Cord and Creese
Page 58
CHAPTER LVIII.
THE MALAY'S VENGEANCE.
Some hours afterward Despard called Brandon outside the cottage, andwalked along the bank which overhung the beach. Arriving at a pointseveral hundred yards distant from the cottage he stopped. Brandonnoticed a deeper gloom upon his face and a sterner purpose on hisresolute mouth.
"I have called you aside," said Despard, "to say that I am going on ajourney. I may be back immediately. If I do not return, will you say toany one who may ask"--and here he paused for a moment--"say to any onewho may ask, that I have gone away on important business, and that thetime of my coming is uncertain."
"I suppose you can be heard of at Holby, in case of need."
"I am never going back again to Holby."
Brandon looked surprised.
"To one like you," said Despard, "I do not object to tell my purpose.You know what it is to seek for vengeance. The only feeling that I haveis that. Love, tenderness, affection, all are idle words with me.
"There are three who pre-eminently were concerned in my father's death,"continued Despard. "One was Cigole. The Carbonari have him. Langhettitells me that he must die, unless he himself interposes to save him. AndI think Langhetti will never so interpose. Langhetti is dying--anotherstimulus to vengeance.
"The one who has been the cause of this is Clark, another one of myfather's murderers. He is in the hands of the law. His punishment iscertain.
"There yet remains the third, and the worst. Your vengeance is satisfiedon him. Mine is not. Not even the sight of that miscreant in theattitude of a bereaved father could for one moment move me to pity. Itook note of the agony of his face. I watched his grief with joy. I amgoing to complete that joy. He must die, and no mortal can save him frommy hands."
The deep, stern tones of Despard were like the knell of doom, andthere was in them such determinate vindictiveness that Brandon saw allremonstrance to be useless.
He marked the pale sad face of this man. He saw in it the traces ofsorrow of longer standing than any which he might have felt about themanuscript that he had read. It was the face of a man who had sufferedso much that life had become a burden.
"You are a clergyman," said Brandon at length, with a faint hope that anappeal to his profession might have some effect.
Despard smiled cynically.
"I am a man," said he.
"Can not the discovery of a sister," asked Brandon, "atone in somedegree for your grief about your father?"
Despard shook his head wearily.
"No," said he, "I must do something, and only one purpose is before menow. I see your motive. You wish to stop short of taking that devil'slife. It is useless to remonstrate. My mind is made up. Perhaps I maycome back unsuccessful. If so--I must be resigned, I suppose. At anyrate you know my purpose, and can let those who ask after me know, in ageneral way, what I have said."
With a slight bow Despard walked away, leaving Brandon standing therefilled with thoughts which were half mournful, half remorseful.
On leaving Brandon Despard went at once to the inn. The crowd withouthad dwindled away to half a dozen people, who were still talking aboutthe one event of the day. Making his way through these he entered theinn.
The landlord stood there with a puzzled face, discussing with severalfriends the case of the day. More particularly he was troubled bythe sudden departure of the old man, who about an hour previously hadstarted off in a great hurry, leaving no directions whatever as to whatwas to be done with the body up stairs. It was this which now perplexedthe landlord.
Despard listened attentively to the conversation. The landlord mentionedthat Potts had taken the road to Brandon. The servant who had been withthe young man had not been seen. If the old man should not return whatwas to be done?
This was enough for Despard, who had his horse saddled without delayand started also on the Brandon road. He rode on swiftly for some time,hoping to overtake the man whom he pursued. He rode, however, severalmiles without coming in sight of him or of any one like him. At lasthe reached that hollow which had been the scene of his encounter withClark. As he descended into it he saw a group of men by the road-sidesurrounding some object. In the middle of the road was a farmer's wagon,and a horse was standing in the distance.
"IT WAS POTTS."]
Despard rode up and saw the prostrate figure of a man. He dismounted.The farmers stood aside and disclosed the face.
It was Potts.
Despard stooped down. It was already dusk but even in that dim lighthe saw the coils of a thin cord wound tightly about the neck of thisvictim, from one end of which a leaden bullet hung down.
By that light also he saw the hilt of a weapon which had been plungedinto his heart, from which the blood had flowed in torrents.
It was a Malay creese. Upon the handle was carven a name:
JOHN POTTS.