Five Cent Wide Awake Library (vol. 2) (1895 11 15)
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yo Se ; CHAPTER I, TORO’S RESOLVE—THE BAG OF JEWELS IN THE DEAD-HOUSE—ROBBING A CORPSE—A SCENE OF TERROR, Toro waited in great impatience for the hour when he could safely venture upon the daring expedition that he had in view. The jewels and money which Hunston car- ried in the lining of his coat, must be his. They had been their joint property, and was not he the sole person who could have any claim to them? ; Accordingly he waited until the whole of his particular ward slept. B r And, when all the long, spacious dormi- tory was hushed in slumber, he sat up and groped beneath his pillow for his knife. z e had contrived to secret that about his person, y Besides the knife, he had secured a small lamp, which he had ready now for work, _ Slowly, gently, he arose and glided off his bed, The guardian of the ward lay dozing in his chair, not ten feet from where Toro stood, and as the latter's bed creaked he half opened his eyes. “Bh, what? Who's there?” he mumbled, And while Toro clutched his knife firmly, the old man grumbled and muttered inco- herently. Then he slept again and snored. Toro stepped out towards the door. Slowly, cautiously, he gained it. He passed through, and then he began to breathe again. Toro’s destination was the dead house of the lazaretto. To reach it, he was bound to pass out by the hall door. Toro eyopped on, but barely made any pro- gress in the hall, where his boots seemed agreed with the stone paving to create a dis- cord, and creak out words of warning to those on guard. Down went Toro on his knees, and he crept along, holding his knife between his teeth. Had that hall-porter woke up, it is prob- ‘ able that there would have been another cus- tomer for the dead-house that night, Luckily for him, he slept, all unconscious of the brigand’s presence. The bolts stuck. He used a deal of bad language, but as it was under his breath, and moreover, in Ital- ian, there is no need to shock the reader with ‘it. é f y ‘‘Ha—ha,” he muttered, in real satisfac- ion. The door was open, — He was outside, at liberty. He crossed the spacious courtyard, and | q there upon his left, stood,the ugly mausole um, the dead-house of the lazaretto, | There was a dull, dim light, twinkling feeb- ly through a small window in the building, and this served him as a guide. He groped his way along until he came to the door, and felt for the catch. But there was none. The door gave way slowly before him, and as he passed through, closed behind him with a spring. The click startled him, for now he was alone with the dead—Hunston, his comrade, and Jack Harkaway’s bitter foe. The position was unpleasant. Still, he had come for the special purpose of doing the business in hand alone and un- seen ; why should he fear? Yet fear he did, bold, burly ruffian that he was. All was gloom and darkness. 5 But, by degrees, his keen vision pierced the obscurity, and he began to distinguish the ghostly objects by which he found himself surrounded, . It was a long, vaulted chamber, with rows of shelves all around, upon which was a grim array of coffins, In the center of the room was a long table _ fixed upon trestles, upon which rested two “then, ie coffins. Toro shivered a little as his eye rested upon _ them, z ; _ But he did not mean to shirk his task. _Withaslow but firm hand, he removed the lid of the nearest coffin, and placed it aoa down. He could not endure the faintest sound j Why? HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE, Did he fear to disturb the rest of those si- lent occupants of the long, ugly boxes? 0. He knew well enough that all he could do would not accomplish this, And as his thoughts wandered he started and looked around. Was it fancy, or did the coverings of the dead really move? “Tf must be the weakness of my nerves that causes this feeling,” thought Toro. ** Away with such childish folly!” - ie he grown womanish? he asked him- self. It was not the first time that he found him- self in the presence of death. Not the first by a great many times. Beneath the sheet was the shroud of the ghostly occupant. Now to ascertain if the first was Hunston, it was but necessary to draw back the top cover of the winding-sheet. Yet his courage almost failed him at this moment, He had to pause a long while ere he could screw it up to the requisite pitch ; but he did it, and then he saw—not Hunston, but a withered old man with an open mouth and sunken cheeks and a horrible grin, A pair of glassy eyes were open and fixed as it seemed in menace upon the bold man who thus broke in upon the silent repose of the dead, The ruffian gasped. He drew back and let fall the cover of the shroud, In his first sensation of fright he would have made for the door; but he could not find it at once, and he managed to conquer that ips and stick to his self-set task. e reflected upon his wretched, penniless condition, and he bethought him of the ob- ject of the visit there. Hunston’s hidden treasure must be his at any cost. Averting his gaze from the other coffin, he passed on to the next, and here, screwing his courage up to the requisite pitch, he stretch- ed forward his hand, A moment’s irresolution here occurred, Ses desperately with his superstitious dreads, he dragged the shroud from the face of the corpse and then drew back. ** How horrible!” he thought, He gained courage presently and returned to face it. Yes, it was Hunston, surely enough. Hunston in the flesh, if not in the spirit, et far less changed corporeally than Toro ad expected to find him, Traces of his last sufferings were to be seen in his face sa enough, yet he could not think that this looked like the face of a ead man. The face was pale, it is true, yet it was not the pallor of the grave. ‘Poor Hunston!” mused Toro, as he gazed upon the face of the dead man. ‘“ He was right Gage in his sad predictions, but I did not think that it would come about so Mt Ae But now for his money bag—now ori His hand shook like that of a palsied een as he fearfully withdrew the winding sheet. His hand jerked against the body once, and then he started back horror-stricken, his heart leaped to his mouth, and his hair raised up on his scalp. “What a fool Iam!” he muttered. The murmur was whispered in the four eorners of the dead house, and echoed back to his frightened ears a ghostly moan, He plucked up by degrees, and trembling- ly returned to the body, when just as his hand rested upon it, the clock of the chapel tolled the three quarters, He started again. “Only fifteen minutes. more,” thought ‘Loro, ‘‘before they come. I must be quick.” He groped along the coffin for the bag, but there was no sign of it there, “They have robbed me?” he gasped; “I am cheated, swindled by these pious thieves! But I'll be revenged; I'll fire this accursed i Tl burn them all in their beds—I’}l— He paused for breath, and for the dire threats of vengeance, for although pretty fer- tile in this sort of matter, his invention seem- ed to fail him now. ; : _ Hecould think of nothing worse than burn- ing his benefactors in their beds, ' “What's that?” by \e Vex Ms i His hand touched something hard against the left side of the body. He Laser eagerly down and felt the outs line of the bag itself, Here it was surely enough. He car back the sheet, and caught at the bag, but the white drapery yet envelop- ing the body baffled kim, ell, it was useless repining, so he set to work with his knife and cut out a square piece of the sheet. In the midst of this task, the lamp he had brought flickered and gave up the ghost, and then the only light proceeded from the feeble oil lantern hung upon the wall at the furth- er end of the chamber, This startled him and caused his hand to slip, so that the knife struck the corpse and penetrated a good inch, A long, dark stain showed where the knife had pierced. He looked on with a vague sensation of fear, for he knew the nature of the stain. Blood ! ) ‘“Why, how's this?” he gasped, aloud “Dead men don’t bleed !” But now his hand grasped Hunston’'s jewel bag, and greed got the better of fear, He dragged at it, and having to apply greater force to it he bens over the body, when suddenly, to his intense horror, it moved! ‘‘Great mercies!” he faltered, closing his eyes. At that instant an icy hand fastened upon his throat, and as the Italian felt the hideous touch of the cold hand, he gasped for mercy. His tongue clung to the roof of his mouth —he endeavored to ery out—but in vain. “Tt is the death clutch!” was all he could articulate, i d fi eh then he fell over the body, half insen- sible, CHAPTER II. ALARMING NEWS—THE ENGLISH VISTTORS— TORO REBELS—THE MAD WOMAN—THE PAD- DED ROOM, At the moment that the brigand Toro fell fainting over Hunston’s body, the great bell of the lazaretto rang out aloud peal of alarm, Clang, clang, clang! went the iron tongue, and in the space of a few minutes all the place was in an uproar. Toro, horribly frightened, felt his brain on fire with the confusion prevailing. He fought with the hand that pressed upon his throat, as soon as he had recovered his senses sufficiently to realize what was going | forward. The alarm bell brought him to his wits again, and he began to understand now the danger he was running. He remembered the tales of the previous days about sacrilegious people who had rob- Ben the dead, and the thought of the penalty for sacrilege roused him at once. With a mighty effort he struggled up and set himself free from the clutch that had hela him, and dragging himself up he found him- self face to face with Hunston, { Yes, there was Hunston, sitting up in his coffin—bolt ae Toro started back aghast with fright. The pale face of Hunston was close to his, and his apd eyes fixed steadfastly on him, ‘ ea! the explanation rushed into Toro’s rain, } In his frantic endeavors to free himself from the singular entanglement with the’ corpse, he h posture, He thrust it back, but to his intense dis- may the right arm was thrust out again, and at the same time a low, moaning voice breathed his name, ‘ ee Toro.” The Italian reeled back. “Hunston!” he gasped, barely above a whisper. The body of his former comrade gravely bowed his head, Toro stared frozen with terror. “Speak, Hunston, speak!” breathed the wretched man in accents of unspeakable hor- ror; ‘‘do you live, indeed? Do my eyes cheat me, or is this some devilish jungling of the fiend himself ?” dragged it up into a sitting ly. ‘Speak, if you are really alive.’ “How cold it is—I’m so thirsty—don’t you leave me here alone,” came in a low tone from * Hunston, « Yes—yes, speak.” cried the Italian, eager-
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y ce HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE. Toro barst forth in a fit of hysterical laughter, und sprang forward to raise Hunston up in his arms. “Yow re alive—alive!” he cried, wildly. ‘‘My poor camarado, the sound of your voice warms my heart, and sends the blood through my veins at fever pace. Hurrah—hurrah—hurrah!” Hunston looked on as one stupefied, He could not at allcomprehend what had taken lace. 4 What he had had was neither more nor less than a species of ye fit, and it had lasted so long, that it had fairly baftled the doctors. The probability indeed is that he would have passed away in this trance, but for an accident. That accident was the slipping of Toro’s knife in the body of Hunston, in the clumsy efforts to eut away the bag of jewels. But there wasno time for explanation now. Before Torocould utter another word, the door was burst open, and five or six armed men en- tered the place. “See there,” cried the first to cross the thres- hold, “behold him!” “Down with him.” ‘Let him pay the penalty for this sacrilege,” eried another. “Death to the villain who doesnot respect the sancity of the grave,” quoth a fourth, who was the head of the lazaretto, and they made a show of rushing upon the Italian. “Stand back, if you value your lives!” thun- dered Toro, plucking up now that he had time for reflection. ‘You have proof that I don’t respect the dead. Here is ample proof that you don’t respect the living.” “ ah ?? ‘What does he say?’ “Tsay you do not respect the living,” retorted Toro, boldly, ‘¢ Audacious scoundrel!” vociferated the head of the lazaretto. “Do you want proof?” cried Toro; ‘if so, look there.” Saying which, he pointed to Hunston, and then for the first time they caught sight of that startling ag pes Startling, indeed The dead alive! The new comers stared at Hunston, sitting up in his winding-sheet, and then at Toro, and next at each other. “Ts it possible!” ejaculated the head of the hospital; ‘‘ does he, then, live?” ee for yourself,” was Toro’s reply. But Hunston set all doubts upon this point at rest, by asking, in diy, husky tones, for a drink. “My throat is parched and burnt,” he said, feebly; ‘‘in pity, give me a drink of water.” Some drink was got,and Hunston revived rap- idly. What is this horrible place?’ he asked, with a shudder. : Someone was about to furnish the required in- ee, but the head of the lazaretto inter- ered, “Hush!” he exclaimed. ‘Do you, signor,” he added to Toro, *‘explain to your friend that this is the surgery where he has been brought, as he has been so long ina trance that an oper- ation might have been necessary; the shock of learning the truth might be too much for him in his present condition.” : Toro approved the idea, and translated it faithfully; but Hunston was by this time fast recovering his presence of mind. “Fora surgery, Toro, it bears a very close re- semblance to a mortuary; this,” he added, point- ing to the linen shroud, ‘‘is more like a shroud than a table cloth, and the box I sit in might also ‘be taken for a coffin. Was I not right when I predicted that I should be laid out here?” f cow, _ ” bance? eye and wrong. “Tt is only a sham death, you see. You have vitality enough in you yet, Hunston, to live the best man out here,” Hunston shook his head, “*T doubt that.” é “*T feel sure of it; and after all I was right since you are living now, and have cheated all the doctors.” i * * “OK * * * The restoration to life of the English patient made an extraordinary excitement. prepared with a suitable reply. Toro made the best tale he could of his share’ in the business. ; The first question asked was naturally what im- duced him to break into the mortuary. He had anticipated this question, and he was a | **T dreamt that my friend and foster brother was in eee of being buried alive,” he said; ‘the thought of it haunted me, and I no sooner heard of his supposed death than I was deter- mined to see for myself. So I waited until all was quiet, and I crept out—determined at all hazards to aa the truth for myself. You know the rest. They: vowed that this was the most remarka- bleinstance of correct presentiment that had ever come to their knowledge. The treasurer of the lazaretto, who had a keen eye to his duties—the increasing the funds of the hospital—saw a chance of making capital out of this. He got a highly-colored version of the story circulated, although, in all conscience, the tale was sufficiently startling as it stood—for the pur- pose of drawing visitors to the place. Now visitors were always expected to help the ey, a small donation. Visitors came in shoals after the first day, and they bled pretty freely, and so it was an excel- lent accident for the lazaretto. The result of this was that when Toro and Hunston wished to take their departure, the head doctor Ait aia by the treasurer, would not hear of their eaving. : “But we are well now,” urged Hunston. The doctor smiled with a gi has air. **So you think. Butif you think you are well, I have my professional reputation at stake, andi know better. Toro lost all patience. His fiery blood was up, and he blurted out: ‘“* Well, signor doctor, well or ill, we will stay no longer.” “Do not be foolish,my good man,” said the doctor; ‘it is not alone for your health that you must stay, but for your interest.” “Tnterest,” said Hunston, ‘‘ what interest?” “While you were ill—in that trance, we had some rich English visitors here—very rich.” “hea Shit oe Wh th greatly inte: ‘verything. ‘y, they were tly inter- ested when they heard the case acne and they were hits liberal to the charity—very liber- al, They will no doubt come again when they hear of the extraordinary case, and if they ceme, no doubt they will be lavish with their money as before.” “So!” exclaimed Toro, violently, to keep us_here to make a show of us. The doctor smiled. “That’s rather a rough way of putting it, but if we did——” “ Hpt—” ‘you want ? “Yes,” pursued the doctor, coos “what then? You cannot aid the funds of the charity upon which you have lived.” / ‘‘Bah!” cried Toro, furiously; ‘you want to make us a show for fools to gape at.” Hunston, less impetuous than his comrade, had been thinking the matter over, and hoped to turn it to account. If these rich English were so very lavish with their wealth, might not a few judicious words bring help from them? : 7 Help for the two interesting invalids them- aa as well as assistance for the hospital unds. He hastily explained this to Toro, x re When 0 you expect these English to come ere? “Perhaps they will come to-day. I will ask,” He called one of the attendants. “Did the English gentlemen, the Signor Hark- away and his friends, say when they would come?” «Yes, sir’; to-morrow morning.” Toro and Hunston started. i “Did you hear?” “Yes. Let us make sure; ask him?” “What name did you say?” demanded Toro, trying to look indifferent. vi spree was the reply. ‘Your friend here,” he added, indicating Hunston, “ds smiling at my pronunciation of the name, perhaps.” “ e—no.” oF Why did you ask, then? Is the name known, our Not at all—not at all!” exclaimed Toro, eagerly. is manner attracted the doctor’s attention. “The name is known to me,” said Hunston, who chee Toro was making a mess of it. “‘Hah, I thought so,” said the doctor; ‘he is, as I I ete aman of note in England?” “Well, perhaps scarcely a man of note,” said Hunston; ‘but I happened to have heard his * to name.” “ Corpo di Bacco!” ejaculated the Italian, ‘it matters little whether he be rich or poor, T for Jone don’t want to be shown as a prize pig or] stuffed monkey; and what is more, I mean to go, and go now.” The doctor changed color, ‘So you mean to go,” he said, giving him a curious look. “ Yes. ” “Very good.” i toe rahe Ting arte as ec minute a: men @ nm threshold. sae ee ‘“‘This patient has become troubled in the head,” he said, significantly, “and he must be kept apart in a padded room.” ‘oro started. “‘ A padded room!” he exclaimed. The doctor smiled. ‘*You’ll soon. learn all about it, my poor fel- low,” he said. ““ About what?” demanded Toro, anxiously. * About your ene and also about your doe- tor. Among other things they will teach you te be obedient to your doctor!” Toro remarked the meaning smile of the doc tor, and he was about to expostulate when sud denly he was seized by two of the attendants, and his arms wrenched back. The third attendant fastened them by thé wrists very reper b and then he was power less to act in his own defense. Toro blustered and swore, and made a greaf noise. The doctor ordered him to be taken to the pad ed room. : “You'll like to receive your visitors yet.” “Never!” said Toro. “‘You may do as you like in this infamous den, but I’ll see no one.” “How can you help it?” lanations.” ‘Bah! they will know itis but the raving of a madman.” “Not when I relate how generous they were on md pete be aie I ae kept ere to work upon their hies, and—— The actor Title $4 here ae a “Take him away,” he cried; ‘‘to the padded room with him.” bot and as he left the doc- The order was tor said to himse. ‘“‘He’s right there, that is checkmate. Of course I cannot have them see him—the big- headed fool! The other is more tractable, I suppose.” 4 He thought it best to keep them apart, bub Hunston soon persuaded him to the con 5 ‘*He is very obstinate,” said Hunston, “but I could soon bring him to his senses.” “Do you think so?” “T am sure,” J ‘* My own opinion is,” said the doctor, witha searching Chg at Hunston as he spoke, ‘‘ that the name 0 the visitors sounded unpleasant to e@ ‘““No—no,” interrupted Hunston, “e ‘o to your frien ‘haps you may be able to im him. 4 : a f af e: ior” Toro ted. } “Pretend to give way by degrees,” whispered. Hunston. * I won’t be driven.” “That’s it,” exclaimed Hunston; ‘‘but the good doctor wants you as a fayor——” Signs were exchanged, and Toro appeared to assent in a grumbling manner. To have changed too suddenly might have aroused suspicions, NS ed And then af heard footsteps retreating along the stone-pave ; “Td make it very unpleasant for you by my Aathe tagpecks died away in the distance Hun- ston turned and exclaimed: ‘““We must escape to-night.” ““We will,” said Toro. To-morrow Harkaway will again cross our — path, and then it would be too late.” ‘Too late, indeed. Escape is the word, and if I can get that cursed doctor's throat in my grip, I will have his life,” ee
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a CHAPTER III. WHEREIN MR. MOLE TAKES SPIRITS WITHIN AND SEES A SPIRIT WITHOUT. Or course Mole came in for a vast quantity of badinage from his friends about the marriage and execution. Mrs. Harkaway, in particular, rebuked him very severely, as also did “little Emily,” who, however, soon relented, and asked the tutor a variety of questions concerning his adventures with the brigands. “ Are you not sorry you went on shore there?” she asked. ‘‘Only ‘think how much better it would bave been if you had stayed on the ship to take care of Mrs. Mole. If you had done so, the brigands would never have had a.chance of cap- turing you.” ‘* My dear Miss Emily,” said Mr. Mole, ‘it will ever be a source of satisfaction to me to remem- ber that I was a prisoner in the hands of those | ] miscreants at the time of that memorable attack upon the house in the wood upon Magic Island.” ‘But you were out of the way of the fight- ing?” said little Emily, slily. ‘Out of the way?’ iterated Mr. Mole indig- nantly; ‘‘no, I was on the way to give the scoun- drels what they so richly deserved.” “Dear me, [ did not know that,” said Emily. “Not know it? Goodness me! why, I thought everybody knew what my share in the work was, “T know,” said young Jack, who was present, “that Mr, Mole rendered very great service.” Mr. Mole knew well the chaffing spirit of the family, and had his preanke about young Jack. He shot a sharp glance of inquiry, but young Jack returned it with the demurest possible stare, and Mr, Mole was led on to indulge in his consti- tutional weakness for lying and exaggeration. “J was left alone for some little time,” said Mr. Mole, ‘‘and I soon contrived to get free; so I watched the fight in great anxiety, as you may sw ne i T should,” responded young Jack, dry- ly. “T saw one of the brigands coming in my di- rection, so I waited until he was close by where T was hidin; 2 “Hiding?” , te Yes. ” “Oh, then, you did hide?” i ig strategic reasons,” responded Mr. Mole. “T see. “Well, just as the poor man was close by, I pounced out upon him and disarmed him.” “ Poor fellow!” “ You will say poor fellow directly,” said Mr. Mole; ‘‘he was in such a state that t was fore- ed to kill him.” ' “What?” cried little Emily. ‘Or he would have killed me.” “You had no choice, then?” ‘ “None, but = was merciful; I took off his head at a single stroke of his own sword.” At this there wasa general chorus of ‘‘ Good- ness gracious!” in which little Emily and young Jack were joined by other voices. The latter belonged to Dick Harvey and Magog Brand. , ; ** Goodness gracious!” But the addition to his audience did not in any i way dismay Mr. Mole. e had been indulging to some slight extent, and in his case the old proverb, in vino veritas, was exactly reversed. He never pulled the long bow so hard as when his brain was heated by the fumes of alcohol, “Ata single stroke,” he said, planting his right wooden leg firmly down; ‘‘and can you wonder at that?” ; “Singular to relate, we can,” responded Dick. “You know my reputation as a swordsman in my youth,” said Mr. Mole. “T ought to have heard it,” said Dick. “You know when I was your age, I have HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE. “but then you see, I have one advantage—they do not require washing so much as your pale- faced children, and you know that saves some amount of crying. However, I wish I had a chance of showing you what I could do if my courage was put to the test.” d He drew himself up to his full hight, and stood not only on his wooden legs, but on his dignity likewise. ow, strange to relate, as Mr. Mole spoke, he strutted off to the window with an air of lofty patronage just as a deep shadow fell across it. Next minute, two men pasaed along, one limp- ing and leaning upon the other. ‘he limping man looked-up and peered into the room through the glass, and he faced Mr. Mole, their eyes divided by the window, but really not twenty inches apart. Mr. Mole staggered back. His face was ghastly pale and his lips blood- less. Stranger than all, he was thoroughly sober in an instant. ‘Good Heaven! Mole,” ejaculated Dick, ‘what has happened?” Mr. Mole made some faint sound, but they could not make out what he said. Fright had rendered him inarticulate. oA ere you seen a ghost?” Mole nodded. “T have,” said he, in a hollow voice; ‘ the ghost of the Italian brigand, Toro,” There was a general rush to the door and win- dow, but no signs were to be seen of the two men. Both had disappeared. “My opinion is,” said Magog Brand, “ that the ghosts have been conjured up by the spirits Mr. Mole has taken as refreshers.” And this view was generally adopted, in spite of Mole’s protestations, in spite of his white face and staring eyes. CHAPTER IV. TORO AND HUNSTON—THE ESCAPE FROM THE LAZARETTO—OUT OF THE WINDOW—A TUSSLE AT THE GATE—A VERY WARM CHASE, THEy were inclined to dene at Mr. Mole, and treat the whole matter as a fit of imagination, This we have seen. What we have yet to see, however, is how much truth there was in his wild exclamation. This you may learn by reading what follows, * * * * * * # a Toro and Hunston looked about them in that padded room, and mentally reckoned up the chances of escape. They were meagre. The door was fast enough, So fast, indeed, that it would have defied the exertions of an experienced burglar, armed with proper instruments, to demolish it, ere only remained one chance for them—the window. To this, therefore, they devoted all their at- tention. The window was solidly barred. This was not a very hopeful beginning, but be were not easily discouraged. e dreaded visit of J. ack Harkaway and his party filled them with dismay; and, come what would, they must get clear of the lazaretto be- fore the morrow. Toro clambered up to the window by mount- ing upon Hunston’s shoulders, and once there, he held on. “Where does the window look out to?’ asked Hunston. ; : “Can't see yet,” replied Toro, tugging at the bars. ‘I must get my head out first.” “Pull the bars away.” Toro grunted. “That is more easily said than done. I can’t “ Good.” “Now alittle more patience, a little more work, and then——” “ Hist! ejaculated Hunston, eagerly. ‘¢ What is it?’ demanded Toro.in an excited whisper. ‘*Someone coming.” ** Tn the corridor?” “ Yes.” Toro, without a word, slid down to the floor, and with one of the bars, he made a strong wedge in the crack of the door, which would cer- tainly impede its opening. Another bar, which was not so thick, he thrust into the key hole, and thus spiked the lock. ‘ There, that will spoil their curiosity,” said he, with a chuckle; ‘‘and now to look to the win- dows.” Hardly were the words uttered, when the door was tried upon the other side. The key was thrust into the lock, but of course, it could not turn, thanks to the spiking with the iron bar. After a few moments’ fumbling, Toro could hear a voice, in vexation, mutter: ‘‘ Why, they have given me the wrong key.” i 2 I don’t think so,” replied another voice out- side. * ‘This one will not turn. We must get back and see. And_ then, to the intense satisfaction of the two occupants of the padded chamber, footsteps were heard retreating along the stone corridor. Back they got to the window. A third and fourth bar were speedily out, now that the settings were loose. And now there was room enough to squeeze through. ieee Toro was thus engaged, Hunston was not idle. He had torn down the leather with which the room was hung, and slit it with his knife into strips. These he tested in a variety of ways, and once secure enough to trust *he weight of bis budy to, they were fastened to the only bar ‘eft in the place. To complete all this, they had perhaps spent Bee minutes. 5k, ut yet it was time enoug r the le to be at the door again. ae The door was shaken violently now. Loud voices were heard in altercation, “Now we must be quick,” said Hunston, ox- citedly. “ Ash!” A voice without was heard challenging them. ‘“* Ho! Signor Italiano.” Tt was the doctor. “Che cosa, Signor Dottorino?” (What is it, lit- tle Mr. Doctor?) “* Ho oesognio” (I want)—— began the doctor. “ Basta—basta!” interrupted Toro, with a laugh of derision, ‘‘ ho useité adesso—-adesso.” (L have just gone out). And he wound up with a noisy fit of laughter. e The next moment Toro was out of the win- ow. ‘‘Be careful,” exclaimed Hunston, in a whis- per. “ All right.” ; The knocking at the door of the padded room grew louder. Hunston turned to the window in great anxi-. ety. Toro was half way down, and the frail rope of strips of leather upon which he trusted, was. cracking ominously under his weight. The hammering upon the duce: tegaiiles every instant more alarming. If they were not quick danger of the door being broken in. Hunston waited only a short time, just enough to see Toro safely landed upon the roof of th } dead-house, before he trusted himself to the very primitive ladder. Josten was really some: move them.” : ‘Here, take my knife; loosen the mortar in which they are set.” “ Good.’ He set to work again; and after persevering for some few minutes, out came one of the He clambered through the window just as the doctor shouted: j ‘““ Why don’t you answer? Do you hear?” / ee thrust his head into the chamber, and ( replied: \ faced some of the greatest experts with small arms. You have heard of Angelo, the great fencing master?” “uy ” “He, ‘Angelo, the great master, would not face \ » nae. rs. ‘What answer do you wish for? He will not ‘Very rude of him to turn his back,” said] ‘Bravo! Now look,” said Hunston, eagerly. talk.” if Dick. re ‘ What do you see?” “He! Who?’ “Of course, he didn’t do that.” ‘The root of a low building.” ‘‘ My friend, the Italian.” __ ©] mean he dared not face me with the sword. | ‘‘ Which?” The doctor grunted impatiently. He knew I was too much for him,” ‘* 1 scarcely know it; yet stay ——” “Tell me if you have done anything to the. “T don’t wonder at that,” said Dick; “you are| ‘Is it slated and slanting, on one floor only?’ | door.” almost 400 much for us, too—eh, Mr. Brand?” “Yes: I know it now. It is the deadhouse, 1] ‘‘ What do you mean?” ‘ “That he is,” laughed the little gentleman; | remember.” _ “Why, you know well enough. You have made - Mr. Mole, how are those beautiful] ‘‘I thought as much,” said Hunston. ‘‘Tell | it fast somehow.” Best i me what is the drop?” “ Tf that’s your opinion,” retorted Hunston, in “ Perhaps twelve feet, or perhaps fifteen; not | an indignant and loud voice, ‘you are welcome. ES _' to enjoy it; but I, like my companion here, shall» — ; Bee ah as 2 Hae Se lendid fai _L mean, your splen dark twins M | @erting on” a * Cake “My children, I confess, are dark,” said Mole, a , Best t
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a ’ decline to continue the conversation, since it has taken such an offensive turn.” ae was the most judicious speech he had yet made. It was well timed, toe, for Toro was just then beginning to slide down the sloping roof of the dead-house, and ashe spoke, Hunston grasped the twisted leather and slid down. It creaked and strained as he went down, and every moment he expected it to snap asunder, Great was his relief, therefore, as his feet touched the slated roof below. At the self-same moment Toro had reached the ground. A crash was heard above. The impatient doctor had ordered the door of the padded chamber to be forced, and loud cries above announced that the flight of the two pa- tients or prisoners was already discovered. As Hunston began his descent from the roof of the dead-house the doctor appeared at the win- dow above, calling and gesticulating in the greatest excitement. } ““ Stop them!” he shouted, “shut the yard gates! They are two mad patients!” The gate-keeper ran out, and hearing the alarm, dashed to the gates just as Toro came up at arun, “Open the gate!” he thundered at the man, “or else——” 7 The gate-keeper made no reply, but grappled with the fierce Italian. Toro’s blood was up, and he put forth his great strength to grapple with the man, who proved but a mere boy in his clutch. Seizing the luckless fellow around the waist, he lifted him fairly off his feet, and hurled him vio- lently to the earth. ; He lay there quietly enough, never offering to move or stir. / Hunston was by this time at the gate,and drag- ged at it with all his strength, but in vain; it closed with a spring that held it fast. £¢ A thousand deyils!” cried Toro, “ open the ate! “*T cannot!” replied Hunston. The startling sound of the alarm bell was now heard, and several men were seen issuing from niain entrance of the lazaretto. ; Toro rushed at the porter, who lay motionless upon the ground, and with a mighty effort drag- ged him up on to his feet. ‘* Now, fool!” he hissed in the man’s face, Pi the gate, or you haven’t another minute to ive.” He flourished his ca knife in the man’s face, as he said this, and half frighténed him out of his senses. There was a murderous bor ag Hae in the brig- and’s face as he looked into the frightened man’s eyes, and he felt that his life was in jeopardy. He obeyed Toro with considerable alacrity. “*Close it after me,” said the savage Italian, “and stop pursuit, for if we are caught your life shall answer for it.” And so the fugitives passed through the gate- way justas eight or ten men flew rather than ran up in hot chase. Now both Toro and Hunstun were fleet of foot, and having atolerable start, they contrived to render pursuit hopel within ten minutes after they had parahan the gates of the lazaretto. ‘* Phew!” groaned Toro, when they drew up to get breath, ‘that was a narrow escape!” “Indeed it was,” answered his ting com- rade; “I thought it was all over with us.” ‘** And I, too, nearly; but we have done them. We bid good-by to the lazaretto, and we laughat our friend the doctor, in spite of all his threats.” They then made for the town, where they con- verted some of their valuables into cash,and pro- cured themselves new garments for the purpose of disguise. CHAPTER V. yHE DANGER INCREASES—HOW HUNSTON WAS DOGGED, AND WHAT CAME OF IT—THE KNIFE—IN THE WOODS—A STARTLER—DOG BITE DOG. Toro and Hunston were rght when they made such frantic efforts to escape from the sight of the Harkaway party. : The hue and ery was already hot enough; they did not wish toadd Harkaway’s influence to that of the authorities of the lazaretto in hunting them | all down, and as the two adventurous ruffians were in the lazaretto under assumed names, they would in all probability have escaped the attention of our friends but for the accident of their recog- ’ nition by Mr. Mole at the window. _ men who Harka’ made his way to the lazarretto, and bere havin got afl) description of the’ #0 p succeeded in escaping, he could not HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE. have a doubt left in his mind that they must be indeed his old enemies, Hunston and the Italian bravo. As soon as he was satisfied in his own mind about this, Jack Harkaway went to the police and gave information. ‘“'They are the most vindictive wretches in the world,” he said to his old chum, Dick Harvey, | Plied ““and the sooner they are ¢: the better, for while they are at large I don’t feel that our chil- dren are safe.” “Quite right, Jack,” said Dick. ‘As family men we ought to grow prudent some time or other; although, if I tell the honest truth, I don’t like putting the police on them.” Jack stared. “ Not like it, Dick?” he exclaimed. ‘“Well,” said Dick, “if I confess my real senti- ments, I should like to tackle them again myself. I think it is our duty and our mission to make them ‘smell agony,’ as the American wags say.” Old Jack fired up at this. Like an old war-horse, he snorted at the smell of powder, however far off. ut prudence had come upon him with years, and he thought of the peril in which his boy and little Emily had been placed by the machin- ations of their old enemies. “If we were alone in the world, Dick,” said Jack, “it would be all fair for us, but we must not forget our obligations.” “ Of course not.” So the Pee had the job of hunting down Hun- ston and Toro handed to them. From that hour the chase after Hunston and the ltalian ruffian grew unpleasantly hot. Wherever they presented themselves they were beset by huge printed placards, offering re- wards for their ip ne oa Moreover, the description was exactly given. But this was not the worst. , Two days afterwards there appeared a second notice, in which, in the middle of a long placaxd, in the native type, were two names printed in big capitals of the Roman alphabet. HUNSTON AND TORO, “Flow on earth can they have got at our names?” asked Toro, in amazement, “There is but one way,” replied his com- nion, ‘“* And that is?” F rs Through our old enemy, our bitterest foe in | the world. ‘““Harkaway.” “Of course.” ‘* Malediction on him; accursed be the day that he first saw the light—may——” ‘*Stop—stop,” cried Hunston; “‘more work and less noise, ust oblige me by thinking your curses; let them be deep rather than loud. “The present business is how to get out of this part of the country. Toro was silenced. “You areright, Hunston,” he said, “ although you have a devilish aggravating way of express- ing your opinions.” f ‘Pshaw!” ejaculated Hunston, impatiently. ‘‘Jearn to pay less attention to mere words an more to the services rendered. Let us go out of the town as fast as our legs will take us. “6 Agreed.” fixed upon a ete place about a mile from the city walls, and then they separated, the better to throw the Greek police off the scent. The pees meeting place was by a well, or mineral fountain of water. It was nightfall when Hunston ventured forth from his lurking place, for he was possessed with a strange fancy that he was being watched by a tall, dark man, who had turned up unexpected- ly in three different places, where he, Hunston, had been that day. This watching made Hunston particularly un- easy in his mind, and so he determined to put an end to it. He walked along to the outskirts of the to where houses were only at rare intervals, a: sauntered. #4 Sania and orange groves, until he thought he tired out the ery for so he had, until then, designated the tall, dark man. “‘T was wrong after all,” he said, half aloud, ne for he has left me to my own devices, after And then, as the very words were upon his s, his tall friend suddenly popped up before Hunston started back, considerably alarmed. ii “Don’t be afraid, Mr. Hunston,” said the dark be ih very good English; ‘“‘I hope I see you well. Hunston gasped again. ri 77 Firstly, at hearing English spoken by the new comer. Secondly, at hearing himself addressed by name by a stranger. “You don’t remember me?’ pursued the stranger. Hunston, taken completely off his guard, re- ‘* No, I can’t say that I do.” “T thought not; but I want you to walk back into the town with me.” Hunston felt just a little uncomfortable now, There was a dash of command in the speak- er’s tone which told its own tale. ‘“What do you wish me to go that way for?’ he asked, when he could muster up courage. “ Only a freak.” “*T don’t understand you,” began Hunston. “Don’t you?” said the dark man, with a ve unpleasant laugh; “oh, you very soon wi Come.” ee hina A Se onc said Hunston, who had got back some of his scared senses by this time. “If you will explain your business with me, and tell me who you are, I am willing to make an ap- pointment with you.” The dark man laughed out loud at this. “My name,” he said, “is Piffari, A curious name, is it not? “My business,” he added, delib- erately, “‘is simply to take you back to the town with me,” “Take me back?” “Yes,” Fi ‘“* What do you mean?” , “‘Hunston, you are my prisoner,” he answered, in the same calm tone. Saying which, he clapped Hunston on the shoulder. “On what charge?” “‘Various. Come along, or I shall use force.” Hunston got back his sang froid by this time, and he walked back a little way. ‘ He looked forward and backward, to ascertain if there were any witnesses about, while his hand slowly stole into his tail pocket, He carried a | dagger knife there. “You are mistaken in addressing me,” said Hunston, with an assumed air of' offended virtue, ‘and I warn you that I shall seek redress from our consul,” ‘Yes, do so, by all means,” replied this singu- lar one man, in the pleasantest way in the world. “Tm curious to know, sir,” answered Hunston, “how you have’ been led to adopt this very strange course of conduct with me.” pases oubt- “Sir,” replied the stranger, with great ness, “your curiosity on that point will less very soon be satisfied now.” By this ime Hunsto he 4 ime n was-gripping the dagger Ini nervously in his sound band, ead pide he madea dash at his unwelcome companion wi the other. _ Ha, Mr. Hunston,” said the dark man, catch- ing the mechanical hand. by the wrist with the greatest ease, ‘‘ that is very unkind.” Pr might have spared his sarcasm, for this was @ Wap. Down came the dagger-knife when he least ex- -ted it, and with such violence that it pinned m fairly through the body, The dark man gasped, then quivered from head to foot, and then ke gave way at the knees, and sank upon the grouna=lifeless, ““That’s done,” said Hunston, greatly relieved in his mind. 4 j He wiped his knife upon the victim’s garments, and then with a final glance about him, he hur- ried Nh fast as his ae would carry him, never looking once back at the murdered man, * * * * * “Toro,” : “ Hunston.” “oe Here. ” “Good.” And the two villains met. When they came to compare race hoped hada good deal to go through upon both sides. Toro more than Hunston. The latter’s story, in fact, was soon told. It was ey ea Besek of ae tragedy in ‘which he e chi again. rare listened wy silently. wnt Hunston con- cluded. A smile of devilish triumph shone in his eyes when Hunston came to the episode of the assas- sination. “ So of the country as fast as we can.” I ? “So say I. They made x { Je hh ae for the woods until they came tos 5a h all our enemies, Hunston,” he said, vi violently, ‘and now let us get out of this part
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HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE. thickly-grown part, where progress became a, ‘Indeed, I fear you must blame your own matter of difficulty. “ This is a capital spot for an ambuscade.” “‘ You are right there, Toro; half a dozen stout fellows could hold this place against a precious big force.” ‘You are right; but there is little fear of any such danger here.” ‘Why, have you never read any accounts of the awful atrocities that these Greeks commit?” “They must be almost as bad as the Italian brigands,” said Hunston, slily. ““ Worse—worse!” pai ys oe one thing,” said Hunston; “we ought to have bought a rifle each and some am- munition.” “They would only have proved a burden to us,” replied Toro. ‘ ‘They would have enabled us to go shootin here; I don’t see how we shall get on for foo without fire-arms.” “Something is sure to turn up.” Something had. A loud, commanding voice was heard, and ‘armed men sprang up on all sides. In less time than it takes to record the fact, were covered by a dozen rifles. the They staggered back; then held up their hands yy to show they were unarmed. The robbers crept on, still pointing their guns at the two victims. “ Move or speak, and you are dead men!” cried a deep voice. CHAPTER VI. HOW TORO AND HUNSTON FELL INTO A TRAP— CONDEMNED TO DEATH—A LAST CHANCE. SEVERAL of the brigands pounced upon Huns- ton and Toro, and bound them hand and foot. “Well,” said Hunston, when he had recovered from his first surprise, “this is dog bite dog with one fe “Take us to your leaders,” said Toro, present- ly, to the brigands surrounding him. ‘You will not find them more easy to deal with than we are ourselves,” said one of the brigands. yf ‘* We will take our chance of that,” said the Italian. They were bandaged with handkerchiefs across the eyes, and led along for about three hundred yards. Then the handkerchiefs were removed. The two adventurers now found themselves in a clearing in the midst of a thickly-wooded country. The spot was well chosen. It was so admirably concealed by its natural position that no one would, by any chance, come across it. There was a little natural grotto of great beauty facing them, and a miniature waterfall which furnished the brigands with a pure drink. But neither waterfall nor grotto caught their attention any more than the other beauties of the surrounding piaene on i They only had eyes for the mob of armed men which filled the 2 r There seemed to be no end to them. : They lined the open space, and from their steady, silent manner gave the lookers-on the im- pression that they were a disciplined force, far more so than any of the lawless hosts of a simi- lar character with whom they had been connect- ed in bygone years. _ In the center of this striking picture, stood the eariainy leaning, as it were, his arm upon his car- e. He was not a very formidable-looking fellow. although he was certainly a handsome man, ani one of rather striking appearance. ~ “Capitano, your servant,” said Hunston, bow- ‘ing. j Piixcatlency, my homage to you,” said Toro, in his turn. fy Gentlemen,” returned the captain, “‘ my best welcome here.” _It began well. So they hoped that they would have no trouble with the captain. In this, however, they were doomed to disap- pointment, ' They hada great deal of trouble, as we shall see. ‘“We have been in search of you,” said Toro. “Tndeed,” returned the captain, smil in- eredulously; ‘then you are no doubt grateful to my peaee for bringing you to me so soon.” **No and yes,” answered the Italian. ‘‘Yes, ‘because we were anxious to meet with you. No, because of the rough usage we experienced on ‘the way.” he } ¢ resistance.” “We made none.” } ‘“'Then consider the extra precautions taken as a compliment to your very bold ei Lerigt ae ‘“We hope to prove ourselves bold in more than mere appearance,” returned Toro. ‘“No doubt—ne doubt.” % The tone of the brigand captain showed that he was bent upon humoring them, and yet it made Hunston vaguely uneasy in his mind. “Now, gentlemen,” resumed the captain, proudly, “allow me to proceed to business, for we have weighty matters before us to go into as soon as your affairs are disposed of.” “ By all means,” cried Toro. “ell me, then,” said the brigand captain, ‘‘what are your respective positions?” Toro and Hunston, instead of replying, could only look at each other in rather a puzzled man- ner. They could not frame a reply to this question. Hunston, being toman of superior education and tact, found a way out of the difficulty. “We have no position,” he answered. ‘‘We have been what you are, and our wish is to join The brigand eyed him sharply. ** Join us?” ” “Humph! That is to live on our earnings in- stead of starving.” “No!” thundered Toro, vehemently, “no!” ‘No; our intention is to work, to show you that we can bring as much to the general coffers as the best man among you. We are no idlers.” The captain mused in silence for awhile, and then he said: “Enough of this. Tell me what ransom you can offer if I your lives?” Ransom!” echoed Toro; “we haven't a friend in the world.” “Ransom!” exclaimed Hunston, ‘not a rap.” Then you know the consequences,” said the chief, with a lowering glance. Hunston was silent. Toro shru, his shoulders. ‘Good, we shall soon show you how we can merit the good thenens of the best of yon.” “No,” continued the brigand captain, ignorin the latter speech; ‘‘for we cal npuartandn bac! who have been as far as this.” “What mean you” ‘Simply this,” returned the captain, in an ugly voice, ‘ Marg pbs will be shot at daybreak.” An unpleasant silence succeeded this speech. “We had better have remained in the town,” remarked Hunston; ‘the police could not have treated us worse.” se has had got into a mess there?” de- manded the captain. “How?” “One of the gendarmes would have detained us, so I killed him.” The brigand captain’s face brightened at this, and Toro chdatat up. Hunston had secured thesympathy of the law- less chieftain. cf Why that is as good as a ransom,” said the latter; ‘‘ we can sell you to the police.” This was a staggerer. A deathblow to their hopes. And with this the chief haughtily dismissed the ee A; unston was not to be disposed of so easi- But While Toro contented himself with storming and pier Hunston’s busy brain wasat work. He had got into a terrible mess, but he did not intend giving up without a struggle. “One word before your excellency goes,” he sai id. “Can you find the ransom?” demanded the ‘No, but-——” “ Enough; to-morrow morning at daybreak I shall see you again, for the last time.” a Y, you shall hear me.” ! ‘‘Ay, shall,” said Hunston, with determination ; “if I cannot give you a ransom, I can leave you a legacy.” The brigand chief stopped short at this. “A legacy? ; te of hate.” } 1? “et ag ga e ; “Thank you, Pies a fair store of it already, and need not your bi \ 1 s ; “Perhaps,” Yetorted Hunston, promptly; ‘but my legacy offers you not hate alone, but a rich booty as well.” The werds caught the captain’s ears. “ What mean you?” he asked. “This; in a word, our purpose in joining you was to get your aid to secure a rich countryman of mine.” ‘An Englishman?” oe Yes. ” “Where is he?? : “Hard by. Nota league from hence. This man, who is our bitterest enemy, is rolling in wealth. He could buy up your kingdom, and his ransom would fill your pockets for life.” He paused. The captain was evidently inter- ested in the tale. “Go on.” “This man is a dare-devil, a rash fool that you can lay hands on if you will, for he runs into danger for the simple pleasure of encountering ib. ‘Indeed; he must be an extraordinary man.” “* He is.” ‘* His name?” ‘¢Harkaway.” The captain stared, and started back as though he had received an electric shock. “What!” ejaculated the brigand, in a voice of thunder; ‘‘ Harkaway again!” “You know the name?” said Hunston, in sur- prise, “Know it!” reiterated the captain, ‘it is eternally dinned into my ears. I have heard this Harkaway spoken of as one beside whom Achilles was but a braggart,a second Hercules and an Apollo all rolled into one.” unston winced. To hear his old enemy thus praised was bitter as gall to him. *“You at least need not sound his trumpet,” he said, ‘‘ for he is your sworn foe.” ‘*Now you say too much,” retorted the cap- tain, fiercely: ‘‘he knows me not.” “Not personally, perhaps, but he is your enemy unseen. He is the sworn exterminator of your trade. He has made his mark in Italy, where a whole band fell before his unceasing efforts at their destruction. In America he made his presence known to others, and here his dard eee will be, unless f am greatly mistaken, to — unt you down.” The captain looked ceeded. ’ The words sank deeply into his mind, and with good reason. He remembered the visit of that same Hark- away, the redoubtable Englishman, to a neigh- boring mountain, whither he had been decoyed under pretext of hearing a famous echo, and how Harkaway had fought the captain, defeated him, and given him up to justice. The brigand captain had not forgotten how several of the brigand band had n trea nor that Harkaway had brought them to their doom ina way that the slow-going authorities could never have done alone and unaided. The brigand chief brooded long and silently over this. , Meanwhile, both Toro and Hunston passed a |, and in silence, as Hunston pro- precious unpleasant time of it. They were placed under a strong treated as men under sentence of dea‘ At daybreak they were to die. * Ok * \* * Towards three o’clock in the morning both Toro and Hunston dozed off. They had been prey as perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes, when Hunston was aroused by a han being placed upon his shoulder. ‘* Awake! The prisoner started up with a cry of alarm. “So soon? The day has not dawned yet.” “Do you wish to see a priest?” The prisoner shuddered at these ominous words. ‘sy No.” . © Will your comrade?” “ce him. ” ; The other prisoner was aroused, but he also declined the aid of priest or paster. “T have lived a brave man,” said the Italian, | “and I shallshow you Greeks how a brave man can die. I have Paced death too often to be afraid of it, whenever and wherever it comes. Only I would sooner have died with a sword and rifle in my hand.” | ‘ “ “Tf you want no priestly aid,” said the man, y “ you'can sleep again for twenty minutes. By — that time the firing ‘gd Bio be called.” 5 em. With this he left 6 \ Assoon as he was out of hearing, the two pris- ik oners carried on a brief conversation ih En- glish, 3 Se Hy Sty ate he H i mi F 7 ; "a rel Fi ral Ses tt Q Boy
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yo of breath to sketch out anything further. The only tongue to which they could safely trust here. “What shall we do, Toro?” “Do! What isthere todo? Stand up and re- ceive as many bullets as possible, so as not to writhe long in the agonies of death.” “Do you give up, then?” “What else is there to do?” ‘One thing.” “ What is it?” ‘Make ® rush for it.” ‘To what end?” **'To escape.” “ Bah! and to be shot down or cut piecemeal before we got a dozen yards.” “Well,” quoth Hunston, ‘ what of that? It would be more satisfactory to die in harness, than shot down like dogs. esides, poor as the chance is, surely there is a chance.’ Toro reflected. ‘You areright. We can only die,” he added, 7 an air of determination. ‘“‘Let us try t. “Gently then; there is no need to spoil our chances by imprudence, after all.” ‘erue.” “And now that we are agreed upon that, Toro,” added Hunston, ‘‘let us settle what next to do when we are clean away—if——” “ Ah, ‘if’—a very big ‘if.’ J thinkitis a waste We shall not yy 2 ‘© You're a Job’s comforter,” retorted Hunston, “but I prefer taking the hopeful side of every question. If we escape, make for the Lazar- etto, j ie ‘‘ Why, in the name of the fiend, there?” cried ‘oro. “Not to stop there. Get past there to the sea, and try_to get on board some ship as a stow- away. For between the gens d’armes and the brigands here, we shall never be safe in this eursed place.” “You are right,” said Toro; “when shall we make the attempt?” “cc Now.” They arose quietly to their feet, and Hunston led the way upon tip-toe for eight or ten yards, when suddenly they found themselves confront- ed by a dark, shadowy form. ““Where are you going?” asked a cold, calm voice, in the Italian language. They had not a word to reply. So suddenly had the speaker appeared, that they were taken completely aback. “T want a word or two with you. You En- glishman, I mean,” They recognized now the voice of the brigand captain, Es ak, captain,” said Hunston, recovering elf. . ‘Ts it true that Harkaway, the Englishman, is near this spot?” s “Yes.” «You swear?” “T swear.” “ And would you still pledge yourself, if death by torture were to be the penalty for the discoy- ery of your falsehood?” ‘ by any oath you could prescribe,” returned Hanston, boldly, “for it is true. Harkaway, the enemy of bri; ds, is near us.” : “ Admitting that, could you help me to the +] capture of this hero, Harkaway?” r ” *T could. How?” ‘Many ways.” ‘One will suffice,” returned the brigand cap- tain, coldly; ‘I don’t like those who protest too much.” i “One, then, is a means of decoying Harka- bP into your power.” “ What think you of it?” ; , “Very good, if the plan be fair. How would you set to work?” “Simply by writing a letter.” “This Harkaway is a man of more than ordin- ary discernment,” returned the brigand captain; “your letter would have to be something cun- ning indeed to entrap him after that adventure which cost the lives of so many of our best fol- hee and of a gallant chief among the num- er,” j “Let me have paper and pen and ink or pen- cil, and I will draw up a letter at once and give you the whole scheme.” “Have you thought it out? ‘“‘T am now thinking it out,” was the reply. This answer caught the brigand’s attention. The ready wit it promised gave him hope, and secured his interest in the scheme. Under any circumstances I would swear it |. | they come be nAaiAt HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE, He called out to some of his followers the neces- ee instructions. : hile they were gone Hunston turned to Toro, and said: 2 “Old comrade and companion of many a danger, you saved my life recently; I shall re- turn the obligation now, I think.” **T hope so, Hunston,” returned the Italian. Hunston then proceeded to sketch out the fol- lowing letter: “To Mr. JOHN HaRKAWAY: “Tf you care to see once more in life a wretch- ed man, who in bygone years was known to you as Hunston, come at once with the bearer of this note, whom you’ may implicitly trust. The writer’s dying wish is toexpiate as far as may be the crimes of his past days, the more especi- ally those with which you have been directly as- sociated. It is needless to point out that the roads are infested with brigands, that it would be in the highest degree Sanmudent to come un- armed or unaccompanied a good, strong escort. The unhappy man who pens these lines with such infinite pains has but recently escaped from the hospital of the Lazaretto, and in his flight has sustained the severe injuries which preclude all possibility of his recovery. The end is merely a question of days—perhaps only of hours.” When finished, he scanned it through, and then apparently satisfied with it himself, he handed it to the captain of the brigands. He made a hurried translation of it into Italian, and then in silence awaited bis com- ments on it. The captain said nothing; but Toro was full of critical remarks. “Tt will excite rite at once,” said he, ‘“‘to try, on the decoy dodge.” “‘'The invitation to bring assistance with him will put him off the scent——” ‘And put us off the chance, too,” said Toro, “if he should do so.” “Tf your letter brings him far enough out of ee town, I know how to act,” said the cap- n. “Nothing is easier,” said Hunston, ‘ that we can find a messenger trusty ageous.” “We have plenty of men ready to accept the provided and cour- risk,” returned the captain; ‘‘ brave men are not | i scarce amongst my followers.” “Doubtless.” “What do you say to the scheme?” demanded Toro of the captain, ‘‘T think it practicable,” was the reply. a eae you willing to try it?” es, Toro’s countenance brightened visibly at this. _ ‘Let us have it carried out without loss of time, capitano,” said he, eagerly, ‘‘for I long to see our old enemy laid by the heels, Once let me see him at my feet, and I can die content- ed, The brigand captain was silent for awhile. He reckoned up his plans, and the chances of success. And then he gave out his decision. “At dusk to-morrow the attempt shall be made,” he said, “and if successful, not only shall ou have your lives, but a rich share of the tacky we may make by it, and, if you desire it, a of trust for each of gon in my band.” he brigand captain then, without another word, left Toro and Hunston in charge of three aps band, each armed with sword and mus- ‘ate ’ CHAPTER VIL ON THE HIGHWAY—THE LOVERS AND THE BRIG- 4NDS—AN ADVENTURE WITH A RICH BISHOP. A LITTLE later in the morning, the captain of the brigands came to Toro and ‘Hunston with a fresh proposal. “Tam about to give you a proof of my confi- dence in you,” he said. ‘*Captain,” returned Hunston, promptly, “you at es that your confidence is not unmerited.” ‘I hope so, Then he summoned the whole band by bugle call, and when they were assembled to the num- ber, perhaps, of sixty odd men, he made the fol- lowing short address: ‘These two men here,” he said, “‘are comrades; to join us. t the oath of allegiance tered to them, and then we must for- st oe they were ever with us other than as frien j ‘ The oathsjwere then taken by Hunston and ‘ore. : P ; et ea roy ice | _ The wording of the oaths was of too horrible a nature to be repeated here, nor, indeed, is its repetition at all necessary. Suffice it to say that the ceremony was not al- together wanting in solemnity, and that all alike appeared to be impressed with it. Vhen it was done, the captain sent the men upon their respective errands again, while he resumed his conversation with the new mem- bers of his band. At this point there came up a brigand in hot ; haste with news. ’ This was a scout. He had discovered that a;wealthy prelate was going to travel in his carriage, very poorly at- tended, through the very heart of the brigand’s scene of action. : “The bishop counts upon the sanctity of his oftice for protection,” said one of the brigands. ‘““He shall have more blows than protection ~ from me,” said the captain; ‘I owe him a turn.” “Pardon me, captain,” said one of the bri- gands, ‘‘you know that it will make the super- stitious folks about here very bad indeed against us if anything happened to a bishop.” “T can’t help that,” said the brigand captain shortly; “Sif his lordship will insist upon trayv- elling over our property, he must pay toll just as well as any ordinary priest or layman, and. he shall pay smartly for it, too, if 1 have any luck to-day.” The expedition was got up by three men, The captain in the first place. Next were Hunston and Toro. The purpose of this the reader has already dis- covered, It was simply to test them before they ven- tured upon a matter of greater moment. He procured them disguises, and then they set out for a favorite spot upon the high road, along which my lord bishop was pretty sure to pass. Here they waited for about an hour, when a scout, at a considerable distance from the spot, blew them a signal. “His lordship is on the way,” Said the captain to his new recruits; ‘‘stand close and take the word from me.” . ““T will see to the reverend gentleman alone; he is not very formidable.” Barely were the words uttered, when they heard the jingle of bells, and a carriage appeared in sight. ; “Hide you away,” said the captain, hurried- ly: They obeyed, and the Se arg rolled up to where the brigand chief sat, hat in hand, wpon mies came ‘trotting up to the the bank. As the acd of spot, the brigand arose and seized the bridles with a sudden firmness that stopped them in their trot, and sent them rearing sae almost upon their haunches. ‘Charity, monsignore—charity,” said the bri- gand, in a regular medicant’s drawl. ‘ ‘ Audacious scoundrel!” ejaculated the rever- end gentleman. “Charity, my lord,” repeated the brigand, as before. “Let loose the heads of the horses.” _ ‘Alms, my lord bishop, for a poor miserable sinner.” “There, then,” said the bishop, testily; “take my blessing, and stand aside.” ‘Thanks, holy father,” said the brigand, ‘‘ a odness, but I. poor man’s best wishes for your them,” would fain have solid charity wit “T have nothing.” ; «*Indeed you have.” tye : i ‘* Tnsolent!” The brigand chief, in the coolest manner pos- sible, left the ponies? heads, and came to the car- i riage window, where he thrust his head in. ‘ “Could your lordship not manage me a few hundred francs?” “* A few hundred?” quoth the bishop, aghast, ec yore said the brigand, coolly, ‘ if possible, “Poor wretch!” said his lordship; ‘‘he’s mad.” — ‘““Not very, father,” responded the brigand; ‘only my head has been fired with the tales o! pie almost fabulous wealth, which ard, whilst I and the likes of me are hungry. “Tt is false,” answered the bishop, promptly ; ‘“T have uo wealth. Never a pennyofmyown have I.” fc “Excuse me, my lord,” said the robber, “ but your purse, there, that I see beside j pre Bt hand and — that must be you.” ; took i was held. It jingled with a rich metallic sound that spok of gold, ete eu ie f j by appears, +i ey vie
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- 4 at 3 HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE. Xx Fut before he could get it through the windew the bishop had produced a loug-barrelled pistol from under his robe, and dealt Lim such a sharp rap upon the knuckles that the bag fell to the bottom of the carriage. Then he lunged sharply out, and thrust the pistol muzzle into the robber’s face. *You are mistaken,” he said, with great calmness. ‘‘ That is a bag of medals and holy relics.” ‘So I perceive, now,” said the brigand, coolly, “T have lost my spectaclés, and you would never believe how near-sighted I am.’ “Ugh!” grunted the prelate, “‘ accept my bless- ing alone this time, and make way.” The brigand withdrew and madea profound obeisance. “My lord, I shall remember you in my prayers.” ‘“Pray don’t,” retorted the prelate, hurriedly. And with this the ponies were whipped up, and the little carriage rolled off, the bishop's ad- mirable coolness having saved his money bag. Ae and Hunston crept out of their hiding- ace. pe Well,” said the brigand captain, laughin: heartily at his own failure, ‘‘what do you think of that reverend gentleman?” “* Wonderful!” “ Great courage.” “ And presence of mind.” “Both,” said the brigand. most lost me mine.” ‘His coolness al- “ Hark!” ‘“* What’s that?” ‘©A bugle.” “4 signal from Livoni the scout.” The signal was heard in, and then the brig- and captain made his A The counter-signal was heard in the course of three minutes, and the captain said: “Two persons are coming, it would appear, by the signal.” He proved to be correct, too, for in the space of a few moments up came a couple in sight. “ A brace of lovers spooning,” suggested Hun- ston. He was not far out, for there soon appeared aroun and a girl, leaning lovingly upon each other, and evidently so engrossed by each other that they had never a thought for anything else in the worid. But there was a startler in reserve for them. Just as they got by the brigands, they popped out of their hiding-places and seized them. The girl shrieked, and hid her face in her hands. The young fellow turned pep his |assailants, ani snatching a gun from the hands of one of the brigands, felled the man to the earth with the butt end. } : The next moment the gun was pointed in a direct line to the brigand’s captain’s head. But before the trigger could be pulled, Toro threw his huge carcass upon him, and held the young Greek as though he been in the hug of a bear. ; “Tt is useless to resist,” said the captain, as the young man was disarmed and held fast, es please Ene. us with all the valuables you have handy. ‘We have nothing, sir,” rep ed the trembling girl, ‘‘ nothing, indeed, sir.” ; *“Q-ho!” quoth Toro, who was busily engaged ae rns, out the loyer’s pockets, “‘what is this ; “Yes,” said the young Greek, with a bitter smile, ‘it is my money, my fortune—two lire. Take it, my gallant friends, and I can go with- out my dinner.” - “ Meanwhile, the brigand chief had turned out the maiden’s pockets, and lighted upon nothing ' more valuable than a letter. “Who's this from?’ said the Se ee captain, laughing; “‘ our young swain here “No, indeed, sir,” answered the trembling girt. “Tt is an answer to Mr. Mole’s note from the con- tessa.” Hunston pricked up his ears at this. ** A letter from whom?” «The Contessa Maraviglia,” said the girl. “To whom?” “To his excellency, Mr. Isaac Mole, sir.” Toro and Hunston exchanged significant glances. ? “Do you hear that?” ah i Gd ; _ They spoke in English, and signed to the ca) ‘tain to be on hi ‘S questions further. | ‘Mr. Mole is your master, then? said Hun- ston. “No, sir,” returned the girl, ‘‘but he is my master’s friend.” ‘““ Who is your master?” The girl stared. “Everybody knows my master,” she said; “everybody in this part of the country.” ‘* Perhaps I am an exception,” said Hunston; ‘if you will only say what his name is.” “ He is the great English milord, the million- aire, and English prince, Monseigneur Harka- way. In spite of themselves,the three robbers stared again. It was certainly an extraordinary coincidence. “ Harkaway?” “Yes, sir.” “ And you are takin; tessa Maraviglia to Mr. “Yes, sir.’ *To—to where?” “To our villa.” “Why, I always understood that the Eng- lish Milord Harkaway lived in the great hotel.’ “Did do so, sir. But within the past few days caf he has taken the Villa Del Popola for his and his friends’ occupation.” “The Villa Del Popolo?” Just then, Hunston perceived something fall from the girl’s side, and he hastened to secure it. It was a key. In her fright she did not perceive her loss. ‘* Well—well,” said the gr after coming to a quiet understanding with the two new re- cruits by signs that were unperceived by the lover prisoners, ‘ we shall not im any very serious penalty upon you, nor shallwe detain you long.” The girl began to offer thanks at such an easy a letter from the Con- ole?” escape. 7, The fine you have to pay,” resumed the chief of the brigands, with a merry and mischievous look in his eye, ‘‘is a kiss to each of us.” The girl got very red in the face, and declared she would never consent to this. “Oh, yes, you will,” answered the chief, with a grin. “Never,” protested the girl, ‘never—never!” “You would sooner die first?” said the brigand, with a sham serious look. _ “ Yes. n “Of course. Well, we can accommodate you even there, if you wish it.” a“ ih sir. ”» ‘Oh, yes, we can kill you if you prefer it.” The girl finding them very yielding and easy so far, ad thought that they would never dare offer her violence. But their words now filled her with alarm. The blushes which the brigand’s audacious pro- posal had called up into her cheek faded away and left her as white as a sheet. As for her swain he had not a word to say for himself. ‘Well, we must waste no more time,” said the brigand captain, drawing a long stiletto from his girdle, and testing its edge with his thumb; “‘it’s in very good condition, and you'll be out of the world almost without pain.” fainting. “ T can predict, captai,n” said Toro, ‘that she will alter her mind now.” ; “How?” ejaculated the captain, in affected surprise ; ‘Smpossible!” “TN go further,” said Toro; ‘ T’ll even wager that not only will the young lady relent, but that she will volunteer to give us each a chaste salute herself, of her own free will,” “ What say you, young lady?’ asked Hun- ston. \ “Come, decide.” “Oh, sir!” ; re ae as she faltered she shrank back affright- ly. ‘You see,” said the captain, sleeves, ‘‘she would rather die.’ ; This business-like preparation put the poor girl in a regular fever. e “Qh, Alecco!” she faltered, while her eyes dropped to the ground. ‘‘ What must I do?” “You have no choice,” was the lover’s reply. “Pardon me,” said Toro, ‘there is a choice— death, or a kiss.” The girl wrung her hands, and looked the picture of embarrassment. ‘ “ Ah, well,” caid the captain, tucking up his sleeves to the elbow, and flourishing the stiletto, ‘* that’s all, I suppose. Now for it. He made a step forward and seized the girl by tucking up bis his guard while they pursued their | the wrist. e She shut her eyes and gave a faint scream. ‘*Oh, sir—oh, sir!” she faltered, ‘‘ pray let me kiss you!” | \ **You shall not’ask twice, fair one,” said the brigand. ; e held his face forward ready for the cere- xnony, and she, timidly advancing her lips, just touched his cheek with them. “T hardly felt it,” said he, roughly; ‘this is the way.” So saying, he seized her in his arms, and gave her a kiss that echoed again, and made her lover turn livid with rage. it was not safe he thought, to threaten; but mentally he vowed vengeance. ’ ‘‘Now my turn,” said Toro. He didn’t wait for her timid salute, but hug ging the girl in his big arms, he stole a dozen sses. ‘ Beast!” cried the girl, and she boxed his ears with great Soerey Hunston would not press for his share of the booty, and so the lovers were released, and they made off as fast as their legs would carry them. with a final word of warning from the rigand captain ringing in their ears. “Savages!” cried tue gurl. ‘*Ha—ha—ha!” laughed the robbers. * * * * * * ‘This key,” said the brigand captain, taking itfrom Hunston, ‘‘ is, no doubt, the key of the house, or, atleast, of some room there; and it may make our future operations easier than they would otherwise be.” CHAPTER VIII. THE CONTESSA’s LETTER TO MR. MOLE—ON PLEAS- URE BENT—THE MENDICANT FRIAR—MIDNIGHT MARAUDERS—HOUSE-BREAKING. WueEn Mrs. Harkaway’s maid returned to tha villa, she got scolded for being so long upon an errand of some importance with which she had been trusted. Thereupon, she was prepared with twenty ex- cuses, all of which were anything but the truth. The words of warning which the brigand had os ote after her had not been without their due effect. “She had been detained,” she said, “ by the Contessa Maraviglia for the letter which she brought back to Mr. Mole.” The letter was an invitation to a grand ball which wasjto be given by the Contessa at the Palazzo Maraviglia,and to which the Harkaways were going. Dick Harvey had been at work in this business. and had made the contessa believe indirectly that Mr. Mole was a most graceful dancer, and that it would be a most eternal shame for a bal masque to take placein the neighborhood without it be- ae graced by his—Mole’s—presence. he result was that ete Mr. Mole re- poh foes from the maid the following singular ef- usion: e ‘* Al Illustrissimo Signor Mole,” which, being translated, means: “To the illustrious ‘Mr. Mole.” ‘*Halloo!” said the tutor, looking around him,. end orig his eye upon Dick, ‘ who is this rom iM ge the Contessa Maraviglia,” replied the. girl. Mr. Mole gave her a piercing glance. } The contessa’s letter was a sort of puzzle to poor old Mole. “The Contessa Maraviglia begs the honor of the Signor Mole’s company on the 16th instant. She can accept no refusal, as the féte is special- ly organized in honor of Signor Mole, whose rare excellence in the poetry of motion has ele- vated dancing into an art.” Isaae Mole read and re-read this singular let- ter, until he grew more and more fogged. He thought that the contessa had failed to ex- es herself clearly in English on account of er imperfect knowledge af our lan: e; but he was eecn -AArected In this Impression Wy ‘ one jady in question, it transpired, was Eng- ish. So 1 Mole did what he thought best under the circumstances, and that was to consult with | | Dick Harvey. “Dear me!” echoed Dick, a sage Ny “why, you_have made an impression here, Mr, Mole. “Do you think so?” said Mole, doubtfully. vy sabe question. This contessa is smitten,. aw wii your attractions; but I can assist you ere. “You can?” “Of course.” F ‘ a “Thank you, my dear Harvey, thank you, replied Mr. Mole, eagerly. ‘Yes; I can let the contessa know that there is no hope for her.” ‘ pale
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é was tickled at this. Tsaae Mole’s vanit; ald it would be cruel to unde- ““ Don’ you th ceive her? ““Cruel, sir!” said Dick, with a severe air, **no, sir; I don’t. It is my duty to tell her ” Mr. Mole looked alarmed. “What do you mean?” “That you are a married man.” “*T say, I say——” “Yes, sir; very much married,” pursued Dick, relentlessly; ‘that you have had three wives, and were nearly taking a fourth.” “Dowt, Dick.” “* All more or less black.” ** Dick—Dick!” “However, there is no help for it; you will have to go to this ball.” “Never.” ‘You will, though. The contessa has heard of your fame in the ball-room——” “What?” “In bygone years, no doubt—and she does not know of the little matters which have happened since to spoil your activity, if not your grace,” As he alluded to the “little matters,” he glanc- ed at Mr. Mole’s wooden legs. Mr. Mole thought it over, and then he read through the letter again. “You are right, Harvey,” he said, with anair of determination ; “and my mind’s made up.” gate “So much the better, for your absence would be sadly missed at the ball.” “you misunderstand me, Dick looked frightened. “Don’t say that, Mr. Mole, 1 beg, don’t; it would be dangerous.” “ What on earth do you mean?” Harvey ; I shall not _“Tmean that this lady is English by birth, but she has lived in the land of the Borgias, where they yet know how to use poison.” “Harvey!” : “ And if her love was slighted, she might re- vollect it.” Mr. Mole looked precious uncomfortable. “It is really very embarrassing, Harvey,” said he; ‘‘my personal attractions are likely to get me into trouble.” And yet, in spite of his embarrassment, Mr. Mole was not altogether displeased at the fan- cy. He strutted up and down, showing the fall in his back to the best advantage, and was very vvidently conscious that he was rather a fine _ man. “Yes, sir,” said Harvey, with great gravity; “your fatal beauty is likely to lead you into a mess.” At.the words ‘‘ fatal beauty,” Mr. Mole made a rimace. It was rather a strong dose for even him to swallow. “ Draw it mild, Harvey,” said he, ‘‘pray draw it mild.” Dick shook his head with great seriousness. ,. “Don’t you be deceived, Mr. Mole,” said he; “Cuse the greatest care, for this poor countess is to be pitied. Her love is likely to turn to violent hate if she finds herself slighted—the poniard or the poisoned chalice may yet be called t to play a part in your career.” Mr. Mole turned pale. Yet he tried to ren A hollow, ghastly laugh it was, too, that told ei he felt more plainly than words could have done. “Don’t, Harvey; don’t, I beg!” he said in fal- tering tones; ‘‘it sounds like some dreadful thing one sees upon the stage.” i “Tn all these southern countries, you know, Mr, Mole, a man’s life isn’t worth much.” | “Harvey?” 2 “ A hired assassin or bravo will cut a throat or ‘stab a man in the back for a few franes.” * Oh!” ‘*T should advise you not to keep out after dark—and avoid dark corners. These people can poison you, too, with a bouquet or a jewel. Accept a flower or a nosegay, but don’t smell a |“ Harvey.” " “ Sir?” “Js it your wish to make me uncomfort- _ able?’ ‘‘How can you think it?” “Do yon wish me to dream all night, and peri . Mole, and not to get a wink of Sleep! ; “Certainly not; that’s why I am giving you advice; but pray understand the contessa thinks you are a single man.” i GR, HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE. “Good gracious me; it isvery unpleasant to have a contessa in love with one.” ‘**T don’t know that; most mén wouldn’t say so. There are, Ill be bound, forty men within a mile of this house who would give their ears to have rezeived such a letter. a Mole smiled—a self-satisfied, complacent smile. ““Do you think so?” **T know it.” Mole lifted his collar and shot his cuffs over his hands, as he stumped across the room, and look- ed into a glass. ‘*Well—well, Harvey, Isuppose I must go to the ball; but you will bear me witness that 1 only o for reasons of prudence, and that I am not ed away by any silly reasons of vanity?’ e o ee ” rin ied eee gravely. esides ° h e Certainly.” 2 ‘“* And what disguise would you recommend?” that is a matter for reflection,” said should think that you ought almost to ages the character.” a The character!” said Mole. ‘‘ What charac- ter? ‘‘ A. Terpsichorean personage,” replied Dick, with the air of one discussing a grave problem, “Say, for instance, a ballet girl.’ Mr. Mole gasped. ““No—no; not a ballet girl.” ‘* A fairy queen, then.’ “Don’t, Dick; don’t, I beg.” ‘Or, if you object to the costume of the gen- tler sex, what do you say to the spangles and wand of a harlequin?” “Do you really think that such a costume would become me?” “Do I think?’ iterated Dick. ‘‘Do I know? Of course it would become you. You will look the part to the life; it wants a fi to show off such a dress and to be shown off by it.” ‘But what about my—my wooden legs, Dick?” i if es TH Bre Piet with ae ones; and ere they are,” said Harve: ucing a pair. And so it was settled. fee . Mr. Mole was to go to the ball, and his dis- guise was to be the well-worn spangles and colors of Harlequin. Harvey himself chose a clown’s costume, and carried over his shoulder Mole’s wooden legs, in case anything happened to the cork ones he was walking on for the first time. Harkaway was to go as a knight of old. Magog Brand selected the character of Quasi- modo, the hunchback of Notre Dame. Jefferson selected the character of Julius Ceesar, a costume which his fine, stalwart form set off to considerable advantage. Mrs. ee was to go as Diana, the hunt- Se and Mrs. Harvey made Marie Stuart her choice. Little Emily and Paquita went in dresses of Charles the Second period. These young ladies were escorted by young Jack and Harry Girdwood, who were richly habited as young Venetian nobles of the six- teenth century. As they passed through the garden door a man stood in their path. ‘ Z He wore a long serge gown, with a cowl, like a mendicant monk, and as they approached he put out his o hand for alms. “ Bother the caged said Mr. Mole, tartly. The monk shrank back into his cowl, and stood aside while the Pan. weut by. The garden door was held by the maid servant while eee passed on, and when they were out: of hearing, she erepees a small silver coin into the mendicant friar’s hand. “There,” she said, ‘I can spare you some- thing, father; although those rich English can- not or will not, the heretics and Pagans!” The friar, who was seemingly an aged , muttered his t as the girl retired an closed the door, locking it behind her. No sooner was the door closed, than the men- dicant monk whistled a low but pes distinct note, and lo! two men appeared upon the scene, It looked as though they had just come up trap- doors in the earth, so suddenly did they show in sight. . % Captain Mathias,” said the be Sma monk to the first who came up, ‘‘I have learnt all we wish to know.” “You have?” ejaculated, not the man address- ed by the mendicant monk, but the other. ‘Out with it, then.” ¥ a your impatience, Toro, if you ean.” - “Well then, learn that Mole goes as——” ‘Bother Mole!” interrupted Toro, harshly. “ How does our great foe go?” . locked,” she said to herself. ‘poor Mike, I'm coming, good dog. He heard “ Harkaway?” i Y ” “* As an English knight of old.” “Tt shall be my task,” said Toro, ‘‘to keep up his character, and give it a realistic look by a hand to hand fight.’ “Don’t be rash,” said the mendicant friar, ‘or you may chance to be beaten.” “T can risk my life on it.” “You have—you do; every hour that you live here imperils it. Did you see the party go?” “T did,” said Mathias. The latter was no other than the captain of the brigands. Already they were upon a footing of equality, for the two adventurers had had opportunities, which they had not failed to seize. They had courage, ready wit, presence of mind, boldness, daring, and cunning, and so it fell out, that they who had made the acquaint- ance of the brigand’s gang under such very un- pleasant auspices, became two of the principal members of it within a few days. But to resume. “Tell me, Hunston,” said Toro, ‘‘does Jeffer- son ge to the ball?” “ es.” “ How disguised?” “ Julius Caesar.” The Italian said nothing, but his lips moved, and his lowering brow was as expressive as words could be to hisold comrade, It boded ill for Jefferson. — - They had met in fair fight, and he, Toro, had ‘been defeated. That defeat was bitter as gall to him. He would be avenged. And if he could not es died the doughty Anglo-American, then let him look to it. hat strength and skill failed to achieve, the assassin’s knife would accomplish. ‘*Did you see the girl that attended him to the gate?’ demanded the mendicant friar, or Huns- ton, as it would be better to call him, since there is no further need of concealment. STidid:? . ** And recognized her, Mathias?’ he asked of the brigand captain. “Yes; it is the Ee, wench we stopped with her lover, the coy Marietta.” “Now that they are well off, we may as well set to work,” said Hunston. cad Good. ” Hunston threw back his friar’s cowl and pro- duced a key. “They have had many a he said, with his old sinister ““T dare say.” “Tt was a lucky thing that the dainty little Marietta dropped it.” ‘Yes, it makes matters much easier for us to begin with.” he door yielded to the touch of the sham men- dicant friar, and the three worthies entered the grounds. ; Silently they stepped across a grass-plot, kee ing a thick shrubbery between them and the house as far as they could, when just as they pea the shelter of the trellissed verandah, a og within set up a most alarming noise. he three rob “Curse the beast!” muttered Mathias, tain; “the will ruin us.” aes got ready his long knife and looked avout. But the dog was out of sight. A lucky thing it was, too, for our old friend, lit- tle Mike, for a touch with that ugly instrument would soon have stopped his singing. Now just above the veranda was a half-opened window, and into this Mathias peered anxiously, No signs of Mike. A voice was heard now calling to the faithful ardian of the house to be silent, but Mike re- Fused emphatically to be comforted; thereupon, the person very imprudently called the dog to her and tied him up. This did not quie him. PEG o the person in question tripped down the gar- den to se if there was really any reason for the dog’s singular behavior. n ing down the Se hunt for this,” augh. e cap~ ath she went so close to the veranda, that the skirts of her dress actually brushed aside tlie creeping plants which garnish- ed the trellis work. 5 “Snarling, barking little beast!” quoth Mari- etta to herself, ‘and all about nothing; I wish they would lose him.” But when she got to the bottom of the garden and discovered the garden door open, she altered her tone. “How very silly of me to leave the door un- “* Poor little fellow ; 1 Py fre rs exchanged uneasy glances, - 7 i
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Ley into Jong lookin -glass panel. . with fatigue. 1 HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE. someone, I suppose. Good gracious, what’s that? I thought I saw something moye there. I’m get- ting as nervous as a cat ever since those men stopped us and made me kiss them, the beasts. Ugh! how I loathe them, although there was one of them that was really not very bad-logking. I wonder where that poor old friar went to; what was that? Ob, how nervous I feel. I wish that they had Jeff me someone in the house besides that old deaf Costantino; he’s nice company, truly, for a girl. Bother the dog, what a noise he is aang UP Hf y ‘s And chattering thus, Marietta re-entered the ouse. Meanwhile, Mathias had clambered up theiron balcony, and pushing open the glass door, or rather window, he entered the room. t It was the dining-room, and the remnants of a yery sumptuous repast were yet upon the ta- e, “Tl just take a glass of wine,” he said. He did, too, He took several glasses of wine, and then, as the fumes of the good liquor mounted to his brain, he grew generous, and he lowered a bot- tle She of the window to his two comrades be- neath. Toro peered it, and sucked down a good half of it before it left his lips. Then Hunston finished it off at a draught. When Mathias had regaled himself, he made a move to the door. There was no one about. Not a sound. Now was his time. His object was to as ii the house, and as- certain in what particular part of it the cash, the jewels and the plate were kept. When they had secured these, they could con- tent themselves for the present, at least. Firstly, therefore, he tied up the silver spoons and knives and forks from the dinner table in a napkin, and dropped the bundle into Toro’s hat ' below. Then he crept back ‘through the room into the passage. This done, he waited for awhile to listen, and, assuring himself that the coast was clear, he crept up. mn the next landing there were seven doors. Six were shut, so he aa aie into the seventh room, and just then he heard a noise below. Someone coming upstairs, What could he do? He stole back to the stairs and listened, It was Marietta. Tt was really a most embarrassing job now, for there was no retreat, so he crept upon tip-toe into the room of which the door stood ajar. It was a bedroom, dimly lighted by an oil lamp. iD Ganson glance showed him that his room had only been lately vacated, and that one or more of the ladies had been dressing here for the ball. d Within a few feet of the door was a looking- glass let into the wall as a panel, and reaching ‘om floor to ceiling. ; __ Mathias listened in great anxiety for the foot- Steps on the stairs, and every moment they sounded nearer and nearer. “T hope she will not come in here,” thought the robber, ‘else I shall have to make her sure.” He showed how he meant to ‘“‘make her sure” toying with the hilt of his dagger. Mathias crouched down, and crept under the ust in time, as the pert young lady skipped he room. Her first care was to turn up the lamp, and by its light she looked about her. ids v think they might have taken me to the ball with them,” she said, saucily shaking her curls off her face. ‘ I should have looked better than some of them, I’ll be bound, I’m deadbeat T’vye had all the work dressing all the fun.” them, and they are to get 3 Ms a few minutes, and Ma- She was silent for some thias grew anxious. What could be going forward? He would vastly like to know. Unable to control his curiosity, he peeped out, and then he saw pretty Marietta’s portrait in the She looked prettier than ever now, for, shock- ing to relate, the young lady was undressing. thias was not to say a bashful man, so he did not draw back. 2 : On the contrary, he stared with all his eyes. Pretty Marietta little thought, as she stood be- - fore the glass, that such a desperate villain was » - watching every movement. ier ey _ the vile brigand chief, she walked up and down unconscious that she was watched by before the glass, shooting admiring glances at a over her white and well-rounded shoul- ers. “Dress, and rank, and money do wonders,” she said. ‘ Why are we not all equal? I’m as goo as the best of them, I’m sure, and much better- looking.” With this mixture of feminine vanity and re- publican sentiments she bustled about, putting the room a bit in order. 4 Now her first job was to put away several resses. The first of these was a short Spanish skirt of pink satin, with deep black lace flounces. “‘T wonder how I should look in this?” she murmured. She held up the dress beside her, to test the color against her complexion, “ Beautiful!” Beautiful; yes, this was her frank ye ge and, really, we are by no means sure but that her own estimate was very near the mark. On went the dress. She strutted up and down, and then, when she had feasted her eyes enough upon her own love- linese, she plaited her hair, and, pesene it up into a rich knot behind, she stuck a high com into it, and fastened the thick lace veil about her. Mathias watched it all. He gloated over that pretty little picture, and, shameless rascal! chuckled to think how little she suspected his presence. “There,” said she, folding the veil about her head with the most coquettish manner, ‘‘if I don’t look the prettiest senorita alive, why, call me—call me anything odious—yes, even an En- glishwoman—ha-ha-ha! How that would please my mistress!” . ‘And then she figured about before the glass, and capered through a Spanish bolero, with con- siderable grace and dexterity, while she sang an. impromptu verse to an old air. e verse was naturally doggerel, and may be given in English as follows: ** Sweet Marietta, Rarely has been A sweeter or better Face or form seen; My chestnut tresses, And my Spanish fall, ) Would eclipse all the dresses 2 At the masked ball. Then why, Marietta, Dally? ah, no! Pluck up, you’d better, Your courage and go!”” And as she came to the last line, this impudent little maid whirled around, spinning her skirts about her likea top. Mathias was enraptured. _ With difficulty he kept; himself from applaud- ing. She'd make her fortune upon the stage!” he said to himself, Marietta had made quite a conquest; a double conquest, it might almost be said. The hidden robber was enraptured, and she was scarcely less pleased herself. “T'll go,” shesaid to herself. ‘Whyshould I not? ey’ll never find it out; I can do just as Ceneren’ (Cinderella) did, and who knows but that some prince might fall over head and ears in love with me? I can get back before they do.” Out she skipped too, and tripped down the She was off to the ball. CHAPTER IX. AT TH CONTESSA’S FETE—A ROMANTIC ADVEN- TURE BETWEEN CERTAIN OLD FRIENDS. Tue most brilliant féte of the year was that iven by the rich Contessa Maraviglia at ber pa- Aazz0. All the rank and fashion of the land were there. The Neral itself was a building of great beau- ty, and stood in grounds of wide extent. _ e contessa, who was a widow, had a princely fortune, and she spent it lavishly, too. Upon the es ag of the masquerade the gardens were brilliantly lighted. . Upon the minieture lake there was a fairy gon- dola, with a colored lantern dangling at the prow, and hung with curtains of pale blue silk | man gauze, In this gondola a lady was seated. . She taken to the gondola, not alone for the sake of the freshness of the breéze upon the water, but to read without interruption a letter she had received from a mysterious man who professed to be deeply smitten with her charms, and who, the messenger of love let fall, was a| prince, ; Mey ats, Bond me ae a | thick fall She wore a black domino but was not masked, for as she threw back its folds to breathe more freely, you could see that her only veil was a fall of black lace fastened to a high comb in the back of her head. “ T hope he will not be long,” said she to her- self, while her heart beat high with expectation. “His note says peat. enough on the lake in the fairy gondola. ell, it will aden be nice to be a princess, but Ido hope that his high- ness proves to bea dashing, handsome youth such as Cinderella might sigh for. Hush, boatman!” its Lad Le *“TDo you hear?” ‘Some one singing on the bank yonder? Yes; I hear, lady.” “Row that way.” A voice was heard carolling gently the sere- nade—‘ Fair Shines the Moon To-night.” The voice meant well, evidently, but some- thing rather spoilt the effect. It was not altogether in tune, nor had the singer the best idea in the world of time. ; erhaps his singing was spoilt by excess of ove. Perhaps by liquor. The latter idea was suggested by a certain un- steadiness that would appear to indicate both love and liquor. Be that as it may, the singer was not at all dine of the disadvantages under which he la- re On the contrary, he had the greatest belief in himself. “Boatman,” exclaimed the lady, impatiently, ‘*row me ashore.” Yes, em bt He obeyed, as he spoke, and as the boat ground- ed, the hidden minstrel stepped forward. ‘he gallant was rather a tall man, masked and habited in a long cloak, which almost concealed . a glittering and gorgeous costume beneath, is cavalier hastened to tender the lady his — hand, and to assist her to disembark. As soon as she wassafely upon terra firma, the gentleman led her away to a more secluded_part of the garden, and then ensued a brief, but high- ly interesting conversation. \ It took place in the Italian language. That beautiful tongue was not to say elegantly spoken upon either side. The gentleman spoke as a foreigner but im- perfectly ae OEP with the idiom. “Sir,” said the lady, after an embarrassing si- lence upon his part, “* i to be here.” ; yee I either, my dear lady,” began the gal- ant. But then, aware that this was not exactly what might have been expected of him, he stammered and broke down. “Poor prince,” thought the lad: unladylike chuckle to herself. ‘ r he is.” The cavalier stared at her Coeg ae great eyes in his mask, as he muttered to himself: “She is Laisa Be love with me very badly; T am curious how to learn how a princess makes love. Iam anxious only of course to study it as a matter of curiosity.” : “T ought not to have come here, prince,” said the lady in a nervous tone, Prince! The word made the masked gentleman stare. “Prince! Isuppose that she can’t know I am ve married man, and ane sn at to ane gues- ion. This is popping the question sharply. He had never heen inane ete opt by a lady of any degree, much less by a CESS, SO he was anxious to see how he would begin upon — this occasion. But after they had got toa quiet and remote part of the garden, they came to a dead lock. Not a word was spoken on either side. re “T wish he would say something to me,” thought the lady. She was not used to such bashful suitors. |» “T have wie your appointment, sir,” she said, “ although I fear I am very wrong.” ( “My appointment,” muttered English. Come, Tlike that.” owever, he added in the softest tones he could assume: 5 : Ded RE Fear nothing, princess, T am not a dangerous scarcely know if I ought with a very How embar- e cavalier in - She mit ke he was, though, for as he said this __ he chuckled. Were The lady drop: her eyes before his bold Bice ee lookec i pae as you Piven soit Gast ow this appear encourage the eman, for he seized her round the waist aod presced. a kiss upon the only part of her cheek which was _ left uncovered by her veil. BE SRREA TCC at antl She struggled feebly, oh, very feebly to release _ fi
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fA HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE. nu herself; but that libertine masker held her firm- ly; that is as firmly as possible, for he was not very strong upon his pins. ‘Sir, you must not take advantage of my un- protected situation,” she faltered. “T should be very sorry to, my coy princess,” said the gallant. These words set her heart beating like clock- work. ‘‘He means well,” she thought, growing quite easy in her mind. Meanwhile the ardent young lover, growing bolder by encouragement, wanted to remoye her veil. ‘Grant me one favor, my princess,” he said. ‘Tet me bask in the sunshine of your eyes, let mie feast my vision upon your rare beauty.” The lady was enraptured at such poetical imagery. ‘It sounds like a lovely book,” she murmured in ecstasy. But she would not accede to his request. She was so filled with joy, so supremely happy that she feared to break the enchanting spell by any accident. “Desist, prince,” she said, struggling gently in his embrace. ‘T must gaze upon the angelic face,” said the passionate Adonis. “ Why,” exclaimed the lady, ‘‘since you know | her it so well?” “ Know it!” exclaimed the o Yes. ” "*T have never seen it.” “Yet your letter praises each feature to the skies.” “ My letter!” He was staggered évidently. * Undoubtedly.” _, “T sent no letter.” The lady was amazed. “Tf you sent no letter, why are you here?” she demanded. “Tn obedience to yours,” responded the gal- ant, ‘My what?” “Your note—your ever-to-be-treasured mis- sive,” gushed the swain. f Now what would have followed in the way of explanations it is impossible to say, for at this momentus crisis, a voice close by was heard re- peating softly a couplet heard before: “ Dear Marietta, Never had been A sweeter or neater Face or form seen,” started and screamed,and would have not the protecting arm of the gentle- But her veil fell gallant in surprise. The tad fallen hi man been there to protect her. aside. When the lover saw her face, he was stagger- ed, and nearly iet her fall. ‘ Marietta!” he exclaimed, ‘‘ Marietta! Mrs. Harkaway’s maid, by all that’s wonderful!” “ Oh-ol” screamed the lady, “‘you’re mow on my toe!” saying which, she jerked hersel back, and dragging her foot away, too, down he went. “T's Mr. Mole!” shrieked the lady ; and catch- ing up her pink skirt and black lace flounces, she fled precipitately along the path, leavin, mirer scrambling in the mosbundignified upon the gravel walk. Poor Mr. Mole! _ b But, oh, poor Marietta! how sadly she wasdis- appoirited with her prince! her ad- manner CHAPTER X. ‘MR, MOLE—THE THREE DEVILS AND THER DEVIE- MENT—THE CONTESSA’S JEWELS—AN ALARM, — ‘i Mr. cates weg Mole!” t was Harvey’s voice. Now Mr. Mole. was eonvinced at once that Dick ‘was at the bottom of this comical conspiracy in which he had been made to look so ridiculous, So he resolved at first; not to make ay reply. But Harvey was guided to the spot by infor: gee are ee been furnis! +e him ars r. Mole, and he soon aj red in sight. ; “Mr. Mole—Mr, Mole?” exclaimed Dick, in ve reproof. 4 _ ~ “Help me up, Harvey,” said Mole, ‘and don’t be a fool.” ; f : As bectak? polite.” me) b as polite as you can expect. se Wet do you mean?” me ‘© Oh, you know what I mean well enough.” “Tm hanged if I do!” protested Harvey, stout- ly. 3 ‘is manner age oe Mr. Mole immediately. ®o this led the old gentlemen to reflect. + style of costume which the prince of dar If Dick did not know, it would be as well to keep the adventure to himself. ? ‘*Ts it possible, Harvey, that you don’t know what has occurred?” “You don’t know about Marietta?” “ No. ” This decided Mole. ‘Marietta is here.” “Never!” said Dick, in accents of deep mys- tery. eh fact.” “Never! And who the dickens is Marietta when she is at home?” “Mrs. Harkaway’s maid, to be sure.” Dick burst out laughing at this. “Why, Mr. Mole,” he cried, “‘ what asly old fox you are.” . Mr. Mole stared again. “T don’t ees understand what you are driy- ing at, Mr. Harvey,” said he. * Don’t you, though? well, I do, old sly-boots.” “Harvey! “Oh, don’t you try to come the old soldier over me. ‘‘ Sir!” said Mr. Mole, rearing himself up to his full hight upon his timber, ‘‘I don’t understand your slangy allusions to the ancient military.” + Why, it is clear enough that you brought “TY what?” almost shrieked Mr. Mole, indig- nantly. “Brought her, and your poor wife ought to know of it.” “Sir!” said Mole, “if you are bent upon in- sulting me, I shall leave your company.” “Go it, Mole,” said Dick, laughing until the tears came into his eyes, ‘‘ go it. The factis, you have been sneaking about after that little girl for a long while past; there can be no doubt about it. “Harvey, I repudiate your vile insinuations with scorn, The fact is, that in your anxiety to fix some wickedness never contemplated upon me, ie forget all the most important part of the le What ne that girl has left the villa unprotect- ‘Nonsense! there’s old Costantino there.” “ Useless.”* “And Mike.” ‘He barks, but don’t bite.” i eat you may be mistaken,” urged Dick. ot I. she in: pea me.” “The deuce!” “And she bolted directly I pronounced her name.” “How was she dressed?” Mr. Mole gave a hurried description of Mari- etta’s dress, and they went off in search through the house and grounds after the flighty Marietta. * * * ba % a Tn another part of the grounds three men met. ‘* Hunston. ah “*Good!” “‘ What have you learnt, Toro?” “Not much.” “ And you, captain?” , “Nothing, or next oe) nothing,” was the reply. “ And you, “T have gained knowledge,” answered the latter; ‘‘ , useful knowledge.” The other two laughed heartily at this reply. “You were always of a studious turn of mind, Hunston.” “ Ha—ha—ha!” i It may be as well to mention they had sought a secluded part of the contessa’s gardens, and met now by ai Neca \ They were all three arrayed in that liar ess is popularly supposed to don when he makes his earance to German students, in certain weird wild works of fiction, or in the supernatural ‘ama. ap an dr Tt sounded remarkable to hear these three men, | disguised as devils, discussing matters, generally, in such an off-hand manner. The dresses of all three were alike, nearly in every particular, The only mark of distinction between them was a small straight feather they wore in their caps. j ne wore a ellow feather, Another hi a feather of brilliant red. knew her at once, and what’s more, | f, The third one’s feather was of a bright emerald en. Now these feathers were small, but yet, by reason of their conspicuous colors, could be seen at a considerable distance. “What is it you have discovered?” asked the captain. Rout with it, Hunston,” said Toro, in his old impatient way. eWVell, in the first place,” was Munston’s reply, “our letters to old Mole and to the girl Marietta were perfectly successful.” * Of course.” “The vanity of the one, and the conceit of the other made it an easy matter.” “Tt did.” “T saw the interview from a ae ee of concealment, and took care to lef her know it.” * How?” “By humming her song which you heard her sing at the villa.” he latter looked somewhat alarmed at this. ‘* Was that prudent?” “Of course she did not see me, only we must ‘Now let us get back to the ball room, and see what is to be picked up there.” Back they went, and arrived in the large ball room just as a dance was being got up. The three diabolical companions deemed it pru- dent now to separate, that no undue attention might be drawn upon their movements. d they went sauntering about the rooms, each upon the lookout for any slice of luck which might turn up. unston had added a long red cloak to his costume, so as. to envelop his figure, and cover his arm, for fear of accidentally running across Harkaway or Harvey, or in fact, any of the arty. i je cloak he was wrapped, and silently watching two young and lovely girls, whose grace and elegance were commanding universal Gus en tated’ ity tein, eee ne was fair as a lily, with light, golden, wavy hair, and full blue eyes. 4 This beautiful girl it was who excited Hun- ston’s curiosity. ‘Who can she be? Perhaps Harvey’s daugh- ter,” he thought. Now these two were equally lovely to gaze upon, the beauty of each being of a totally dif- erent character. “Tf we can but spirit little Emily away to the mountains,” said Hunston, to himself, ‘I shall be able to repay them for all I have suffered. Nay, more, I shall be able to satisfy the greed of Mathias and the band, by making the ac- cursed Harkaway disgorge some of his enormous wealth.” A hand was placed upon his shoulder. “ Hah!” “Tt is I,” said a voice, in his ear. And looking up, he beheld the devil in the red feather. ‘* Mathias,” “Hush! I have to reppin a lady now, to whom Iam_ engaged for the dance.” “The dance!” Mathias nodded. ‘She accepted at once a dance with the devil; Pll lead her a devil of a dance.” And the brigand captain laughed hugely at his own conceit. But Hunston was not in laughing humor, “Tm glad to find you so merry, captain.” The Greek did not observe his gloomy manners he only replied: ‘You will be merry, too, when I tell you the cause.” ; ‘‘T have no thought for the pleasures of these fools,” said Hunston, gruffly; ‘‘I only think of business.” “ T too.” “And yet you are going to dance, Captain Mathias. ¥ } . ‘For business reasons, solely,” said the Greek. “ Hohol” “My partner is positively bristling with dia- monds,” said the brigand, significantly. Hunston was interested immediately, “Diamonds?” “ Ay! diamonds; and such diamonds, too. There is one as big as a nut, T swear.” } , ‘“T must see this lady.” ‘©-You shall.” ‘‘ Where is she to be seen?” : oe ae ‘Come with me,” said the captain. Away they went, squeezing through | of dancers and ers, until they came to the smaller ball-room, where a lady stood in conver- wi / Pe } the crowds a
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12- ' HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE. sation with a big man, admirable got up asa knight of the olden time. e lady Hunston recognized at a glance, from the se which Mathias had given of her jewels. Her finely-rounded arms were encircled by bracelets, set with the richest diamonds, that matched a necklet of priceless worth, apparently. She wore a tiara, too, of the same costly <2) } and setting. _ The dance began. It was a waltz. _ Now the gallant Mathias acquitted himself to perfection in the dance, carrying his fair and riehly-attired partner through the crowded room | ed without getting at all i by the dancers, Hunston followed their movements with the eatest Ac eeeeiep interest, and as they shot past im for the third time around the room, he con- trived to take from the Greek captain’s hand one of the lady’s bracelets, which he had with some dexterity removed. The next round he was less successful. As they shot , the brigand’s hand was out- stretched, but Hunston missed it, and a glitter- ing object dropped to the floor. _ Hunston stooped to recover it, when: .“The lady has dropped something,” said a voice, in his ear. \ “What lady?” he demanded, recovering him- self i ae «The contessa.” ** Ah! Isee. But was it the contessa?” he asked. “cc Yes. ”» “Are you sure?” “Yes. Itis the lady dancing with your half- brother.” ace Eh?’ Hunston started a little at these words. They sounded very unpleasantly in his ear. He had evidently been associated with Mathias by the speaker. Now the latter was a strange-looking little be- ing. K stunted man, with broad, square shoulders. and gotup to. represent the description which Victor Hugo has given us of his creation of Quasimodo. “That is the vontessa?” said Hunston, recover- ing = presence of mind. ‘Yes. “Tam very glad of it, for I shall be able to re- store this to its proper owner.” “ Of course.” Hunston arose, and with a slight inclination of the head, crossed the room, as if in search of the contessa, The dwarf regarded him eagerly as he went. “That’s a rum one,” he said to himself. ‘‘ He means to ae the contessa’s bracelet—what a swindle. thought there was something more devilish about him than his dress.” " Hunston fled precipitately to the gardens. Close by the spot where he had previously met A his companion in crime, there was a man await- ing him with a bundle. ‘Matteo is it you?” “Yes, sir.” “Good; give me the other dress out. Quich! I must change, and be back before my absence can be noticed.” As he spokeyhe had already torn from the hands of the man Matteo a pair of trunks of blue cloth slashed with amber silk, and quick as an eye could wink, he was into them. And then he fastened on a similarly-colored mantle. “Tell me, Matteo, does that change me?” “Yes, perfectly.” “Good! Take this.” “What, jewels!” “Hush! hear all, see all, doa say nothing. Away with you, now.” “Yes. ere to?” ‘“ Back to the mountains, where we can always | al: guard what we have made.” 5 “True,” Just then there was a commotion in the ball- ' room, and a voice was heard to out: “The contessa has lost her richest diamonds and other precious stones, There are robbers here. No one must leave the grounds.” ee Heaven!” ejaculated Hunston; ‘‘ we are eee. ‘ CHAPTER XI. HUNSTON’S «DVHNTURE—MOLE IN. A MAZE—HE MEETS AN EVIL SPIRIT—GROSS OUTRAGE ON HIS WOODEN LEGS—MATHIAS IN TROUBLE—THE _ ASSASSIN’S KNIFE. ‘ Quasimono, who had detected one of the devils, _- was Magog Brand. ‘ The audacity of the fearless Greek had carried him through so far, but Quasimodo had spoiled him at last. A number of gentlemen in the company began to inquire into the affair. Prominent among them was Harkaway. He and Jefferson, prompt to act as ever, in- quired into the circumstances of this gross out- rage, and then it was elicited that the depredator was seen last in diabolical costume. “ A devil!” ejaculated one of the company. “Of course, I saw the man myself.” “1. too,” said another. “Yes he wore a red feather in his high crown- t.’ “No,” said another; ‘‘a feather, it is true, but the feather was green, I am sure,” m this, Magog Brand came forward. ‘‘T saw it all done,” he said. ‘‘I saw the man who did it.” ‘What, rob the contessa?” “Yes, and as soon I saw what it meant, I gave the alarm; but the devil disappeared like greased ightning.” 2 f “There!” exclaimed half-a-dozen voices at once, ‘‘I said it was the devil.” ie Yes,” added one of the guests, eagerly. “‘ What colored feather had he? “Red,” ejaculated another, ae a “Green,” retorted the opposite faction, loudly, but Magog Brand said: ‘« Tt was neither red nor green,” said he; ‘“ but a bright yellow.” Now, while this inquiry was being proceeded with, nobody happened to observe one ‘singular circumstance. That was the presence, the whole of the time, in the motley-colored crowd, of one of the dia- bolical trio in question. This very devil no sooner heard the question raised about the colored feathers in their head gear, then he doffed his hat unperceived and pulled out the feather. And then as the controversy grew warmer, he sneaked off. He made with all possible haste for the garden gate. Once here he was about to rush through, when he was accosted by two men, whose uniform gave him an unpleasant twinge. They were gens d’armes. ; “You cannot leave the grounds yet, sir,” said one of them, sharply. : ‘TJ don’t wish to,” replied the devil, promptly. ‘*T come to bring you orders.” “T beg your pardon,” said the gen d’arme. “Aro be been committed.” “ Yes, sir.’ “That is the reason Pig have had your orders to guard the gate. Oh, ci what you don’t know is that the robbery is sup- d°to have been committed by a masker essedas I am. Take particular note of my dress. “Yes, sir.” The gen @arme grinned as he said this. Bicep th eyes open. These are the con- tessa’s particular orders.” ‘Trust me, sir.” / “There is a reward if you capture the thief.” The gen d’arme laughed at this and said, with an air of self-confidence: ‘“‘T think I shall get him.” The merry devil slapped the gen d’arme upon the back, heartily. “You are the sort of man for my money.” Saying which, he turned and left the spot. Making his way to a place in the grounds pre- viously agreed upon, he ran across the brigand Matteo armed with a change of dress for him. The spot selected was up one of the narrowest alleys in the grounds, at the end of which was a species of Hampton Court maze in miniature. Just as the diabolical one was about to divest himself of half of his skin, Matteo gave the arm. “The devil!” ejaculated the masker, which was, perhaps, the most natural exclamation he could make, all things considered. ‘‘ What can this be? Somebody watched me here.” He waited a minute or so in anxiety. \ An unsteady footfall was heard upon the apc walk, and a man in a cloak came stagger- in along, q : “They may call this a grand oy if they like,” he mumbled. ‘TI call it a shabby affair. Why, there’s not a respectable drink in the place. The lucky thing is that I have provided my own. He had a bottle with him, and he sucked at it from time to time a2 he staggered on, until all of a sudden he ran on to the alarmed masker, who Pigs growing impatient to change his gar- men ; , you know it. Well, | bl The staggering one looked up, and seeing such an alarming figure towering over him, he gave a wild howl, and fled. } “The devil—the devil!” he shouted, wildly. ‘Help—help!” “Stop that fool, Matteo, or he will bring the whole house down about our ears.” Matteo seized the merry maker, and was about to make short work with him, when his superior held his hand, ‘“Put by your knife,” he said; ‘‘not that. Hold him tight and threaten him; but no knife.” But for this timely interference, it would have gone hard with the unfortunate new comer, who was our old friend Mole. Mole, it should be noted, had been compelled to change his cork legs, on which he could scarce- ly stand, for his old, familiar stumps, whic’ ar- ith him in'case accident “1r- ry had brought wit! red. “Forgive me, Mr. Devil,” he implored, in drunken tones, ‘‘ oh, forgive me.” “Mole!” exclaimed the devil, in a thrilling voice. ‘‘ Your evil deeds are known to me.” ““Oh—oh—oh!” groaned the wretched Isaac, piteously. “Your time has come.” ‘“* Mercy—mercy!” gasped Mole. ** Never.” ‘Give me a little time, Mr. Devil.” “ce No.” “Oh, do—do, for the sake of my twins,” sald Mole, in his most persuasive manner, ‘“‘ and Pll stand anything you like to—hic—to name. Don’t take, me away, but come and liquor up with me. fe “Silence!” thundered the irritable devil. “Dm dumb,” = “ Away with you, and repent.” Mole staggered off. As soon as he was gone, Matteo assisted his master to change his garments, and in the space of five minutes at the outside, the devil disap- ed, and was replaced by a gay cavalier, ha ited ina rich costume of blue slashed with am- ber, and a broad brimmed sombrero. The excitement occasioned et the impudent robbery of the Contessa Maraviglia’s jewels, had not by any means subsided, so the confusion pre- vailing in consequence was highly favorable to Hunston’s new villany for trapping little Emily. Nearing the entrance to the ball room he came to a conservatory, into which Mr. Mole had strolled, or let us say staggered, and then drop- ped into a seat. Hunston glided in un concealed himself behin: to him. » Mole was bent upon making himself comforta+ 1 reeived by Mole, and some thick shrubs close e. The irrepressible bottle was out again. ‘*T feel,” mumbled Mole, little thinking that there was a listener near, “I feel that I am a devil of afellow. All the ladies love me, and all the men fear me. I’m too much for anyone of them, ha-ha-ha! I’ve taken a rise out of the devil himself!” Here he had a suck at the bottle. “Tm getting | ite familiar with evil spirits to-night,” he said, grinning; ‘‘I don’t think he'll see me again ina hurry—he-he ea He raised the bottle again to his lips, when a ghostly voice sounded in his ear: ** Beware!” E He turned pale, and then got very red in the ace. ““ Who’s there?” said Mole, rigs nervous} aan ae “come in, don’t knock; what a fool am “Remember!” said the same hollow voice as ore, “Oh, Lor’—oh, Lor!” cried Mole; “I’m gone; he’s there again.” \ “* Beware!” i “Tm gone—I’m going!” cried Mole; ‘oh, Lor’ —oh, Lor!” ) And off he ran, Hunston following closely be- hind him. : Now Hunston got near enough to him to see that he was really trying to get little Emily and Paquita to take care of him for a time, and walk with him in the grounds. f “There will be two of them to take care of,” said Hunston, following them up as closely as was prudent; “that complicates matters. I hope Matteo has taken his measures carefully.” -Matteo had. They drew near to the entrance of the maze, and Hunston pegen to look anxiously about him for Matteo and the rest of their accomplices. — f ‘**T think we had better return,” he heard little - Emily say. . , yi Suddenly a whistle was blown, and five or six men sprang out from the maze. . 4 Si
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y HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE. 1s In less time than it takes torecord the outrage, ;made a false step, and he hurried through the the two girls were seized and_ borne off in stout relentless arms, their cries being stifled by thick wraps thrown over their heads. “%o the small gate,” exclaimed Hunston. Mole recognized the familiar voice of Hunston. and the whole danger flashed into his mind at once, sobering him most effectually. ‘Funston, you villain, I know you!” he cried. | —— * And I will lose my life rather than harm should come to these dear girls.” | Hunston turned and faced him savagely. “Tf you know me, Mole,” he said meaningly, “ig et are of Lea : ‘ Jole’s only reply was to apple with him, with all his piebte a wort | But the foolish’ old man was hurled to the ‘ound, and then one of the brigands fell upon im, brandishing a huge knife. Hunston here interfered, and gave a command which made the men laugh very heartily. A fresh cutrage was perpetrated, and in the space of two minutes, Mr, Mole found himself alone, and on his back. “Hunston, you black-hearted thief,” he cried, ‘Pll follow you if——” He tried to rise, but down he went again. He was lop-sided. And why? The brigands had amputated one of his wood- en legs. * * * * * Pewee Leaving them for a moment, let us return to Mathias. That daring scoundrel was not satisfied with having escaped a great danger scot free, and madea very rich prize,’ but he must needs re- turn to the Palazzo Maraviglia in another dress, in quest of fresh plunder. The fact was that he was flushed with wine. Else he would have thought twice of return- ing. Mingling with the crowd in the large ballroom, he came to a group discussing the late robbery in great excitement, and as he was pressing for- ward to learn what he could, he became entan- gled in a lady’s lace flounces, He turned sharply to apologize, andrecognized the figure at once. “The lovely Marietta,” he exclaimed. She heard him, and made off to the other end of the room, closely followed by Mathias, who had conceived a violent fancy for her. ‘ st Stay) senorita,” he exclaimed, seizing her and. ‘What do you want with me?’ said Ma- rietta. “Only to plead——” ‘ Nonsense,” she exclaimed, interrupting him abruptly ;. “‘ you don’t know me.” “Let me plead—” *¢ Bother !’ “Nay,” said the persistent-robber, ‘‘if you will not hear me speak, hear me sing.” 5 And then, being an admirable mimic, he imi- tated her strut before the looking-glass, and eral coquettish behavior in the dressing- room at the villa, while he sang in a falset voice: : ' “ Sweet Marietta, Rarely has been A sweeter or better Face or form seen, Dear Marietta!” “Hah!” cried the girl, starting back as if she had been shot. ; Her first impulse was to faint. But as soon as she had gained the cooler air -without, she recovered, and collecting her senses a ae she gave a pretty shrewd guess at the truth. She was a silly, yet not a bad-natured girl. She saw her duty plainly enough. ‘She must make herself’ known at once to her r. Harkaway was close at hand, discussing the robbery still with Jefferson. The whole of this party were of course known to Marietta; so she made straight up to Harka- way and said, hurriedly: > “Have that man seized, sir—see, that one who is following me. Iam Marietta. He has just said somet! to me, which convinces me that he was hiding in the villa to-night.” “Halloo!” exclaimed Harkaway, not a, little startled at this sudden address; ‘why, what in Heaven’s name——” “Lose no time,” interrupted Marietta eagerly, “or he will go—see, he has taken tho alarm.” “The girl’s right,” said Jefferson, striding off after Mathi : ; crowded room towards the door, and was just passing out, when a dwarfed and ugly figure leaped upon him. So sudden was the attack, that Mathias was eet and together they rolled upon the oor. “Let go!” said the Greek, fiercely, ‘or I'll “Not me!” exclaimed Magog Brand—for he was the Greek’s assailant. ‘tl know you, my yellow-feathered’ devil, even though you have shed your skin!” ‘‘Let go,” hissed the Greek ear ey with com- preesed lips, ‘‘or I'll have your life!” “Tl not let go,” cried the brave little Brand. A A have got you, villain, and will hold you. ! Mathias scrambled up, and tried to fly, but he was met with a blow from Jefferson’s fist which might have felled an ox in the shambles. e dropped lifeless on the ground beside Ma- gog. Rud then a sudden outery arose; for it was found that in that brief struggle, poor Magog Brand had been cruelly used. A long-bladed poinard was buried up to the hilt in his side. Poor Brand! Death must have been almost instantaneous! They tore the mask from Mathias’ face, and thereupon an agent of the secret police stepped forward and made known who it was. ‘«This is the notorious Mathias,” he said. “One of the most daring brigands hereabouts; we have been wanting him badly for some time past.” “You have got him,” said Harkaway, “‘ but oh!” he added, glancing at the lifeless form of Magog Brand, ‘at what a price for us!” At this juncture Harvey reached the spot, and taking in the whole scene ata glance, he dropped on his knees beside the body of Magog Brand, where Jefferson was already kneeling, seemingly half ea oy by the catastrophe. ‘‘He has fainted,” said he to Harvey in ex- planation. Harvey shook his head mournfully. “He'll never faint again, Jefferson.” “What?” “ Never.” “You surely—no—no. Brand, dear old boy, look up.” He faltered and broke down, “Yes, Jefferson,” said Harvey, in deep emotion. “Poor Magog Brand is at the end of his trou- bles and pleasures alike—he is dead!” CHAPTER XII. THE PURSUIT OF THE BRIGANDS—THE BATTLE— VARYING FORTUNES—HOW HUNSTON AND TORO WERE LAID BY THE HEELS. CONSTERNATION was upon every face. The catastrophe was so sudden and unlooked me that the people about were half stupefied with ear. A dreadful picture the group presented. On one side hay poor Meaoe’ Beacid, lately so full of life and animation. On the other was his assassin, felled by the dead man’s best friend, the doughty Jefferson, and with scarcely more life in him than his victim. And while the people were staring hopelessly at each other thus, a voice was heard giving the alarm hard by. “ Poor Brand, your murderer shall not escape,” said Jefferson, bitterly. The noise continued, and presently the voice was reco : ‘* It is Mole,” cried Harkaway, in alarm. He was right. Just then the poor old gentleman ap d si the scene, crawling along as fast as te was able. ‘“Harkaway, Jefferson, Harvey!” he cried. ‘“What’s the matter?” “Murder, abduction!” returned Mole. ‘‘ Hun- ston is here.” “By Heaven! I thought it,” ejaculated Jeffer- son. ‘He has carried off Emily and Paquita.” “What?” ‘*T interfered, but they were too many for me. See how they have used me,” ‘‘Was he with the brigands?” Cemanded Hark- away. ‘‘T suppose so. A whole mob of ruffians.” ‘“ Where are they gone?” *« By the small gate.”. A hurried explanation ensued with the agent | none other than Jack Harkaway. ‘‘ This of the secroé police, who gave them a few words A ‘The latter now began to perceive that he had| f comfort, our party. ‘I hope Dick is safe.” “He'll never be able to pass my men at the gate,” said the officer, with great confidence. This was doubtful. They knew too well Hunston’s boldness and ae But they lost no time in getting up a pursuit. The contessa’s stables were W@ll furnished, and two horses were speedily saddled for Harkaway and Jefferson, Harvey, too impatient to wait for a mount, had rushed wildly away in the direction of the small gate followed by Mr. Mole. Here he saw to his dismay that a scramble had taken place, in which the gens d@’armes had got decidedly the worst of it. The two who had been on guard at_ the gate had got very roughly handled, one having a broken crown and the other showing an ugly wound in the side. “They have gone this way, then?” exclaimed Harvey, eagerly. “ Yes. ” “Which way?” ‘They made for the right,” faltered one of the wounded men. } “Tt it long?” ‘No; a few moments.” “They cannot get far,” said the gen d’arme | with the broken pate; ‘‘the two girls were strug- sling: hard with them.” f i urrah!” cried Harvey. ‘I'll save my child yet. f “You are not first in the hunt,” said the other gen Varme., speaking with evident pain; ‘' there are two black men after them.” “That must be Sunday and Monday,” exclaim- ed Harvey. And off he ran. He bounded over the ground like a deer, and when he got about a mile further on, ho came suddenly upon two men struggling. One of them was a negro. Who, in fact, but our old friend, the Prince of Dimbi, the faithful Monday. The other was one of the Greeks, a face un- known to Harvey, but one who has already figured in these pages. atteo! And lying on the ground near him was a brig-" and, struck down dead by brave Monday. As Harvey came up, if was nearing the end of what had been a precious tough fight. Monday was uppermost, and Matteo, who had gradually succumbed fo the wiry negro, was by this time in a very queer way indeed. Monday held him by the throat, and in spite of his desperate efforts to set himself free, Matteo had lost his breath. And there he lay completely pet : “There, you dam tief!” exclaimed the Prince of Limbi, ‘‘take dat, an’ dat—an’ dat, an’ now, at the negro’s by golly, have dis fora little bit in.”, At every word he pressed harder and harder and jerked his adversary back. The ‘‘ little bit in” settled Matteo completely Something seemed to crack in the wretched Greek’s throat, and he dropped back. ss Monday—Monday !” cried Harvey, eagerly; ‘*where are they?” ‘“Halloo, Massa Dick!” said faithful erent “Tse gwine to give this fellar toko an’ den nf jine Phe “He’s done for,” said Dick, hastily. ‘‘Come now.” “He might come to,” said Monday, in some doubt. “No fear.” Ff nae ell never trouble any one more,” re- “ Why, turned ‘Harvey; ‘“‘tell me, where have they gone?” “They went straight on.” “This road?” “ Yes. ” “Good. Come or stay. Vl go,” exclaimed Harvey. And off he ran. rape ag ot his silent enemy a shake to see if it was all over. ‘“He’s a gone coon,” he said to himself. ‘ Til bolt off after Massa Dick.” Away he ran at a good swinging trot. So about ten minutes more he came up witk And this was under the most alarming circum- stances, Not wry peed after this a horseman dashed up to the spot, and only drew rein to give a glance at the lifeless form of the wretched Matteo. ‘““He’s dead,” said the horseman, who was looks — ickor some of Nop like some of Dick’s handiwork. | ¢
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u% HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE. Saying which, he whipped up his horse, and tore on at a lop. z ~ A very few minutes after this he came up with the’brfyands with their captives. Just in the nick of time. Hunston and Toro were there both with their hands full, while the Greeks had all their work to do to take care of the two captive girls. Little Emily and Paquita, having now re- covered from their surprise, were lending assist- ance to the cause by keeping all the Greeks fully occupied in looking after them. And while they were thus occupied, Sunday and Dick Harvey were engaged with Toro and Hunston. Dick had rushed so violently upon Hunston that the latter was bel non over, and it looked as though Harvey was about to make short work with his old enemy. ; But alas for Sunday! poor negro was overmatched. heart was good, but the weight and en- ormous strength of the Italian were too much for him to vanquish. That he had not as yet succumbed to Toro, was ee Googe to his vastly superior agility and ac- tivity. It was all in vain for the Italian ruffian to try and close with him. The His Sunday would not have this. He knew that his chance lay in keeping Toroat a respectful distance. And so he danced around him. ping an oc- ee smart rap which goaded the Italian to ury “ce elp!” cried Hunston. ‘‘ Cut him down! cut him down!” One of:the brigands rushed at Harvey knife in hand, and thus created a momentary diversion in his favor. Had not Harkaway just then appeared upon the scene, it might have gone hard with his com- rade Dic Prompt, however, to act at this critical junc- ture, Harkaway spurred his horse into the group and rode them down. + Then reining up, he flung himself from his horse, and went into the mélée. “Tm in it, Dick, old boy,” cried Jack; ‘‘here’s one for Harkaway.” “Hurrah!” shouted Dick, in great excitement. ' “ A Harkaway—a Harkaway to the rescue!” Toro turned to Harkaway with a cry of aes “Curse you!” he shouted; ‘‘P?ll have your life now, or you shall have mine!” oo by means,” said old Jack, cheerfully. “ Cur 1? “Come, now,” said Harkawa: “T can’t stand that; take with subdued ; Ss {? : rage, nd before Toro knew where he was, he got it Tt was not as pleasant as he could have wished when he did get it. 5 ; A devil of a thud it came upon his nose, a fair blow with Harkaway’s fist, and being delivered straight from the shoulder, it seemed to the Ital- ian like the kick of a donkey. Toro shook all over. His eyes flashed fireworks, and he was half stunned for the moment, Harkaway’s triumph was but py td One of the Greeks who was watching the con- flict. between these giants of the combat with great interest, had by now crept up behind Jack, and seizing him suddenly aro the middle, hurled him to the ground. “ Ha-ha!l” yelled oro. And bounding forward, he fell upon Harka- ' way, knife in hand. eried, in fiend-like joy. The knife gleamed in the air. A piercing shriek from little Emily was heard. A ery of fear from Paquita, and suddenly the latter, disengaging herself m. her ‘captors, bounded forward and seized Toro by the hair. She di him back with all her strength, and, little as it was, it saved the life of Jack Harkaway. Jack put forth all his strength at this most critical juncture, and succeeded in grappling once more with his herculean opponent. Toro lost his balance. A moment more and he was rolling upon the ground in deadly battle with brave Jack ‘ka- “ At last—at last your life is in my hands,” he if we $0 fierce a strife could not last long. _ followed by Jefferson and. sev Pikes contessa’s féte. _ The In the heat of the combat cries were heard en- couragin; kaway and Harvey to fresh exer- tions, and up dashed the bold Monday, closely eral gentlemen ‘ks now began to lose heart. Pa sil cee é ae odds were veering around to the wrong side. Greeks can fight moderately well when they are three or four to one Englishman, but when the numbers are equal, they do not care to pro- voke hostilities. And so they blew upon their whistles for as- sistance, and soon the answering calls came in every direction, causing the gravest fears to the Harkaway faction. “ Hal” ejaculated Jefferson; ‘‘ they are com- ing to help you. But at least I'll make sure of | hi you, Master Toro.” The Italian did not shirk the encounter. Toro, to do him justice, was, with all his faults, no coward. He had felt the weight of Jefferson’s arm and he had reason to remember it. Yet he met his old adyeraary, boldly. Jefferson fell upon the huge Italian with tiger- like fury, and in spite of his prodigious size and weight, he lifted him in his arms, swung him around, and hurled him to the ground. The Greeks now seeing their leaders in such dire peril, thought of i gs themselves by the most dastar expedients. “Kill the girls!” cried one of them. The hint was caught up with aoe A savage yell responded to the bloodthirsty suggestion, and the lives of the two innocent girls were in real peril. / ‘Look to the girls!” shouted Dick Harvey, who was fully occupied with two of the Greek brig- ands who were pressing him closely. There was a cheer in response to this appeal, and over went two of the Greeks. Jefferson, too, lent a hand at this juncture. Finding himself free from Toro’s attentions, for the huge Italian had received sich a desper- ate shaking with his fall that he was not fit for much now, he rushed into the mélée and dealt out such slogging blows that there were at_least a dozen bleeding noses and black eyes distributed amongst the bandits in rather less time than it takes to note the fact. ; The Greeks were thoroughly discouraged. The unpleasantly British mode of attack was not at all to their tn ing. The could do pretty well with knives or swords or eyen with firearms, but they could only, re- gard men who used their fists in the light of sav- 28. oe Gradually they retreated before the fierce on- slaught of the Britishers and the gallant Yankee Vv. ally. This was no small triumph. The brigands mustered at least twenty men. Their enemies were five. The five were Harkaway, Harvey, Jefferson, and the two negroes, Sunday and Monday. The chicken hearted Greeks, however, did not altogether turn tail, for ere ol could get fairly off this hardly contested field, they received con- siderable reinforcements. About ten more Greeks putin an appearance. A Tagged, raffianly crew, and ill-armed. The Harkaway party were not armed at all. The Greeks fell back and made attempts to re- form in something like good order. But Jefferson saw the danger and he followed them up closely. Jack and Dick Harvey were at his heels. Neither of our old friends were inferior to the bold Jefferson in courage; but they did not sess his great advantages of size and strength. Jefferson’s right arm went out likea ig edo ram, and each time he struck out, down droppe aman. At all events, the brigands did not give any particular signs of coming up for a repetition dose. The huge American dashed into the thick of the enemy. - r little Magog Brand The assassination of had fired his fury, and his charge was something Cc. _ He dashed into the midst of the half-cowed bandits, and swinging his arms around him like the sails of a windmill, he “‘ grassed” a man at every stroke. But this could not last for mes ” As the Greeks grew stronger in numbers, they stood upon the defensive. They were reassured. . They had seven-and-twenty men against the ve. The five, too, large-hearted though they were, had the two girls t6 look after. 3 ; Amongst the latest comers upon the bandits’ side was one man who was a petty officer of ‘the brigands, and he gave a few hurried com- mands which had the effect of putting Hark- away ee hae into a very awkward pre- dicamen’ “Toad and fire,” said the brigand. ‘Shoot them all down.” F } ; If they could but succeed in getting a shot or two at the bold Jefferson, or at any of the party, it would speedily be ail over with them. But now, when individual bravery could no Sy avail them, they had a rare slice of uc Suddenly a rattling volley of musketry was heard, and three of the Greeks bit the dust, while a number of cries told that several were t. And then a detachment of gendarmes dashed up into the open at a swinging trot. And who headed this very welcome party?! Who but two youths that have been heard of before in these pages! Who indeed but young Jack Harkaway and his friend Harry Girdwood : CHAPTER XIIL SUNDAY RUBS OFF AN OLD dcorm—THE BRIGANDS —WHAT HAPPENED AT THE PORTER’S LODGE—A STRANGE BLIND BEGGAR. “FURRAH!” ‘Give them another.” ‘Load again!” ** Another Moet 1? A rapid, irregular discharge followed, and the Greeks, with cries of fear and rage, a their arms and fled precipitately, panic-stricken. The gens d’armes followed them up, and several were ocked over and secured; and behind them the brigands had left no less than seven of their number who had not been able to get off. Among those seven were two men that it was no small gratification to the Harkaway party to - see once more in their power. These two men were Hunston and Toro, the Italian. ' Sunday stood over the latter, leathering into his fhalf insensible carcass in a way that threat- ened to cover it with bruises, and at every blow he had something fresh to say. “Take dat!” he exclaimed, punching into Toro’s ribs, ‘‘ you dam nigger!” Toro, dazed with what he had suffered in his sheine, could offer no resistance. re dere’s another, you ugly tief!” said the virtuous Sunday. ‘ll gib you what for; you shall hab what Paddy gib the drum, you ’fernal black skunk; ; show yar what J en up de orchard is, you—you Italian organ-grinding swee, ou chestnut-munching beak ? : . tort Sunday had never forgotten his first acquaint- ance with Toro. } The reader will doubtless bear it in mind, since with it is connected one of the most startling epi- sodes of Jack Harkaway’s history, in his voyage around the world with young Jack. It was at the hotel in New York that the Hark- aways first met with ree too, for here they were the means of rescuing him from the brutal violence of the ruffian Toro. It was, in fact, this which led up to that scene ws terror—the firing of the hotel by Hunston and ‘oro. Sunday had suffered at Toro’s hands, but had never had his whack back. But now the darkey snowed the half-insensible Italian the full signification of “John up de or- — chard,” and likewise of ‘‘ what for,” and “what Paddy gave the drum.” * * * * * * Hunston and Toro were thrown into prison with the few ye eet captured, and the discom- — fited chieftain, Mathias. _ \ Such was the end of their exploit. 7 When once they were in prison, however, it re- quired some exertion on the part of the authori- ties to keep them there. The gang were unceasing in their endeavors to lA tiifiees of every Kind were tried ifices of every were tried to accomplish _ it, but the Harkaways had foreseen that no et : would be left unturned by the murderous friends of the captured robber; and they knew the good _ ‘orewarned, forearmed.” ch they were confined was es old-fashioned sayin, 4 : The prison in whi situated at the waterside, and it was a ble by boat, where the entrance was low vaulted ayer The day after the capture of the notorious _ robbers, @ poor cobne obbled up to the por- ter’s lod , dragging himself painfully along by the aid of a stick in onehandand a crutch under ove off,” said the porter ftky; “we have nothing to give mies sare wake ; “T don’t ask vour charity,” replied the crip-_ Z nie Khel Ue ey tate a he Bs ie Lat) ake at roacha- neath a
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HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE. ple, humbly; ‘‘accept this, good sir, offering.” f And then, to the porter’s surprise, he dropped a coin into his hand. peek The porter looked hard at the coin in his hand, and then at the cripple. : He was a man of no sentiment, this porter and so he asked the generous denor bluntly wha 4 he wanted for the money. j : 4 “T only want to show you some consideration 2 and kindness, if possible, to some of the unfortu- %\nate inmates of this place,” was the reply. ** Prisoners?” ¢ “ Yes.” “Tf you expect that,” said the porter, “you had better take back your money, for I have nothing to do with the prisoners.” The cripple looked grave, and he muttered to himself: ‘The fool is beastly conscientious. If he had only proved a bit of a rogue, there was a chance —the ass!” : But he did not mean to yield the point yet. “You are a very good at e said to the orter; “‘a worthy, honest fellow, and you will now that I don’t mean to offer you anything like a bribe.” The porter stared. “ A bribe!” he said, with an expletive. ‘‘ You had better not.” SNOT “‘ Ahem!” coughed the cripple. ‘‘My friend, T have confined in this prison my son, a poor, mis- guided boy-——” ‘“‘They are mostly that,” said the porter, shortly. “But he is innocent.” “They are all innocent,” said the porter. “ Au? “According to their own showing.” “But my boy is.” * Nodoubt.” “And I oe want to beg you to do what you ean to soften his lot—a hard lot it is, too.” “T can do nothing, I tell you,” said the porter; ““T never see the prisoners, “T thought——” ‘At least, when I say never, I mean only when they are allowed to walk in the prison yard.” “That is here?” 3 “ Yes. ” t. When is that?” . _ “Once aday; sometimes more than that, if the _ doctor orders it.” : “The doctor must order it, then,” said the cripple to himself. * Whatis your sonin for?” asked the porter. “For an unfortunate resemblance he notorious brigand.” ‘* Bah!” said the porter. ‘‘ They don’t imprison aman for being like another.” “Yes, they do; my unlucky son has been taken for Mathias the brigand.” “What!” ejaculated the doorkeeper, ‘“‘do you mean that Mathias is not Mathias?” 3 “T mean that my son has been taken for Ma- thias, to whom, indeed, he is so like that nothing but the capture of the real culprit can save my son. The doorkeeper eyed the cripple sharply. But the latter stood it coolly enough. _ Well,” said the door-porter, “if that is the ease, it is certainly a very hard job for yourson; what do you want me todo for him? I can’t let him out.” f 3 “My friend,” exclaimed the apres “think you 1 would suggest such a thing? No, alll would ask of you is to soothe him with a kind word.” **T}) tell him when next he comes out.” *< At what time did you say?’ asked the crip- ' ple, looking on the ground as though he only put _ the question casually, _ “At twelve.” : The cripple’s eyes glistened as he heard this. “‘ Well—well,” he said, pressing some more money ee ine reine hand, “Vi oe again, and perhaps you may have seen my boy, and comforted in With iis assurance that th save him, in spite of all the ill these accursed English people can work by the aid of their eg wach Me 4 _! “Oh, that’s it, is it?” said the porter. ‘The _ ~ English are at work in it, eh?” ~ “Yes. They owe him some spite, and money, you know, can buy anything—anything.” And blessing the gate-keeper, he hobbled off. “ * * * ae * 2 ‘ ____ Near the prison he overtook a blind man beg- while stopping to dro a coin in his hat, ae le tinteront i ar biaer rs toa| ti as a peace] And the blind man turned his head-to the right, and to the left, almost as though looking out to see if they were unwatched. “Yes; the prison yard is only the other side of that gate. Now that gate is kept by a porter who is already ours.” * Good—good, Tomaso!” quoth the blind man, “Now, listen.” “Go on,” returned the blind man. * At noon the prisoners are in the yard. If we could but get that gate open for an instant, at have our men ready hereabouts for a rush—— “ Yes—yes.” “Who can tell what may happen?” eee ee again! Ha-ha-ha! that’s brave, that is. hy, the mob of idle sightseers who crowd about the prison gates at noon to watch the prisoners, might be poor blind wretches, or helpless cripples like you and I.” “Of course.” “And if the gate is left open but one instant Ps single inch, no more—why, worlds might be lone. ‘“A horse ready saddled near at hand might be worth thinking of.” * And asmall keg of gunpowder blown up un- der the archway by the waterside entrance would divert attention.” “Tomaso,” ejaculated the blind man, “ you’re born to be a captain of brigands some time!” CHAPTER XIV, HOW TOMASO HELPED HIS FRIENDS IN TROUBLE— THE SKIRMISH IN THE PRISON—MATHIAS THE BRIGAND. j Tomaso, before the day was over, changed his garments and abandoned crutch and stick, and ‘What is that?” “Murder.” Murder!” And the German traveler looked inexpressibly shocked. ‘““Murder is a capital crime in every land.” “ And rightly, too,” said the visitor, ‘‘rightly, too. But, sir, excuse my curiosity——” “Ask all you will,” returned the aha eee “This man had, I was told, a_ bold, dashing fellow to second him in all his exploits.” “An Italian?” ae No. ”» * An Englishman?” “No—no, sir, you mistake; I mean a Greek—a handsome, dashing fellow—a great favorite with the ladies—brave and daring.’ “© And how is this Apollo called?” ** Tomaso.” ; ne governor burst into a loud fit of laughter at this. : “You are altogether mistaken about that brigand—that Tomaso. He is a scrubby and ill-favored scamp, a arey crawling rascal, capable of all the villany of his master, but not of his courage.” : Had the governor been looking at the visitor's face just then, he might have had his suspicions aroused, The sham German philanthropist glared fero- ciously as this description was given. The prisoner, who was seated at a rough deal table at the further end of the cell, here arose at the jailer’s order, and came to the window. ; A single glance sufficed to show that a very noticeable change had taken placein the appear- ance of Matthias. His face was pale and haggard, and the whole of one side of it, the eye, cheek bone and fore- head, was fearfully bruised. This was the mark that Jefferson had set upon when he turned out with flaxen-dyed hair and | him. spectacles, and presented himself at the other great entrance of the prison, as a German trav- eller who desired to go over the place, no one could possibly have imagined it to be the old pol te whose paternal lamentations had so touched the door eeper’s heart. “You haye got here a notorious brigand, as I have heard tell,” said the visitor. ‘We have, sir,” was the governor's reply; “a very remarkable man he is, too.” _ “Ah, so I have heard,” said the visitor, ‘‘He is called Demetrius, I believe.” ‘Nay; his name is Mathias.” _The visitor looked surprised at this informa- ion. ‘‘Mathias—Mathias!” he repeated to himself. “Twas misinformed then. I certainly thought that his name was Demetrius.” The governor smiled. “You may be right all the same,” said he. “ How so?” “Why, Mathias is but his avowed name; he may be known by a dozen different aliases.” “Ts it possible?” ejaculated the sham traveler. “Indeed it is. These robbers are mostly adepts at disguise. Would you like to see this Mathias?” demanded the governor, courteously. * Vastly,’ z “Well, sir, ’'ll only warn you of one thing.” “Indeed! What is it?” _ i ae cise panes awaits you in this.” “*How so?” . “ Tnstead of seeing a ferocious fellow, such as you ae expect, Mathias isreally a very pleas- ant an an innocent-looking man.” The eorane of the prison then led the visitor through the long stone corridors of the place where Mathias was confined. They stopped before a door of great thickness | heavily barred, and studded with iron. bolts and nails. The governor tapped at a small ted trap in the door, and it was pulled aside. a : At the grating a broad-shouldered fellow ap- peared, who touched his cap at the visitors. “So that is Mathias,” said the German gentle- man. _ ‘‘No—no,” said the governor; ‘‘that is the jailer who is shut up with him.” «Ro that he 3 0 that he may be watched night and day; the authorities aiave doomed him pdt, “To what?” 4 _ “To death,” replied the governor, in a low but impressive voice. “He is young.” 4 { ‘In years, yes,” answered the governor, “‘ but old in crime. This man has been guilty of near- ly every crime under the sun—brigandage is one of his least offenses. His last exploit is the | do. worst.” a Nat This was the bold American’s only ven; ce for the death blow which the brigand had dealt upan ag faithful friend and companion, Magog rand. Jefferson’s right arm came down like a steam hammer, and any man who had felt its full force as the scoundrel Mathias had did not for- get it very readily. Such a desperate shaking had it given Mathias that he had not yet recovered. The bold, defiant bearing of theman was gone, and he looked ten years older than when Tomaso and he had last met. It struck the visitor at once. “Dear—dear me,” exclaimed the latter, ‘is it possible that this can be the redoubtable Mathias?” “Tt is he,” said the governor, ‘‘ yet scarcely so say as is his wont, eh, Mathias?” : ‘he prisoner shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “ Laugh on, your excellency,” he said, rather bitterly, “itis ‘your turn now.” “Now!” - aan now. a may not always be.” sd he surely you never think of getting out “Indeed, I think of nothing else morni noon, and night.” ~ sr The governor gave as lance about. He looked towards the jai om Now the oc was ahuge fellow, over six feet high and broad in proportion, one who could have tackled Toro hi ,as far as weight and sheer brute strength went. “Your excellency,” replied Mathias, ‘‘when I leave this place, my exit will be due to no vio- lence. Badasi am,I am not altogether what they would make outs” fare “Poor Mathias!” said the governor, ironically, “one would almost think that murder was no his line of business.” aa? oy “Your excellency,” said the prisoner, drawing near to the grated window, “I repent sincerely . of that poor little gentleman’s death; it was no assassin’s stab in the dark, but a most up- fortunate blow in a fight, remember.” “Bravo! Mathias! bravo!” ejaculated the visitor. : The prisoner looked up. A strange expression flitted across his face. Mathias was an adept inthe art of dissimu- lation, and his face was schooled to tell neither more nor less than he wished. “Now, your excellency,” said the visitor, st this rascal appears strangely self-possessed.” “ What does it mean!” “ Brag.” ‘“ Humph!” ae “Ab, you do not know him, sir, as wellasT “ Perbaps not; but it might just be possibl
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16 HARKAWAY TO THE RESCUE. that he is in league with some of his comrades outside.” The governor smiled incredulously. “Tmpossible.” “What if that scoundrel, Tomaso, of whom we were speaking, should be at work?” Tho prisoner’s @ egies at this word. A slight flash o: lligence passed between the prisoner and the visitor. It was but momentary, and so slight as to be utterly unobserved by either the jailer or the governor. * And if such could be the case, sir, what could po possibly do, eh? What on earth, that’s what ‘there's no saying.” “Indeed, you’re right.” “Ont: he ought to be well guarded when you chan from one prison to another——” - StS p, my dear sir, why change him? He will never leave this place alive,” said the Eoemet: “Never?” ** Never!” “But surely you don’t ae ste prisoners all confined in this stifling place ** We do, though.” * And never let them breathe the air? Why, it is torture.” “They do breathe the air. Atnoon every day they are allowed to walk for an hour in the prison yard.” “ At noon?” * At noon.” The visitor fixed his eyes strangely upon the prisoner. “Ve if I maybe allowed to trespass gain, should like to sco how this fellow bears himele in the yard amongst his fellow crimi- nals, * By all means.” fe come, then, ab noon.” # * * * At noon next ani the German traveler was as good as his word. The governor, full of his wonted courtesy, ac- companied him to the yard, where all the pris- oners were walking around two and two. Some of the more desperate men were fastened by a single handcuff to the wrist of another man—a warder. : Of this category was “cos brigand Mathias. His companion was ah meets ellow who topped him by ear ant oe ay _ wae were secure. ether a strong—i' slender—pair of anloutte ¥: oe The visitor’s countenance fell when he observed this, lt upset all his plans at one fell swoop However, he did not utterly deer but made an effort to get over the difficul “Your excellency,” said he, “this is indeed cruel,” “What,” demanded the governor, ‘fastening gr to the jailer?” “pe pet order it in special cases, such as that of Mathins.” ; ** Ho is then pee Bon gerous?” “Well, I scarcely baliovs ae only such pre- cautions are the established ‘*T regret that.” “ee Why?” ee on the score of humanity,” was the rer ‘Ah, you would be too tender-hearted,” said the governor. “No. But I also ws it because I hoped to see the brigand more like he appears when not under restraint. I suppose you would not like to set him free?” The governor shook his head. “That is against custom, and I should really not like to do it.” The visitor reflected a moment as they walked on. He could not abandon his scheme now that he had gone so far. The effort should be made all the same. ° They walked up to the porter’s lodge beside the gates, where an eager crowd had assembled for a glimpse of the prisoners. ‘And do you open those gates to admit the prisoners?” asked the visitor, innocently. “No, sir,” replied fhe Brenan: os this little side door is all we o ow watch how it is done, This bar, w ich i is like a lever, stops. the door, and renders it immovable; now—hah!” The fallacy of his words were shown ere they were utte: The visitor whistled in a peculiar way. And there was a sudden silent rush at the door in question. e bar, immovable as it was, fell before that desperate onslaught, and the door was carried off inges. “The ragged and miserable-looking mob turned like magic into a crowd of armed desperadoes. And in they pressed. On they came, tearing down the gates and ae everything before them. e poor gate-keeper was trampled under foot and the warders and governor got hustled an cruelly handled. The mobof armed invaders made for Mathias ° Sage his companion,and bore them bodily outside e gate. The brigands then wrenched off the handcuffs. _ Once outside the gates a horse was found wait- 9g. ddenly there was a loud ory heard. ‘“« The soldiers—the soldiers!’ The whole of the rd room had turned out, A charge was made, and it looked as thougk rescue of Mathias were likely to cost them ear. Cries of defiance and rage were heard. Just when matters were at the worst for the robber band, a deafening explosion was heard, that shook the solid building to its base. The soldiers turned back and re-formed at their officer’s command. Then it was that the bripenes, headed by the sham visitor, Tomaso, found their chance. Until now, the retreat had been cut off by the unpleasant appearance of the military, “There goes the powder keg under the water ate,” cried Tomaso, ‘‘Lose not a moment. ‘ollow me.” A desperate rush was made, and the brigands. got clear of the prison. The soldiers were divided into two lots, one party being sent in pursuit, the other remaining to guard the prisoner. e roll call of the prisoners made this discov- Ou: ‘How many prisoners have escaped!” inquired. the ‘overnor,. ee absentees, your excellency,” said the head man of the prison. ‘‘One is an talian call- ing himself Toro, another is an Englishman call- ing himself Hunston, and the third is the brigand chief Mathias.” The continuation of this story can be found in The 5 Cent Wide Awake Library No. 1242, entitled “JACK HARKAWAY, THE MAGICIAN.” Latest Issues of THE 5 CENT WIDE AWAKE LIBRARY: 1166 rae Rudder, the Boy Pilot of the Mississip- . by Ane Raymond by Kit Clyde 1167 ma wink Tsland.. 1168 Muldoon’s Flats—comic:. oo hy eee 1169 The Hut in the Swamp;or, The ea ht Hal Percy’s Fate............+ are 1170 Nick and Jed, the King ‘vagy ers of the Bordeney:. sis Taaesar sevaee by P.'T. Raymond 1171 Clear ihe Track ‘Tom; or, The Youngest Engineer onthe Road...... by Albert J. 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Little 1237 Young Harkaway an and the Pirates. 1210 Denver Dan and His Chums....... By C. Little | 1238 Jack Harkaway’s Triumph, 1211 Denver Dan in New York......... by C. Little | 1239 Jack Harkaway on Ma; agic Island, 1212 The Twin Boy Scouts....by Percy B. St. John | 1240 Jack Harkaway’s Peri 1213 Prairie Phil; or, The Panther of the Platte by Harry Rockwood 1241 Jack Harkaway to the Rescue. 1242 Jack Harkaway, the Magician. For sale by all newsdealers in the United States and Canada, or sent to your address, post-paid, on receipt of the price, 5 cents, Ad- dress P. 0. Box 2780. ihy FRANK TOUSEHY, Publisher 84 & 86 North Moore Street, New York. N K, Shackletowt :