The first to speak was Burke.
"Hello, my dandelion!" said he; "so you've riz up, after all? Wal, you always were a shiner! How did you leave the she-devil in the black toggery? Did she ask particler after my health?"
"I'm sorry to say she forgot to mention you," replied the Prince; "she was too busy debating me. Where's the nigger?"
"Here, sah," cried Joe from a dark corner of the place; "quite flat, sah, or fall out of the window, sah. Slap-up fine thing in windows; no trouble to open him; you go long way, heels up, sah, if you don't mind your eye!"
The light was very dim, but his meaning was plain, for the room in which the four had been shut was at the top of one of the towers of the castle, and the whole of its right-hand side was open to the air, there being a parapet not more than six inches high to prevent any man stepping from the prison and going straight down to the flags of the court a hundred feet below. Beyond this startling eccentricity of casement the place had nothing uncommon, being built with thick stone walls and heavy beams above; but there was a table in the centre of it, upon which some bottles of common Spanish wine, together with a supper of meat and bread, were set; and the floor was strewn with rushes.
"Well," said Messenger, after he had looked all round, "this wouldn't be the place to give a small and early in—eh, Burke? Not quite the 'Metropole', is it? What's the wine like?"
"Forked lightning coloured up with sulphur!" said Burke. "I took a sup jess now—not more than a quart—and it only wanted a bit of string to spin me!"
"And, Hal," continued the Prince, turning to Fisher, who sat upon a bench looking with infinite disgust at the fatty meat upon the table, "you don't tell me how you fared!"
"I didn't fare at all," said Fisher. "The man brought me up here and shut me in; that was the beginning and the end of it."
"I wish to Heaven it was the end of it!" cried the other. "Do you know what she wants, Burke? She asks for the whole of the cash in return for a free passage for the four of us. I call that modest!"
When Burke heard this, he sat up wonderingly.
"All the stuff?" he asked.
"Every sovereign of it!" said Messenger.
"I'd burn her old body to blazes before I'd give her ninepence!" said Burke. "What ken she do?"
"She may do many things. To begin with, she might poison us"
"Blind me, I never thought of that when I swabbed up the vitriol! What did you say?"
"I said that I would give her one-third in return for her help."
"You did foolish! What is there ez'll prevent her banking the cash and then stretching you?"
"A little something which occurred to me before I made the offer. If she accepts my conditions, I shall send two of you to Ferrol to look for Kenner; and, wanting him, to do his business."
"That's right along cute! Did it occur to you, belike, that there was a way out of this hole?"
"Just as much a way out as there would be from Bow Street if the pair of us were there now."
"She came to know of the business from the papers, I'm supposing?"
"Exactly. The mate of the Admiral was picked up, as I thought, and half the police in Europe are tracking us."
"Wal, I reckon I saw it from the first. You must have been blind to let the man go!"
"If I'd have done any thing else, the crew would have turned. It was the best thing possible."
"Maybe; but if it was me ez had drawn a bead on him, he'd be among the martyrs now. Do you think the old girl will take the third?"
"I'll tell you better in the morning. I'm full of sleep now; and I'm going to take a drink of that sulphuric acid. This place is productive of thirst."
"Wal," said Burke, settling down at his length, "look out for fireworks; and if you're waking, call me early"
"If we're waking!" said the other with a momentary gloom. "It's just possible that we may not wake."
Fisher and the nigger had been asleep toward the end of the talk; and though the bed of rushes did not suggest the quiet of dreams, the others, who had scarce closed their eyes during two days and nights, now endeavoured to imitate them. The fact that the prison lacked a wall was in no way to be regretted in the heat of the early morning hours; and, for the matter of that, the spires and domes of the castle, shining below them in a flood of moonlight, gave rest to the eye and a picture of exceeding beauty. From the great arch, which lacked glass, they could look over the spread of the park away to the rippling sheen of the sea, and to the hill above the haven where their money lay. Nor was it to their comfort that they observed torches flaring here and there like elf-fires upon the beach; and saw, on the more open swards of the downs, companies of men moving from place to place; and heard the shrill crying echoing from hill to hill as the signals were given or answered. Such a spectacle suggested many things, to Messenger, at any rate; and he, knowing the large probability that their haven would be discovered, saw in its discovery the corollary of his own death and of those with him. For it was as certain as the rise of the moon that, once she had her hand upon the bullion, the Spanish woman would give no quarter, nor parley for a moment with the outcasts over whom chance had given her the mastery.
Such logical forebodings held the man from sleep for many hours. He sat watching the path of the torches, which appeared and disappeared like a Jack-o'-lantern. Oftentimes his heart quaked as he heard some unusually loud hail, and he said to himself: "They have found the creek." He was cold with a piercing chill at the mere sight of a lugger in the offing. But his fears, for that night at the least, were quieted in the middle watch when, of a sudden, the British warship which had been cruising on the coast anchored in the bay; and the lights upon the beach were instantly extinguished, while parties of Spaniards came running up to the great house and crowded into the court-yards. Then a deep stillness succeeded, and, believing that the danger was past, he lay upon the mattress of rushes and slept with profound languor for many hours.
When he awoke, he found himself, to his unutterable surprise, in another room. He had observed the change as he opened his eyes and saw, in place of the bare stone and the rushes, a panelled ceiling of oak and the posts of a wooden bed upon which he lay. He was now in a room which had some stamp of civilisation—an arm-chair of leather, a table with books upon it, a glass above the chimney, and a timepiece set above his bed. He saw then that it was five o'clock, and, by the fall of the sun's rays and the heat, he knew that he had slept for twelve hours, and that the wine which he had taken had compelled him to the utter oblivion. Indeed, he felt a great weariness in his limbs, a difficulty to set out events in order in his mind; and when he rose to his feet, giddiness seized upon him, and he reeled into the chair. Do what he would, he could conjure no ordered picture of the yestereve; could bring his brain to no recollection of the absolute circumstances of the day he had passed through. Nothing but the ephemeral and flitting impressions of scenes and persons could he grasp; and for a long while he sat with the vacuous stare of the demented or the wandering.
The awakening from this state of mental coma was a violent one. He had walked round his room twice, taking scant observation of its contents, and then had turned to gaze upon the greensward of a small but highly walled court upon which his windows gave. He could look from his casement down upon the whole face of this enclosure, over whose grass high chestnut-trees cast a welcome shade, and suggested by the lazy rustling of their leaves that the atmosphere was not sleeping even under the sun's rays. At the first there was nothing in the grass court to interest him in any way or to call his mind to coherence; but at the second look his blood seemed to freeze within him, and he caught at the window for support. For the body of Burke, the skipper, was hanging from the lowest branch of the hither tree, and swayed upon the rope which held it, so that there was no doubt of the man's death, though his face was hidden by the foliage, and little but his legs could be seen.
"THE BODY OF BURKE, THE SKIPPER, WAS HANGING FROM THE LOWEST BRANCH" (p. 259)
The sight, as I have said, brought Messenger's mind instantly to its work. Under the shock the events of the night recurred to him quickly. He remembered every word he had spoken to the woman; he could narrate again his last conversation with the man whose body now hung from the tree; nice points of argument with himself were again before him. And of these the first he discussed was the point which the hideous sight in the courtyard suggested to him. Why had the woman hanged Burke? There was only one suggestion possible. She had done it to frighten the three who lived. It was the lesson she was to teach him. But it had no such sequence for a man of his feeling, at any rate. Another would have thought, if but for a moment, tenderly of one who had worked with him, sharing possibilities and dangers, evil luck and good chance, hard board and free fare; but Messenger had no such thought. "There is one less to share," said he; and he flung himself in his chair again, but this time to think with unclouded mind.
The woman had not found the money; that was clear; and if the British cruiser were still in the offing, she had probably ceased to search for it. He asked himself, what if he could make terms, and trust to the after-days to make them better terms? She was only an adventuress, after all; once he were in possession of substance, it were ill luck if he could not play the stronger hand. He did not forget, however, that any moment might take from him the power of barter at all. If she found the creek, then he would hang with Burke. He must act, therefore, on the inspiration if he would save his neck and Fisher's. It was curious that in all his scheming this thought of the lad came to him, yet come it did; and he knew that if he had seen the boy's body hanging where Burke's was the sight would have been almost unbearable to him. But he seemed to feel that Fisher still lived; and, desiring to speak to the woman quickly, he beat upon the door, and after continued knocking it was opened, and the Spaniard stood before him.
Somewhat to his surprise, the man desired no intimation of his object. No sooner had he appeared than he nodded greeting to the prisoner, and at once led the way from the chamber. They passed together down a long corridor of stone, and, thence seeming to come into the main building again, they continued on through a vast room whose oaken walls were hung with armour, and so through a suite of gilded but faded apartments until they reached the hall of fountains and the room where the woman had sat at her first reception.
It was not in this room that Messenger was now received, but in a smaller chamber behind the panel which had opened so mysteriously at the woman's touch on the previous evening. Here sat the crone perched up in a great arm-chair, but she was not alone. A ragged man, who carried a ragged cap in his hand, stood at her side, and was talking to her with a wealth of gesture which implied an exciting narrative. Nor did she betray any surprise that the Englishman had come suddenly to her; rather, she welcomed him, and at once began to speak.
"I was about to send for you," said she. "There is news from the hills, and bad news, I fear. A company of carabineers left Vivero at dawn, and is now encamped five miles from here. There is an Englishman at the head of it, and as far as I can learn this house is its destination."
At this news the Prince paled for the second time since he had left London.
"Are you quite sure of your information?" he asked.
"As sure as I can be from the words of this messenger. He thinks that another company has left Ferrol, and that the hills are full of men. We may expect a visit any time between now and midnight!"
Messenger took a turn up the room, his hands plunged into his pockets, and his teeth pressing hard into his lips. For the moment his mind reeled as the danger seemed to close him, look where he would; but suddenly he stopped before the woman, and asked another question.
"Tell me," said he, "have you any way leading from this house which is not likely to be a high-road for troops?"
She laughed at the simplicity of the question.
"Do you think," she cried, "that I would live in any place where I could be taken like a rat in a trap?"
"I didn't suppose it for a moment," said he; "but, that being so, I am going to tell you where the money is, and we will make the flight together."
"It is the only possible course," said she, answering Messenger with like frankness; "there is trouble for both of us, though I cannot tell at present how far I am involved in it."
"I gather from your words," said he, "that this house is the immediate object of the attack. Could you hold out here while we got the money hid inland? They will scarcely force your doors if you refuse to admit them."
She laughed with harsh note.
"Mon ami" she cried, "you do not know the carabineers of Spain! If it is as I think, and my acquaintances in Madrid have been talking too loudly about me, these men have come here on a double purpose. The first part of it is to arrest you; the second, to do me a similar kindness. It is your presence upon the coast that has set the hornets loose. The Spanish Government has known about my work for ten years; it might have moved in another ten if the Englishmen in the city had not cried incessantly for action. For me, were you not here, the future would be simple; I should set out to-night or to-morrow for Vienna, and return here with the new year. After such a display of enthusiasm as this they would leave me in peace for another generation."
"But now the case is different," he exclaimed, interrupting her; "there is a million of money in the creek off your foreshore, and it has to be got into the hills without a moment's delay. How far off did you say the troops were?"
"The man says three miles; but they have camped in the village for the night. Where their camp is, and who they are, I am now going to ride out and learn for myself. Luckily, the English ship weighed anchor and left an hour ago. I shall know the best and worst of it by nightfall. Before that you and I can arrange in a word; the moment we put the hills between us and these men—I suggest that we strike for my other house near Finisterre after concealing ourselves until the troops have something to report—we divide what is to be divided, and take different roads"
"It is a fair offer," said he, "and I accept it. But I must stipulate that you continue to give me the service of your men until my share is shipped at the first port where that is possible."
"That was understood," she exclaimed, as she rose; "we are losing minutes which may be wanted. You will now take the men necessary to bring the money here while I am riding to Goozadoyre. By my return every thing should be ready for us to leave at midnight. I sent my daughter to Carcubion this morning with three servants. There is nothing more I can command here until you have done your work."
"I'm sure of that," said he; "but I must ask for the assistance of my friends. I presume you have not seized the others as you served Burke."
"I served him—sapristi! I had nothing to do with it. He struck down one of my servants in his room, and they killed him in a brawl. He was not clever, and I wonder that you regret him—you who are so clever!"
He muttered something in reply which was not audible, for his busy brain was asking the question, Was the woman cheating him with a fine tissue of lies, or was she honest? Though his intuitive faculty prompted him to hesitation, he drew from the one fact that he was no longer a prisoner the conclusion that the woman's policy toward him had completely changed; and when he followed her into the courtyard of the castle, that conclusion became more powerful. Twenty men mounted on sturdy black ponies, and all armed with guns, waited for her, and greeted her appearance with loud shouts. That they had something to tell her was apparent, and when a burly man at the head of them had poured out a volley of protestation, she turned and said—
"They fear a night march, and that is what I fear. You have not a minute to lose. I shall not ride to the village yet, but when we have prepared every thing, we will go together. Here are your friends!"
"Can you trust the men," he asked, "in the work at the creek?"
"If I could not," said she, "it would bode ill for the venture, don't you think?"
Fisher and the negro had come out with her words, and stood seemingly amazed at their liberation; but it was no moment for history. While yet they greeted Messenger, the Spaniard whom the woman called Fernando, he who had been in authority on the night of the capture, brought two ponies into the courtyard and began a hurried confabulation. At the end of it the woman spoke again—
"I can think," she cried, "of no better plan than this: let the boy here and the man with him accompany the boats, while you ride with me to the heights. I can offer you no better security."
"I do not ask any," said he; "but are you wise to waste time? Why should you not get the shelter of the hills at once? "
"Because," said she, with a slightly contemptuous laugh, "we may not be the only tenants of them; I prefer to see danger before I turn my back upon it."
"That's so," he replied. "I'm talking like a fool. Are the boats ready?"
She answered affirmatively, while he turned to Fisher and spoke quickly.
"Hal," said he, "go down with the man, here, and show him the creek. Stand by him while he ships the money; and, whatever happens, don't take your eyes off it if he'll let you keep them on. You understand?"
Fisher nodded his head, being still full of his amazement, and turned to follow the Spaniard; but the other sprang upon the saddle of the pony, and rode out of the gate by the woman's side. It was a curious and, in some measure, ill-assorted cavalcade that now defiled over the greensward of the park. Twenty men, some with capes and some with jerkins, some with sombreros, some with the broad-brimmed hats of seamen, some with embroidered jackets of velvet, some with sheepskins, but all horsemen of consummate ability, hugged close to the side of the woman who led them, she sitting hunched upon the back of a thick-set grey cob. Slung upon their shoulders were the antique but picturesque muskets; long knives dangled at their belts, revolvers were in their holsters. Habitually given to chatter and to noise, they came out now in great silence, riding at a gentle canter through the park of the castle to the high plane of grass-land which gave them a view of the sea; and they stood upon the plateau to watch the coming of the boats from the haven of the tunnel to the creek wherein the survivors of the Semiramis had found refuge. At the end of an hour they observed the boats to return; and as the signal appointed was made by the leading craft Messenger's heart leaped with the fever of his excitement.
Until this time it is to be doubted if the Spanish woman had believed the story which she had read in the English and other papers. She might have hoped that some money was brought from the wreck of the yacht to the shore; but that the vast treasure named was saved in any considerable part she could not believe. At this moment, however, a revelation appeared to come upon her; her whole face lighted up with a savage smile of joy; and, reaching out from her pony, she kissed Messenger upon either cheek, as is the fashion of the Spaniards.
"Oh, my friend," said she, "if I had known you ten years ago!" With this vague intimation of her pleasure, she suddenly cried out to the Spaniards; and, at her word, they spread abroad over the park, and, galloping with an irresistible dash and impetuosity, the whole party swept inland toward the distant woods and hills.
After the first wild sweep of freedom the escort gradually reined in its horses, and drew back to an easy canter. Mounted men had left earlier in the direction of Vivero, and others were on the hill-tops, watching for a view of the suspected troops; but, notwithstanding this, the party divided when it came to the woods at the edge of the first bay, which had been the Englishman's haven, and so was split up until but two men rode with Messenger and the woman. She, evidently, had planned to ride for the summit of the great promontory which the wrecked men had seen from the yacht; but she led the way with infinite caution, and her readiness and positive lack of all sense of danger stood out so unmistakably that the Prince seemed to lean upon her intellect as a child leans upon a strong man's.
A mile from the shore the path lay through a wood of pines, there being a mossy bed to deaden the sound of horses' tramping, and a luxurious canopy of leaves, through which the setting sun streamed redly. Here the woman reined in her pony and listened a moment.
"Do you hear any sound?" she asked.
"None," said Messenger, who had drawn rein with her.
"You have no ears," said she; "listen again, and tell me."
"Except for the bird whistling," said he, "I hear nothing."
She laughed at him.
"The bird whistling is my man Pedro!" said she. "We can go on—slowly."
The wood continued for a third of a mile or more, the path through it beginning to rise when they had gone a hundred yards, and thence mounting with a severe gradient, which the ponies attacked with the skill of habit, until it became but a ribbon-way against a hill-side. After this they entered a second wood, and, coming to the edge of it, they behe1d, both upon the seaboard and inland, the country lying below them at a great depth, and the sea itself—still, with the glassy surface of a lake. But—and this only was of moment to them—in the hollow where the first village was the sky-blue coats and red breeches of a company of lancers shone conspicuous in the clear light; and these men were leading out their horses, and presently, being mounted in haste, they galloped away quickly in the direction of the shore.
As the eyes of Messenger turned toward the sea the explanation of this action was given to him. A coasting-steamer, flying some flag which he could not read, was running very close in upon the foreland; and near, in pursuit of her, stood the British cruiser which had haunted the bay of the haven for so many days. From the high ground whence they looked down upon the scene it was possible to observe both the danger of the flying ship and the commotion upon the shore which her appearance had brought about. Scores of wild men now flocked from the village to the sea; others, already standing upon the sandy beach, were waving their arms and scurrying hither and thither, as though they could help the one ship on or arrest the pursuit of the other; the lancers themselves were riding along the low land, and appeared to be waiting for the cruiser to drive the crew of the steamer ashore. The latter vessel was now forced in so close upon the land that the probability of her striking the rocks of the promontory was apparent even to Messenger; but before he could give words to his thoughts the woman at his side spoke them for him.
"Voyez-vous mon ami," said she, "here is news."
"I was thinking so," he answered. "I wonder if Kenner is aboard her?"
"We shall know soon," she cried. "Look at that!"
The exclamation followed a crash of shot from the pursuing vessel, and as the shell fell into the sea before the steamer's bows she dropped anchor and lowered her flag. At the same moment a boat was put off from her side, and three men entered it, the foremost being Kenner. He had hoped to reach the shore before the long-boat, now let go by the other, could come up with him; but as his men bent their backs to the work the woman cried, and this time with feeling.
"Look!" she said; "my score against your friend is about to be paid. If he puts ashore on those sands, Heaven help him!"
"He cannot escape the mounted men, any way," said Messenger. "Well, he was always a tenderfoot. I looked for him to come five days ago."
He spoke callously, though he felt much, and truly Kenner's position was critical. The cruiser's boat was coming in toward the shore at a great pace; his own men were struggling with the current, which swept their dingy toward the neck of the peninsula. Their first intention of landing, and doubtlessly of making a dash for the hills, was checked when they perceived the troop of cavalry, now standing prominent upon the beach; and while they hesitated, the seamen of the cruiser drew up to them with long and powerful strokes.
Thus the position stood when Kenner—no longer able to tolerate the suspense—leaped boldly from his dingy to the sea, and began to swim toward the sands. A great cry from the shoremen followed his venture; and as he came in the shallows where he could walk the cry was taken up again, as a cry of warning.
"Wait for it now," said the Spanish woman; "he is on the death-patch, and the lancers have had their ride for nothing."
The scene was exciting almost beyond endurance, even viewed from the distant height of the hill as they viewed it.
There, upon the sand, the water lapping about his knees, Kenner swayed and hesitated, while the men of the beach bellowed their warnings, and the pursuing boat drew so near that a seaman at the bows rose to clutch the hunted man. Driven by a hundred impulses and fears, the American at last made two or three quick steps in the endeavour to throw himself flat upon the water; but he tripped in the effort, and reeled so that he dropped at last upon his knees, and was engulfed to his waist. In that supreme moment his pitiful cry rose up from the water, and echoed from hill to hill, the death-cry of a man who fears death alone. Even the shouts of the others were hushed in the face of his overwhelming peril, and it was pitiful to look upon his violent struggles as, inch by inch, the sand gripped him, and he saw himself going down to the oozing grave at his feet. And the irony of it was that none could give him help, not even the men of the ship's boat who had come to arrest him—for the place wherein he sank had not a foot of water over it, and the boat grounded upon its edge, leaving the seamen to watch his doom. Thus, with one long, piercing scream, he went down; and as the waters closed above his head, the spell of the grim scene was broken, and the men upon the beach, who had held nerveless, began to move again. The lancers returned toward the village, the Spanish woman whipped up her pony and began to descend from their place of watching.
"It was a strange meeting," said she, "that of your friend and myself; but life is full of these things. We must think of ourselves now. Let us haste, for dark is coming down."