you to perform, Luigi," he said, and immediately began to sound the jailer.

He found Luigi willing enough to undertake the dastardly work he had planned. Everything was arranged, and the vial with the whitish powder was handed over.

"By noon to-morrow Howard Sherwood will be a dead man!" whispered the jailer as they separated. "There will be no failure, I give you my word."

Lieutenant Mazenas returned to his quarters with an anxious heart. He told Captain Nocolo of what had been done and both waited impatiently for the morrow to come.

In the meanwhile, after an hour of liberty, Luigi returned to the prison and went directly to the place where the water jugs were kept. Procuring a fresh jug of water, he emptied the contents of the vial into the water, and stirred it up well. Then he lighted a lantern and went below.

Howard had fallen into a doze on a rude bench placed directly beneath the iron ring to which he was fastened. He sat up and rubbed his eyes when Luigi appeared.

"Here is some water for you," said the jailer, roughly. "I forgot to bring you any before."

"Thanks for your thoughtfulness," returned Howard, as cheerfully as he could. "I must confess that, damp as it is down here, I am decidedly thirsty."

"Well, drink your fill; water is free enough," laughed Luigi, brutally, as he walked back to the door and let himself out.

He glanced back sharply, however, to see what Howard would do.

Never dreaming of what the water might contain, Howard took up the jug, rinsed his mouth with a little of it, and then took a long and deep draught.

"That's rather bitter," he remarked, as he set the jug down and puckered his lips.

"You'll find it more bitter in less than an hour," thought the jailer. "That was the easiest case of poisoning I ever attempted."