CHAPTER XI.
THE ABDUCTION—THE SKELETON DANCE—THE PURSUIT—HORRIBLE DOINGS IN THE VILLAGE.
THE ABDUCTION—THE SKELETON DANCE—THE PURSUIT—HORRIBLE DOINGS IN THE VILLAGE.
The sounds which Colonel Blood had heard for a moment aroused his bold spirit, and as he crossed the mill bridge, slowly and calmly, he resolved upon arriving at some explanation concerning it.
But the very hubbub and confusion which reigned were of infinite use to him in regard to his projected scheme with the pretty Ellen Harmer.
Her father, the miller, and the whole of the villagers, as we have seen, were thoroughly aroused and greatly incensed at the behaviour of Jonas.
Some began to talk of hanging the unlucky servant on the morrow, and, dark as it was, they gathered together in groups, discussing the subject with great animation and many angry gestures.
But this very confusion assisted the bold, conscienceless colonel.
He walked up to the miller’s house, and found it deserted.
Not a soul was in the dwelling, save Ellen herself.
Half stupefied with the strange stories she had heard, Ellen remained in her own chamber, trembling that the Skeleton Crew were in the village.
A single lamp burned dimly in the miller’s parlour.
Colonel Blood, as he crept towards the house, felt satisfied that she was alone.
“Now is my time,” said he; “none but the brave deserve the fair; now or never.”
He walked boldly into the house, opened the parlour door hastily, and entered the apartment.
Ellen had been on her knees praying, and her face was deadly pale.
She started suddenly as she saw the handsome stranger enter.
“Fly! fly for your life, fair maid,” said Blood, in accents of alarm.
“What means this intrusion, sir?” said Ellen, drawing herself up to her full height, and with a proud look. “What means this strange intrusion?”
“It means this, Miss Harmer, that the village has been set upon by that desperate gang called the Skeleton Crew, and that they are intent upon murdering all who oppose them. Fly! I beg of you, do not delay a single instant, or all may be lost!”
“Sir!” cried Ellen, half aloud, distrustful of her own senses, and yet knowing not whether to believe or disbelieve the colonel’s words.
“Nay, stop not to parley, dear Ellen,” said Blood, taking her by the hand; “there is not a single moment to be lost in explanation. Feel satisfied that what I say is true. Your father has sent me; he begged of me to conduct you to a place of safety until such times as the horrible Skeleton Band should have departed again.”
“Sir, all this may be true, but how am I to know it for a certainty?”
“Nay; do not hesitate: Your very life may depend upon it.”
“And my honour also, sir,” said Ellen, with a proud look. “Honour to me is dearer than life.”
“Great Patience!” said Blood, in a petulant manner. “Would you not save your father’s life?”
“My father’s life?” said Ellen, suddenly changing colour. “Is he in danger, then?”
“He is. He is now in the power of the Skeleton Crew, and if you are found here five minutes longer you will surely be dragged off a captive by Death-wing, their chief.”
“Whither, then, would you lead me?”
“To Darlington Hall. Sir Richard and his servants are out and armed against this famous band. It is by old Sir Richard’s desire, coupled with your father’s, that I now come here.”
“Then you are known to Sir Richard?”
“Yes, fair one. I am a nephew of his. I have used deception with you up to the present; but the time is now past for all that. I am Sir Richard’s nephew. Come, fly with me to the Hall, ’tis the only place of safety. Remember the dreadful scenes which have been enacted round the coast by this horrible band, and flee on the instant.”
Ellen seemed stupefied by all she heard, and mechanically threw a light wrapper round her shoulders.
In a few moments she left her father’s house, misled and deceived by the oily tongue of as great and fearless a scoundrel as ever lived.
“This way!—this way!” said Blood, blandly. “Haste, fair one, haste!”
He placed a rough, strong arm round the maiden’s waist, and helped her along.
“This way is the nearest,” he said, with a grim smile of satisfaction, as they both hurriedly approached the mill bridge.
When they were about to cross, several of the planks being old, loose, and rotten, began to creak ominously, and the winds sighed dolefully.
Ellen stopped for a moment.
Her eyes enlarged to twice their ordinary size.
She saw something on the bridge that startled her.
“What is that?” she said, half-gasping, pointing to something on the planks which looked red.
“Oh! nothing, nothing, fair one,” said Blood, grimly smiling.
“But itissomething,” said Ellen, turning pale, and gazing intently. “Look! see here—and here—and here—they are large clots of gore!”
“Impossible!” said Blood, coolly.
“Yes, they are; and here,” she said, “is part of a broken sword. How came all this? Nay, do not hurry me onward. I tremble—my feet refuse to walk, for I fear something horrible may obstruct my path.”
“Nonsense! nonsense, fair creature!” said Blood. “If anything has happened it is all the doings of that horrible band of Skeletons. Nothing more. If you wish to escape yourself, follow my advice at once.”
“I will, I will,” said Ellen Harmer, trembling in every limb.
She and the colonel had crossed half of the bridge when both suddenly stopped.
“What was that?” said the miller’s daughter, looking pale as death. “What voice was that?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing, fair one; ’twas only the murmuring of the wind among the oziers on theriver bank, or perhaps the babbling waters. Come, quickly, I say!”
“Oh, help! murder!” sighed a voice near by among the ozier bushes.
“D—nation!” growled Blood, half to himself, “that lout is still alive! Would for a thousand crowns he were dead! Come, lassie, think no more of it; it was your imagination only, nothing else, I assure you.”
“Oh, help!” sighed the voice again, faintly. “Ellen Harmer, I am dying! Beware of the courtly villain! Help!”
“’Tismyname that he calls,” said Ellen, turning red. “Unhand me, sir; and if you are a man help me to discover who and what this poor creature is!”
“Help!” faintly sighed the voice from among the trees.
“’Tis the voice of Andrew,” said Ellen. “Some foul villany has been here at work; this blood upon the planks is his!”
“Help!”
“’Tis Andrew Gamble’s voice.”
“D—nation!” growled Blood, and, then, in a persuasive voice, “Come, fair one, come; ’tis all imagination, believe me! Hark! do you hear the loud shouts of the villagers? Come, let’s haste away; the Skeleton Crew are butchering all they fall across. Come, haste!”
Blood put his strong arm round Ellen’s waist, and half by persuasion, half by force, bore her away, pale, trembling, and more dead than alive.
“Egad! ’twas well I used mild force with the pretty wench,” said he, “or she would have discovered all. I must return, if possible, and give that rustic a finishing touch; it will never do to let him recover and go babbling over the village, or we may be traced to London, and then all fun would end. ’Twas lucky she didn’t look in the right direction as I did, or she would have seen Master Andrew washed by the river among the bull-rushes on the bank. I just caught sight of his face in the fitful moonlight; how white and horrible it looked!”
He was so impatient to bear off Ellen Harmer to his carriage that he actually took her up in his arms.
This he explained to the struggling maid by saying that they were pursued.
Faint, weak, pale, and unresisting as she was, Ellen Harmer was so terrified at all she had heard, that it took but little to convince her that what all Blood had said was true.
With the soft tongue of a deceiver, then, he consoled her; while, with the strength of a young ox, he tore off his fair prize with the greatest ease.
“This is a good night’s work,” thought he, as he hurried forward; “his majesty will amply reward me for all this trouble, and, who knows, may raise me to the peerage, for many a man has had that reward for doing less than I have.”
Thus he mused as he went on his way.
Ere long he approached the spot where Jonas had agreed to place his carriage and horses.
His own saddle horse was there, truly, but not the carriage.
“How is this?” growled Blood. “Surely that fool, Jonas, could not have misunderstood me? I told him near this spot.”
He was now approaching the church, and resolved to wait near an old archway close beside the village green, with its May-pole, until such time as Jonas should appear with the carriage.
He remained close under the shadow of the old archway, but all was still.
The village green, with its May-pole, was deserted.
Not a soul was visible.
He threw his cloak around the miller’s daughter, and tried to comfort her.
All at once, he was astonished at the sight he saw.
His own carriage dashed up, and passed him at a furious rate.
The driver was a skeleton!
Behind the carriage stood, in grim outlines, two skeleton footmen, cocked-hats and all.
Inside, Colonel Blood could see four or five skeletons, who grinned and laughed hideously as they looked out of the window and shook their bony hands in triumph.
In the midst of the inside passengers, Colonel Blood saw two prisoners.
One was the Colonel’s coachman, the other was the fellow-footman of poor Jonas!
This unearthly and ghastly apparition was not seen by Ellen Harmer, for Blood’s cloak had been adroitly thrown over her head and face the moment the strange and horrible coachman appeared in sight.
It must be confessed that this coach-load of grim skeletons filled the colonel with wonder, if not with fear.
“I should never have believed it had I not seen it,” mused the bold colonel.
At that moment his horror even increased tenfold, as was that of the fair Ellen.
Loud laughter was heard proceeding from the village green.
It sounded not like that of mortal.
He hastily turned his head, as also did Ellen.
They both looked through the old archway towards the May-pole.
The sight they then beheld was appalling.
Round the May-pole danced a circle of skeletons!
On top of it there sat perched a grim-looking skeleton, playing ear-piercing, diabolical music from some sort of flute made out of human bones.
One of the dancers had a tambourine, with jingling bells.
As they danced and capered about in most fantastic styles, they shook their bony hands in a dismal manner, which made Colonel Blood’s flesh to creep again.
Directly Ellen Harmer caught sight of this dreadful exhibition, she fell back into Blood’s arms.
She now fully believed all that the colonel had told her, and relied upon his protection as a man of honour.
She was too much frightened to speak, and trembled violently as the colonel supported her.
But Blood seemed fastened to the spot.
He looked, and looked again at the terrible dance of the skeletons.
He had never dreamed of ever seeing anything so hideous or horrible.
“Who and what are they?” said Blood, half aloud; “are they men or devils?”
“Devils!” said a chorus of unseen voices. “Who stabbed Andrew Gamble? Ha, ha! Who wants to run away with the pretty daughter of Harmer the miller, eh? Go, tell your master what you have seen—go, tell him; he may one day expect us. Away, Colonel Blood, away!”
These words were uttered in such fierce tones, and with such a hissing sound, that they grated on Blood’s ears.
“I fear not man nor devil,” he growled savagely in return.
But the continual sight of the strange, wild, skeleton dance seemed to discompose him.
He seized Ellen Harmer round the waist, and with the greatest ease vaulted into his saddle.
“These devils have seized my carriage and servants,” said he, “but ’tis lucky they did not discover my horse here under the gateway, or all would have been lost.”
While in the act of mounting his splendid animal, the colonel did not perceive that the skeleton dancers had approached him.
When he looked to the right and left he found himself surrounded by the grim disciples of Death-wing, the grim skeleton chief.
With a shout, and an oath of surprise and annoyance, he raised his riding-whip and cut his way from the midst of those around him.
He put spurs to his horse, and plunged forward on the road towards London, with Ellen Harmer on the saddle before him.
He had not gone two miles when he turned round to ascertain the cause of a distant rumbling noise.
Not far behind him, he could perceive his own carriage, driven by a skeleton coachman, in full pursuit!
Skeleton heads were protruding from windows on each side of the coach, who waved their long arms and shook them in gestures of savage revenge.
“Pursued!” thought Blood; “and by this terrible band.”
He dug his spurs deeply into the flanks of his gallant steed, and fled like the wind.
But the Skeleton Band was slowly and surely gaining on him.
It was now a race for life or death!