CHAPTER XXVI.
THE BRIGAND'S RECRUIT--HUNSTON'S PERIL--DELICATEGROUND.
"Who is it?"
"Where?"
"Below; down that crevasse. Look again."
"I see; it is Ymeniz."
"It is, it is."
The speakers were two of the brigands who were plying their lawlesstrade; and passing along a mountain ridge, a short time after theexecution, they suddenly espied the body of a man lying flat upon hisback.
Upon his breast was something white, which they could not quitedistinguish.
The form and features, however, they had no particular difficulty inrecognising.
It was their comrade Ymeniz, they could see well.
"He has fallen down there," said one to the other.
"It looks so."
Now, strange to relate, that although they said this to each other,they both had misgivings.
The body lay in such a strange attitude.
However, they soon proceeded to solve the problem, and set all doubtsat rest.
Passing down to a lower ridge by a circuitous path well known to themboth, they reached the bottom of the crevasse.
"He is dead--murdered!"
"Hah!"
"And here, by all the powers of evil!" exclaimed the brigand, "here isthe confession of the murderer."
"A confession!" exclaimed the brigand.
"Yes. Take it," said the other, lifting the paper from the blood-stainedbreast of the slain Ymeniz, "take it and read for yourself."
"Nay, you know I am no scholar; do you read it out to me."
In a sonorous voice the brigand read the following document--
"I, Jack Harkaway, proclaim war to the knife against the murderers ofmy boys. The villains Hunston and Toro will tell you all that I neverthreatened in vain. One of your number shall die daily until I haveexterminated you root and branch. No amount of precaution upon yourpart can avert your doom. You claimed a ransom of five hundred poundsfor my son. I have paid the sum demanded, and you have played me false;therefore, you die. To the last man you shall perish. You shall learnto look forward to your fate in fear and trembling; and day by day thesurvivors, anticipating their turn, shall learn to curse the hour thatthey were led to murder my two innocent boys. Beware!"
The two brigands looked at each other half scared.
"What of that, do you think?"
The other looked nervously around him before replying.
"It is grave."
"Very."
"Poor Ymeniz! he has been stabbed in the back."
"No; here is the death wound below the heart."
"Then he has not been taken by surprise."
"Evidently."
The two men made their way with all despatch to their camp, carryingthe paper with them.
The sensation it caused is indescribable when Boulgaris read it aloudto the assembled brigands.
"Death to the Englishman Harkaway!" exclaimed one of the brigands,impetuously.
The cry was caught eagerly up by all--save one.
This one was Hunston.
It was not that he hated Harkaway less intensely than his comrades thathe remained silent.
It was simply that in his fierce denunciation of the brigands, Harkawayhad told about the money.
Lirico was barely cold in his grave for an offence which, beside thatof Hunston's, was a mere paltry pilfering.
The secret was in great danger now.
If they should believe Harkaway, then his (Hunston's) position wasindeed critical. What should he do? What would be better than to castdoubt and derision upon Harkaway's dark menaces.
"The man is a charlatan, a humbug," he said, curling his lip; "and hispurpose is more than accomplished could he but know it, which he doesnot, I am glad to say. He would laugh rarely could he but know what analarm you have taken at this message."
But they would not let this pass unchallenged.
"It is no joke, Hunston," said Boulgaris, seriously.
"How do you know?" demanded Hunston, quickly.
"The death of Ymeniz is proof enough. That is no joke."
"True!"
"Moreover, I for one feel sure that this Englishman Harkaway speakstruly."
"How?"
"In saying that he gave the ransom."
"In full?"
"In full."
"Why, where, then, do you think it is?" demanded Hunston, with anassumption of boldness, yet trembling as he waited the reply.
Boulgaris answered with a single word--
"Stolen."
A murmur ran round the assembled throng.
"What!" cried one of the brigands, stepping forward; "is it possiblethat we have more thieves and traitors amongst us?"
"Never!"
"Death to all traitors, say I!"
"And I."
"And I."
And so the cry went round from mouth to mouth.
Hunston trembled for his very life.
"Who can have stolen the money?" demanded one of the men, fiercely.
"Who but he who was charged to fetch the money from the old well, thespot appointed--who but the comrade that fetched the money?"
"Why," exclaimed Toro, turning to Hunston, "then it was--"
He paused.
Hunston turned heartsick as every eye was directed towards him.
"Never!" exclaimed Hunston, fiercely.
This was a critical moment for the latter.
For awhile his life hung upon a very slender thread.
Hunston, to begin with, was no favourite.
But he was a lucky villain.
At the very moment that matters were looking so very unpleasant, theirattention was called off in another direction.
"Do you hear that? The sentry is giving the alarm."
They were all accustomed to danger, and were on the qui vive ere thealarm was fairly sounded.
Pistols, knives, and blunderbusses were called into requisition.
And all was ready to give an intruder a warm reception.
Toro climbed up a crag and peered over.
Then turning to the men, he motioned them to silence.
"Hush! He comes this way. Back!"
And then, at a sign from him, every man glided quickly, silently off,and concealed himself behind a rock, or bush, or wherever a favourableplace was to be discovered.
Then a stumbling noise was heard, and a man crept through a gap andhobbled on to the scene.
He was a strange, wild-looking fellow, with long fair hair and eyebrowsalmost as light as an albino's.
His cheeks were fair, but much sunburnt, and almost destitute of beard.
He progressed with difficulty, and leant heavily upon a staff cutroughly from a tree, and from its green bark and slovenly-strippedbranches only recently cut, too.
He was apparently a young man, and if he progressed with so muchdifficulty, the natural inference was that fatigue and perhaps illnesswas the cause of it.
He was dressed in a very tattered outlandish costume.
He carried a long knife stuck in his waistband, but he had no armsbeyond this.
His arms were bare to the elbow, and the left one was bleeding from aflesh wound that did not look many hours' old.
Evidently he was no milksop, for although the wound was pretty severe,the only care he had taken was to tie it loosely up with a strip ofwhite rag.
Perhaps he had lost blood and began to feel it, for, as he drew intothe open, he dropped heavily down upon a rocky seat and gave a sigh orgrunt of relief.
"I'm not sorry to come to an anchor."
He spoke in English.
But if he thought to rest here in peace, he was destined to bedisappointed.
Barely had he stretched out his legs, when he was startled by a soundat his side, and glancing up, he found a huge, black-muzzled fellowtowering above him and covering him with a long-barrelled horse pistol.
"Hullo!"
Out came his long knife instanter.
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p; "Move or speak, and I pull the trigger," said the brigand.
"Thank you for nothing," said the stranger.
"Who are you?" demanded the brigand.
"Just what I was about to ask you," returned the stranger, lightly.
"Whence come you?"
"Precisely the question I was going to put."
The brigand's colour came and he grew vicious.
"If you are wise, you'll not try to fool me," he said.
"If you have any wit," retorted the new-comer, "you'll not comepestering me with questions; I'm not in the humour, and when I am putout, I'm dangerous. Good-morning."
The brigand, finding he could get nothing out of the eccentricstranger, fell back a pace or two, and the latter thought that he wasto be molested no further.
He was mistaken.
Nor was he long in making this discovery.
The withdrawal of the brigand was a signal for a regular mob of thelawless men to make their appearance.
Every nook and cranny about the opening was guarded by armed men; andnow, when the cool stranger glanced up-wards, he found a dozen rifles,pistols or blunderbusses pointed at him.
Still he did not appear disconcerted.
He only glanced about him with a coolness that was remarkable, andmuttered--
"Dear, dear, how very attentive these dear boys are."
Before he could speak to them, however, they stepped out from theirhiding places, and with their firearms still making him their target,they advanced to close in upon him.
When he saw the object of this manoeuvre, he jumped up and plucked outhis knife.
"So, so," he cried, "sold, eh? Come on, all of you."
"What does he say?" demanded one of the Greeks, turning to Toro.
"He challenges us all at once to fight him."
"Why, the fellow's mad or an Englishman."
"Yes," said Hunston, "an Englishman. That makes him feel he is a matchfor a mob of Greeks, and I don't know that it is all madness."
Suddenly the stranger appeared to liven up.
"What, you are not the police, then?" he ejaculated.
"Police!" said Hunston, contemptuously turning round to the speaker.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Why, I took you for the police in pursuit of me."
"What have you been doing?"
"Am I among friends?"
"We are brigands, but you can speak freely."
"Well, then, I am an unlucky wretch who has been forced to bolt awayfrom his master and his living--and all for nothing."
"What do you call nothing?" said Toro.
"A trifling peccadillo, sir; nothing more, I assure you--merely a fewpounds and a paltry bit of jewellery belonging to an Englishwoman ofthe name of Harkaway."
They all pricked up their ears at this name.
"Hullo, hullo!" exclaimed Toro; "what is this? Stand forward, man. Doyou know Harkaway?"
"I do--to my sorrow," replied the man; "he was my master."
The brigands all pricked up their ears at this.
"Harkaway's servant, were you?" said Hunston, eagerly.
"I was, sir."
"And what may be your object in coming here?"
"To join you."
"Do you know--"
"Who you are? Yes, of course; at least I can guess it--I'm uncommongood at guessing."
And he chuckled again.
"The fellow's an idiot," said Hunston.
"Do you bring any information to us?"
This question was put by the Italian bully and brigand, and to him thestranger turned with an elaborate bow.
"What do you want?"
"To get hold of Harkaway himself," cried Toro.
"Then I can help you to do this."
"You can--then money shall be yours," said Toro.
"I hope so; why, I've got that already from them."
"You have!--much?"
"A pretty lump. Look."
It was a bag of money composed of pieces of copper, silver and gold.
It was a good round sum, and it looked considerably more than it was.
"Is that all?"
"I have these few nicknacks," added the stranger, producing a bundletied in his pocket-handkerchief.
They tore open the bundle eagerly and it was found to contain variousarticles of plate, a silver candlestick, and some jewels.
"Those," he said, pointing to the latter, "belonged to Mrs. Harkaway,and I believe she set some store by them--they were wedding presents."
"So much the better," exclaimed Toro, exultingly.
"So say I," added Hunston.
"Is all this a fair amount for a fellow to bring as his entrance fee?"demanded the stranger.
"What say you, comrades?" demanded Toro of the bystanders. "You are thebest judges. Shall we admit this man in as a brother and a comrade?"
"We will," shouted the brigands.
"Agreed on all hands?" said the Italian chief.
"Agreed."
It was answered as if with a single voice.
"Good," said Toro; "do you, Boulgaris, prescribe the oath."
The oath, which was administered in Greek, was not at all understood bythe novice, but he subscribed to it cheerfully.
"You swear to devote your life to the destruction of your enemies,"said Hunston.
"I do," responded the new brigand, with fervour.
"Enough. What is your name?"
"Geoffrey Martin."
"Geoffrey Martin," repeated Toro; "the name has a ring about it that Ilike. Now understand, the end of the Harkaways draws near; one hasalready paid the forfeit."
"Who?" cried the stranger.
"Two!" said a voice.
The brigands turned and beheld Diana, the widow of Mathias.
"Two have already fallen, for I myself struck the wife of this hatedHarkaway to the heart with my dagger," cried the fierce woman.
And she then recounted (as we have done in a previous chapter) how shegained admittance to the Harkaway mansion, concealed herself in Mrs.Harkaway's chamber, and dealt her the fatal blow.
To all this the brigands' new recruit listened calmly enough.
When, with an air of triumph, Diana concluded her narration, thebrigands cheered loudly.
"Another of our hated foes dead. Three cheers for the brave Diana!"
"Certainly," said Geoffrey Martin politely.
And his voice was heard in the general shout.
"Now, gentlemen," said he, when silence was once more restored, "allowme to correct one very slight error in the statement of this good andvalorous lady."
"What is that?" demanded Toro.
"Her narrative is quite correct, with this little exception--it was notMrs. Harkaway who was killed."
Diana turned pale, and uttering a wail of disappointment, sat down.
Hunston, after venting a few fearful imprecations, said--
"Then I hope and trust it may have been the wife of that confoundedHarvey."
"It was not, and to tell you the truth, I am rather glad of it, for, doyou know I have almost fallen in love with her?"
"Cheek!" muttered Hunston. "Well, who was it, then?"
"You must know I was waiting on them at the dinner table, when Mrs.Harkaway expressed a wish that her fan, which she had forgotten, mightbe brought.
"I was going to call some of the female servants, but Harkaway himselfwent and before he had been gone a minute, we heard him scream out--
"Help! Murder!"
Away rushed Harvey and that long American fellow, Jefferson, whileMrs. Harkaway fainted.
But in a few minutes the three came back with the news that Mrs.Harkaway's maid--Marietta by name--had been killed.
"No fault of yours, madam, for the girl had been dressing herself insome of Mrs. Harkaway's clothes, and no doubt she looked as much a ladyas her mistress."
"What then?" demanded Diana.
"The police took the matter in hand, and are now searching everywherefor the murderer."
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"Let them search," said Diana, with a scornful laugh.
There was silence for a time; then Diana asked--
"Did you hear anything of Tomaso?"
"Yes. He is condemned to die."
"When?" demanded Toro.
"The date is kept secret, so that you may have less chance of rescuinghim."
Toro growled an oath and departed.
Jack Harkaway and His Son's Escape from the Brigands of Greece Page 27
