Pirates at play.
Pirates at play.
Pirates at play.
Upon a table—I called them tables, these blocks of stone—were heaped together incongruously, handsome articles of ware. They were mixed indiscriminately with common pots and pans and cooking utensils. Standing among the articles of baser metal I noticed some pieces of a jewelled church service. There were drinking horns standing side by side with the most exquisite vases of silver, pewter cups and flagons cheek by jowl with the consecrated vessels.
"Where is Mauresco? Mauresco!" squeaked the Admiral of the Red. "He knew where our treasures were stored. Bring Mauresco, that I may array myself as befits my position!"
"Mauresco! Mauresco!" The motley company took up the cry. The musical syllables rang through the vaulted cavern, and echoed back from the hollows and arches overhead. "Mauresco! Mauresco!" they rang, "Mauresco!"
The Bo's'n and I looked at each other, then turned again to survey the extraordinary scene, as if we could not bear to lose a motion or a wave of the hand.
There were some chests standing open on the floor, and several men ran at an order from the Admiral and burrowed and groped among the handsome stuffs that partly trailed their lengths along the rock beneath them. They had been used, I thought, to enwrap the flagons and cups. But, search as they would, nothing came to light that had not already been placed in view of the band assembled.
"Mauresco alone possessed the secret," shouted Jonas. "If you had only trusted me now," and in the tone one heard the plaint of long-standing jealousy, and we felt certain that, whatever the Admiral might experience should he hear how Mauresco had met his timely death, Captain Jonas would not shed half a tear.
So it was treasure then that the buccaneers were seeking when they burst into the chamber next that in which we had taken refuge, and not ourselves. Thank God for that! I judged from this that they had not discovered the dual nature of the cavern, and that when Mauresco groped with curious fingers into our passageway he did it as an explorer, and not as one who had any positive knowledge.
"Mauresco must come soon," said the Admiral. "Meanwhile let Lord George Trevelyan step forth."
The young man started and looked uneasily at the group.
"Let Lord George Trevelyan drink to the health of the Admiral of the Red!" roared Captain Jonas in his burly voice.
The young Englishman started again slightly, but did not advance.
Captain Jonas fired a volley of oaths at the boy. He then drew his pistol from his belt and levelled it at the head of the young Englishman, who did not wince. This seemed to make the wretch think better of his purpose, for he fired the weapon into the jorum instead. The liquor splashed and spouted up in jets, whereupon the Admiral shouted in his thread of voice:
"Light it up! light it up! Give it life! give it life!"
Several pistols were held close to the liquor and discharged into the inflammable mass, but it remained for one of the most zealous members of the crew to ignite the fluid with his flint, which he struck with success. The fumes flamed high and lighted up the cavern, shadowing the buccaneers upon the walls in a thousand fantastic shapes.
"Fill up! fill up!" squeaked the Admiral of the Red. The band crowded round the bowl, and dipped the liquid fire from its glowing surface. Then they drank, as did their leader.
"A song! a song!" roared Captain Jonas.
"Where is Mauresco? Handsome Mauresco? He has a pretty pipe. Bring Mauresco. No one can sing like Mauresco."
"Mauresco! No one can sing like Mauresco!"
"You'll never hear his pretty pipe again, thank God!" whispered I in the Bo's'n's ear.
"Where can he be?" roared Captain Jonas; "and Wiggins and the Turk?"
"So it was the Turk and Wiggins who went to keep Mauresco company," said I again softly in the Bo's'n's ear.
"An' a murderous pair they was, sir, Mr. Jones, if ever I saw such," answered the Bo's'n.
"A song, meanwhile, good Jonas," squeaked the Admiral. "A song! You sing a stave nearly as well as Mauresco. Sing——"
"I'll choose my song myself," said Jonas gruffly, "or I won't sing at all. It was sung in Ned England's day. Brave Ned England!"
"Choose it, then," said the Admiral hotly, "but sing it. Get one with a chorus, mind you, one with a chorus! We all like to roar a jolly chorus, hey, my lads?"
"We do! we do! The Admiral has spoke our minds, we do!" shouted the band in ragged unison.
Captain Jonas emptied his glass, limped to the table where the Admiral was seated, hitched himself up on the corner, crossed the leg fashioned by human hands over that made by his Creator, and with fingers clasped held it there, as if he feared that it would walk off by itself. He then opened a mouth more renowned for size than beauty, and sang that song with which I have often sung you, when you were my little Adoniah, to sleep, when mother had gone to Wednesday evening meeting. I am good at catching a tune, and perhaps some of the words I have supplied; but I am sure that for villainy mine could never equal the viciousness of the words which issued from the lips of plain Captain Jonas. This was the song that he sang:
Music
MALABAR COAST.
As I was a-sailin' down Malabar coast,I spies a fair wessel, a-lee, a-lee,Of gallant good riggin' and sticks did she boast.We filled up our glasses and gave her a toast,For soon she'd belong, sir, to we, to we,For soon she'd belong, sir, to we.She signalled her name, and she ran up a ragOf warious bright colours to see, to see.We didn't wait long, but without any brag,We hoisted the Cross Bones, the jolly Black Flag,And merrily sailed down a-lee, a-lee,And merrily sailed down a-lee.We gave her a shot or two over the bows,The wind moaned aloft and a-low, a-low;We was down on our luck, and our spirits to rouse,We started right in for a jolly carouseAboard of a wessel you know, all know,Her name was the "Cadogan Snow."We piled up her silks and her wines on the decksAs high as my head, sir, and higher, much higher,And when we had made her the sweetest of wrecks,We stopped all their mouths by just slitting some necksAnd took every thing that a gent could desire,Then set the old barco afire.We forced some sweet ladies fair over the side,With many a jest and a lively prank.To old Davy Jones each relinquished his bride,And when they bewailed 'em, and mournfully cried,We started 'em out on a wery long plank—They moaned and they groaned as they sank.
As I was a-sailin' down Malabar coast,I spies a fair wessel, a-lee, a-lee,Of gallant good riggin' and sticks did she boast.We filled up our glasses and gave her a toast,For soon she'd belong, sir, to we, to we,For soon she'd belong, sir, to we.
She signalled her name, and she ran up a ragOf warious bright colours to see, to see.We didn't wait long, but without any brag,We hoisted the Cross Bones, the jolly Black Flag,And merrily sailed down a-lee, a-lee,And merrily sailed down a-lee.
We gave her a shot or two over the bows,The wind moaned aloft and a-low, a-low;We was down on our luck, and our spirits to rouse,We started right in for a jolly carouseAboard of a wessel you know, all know,Her name was the "Cadogan Snow."
We piled up her silks and her wines on the decksAs high as my head, sir, and higher, much higher,And when we had made her the sweetest of wrecks,We stopped all their mouths by just slitting some necksAnd took every thing that a gent could desire,Then set the old barco afire.
We forced some sweet ladies fair over the side,With many a jest and a lively prank.To old Davy Jones each relinquished his bride,And when they bewailed 'em, and mournfully cried,We started 'em out on a wery long plank—They moaned and they groaned as they sank.
Captain Jonas sang with spirit. When he reached the fifth line he waved his hands above his head, thus releasing his wooden leg, which waved also in midair. The rest joined in with a good will, and sang both the fifth and sixth line with so great a noise that I feared not only would they awaken Cynthia, but Mauresco, Wiggins, and the Turk as well.
"That was the song Ned England used to sing. Brave Ned England! Merry Ned England!" squeaked the Admiral of the Red. "We shall never look on his like in this world. He was a dare-devil dog, if ever there was one!"
I watched young Trevelyan as he stood alone, pale and dejected. When the chorus had ended, the Admiral's thin voice was heard saying:
"A shooting bout! a shooting bout!" The lad winced and closed his eyes. But it was not yet time for his torture to begin.
"Turn me round! turn me round!" was the Admiral's next order. "I'll lead off."
Several of the Admiral's followers ran to twist him in the right direction, which we found to be a position in which he faced the niches where the skeletons hung.
"You see Sir Evylyn Wulbur's left eye?" questioned the Admiral. "The left eye for a thousand pounds!"
"A thousand pounds! a thousand pounds!" shouted the band. Crack! went the ball. There was a slight tremor of the frame, but the shining skull remained apparently uninjured.
"A fine shot!" said Captain Jonas. "Try the right eye, Admiral."
"The right eye," said the Admiral, complying readily.
Crack! again. And through the right eye sped the unerring bullet. It flattened against the wall, and dropped with a chink to the floor of the niche.
"Don't want to riddle that head at the back," said Jonas. "Try another skull. The next man!"
Other marksmen levelled their weapons at other figures, and showed proof of skill such as I had never even imagined. One bullet only failed. It crushed in a skull between the eyes.
"Put him out! put him out!" squeaked the Admiral. "He's ruined the Chief Justice for life!" At this witty sally there was a great roar. I wondered that the figures still stood, each one in his niche. I could not understand why this was so, or why they had not long ago fallen to the floor of the cave. When the disgraced marksman was thrust outside the archway, Captain Jonas slid down from his seat and limped to the centre of the hall. He bowed low to young Trevelyan, with a certain sort of sneering deference which persons of his class usually feel for men of higher station.
"Would Lord Trevelyan like to try his hand at this very pretty game?" he asked.
The lad raised his eye, in which at once there appeared a gleam of hope. He thrust out his hand for the weapon.
The Admiral laughed in his high key.
"No, no!" he said. "That was not the meaning of Captain Jonas, plain Captain Jonas. He meant to reverse the order of things. He meant to inquire if Lord George Trevelyan would like to stand as a target. I promise you, my lord, you need feel no fear. We can shoot all round your body. Put a bullet so close to your left ear that it will deafen you for a week. Put one so close to your right ear that it will snap the drum merely from the concussion of the air. We will cut your pockets off one after the other, and touch neither your heart, your lights, or your liver. I myself can score a pathway through those golden curls on top of your very handsome head and never touch the scalp. I can—Why, what's the matter with the young lord? Chicken-livered, hey, my lord, hey?"
Trevelyan made no reply, but dropped his head lowerupon his breast. The Admiral drained his cup and handed it to one of the men that it might be replenished at the flaming bowl.
"Is it not time to finish this business?" asked the Admiral, jerking his head in the direction of the lad.
"We are waiting for Mauresco, Admiral."
"Yes, yes, the high priest, Mauresco! The handsome high priest, Mauresco! Where can Mauresco be? Call Mauresco! Go and call Mauresco! Searching as usual for his lost bauble, perhaps."
A dozen men ran to obey his orders. They disappeared through the archway, and there were cries of "Mauresco!" "Mauresco!" We heard shrill whistles and calls, but Mauresco did not appear. I was glad that I knew the reason why.
I saw that the lad turned his eyes ever toward the doorway, hoping probably that the watch would be relaxed, and once or twice I was almost tempted to cry out, "Try it now, Trevelyan, try it now!" The moment came at last, for it seemed to me that their potations had made the bandits somewhat careless.
"Go bring the sepulchre!" ordered the Admiral. At these dreadful words the boy shrank to the wall and stood there, his face leaned against the inhospitable rock.
Two men now entered, bringing what, I could not determine, except that they walked about six feet apart, and that the something between them glinted in certain places in the lamplight, and made a jingling noise as they came. Some of the ruffians were filling their flagons and cups, but as the two approached, bearing what the Admiral had called the sepulchre, they all came forward and crowded around this new object of interest. The guards at the door had relaxed their watchfulness and were gazing with the rest.
"Now is the time," I whispered. "Will he never——" A shout! Another, and twenty more! A rush to the doorway! The lad had made a bolt for it and was gone!
My determination was not taken before I was halfway down the passage. I felt myself running like the wind through the tunnel, my hand scraping the wall as I ran. I remember that it seemed to me possible that I could get to the aid of the young lad in the dark and bring him to our concealed retreat. I was bumping against the sides of the tunnel as these thoughts went through my brain, and when I came plump against the transverse wall of what I called the home passage I turned to the left, and was soon in the open air. I heard the footsteps of my companions, I was sure, but they did not follow me farther than the home tunnel. I remember the delicious smell of the fresh night air that filled my nostrils as I emerged from the cave.
It seemed light outside after the blackness of the passage. I tore up the hill. I forgot my bare feet. I leaped, I ran as I never had done before, and then I heard a rustling among the leaves. He had doubled upon his pursuers.
"Here! here!" I shouted. "This way! this way!" I was now at the top of the hill. Some one crashed through the underbrush.
"Where? Which way?" he panted. I held my hand out to him. He seized it in his, for even in the darkness he knew me for a friend.
"This way," I whispered, "this way. I will save you, lad. Come! come!" I clasped his fingers tightly and together we raced for life, but there were the soundsof many feet in pursuit. I kept in mind always that, whatever happened, the buccaneers must not know the secret of our side of the cavern, and so I pulled him still up the hill and back into the deeper forest. But the lad was weak and ill from long confinement on ship-board, and my feet were bleeding and sore. We leaped with the strength that despair lends to weary frames, but the energy of revenge was upon our trail, and I felt the presence of my enemy behind me. I heard his heavy step treading almost upon my heels. I tried to double by bending low, but fate, the inexorable, was on the other side, and I fell, dragging the lad down with me. A rough hand caught at my shoulder, and then other hands were laid upon me, and I was held by those about me as if in a vise. I struggled to draw my pistol, and managed to cock it and lay my captor low, thank God! But, for one who had seized upon us, there were six or eight to hold us fast. We were turned about and marched back to the cavern.
"The Admiral will settle with you for that shot, my gentleman," said a rough voice. "I envy you very little," growled he. "That was 'The Rogue,' next to Mauresco, the Admiral's favourite among us all."
I had, indeed, got myself into a nice mess! All of my own deliberate choosing, too! How could I have been such a fool! The young lad must die doubtless, but why I should have elected to die with him I could not just then determine. While some of the men remained to look after the villain well named "The Rogue" others haled the lad and me to the door which opened into the Admiral's compartment. Our captors pushed us into an archway much like the one which led to our latticed retreat. We passed along a short tunnel. The light from within became strong, and in a moment we were thrust in amid the company. I had hoped never to make their personal acquaintance, and I entered reluctantly. Aswe came in among them, the Admiral and Captain Jonas gazed with delight at young Trevelyan, and with more than amazement at me.
"Two!" shouted Captain Jonas, "when we expected but one. This is luck, great luck! What snare did you lay for this popinjay?"
The name used by chance did not bring up to me the most pleasurable feelings.
"Faith, and begorra, I think that he was layin' of a snare for us, Captain," answered my captor, a middle-aged Irishman.
"Another!" The Admiral craned his short neck forward. "And where did you come from, sir?"
"You must have seen my boat as you landed. It was on the beach a quarter of a mile below the cove."
"How did you get here? Been paying a visit to Christophe, perhaps, or have been trying to discover our——"
"I am a shipwrecked sailor, sir," I answered. "My companions perished——"
"Ah! Was yours the ship we fired? By George! it was a jolly blow up, though not as successful as I could wish." The Admiral chuckled and shook with glee. "Of what nation are you?" said he, as he turned suddenly on me.
"I am an American, Admiral," said I, not, I confess, without some slight tremors.
He squeezed his eyes together and scrutinized me searchingly.
"And how, pray you, do you know my title so well?"
I pulled myself together.
"Have I not heard your men here addressing you, sir? Is your title a secret?"
"Tut, tut, I am not accustomed to be answered back. An American, hey? So you thought Englishmen and English manners not good enough for you rebels over there; you thought——"
The blood flew to my face, and I blurted out hastily, regardless of my own safety:
"Is it English manners to capture a young lad like this and——"
"Ho! ho! So you take it upon yourself to question me? Let me tell you that for a wink of the eye many a man has met with a worse death than shall be meted out to you, Mr.——"
"Jones—Hiram Jones, sir," said I, "at your service."
"None of your insolence, Mr. Hiram Jones! Perhaps we can show you that Mr. Hiram Jones the American is not quite the great man that he thinks himself."
I could not help wondering if the Bo's'n and that tiresome Minion were looking down upon me and listening to these threats and insults. It roiled my blood to imagine the Minion's grin and his delight in what would seem to him nothing but a very pretty comedy. I glanced up toward the direction of the stone balcony, and I saw with great relief of mind that there was no sign of any opening at that spot near the roof, the vines seeming to grow flatly against the cavern wall. It looked from where I stood as if a flea could not have sheltered behind those masses of green.
"There is no help for you there," grinned the Admiral. "There is no opening from our audience chamber but the opening where you came in." I withdrew my eyes at this positive statement. Thank God, they were ignorant of the dual nature of the cave!
"And your party, where are they?"
I wondered myself. I hoped that Cynthia was sleeping quietly in her secluded chamber, and that the others were keeping watch at the doorway of the latticed room.
"They are all lost, sir."
"A rather lame statement. It was a lovely day when you came ashore."
"That is true," I answered, "but they foolishly started to walk to the cape, and——"
"Enough! enough!" squeaked the Admiral, pulling out his watch. "We can parley no longer."
Contrary to all that I had heard of pirates and their personal belongings, this watch was not encrusted with jewels. It was a plain silver watch, and undoubtedly had been chosen for its excellent time-keeping qualities.
"It's growing very late; we must be off." He looked around the group.
"Stop drinking, some of you, and prepare the sepulchre!"
I glanced at the young Englishman. He was deathly pale, for he surmised as well as myself that it was his sepulchre of which this gnomelike brute spoke. Captain Jonas turned to a man standing near:
"You hear what the Admiral orders? Bring the blacksmith!"
"He is here, Captain; he came with the cage."
"The coffin, you mean!" roared the Captain, with an ugly laugh which froze the blood in my veins. "The coffin! the sepulchre! the sarcophagus! the catafalque! Where is the Smith?"
A stout, fair man stepped forward from the group. His face was gentle, and his kind blue eye contradicted the suspicion that he gloried in his ghastly profession. He gave a pitying glance at the lad—a friendly glance, I thought—then walked round behind the table where the Admiral sat, and raised on end the mass of steel which I had seen brought into the cave when I was in the gallery. Ah me! How long ago that seemed to me now! Then, nothing was further from my thoughts than that I should ever become a nearer spectator of this fearful scene.
The Smith dragged the frame to the close proximity of one of the empty niches and spread it upon the ground. He pulled and pushed and coaxed the thing into shapeuntil, as I looked, I saw that it assumed somewhat the figure of a human being. There was the skeleton cage for the head, the band for the throat, the rounding slope to encase the shoulders, the form of the trunk, the arms, the legs and feet—all, all were comprised in this instrument of confinement. I cast my eyes toward the skeletons hanging in the other niches, and discovered on nearer view that they, too, had each one his confining cage, and I knew now, for the first time, why the figures remained upright in these places hollowed out for them, and why they swayed with the gusts of fierce wind, never losing their balance and never falling from their terrible upright positions. There was a ring in the top of the mask, and to it was fastened a chain. It seemed to be a strong chain. The cage which the blacksmith was handling was almost bright in places, but those upon the figures in the niches were rusted and dull, which told me why I had not understood how these grim remains of men had remained for so long a time in their original attitudes.
"Is that about the size of the Lord George Trevelyan?" squeaked the Admiral of the Red. I looked at the lad. His eyes were glued with horror to the dreadful machine. They seemed to grow large and dilate. His eyelids opened and closed rapidly; he seemed on the verge of insanity.
"And what about the ransom, Lord George Trevelyan?" the brutal villain added. "Will you ask it now?" But while I looked the lad sank down in a heap upon the floor.
"No time to dilly-dally with dead lords. Shut him in! shut him in!" shouted Captain Jonas.
I stood petrified with horror. I may truly say that all thought of self had flown. To see this boy, little more than a child, inclosed in this devilish contrivance, fastened there and left to die and rot piecemeal, was more than I could bear. My tongue, which has got meinto so much trouble, as usual added to it in this instance.
"Admiral! Captain Jonas! you don't mean to leave that poor lad here to die alone?"
The Smith, who was slowly fastening the clasps of the cage around the unconscious form of the boy, looked up at me quickly with a warning glance, and I saw that I might have better kept quiet; but impulse has always been my bane.
"Oh, no! oh, no!" sneered the Admiral. "He will have company—perhaps not the company that he has been accustomed to, but the company of—What did you tell me was your rating aboard the——"
"Yankee Blade," said I haltingly. "I was the First Mate, sir. I have friends at home and friends at Christophe's court." I did not stick at a lie, since I had heard his tone. "They will——"
"Ah! will they? I fear not. Unworthy as your position is, Mr.—Mr. Jones—ah, yes, Mr. Hiram Jones—you shall have the honour of bearing the Lord George Trevelyan company. Thanks to me, Mr. Hiram Jones, you will associate with a more exalted personage than it has yet been your lot to meet. Another cage! another cage! Bring another cage!" called out the Admiral in excited tones. "We will see whether Mr. Hiram Jones, late First Mate of the Yankee ship——"
The Smith left the unconscious boy, whom he had fastened in his living tomb, and approached the Admiral respectfully. He glanced at me, hardly perceptibly.
"There is no other cage, Admiral. You ordered only one brought ashore."
"No other cage? No other cage? Hereafter, always bring two. One never knows what may turn up, what spies may be about——"
I broke in.
"I am no spy, Admiral. I happened to be in your neighbourhood and met the lad running, and I——"
"How about the death of The Rogue? Answer me that, Mr. Jones. You have shed the blood of——"
I saw that my case was hopeless.
The Admiral could hardly wait now to give his orders. He interrupted himself, he was in such haste.
"String him up! string him up! If you have no cage, put a rope round his throat and leave him hanging. String him up! string him up!"
A wild shriek rang out through the lofty apartment. I knew the voice. It was Cynthia's. Then all was still. In an instant fifty torches were alight.
"Some one has discovered us!" cried the hoarse voice of Captain Jonas. "Sarch the place! Sarch the place! A thousand louis for the man who finds the spy!"
Ah! she would be found! She would be found! They would seize her and carry her away with them on their floating hell!
"String him up! string him up!" shouted the Admiral, excitedly, pointing fiercely at me.
I saw, as if in a dream, that they had lifted the lad from the ground and had placed him in the niche, and that the blacksmith was engaged in riveting the chain at the top of the headpiece to a ring bolt in the roofing of the arch. Truly these devils took much pains to be revenged upon their enemies, the world at large! I saw the Smith's lips move, as if he were whispering something to the lad. His face had a pitiful expression, as if he would fain tender some help; but young Trevelyan himself hung like a dead weight, and seemed unconscious of what was befalling him.
At the Admiral's order of "String him up!" one man had gone quickly for a rope which had been unbound from a coffer, and a noose was made and placed round my throat. The men ran, urging me along with them, looking overhead, as if to find a place where they could fasten their diabolical instrument of death.
Then the Smith spoke, leaving the lad where he hadplaced him. He came forward, trying, it seemed to me, to appear as bloodthirsty as the rest.
"The Chief Justice has hung for a long time, Admiral," he said. "A hanging is quickly over. The other is a pleasant reminder of one's failings for some days to come. The agony of the Chief Justice has been finished now for some time. What do you say to taking his cage for this fellow who shoots our brave sailors as if they were dogs?"
"Well thought of! well thought of!" roared Captain Jonas, not waiting for the Admiral to speak.
"Yes, it's well thought of!" chimed in the arbiter of my fate.
"It is a tremenjous compliment," rejoined Captain Jonas, "I can tell you that, Mr. Hiram Jones. Any man can die by scragging. You can scrag yourself. But to be placed in an elegant house, which no less a person than a Chief Justice of England has occupied before you, to be in the distinguished company of the Lord George Trevelyan——"
"Come! come! stop this nonsense!" snarled the Admiral. "Fasten the fellow up, and let us be off! That Frenchman will be along some time between this and dawn. Put him in! put him in! Where is Mauresco? How long he lingers! He should be here to read the burial service. Where is handsome Mauresco?"
"Where he will never need service more!" shouted I, but at a nudge from the Smith I did not repeat my scarce heeded words. The Smith then laid me down upon the ground, and two great hulking fellows stood over me with pistols ready cocked. The Smith left my side, and I heard a hammering and prying, and soon there was a fall and the rattle of something which caused a shudder to creep through my frame.
I watched them, fascinated, as they unhooked the chain and removed the bolts with which the Chief Justice was fastened to the top and sides of his peculiar niche.I saw them open the rusty clasps and remove the skull and musty remains from the house that was to be mine. I heard the bones rattle, as if in protest, as the men threw the Chief Justice carelessly into a corner. I saw them remove a few bits of cloth and mould from the metal before they dragged the ghastly thing across the floor to where I lay. I saw them lay the cage upon the ground and open its clever mechanism, the trunk, the head, the legs, the arms, to make room for my wretched trembling body. I turned sick and faint as the wires which had pressed those mouldering bones were bound against my face and head. I smelled the charnel house upon that rusted frame; corruption was in the cage which inclosed me and in the air that I breathed.
Little time had been occupied in dispossessing the Chief Justice of his last home. I forgot myself long enough to turn my eyes upon the poor lad to see how he bore his dread ordeal. But he still hung limp and lifeless. Perhaps he would awake later to the full horror of his living death. For me, I intended to retain my senses to the last. The Smith knelt down beside me. He bent over my head, as if to arrange more properly the cage in which they had now laid me.
"The ring at the top is weak," he whispered; and then, "Forgive me; it is your life or mine."
"I forgive you," I said aloud.
The Admiral and Captain Jonas set up a hearty roar, in which the others joined.
"He forgives the Smith," said Captain Jonas. "How very polite of Mr. Jones! Of course, you feel better, Smith?"
"I want none of him or of his damned forgiveness!" said the Smith, leaning again close to my ear. "The fastening is a little weak." Aloud, "Where is that other pincers?"
There were shouts and a rush to find the pincers, during which he said in a whisper, his lips scarce moving:
"A friend could release you. I will drop the tools." And then aloud:
"It is meat and drink to me to trice up a Yankee!"
And now, as I was raised to my feet—rather to a standing posture, for I was so closely confined that I could move naught but my eyeballs—and as I was being carried to the remaining niche, the villains began their burial service.
"If we but had Mauresco here, our high priest Mauresco," said the Admiral regretfully.
"I can say the service as well as Mauresco!" shouted Jonas with scorn. "Give me half a chance." And then there was poured forth a stream of blasphemy more awful than any to which I had ever listened. If I must die, give me some tender and consoling thought to while away my hours while death is approaching. But this! I will not sully my pages with the vile words which fell from the lips of these godless men. It was a travesty upon the beautiful service of the Church of England, and was so ingenious in its obscenity that I would fain forget it. Thank God that I have forgotten it in a measure, but I do remember that, as I was being taken to that deadly niche in the wall, my whole soul revolted at what I could not but hear.
"It is nothing, sir, when you get used to it," squeaked the Admiral of the Red. "You've heard of skinning eels? Usage makes all the difference in the world." And then the old villain laughed his fiend's cackle, which set my teeth on edge.
I suppose that I was deathly pale.
"Courage, my man, courage!" squeaked my torturer. "There is no pain about this last sweet suit of clothes. It fits as neatly as my own.—Give him a jorum, Smith, to calm his troubled nerves."
Need I say that I accepted the offer, and drained the cup which the Smith held to my lips? He took that opportunity to murmur in my ear:
"I may have a chance to get back. I will forget the tools, anyway."
The liquor affected me no more than so much water. How I wished that the poor lad might also have swallowed some! However, perhaps it was better as it was. He had forgotten his misery. I felt them carry me to the niche and stand me there upon my feet; but this was mockery, as my toes only reached the narrow flooring. As the Smith riveted the chain, he whispered other consolatory sentences to me, such as, "I must make it strong enough to hold you, otherwise you would fall on your face." And then to the Admiral: "There, sir, how do you like Sir Popinjay now? Isn't he a dainty sight?" To me, "If you have friends near, they must hold you firmly as they draw out the bolts." To the Admiral, "He'll never move, sir, till the Day of Judgment." I must say that I was rather of his opinion. To me, "I'll let you down as low as I can." To the Admiral, "A dead weight, sir, a very dead weight."
"Get a new joke, Blacksmith, a new joke. That is as old as this hell of a cave itself."
Suddenly there was the sound of a gun. Then another. They came from the direction of the sea.
"Come! come!" said the Admiral. "There's the signal. You are slow, Pennock, slow, slow!"
"I must secure him well, sir."
"Perhaps they'll leave me behind," he whispered.
But though my heart rose with hope at the thought, such was not to be my good luck.
"Come, Smith, come! You seem very loath to part with your prisoner."
The gun sounded again, then several in quick succession.
"Something beside a signal, sir," said the Smith. "It's a fight, a sea fight."
"Take to your heels, all of you!" roared CaptainJonas. "They haven't enough men on board to work ship."
"Take me up! take me up!" squeaked the Admiral. "All go ahead. I'll see ye all out."
The Smith loitered, pretending to gather up the silver flagons and cups that lay strewn about.
"No time for that, Pennock, no time for that! Will you go on?"
There was menace in the tone.
It seemed to me as if I could not lose this my only friend—a friend made in the last ten minutes, it is true, but one who could save me when there was no one else to aid. I looked up at him imploringly; he sighed and gave me a glance which was at the same time encouraging and hopeless, a paradox which I explained to myself amid the confusion of my thoughts as if he said: "You see that I must go. But if I can, I will return and save you."
"Pick me up! pick me up!" squeaked the Admiral of the Red.
The habit of obeying him was strong. He was seized and raised on the shoulders of two of the strongest of the band.
A messenger burst into the hall. He was breathless.
"The ship is attacked!" he shouted. "We must run for it!"
Now all was confusion, all was excitement. It was the devil take the hindmost. The pirates tumbled over each other in their haste to be gone. I could not but think how anxious they were to save their own worthless lives, while not giving a thought to our terrible fate. I heard constant sounds of firing and the noisy shouts of the buccaneers as they trooped out of the cavern and down the hill. The Admiral saw them all leave, and was the last to go. As he reached the door, he turned and threw me some words over his shoulder.
"Don't tell Christophe of us, dear Mr. Jones, and Ishall ever be your friend. Are we leaving you pretty comfortable? I am so glad. We'll take you down when we return next year. Meanwhile, good night, and God bless you!" The bearers vanished through the archway, and I was left alone with those dread travesties on Nature, and a young lad who perhaps had already joined the great majority. I cast a despairing glance at the shaded gallery. I called, I screamed in my agony; but I might have saved my strength, for the noise made by the pirates drowned my words. I seemed to be slipping, slipping, away out of life. I suddenly lost all hope. I began to fear a thousand things. I felt sure that the Bo's'n and the Minion would never dream of my being left in the great hall. If I were left behind, they would argue, why not come to them. They would see and hear the embarkation of the pirates, and would imagine that I had been taken with them or else killed and left on shore. The horror of that awful cave would be too much for a man of the Bo's'n's nervous and exalted temperament. As he had flown from the mysterious ring, so had he also rushed from the cave. Perhaps he would never even come and search for me. As to the Minion, no trust could be placed in him.
I wondered how long I could live, half standing, half hanging there. My feet were not resting upon the ground. The ball of my foot touched the stone beneath, and I found myself making constant and ineffectual efforts to get my entire foot into a position of rest. My weight was almost entirely on the cage. And now I felt that my throat was pressed by the band about it, and I feared that unless I kept myself constantly pushing upward with my toes that I was in danger of choking. I prayed for death. I wished to die then and there, and not hang until I should go stark mad from the horror of it all.
Suddenly I heard a slight movement, a rustling such as one might make in turning a dried leaf with thefoot in the forest. My eyes were drawn slowly round to the place of sound. Good God! had my terrors only just begun? Was there more in life to drive one mad? Upon the floor of the cave, at about ten yards distant, I saw what turned me to stone, what fascinated me, what held me to life, what made me pray God that if he had any pity he would strike quickly. The terror of the Haïtien woods, the scourge of the Haïtien caves, was upon me. Slowly and surely it was making its way toward the place where I hung helpless. The great, black, hairy, terrible thing was shaping its course as directly for me as if I had it hooked to a string and was drawing it to my feet. I started, I jumped so that my cage quivered in every joint, and the rusty clasps squeaked and rattled. I shouted, but the words, a roar as they left my throat, dropped from my lips in a whisper. "Help!" I cried, "help!" But I was like one in a nightmare, my tongue clave to the roof of my mouth, and there was no answering sound. Nothing but the slow, measured crawl of the tarantula, as with calculating crablike motion it came slowly on and on. The lamp was burning low, the cave was getting almost dark, a fitting light for the ghastly and the terrible. It brought to my vision another dread form. Beyond the black spider, from beneath the central bowl issued, with many a hiss and undulating movement, a long green serpent. I saw this only when the hairy beast turned as if to protest at the interruption. The snake coiled itself and raised its head. Its tongue played in rapid darts from open fangs. There was a moment of rest for the tarantula, and then again it resumed its measured walk toward me. I hoped that the serpent would give the creature battle, and thus draw its attention from me; but as I gazed with eyes starting from their sockets, I saw that it uncoiled and took up its line of march also toward the wall of the dead, but parallel with the path of the tarantula. I tried to reason with myself as to which attack would be the least horrible tome. I found that my lips were moving, that I was uttering incoherent sentences! I wondered what I could be saying. The dread creatures were approaching nearer and nearer. I watched them while I could. I tried to shout again, hoping that the sound might frighten them if but for a moment, but my tongue refused to move. My mouth was dry as a plaster wall, all the blood in my body seemed surging to my head. They were coming, coming, slowly, slowly, but surely also, near and nearer! Then I fell down, down, down into space, and, God be thanked! was no more.
How long I was dead I can not say. It seemed like death, and I shall ever feel that I have tasted of that other life which will be my portion now before many years have passed away. I will not weary you, Adoniah, with the experiences that seemed to be mine—the years in which I seemed to be floating through space. We will pass over the dreams and return to the stern reality.
My first return to consciousness was to feel a strange sensation in my fingers. I seemed to be in a cramp. I tried to stretch out my foot, but I had no power over my muscles. It seemed as if my extremities were swollen to twice their size. I tried to feel for the side of my bunk. If I were in the Yankee Blade, it seemed so strange that there was no motion. We were in port, then! If so, why had I not been on deck to take my place on the fo'c'sl? What was that gasping, sighing sound that fell on my ear? It must be the water sobbing against the sides of the old barco. I tried again to move my foot. Again there was no result, but a seasick motion of my body, a faint clink, as of metal. I endeavoured to open my eyes. The lids were closed as if glued together. If I could but get my hand up and pull at the lids. Suddenly it came back to me. I was shut up in the devil's cavern, and the tarantula and serpent were making in a straight line for my helpless body. I was one of that deathly row of counterfeits which hung against the damp wall of the cave. I was alone with the dead, myself a corpse, shut off from human kind forever.
As these thoughts jumbled chaotically through my mind, I turned my eyes to the floor beneath. The light had grown so dim, and the smoke of the oil so filled the cave, that it almost obscured my vision. I remember thinking if those fearful enemies were to strike, I hoped that they would not long delay. I was so tired, so tired. Let death come quickly and end it all. But would death end it soon? Would there not be suffering, the more intense from the poison of those denizens of the cavern than if my life were to slowly ebb away for want of food? I suddenly bore downward with all my weight. The band round my neck was tight. Perhaps I could choke myself. But beyond a sensation as of suffocation, there was no answer from the friend on whom I called. Death did not reply. Had those ruffians killed my friends, and was I to hang here as he had hung who had been removed to make room for me? Was I to be left to linger and rot, the flesh to drop from my bones, the threads of my clothing to fall in dust heaps around me? I tried to shout, but my tongue was swollen and filled my mouth. If I had been dead for so long, why had not the tarantula come closer to my helpless frame. Perhaps they would not touch the dead. I struggled, my cage swayed and struck against the walls of my open coffin. I tried to spring up or down to make my weight drop heavily on one side or the other. Perhaps the cage thus might fall. Even if it killed me in so falling, such death were welcome. The cage might burst asunder. Strange things of the kind had happened. I had heard many tales of adventure, but nothing more wonderful than this which had come to me. Why, then, should not this incredible tale be carried on to the end? Why should not my cage burst open and set me free, even if my friends were captured or dead? Oh, for life! Only life! That was all that I asked. Only that God would set me free. I have made many bargains with God and have seldom kept my contract. Man when in straits is prone to tempt hisCreator into making a bargain with him, promising on his part the relinquishment of this sin, that weakness, the doing of that good or the other charity, if God will only surrender his plan and let man act the part of Providence for a while. I can not understand, with the doctrine of foreordination imbedded in the very fibres of my being, how God did really change any portion of his plans for me. But I wanted to be Providence for a little. So I prayed and promised, and it seemed that he heard me. He kept his side of the compact, and I have broken mine a hundred times.
The fitful gusts of wind blew through the cavern and rattled the dry forms hanging near, and blew the air from them to me. But they also brought to me the sound of voices. God bless them, whosever those voices might be! They meant human companionship and hope. The chamber was very dark, but I heard steps which groped and stumbled as they came. There was a shout. It was the Skipper's voice, but I could not answer him. "He is not here," I heard him say. O my God! would they go away and leave me? Thank Heaven, that was not their purpose. I heard a fumbling, and flashes of light shot out; then all was dark again. And then they had come to the centre of the cave and had lighted the lamp. At first, the Skipper did not discover where I hung. I heard an exclamation, and saw that he was regarding something almost beneath his foot. I turned my burning eyes to the spot from which he had sprung, and saw that my two enemies had met and had given battle. The serpent, swollen to three times its natural size, was coiled round its enemy, out of which it had crushed the life, receiving each one the death that it gave. And now that the tarantula and serpent were dead, and the Skipper had come, and the lamp was again lighted, I seemed to have nothing more to worry about, and so I fainted.
When I awoke I was lying on the ground, my headwet with water, my neck and collar soaked with the rum which the Minion had tried to pour between my clinched teeth. He was still endeavouring to reach my stomach by the outside passage. I certainly think that a gallon of rum had been poured down my neck—in fact, I was bathed in that potent liquor, which probably saved me from taking an ague.
"Suz! suz! suz!" growled the Captain. He clicked with his tongue like an old woman, as your Aunt Mary 'Zekel used to.
"You, Minion, run and tell the Bo's'n to come here at once!"
"Did," answered the Minion.
"Doesn't he intend to obey my orders any more?" asked the Captain. "He's in my pay."
"How?" inquired the Minion.
"That's so!" said the Captain. "I s'pose he saw a serpent or something in here. Got a mark or something, 't makes him to act so. How'd ye find the Mate, boy?"
"Lookin' for somepun," answered the Minion, in the longest sentence that I had ever heard him utter.
I felt kindly hands busied about me. It was so delightful that I lay there just to be taken care of. I felt the Captain unclasping those rusty catches and saying his "Suz! suz! suz!" over and over.
"Think o' bein' triced up and left for dead!" commented the Captain.
"'Tain't bad," I heard the Minion answer. "Pirates is fine."
"'Tain't bad, ain't it?" said the Skipper. "Why, boy, hell's a garden party to it; that's what it is, a garden party, hell is. Look there on the deck! See where those beasts were fightin' for the first bite of the Mate. Why in thunder don't this fellow come to?"
"Dead," said the Minion laconically. I promptly shuddered and opened my eyes. I did not say what every fainting or resuscitated man says when he first openshis eyes. Usually they ask, "Where am I?" I knew where I was, so I gasped, "Water!"
Upon this, action being easier and more agreeable than words to the Minion, he ran to the bowl and redeluged me with liquor.
"The lad," said I, partly raising myself on my elbow.
"Think he's dead, anyway. You come first, Jones. Now we'll try what we can do for him."
I heard them go to the niche next my own and work over the lad's ingenious contrivance.
"Hold him up!" I heard the Skipper say. "Push back! push back!" Then there was the sound of the working of tools, and finally I knew that they had released my companion. I was now sitting up, and watched all their motions. The Minion bent over young Trevelyan, pushing the Skipper aside, who as promptly kicked him halfway across the cave.
"When I want your help, I'll ask for it," remarked the Skipper, which I thought rather ungrateful. "You don't know anything about this devilish contrivance."
The Minion, not at all abashed, nodded violently.
"How do you know?"
"Saw 'em."
"When?"
"Me and the lady."
So it was "the lady's" shriek that I had heard as they were riveting my cage to the top of the arch.
"What lady? My niece?"
The Minion nodded.
"Who brought her? You?"
The Minion nodded again.
"You fool!" roared the Skipper. "Get out of my sight! Do you know you've driven her raring, staring, stark mad?"
The Minion nodded again, as if such happenings were of daily occurrence. I smiled placidly. I suppose thecontented smile which settled over my features seemed somewhat conceited to the Skipper.
"Oh, you needn't grin, so mighty pleased and all," said the Skipper to me. "My niece never could bear to look at suffering. It wasn't you she was worrying about. It would be just the same about any one." I looked crestfallen probably, but I managed to gasp out a few words.
"How did you find me?" I said.
"Well, good Lord! don't wonder you ask. This young devil wouldn't have troubled himself to tell. My niece couldn't tell. She was stark, staring, raving mad! Crazy! Is now, for that matter! The Bo's'n has run away, the Lord knows where! He came tearin' into the cave, long before those devils left, a-shoutin', 'The serpent! the serpent!' Probably saw one. Queer man to stay in the woods." I thought that the solution of the Bo's'n's action lay in the fact that, like a historical gentleman named Hobson, the Bo's'n, as well as ourselves, had no choice.
The Minion had stolen near again, and was busy with the cage, and soon they rolled the young English lad out of his tomb and on to the dusty rock floor.
"You go and see how my niece is, do you hear? And see if you can get Lazy to come back for a minute with you."
The Minion sped away on mercury feet, and I crawled to the Skipper's assistance. Together we released the lad and made him comfortable. I will not weary you with details. Suffice it to say that, after we had given him some of the liquor, he sat up, dazed, it is true, but thankful. He did not speak, but I saw that his cheek was wet. He was little more than a child, and it would have taken a much stouter heart than his to suffer what he had suffered and make no sign. I arose unsteadily to my feet and tried to aid the lad; but the Skipper told me to go on ahead, saying that he would support young Trevelyan. As we dragged ourselves to the entrance of the chamber, we met the Minion coming in.
"How is she?" asked the Skipper anxiously. I was no less so. I gazed on him with bated breath.
"Dead——" drawled the boy.
The Skipper staggered against the wall of the cavern, throwing young Trevelyan to the floor.
"Faint," said the Minion, completing his sentence. I was weak, but I raised my foot and gave the young villain a vicious kick.
"Ain't to yet," added he, as he was propelled toward the opening.
"Hold your jaw!" roared the Skipper. And then to me: "I want to get back to her, Jones. Help me, if you can."
He then turned to the Minion. "You go back and put out that light, do you hear?" said he.
I have spent too long a time over these incidents, but it is no slight thing to have been to the gates of death in such company, and its dread experiences will remain with me while life shall last. I followed the Skipper and his young charge over and down the hill, and, finding the opening, I entered. It was early morning now, and I easily discovered the archway. It was black as ever inside, but I pushed through the passage and, on entering our chamber, came face to face with the Bo's'n. He started when he saw me.
"What about Miss Archer?" said I.
"Is it really you, sir?" asked the Bo's'n.
"Of course it is. Where is she?"
The Bo's'n nodded toward the pillars at the back of the cave, and then looked at me scrutinizingly.
"They didn't get you, then, did they, sir?"
"Yes, they got me fast enough," said I.
"Oh, the pirates! Yes, sir. Buttheydidn't get you. I mean the——"
The man fell a-trembling, his face turned ghastly pale.
"What under heaven do you mean, Bo's'n?" asked I.
"I can not talk of it," he said. "I saw them open that hole before they left. When you ran from the gallery, I ran, too, but my curiosity was too great for me, and I sneaked back to the gallery. I saw 'em bring you in, sir, and I'd have tried to rescue you, Mr. Jones, but suddenly I saw those——"
The man shook as if with an ague.
"You mean the tarantula and the——"
"Don't mention the name, sir, don't! It's uncanny, sir! After that, sir, I couldn't return. You don't blame——"
"You're no use at all, Bo's'n. You might better have gone with the pirates. Where are they, by the way?"
"Gone," said the Bo's'n, with a return of his confident tone. "Gone like the morning dew."
I looked at him in amazement as he stretched his arm toward the latticed opening and waved it toward the sea.
I remembered hearing the Skipper speak of the Bo's'n as "that dam poetry cuss!" What a broken reed he was! The Skipper came slowly into the cave now, upholding and almost carrying the young English lad, and we turned our attention to him.
Lacelle came also from the back just then, and I asked her how Cynthia was. She answered what sounded like "No compre," which the Bo's'n translated as meaning "No comprehendy," and I suppose he was right. I never was much of a hand at foreign languages.
The Skipper went into his niece's room. He came back, looking very mournful. He shook his head sadly.
"She don't move," said he. "She lays there just so."
"It's that dam Minion," said the Bo's'n, "begging your pardon, sir. He took her on what he called a voyage. I suppose he meant of discovery. I heard her shriek way in here, and then the two came runnin', and I believe she's been so ever sence."
The Captain went to the window and parted thescreen of leaves boldly. He saw me start, So short a time does it take for a habit to become fixed that it seemed to me as if we must still be cautious about the strangers below.
"Oh, you needn't be so terrible afraid!" said the Skipper. "They went out in the night. There was lots of firing. I shouldn't wonder if something attacked 'em. We heard a great whooping, and they rushed right down the hill, as if some of those ghosts was after 'em. They scrambled into their boats in a mighty hurry, and we saw the flash of the powder as they fired, and then we saw two ships racing out to sea. One was running away from the other. Don't know which, but, thank God, they're gone!"
"Yes, thank God!" said I.
"Did that dam' ghost fellow show you the way in again?" asked the Skipper.
"No," said I.
"Did me! I'm gettin' a little tired of him. Think I'll shoot next time he comes round."
"You might create a ghost instead of getting rid of one," said I warningly. "I don't think I'd shoot him. He seems a very kindly disposed ghost. He has done us only favours thus far."
"That's so," said the Skipper. "Don't you want some rest?"
In answer I stretched myself upon the ground. Although it was early morning, there was little or no light in the cave. Seeing me lie down, the Bo's'n said that while I took a rest he would prepare some food.
"I can go down the hill now, Mr. Jones, sir. There is nothing to fear." I was weary in mind and body, and I turned over to lay my head upon my arm. As I did so there came a faint sound as of a footstep, and I saw Cynthia approaching. She seemed like herself. She walked with her eyes open, and advanced with confidence. I arose to my feet at once.
"Are you better?" I asked.
"S-h-h-h!" said the Skipper, his warning finger upraised.
Cynthia started at the sound of my voice, put her hand to her head, rubbed her eyes and opened them. They fell upon my face. A smile of recognition overspread her features as she raised her eyes to mine, when a shout of terror filled the chamber. It came from the Bo's'n. The others sprang up, and with me followed with their gaze the direction of his pointed finger. We each, I think, emitted a sound of some kind, all but the English lad, who was still sleeping.
I can see the Bo's'n now, his hair standing on end, his arms raised across his forehead. Cynthia fell back into my arms and pinioned me against the wall, for it was a sight which made the other occupants of the cave fall each one upon his face.