CHAPTER XXVI.
_Despair of Uncle Moses.--Frank and Bob endeavor to offerConsolation.--The Search.--The Discovery at the Convent.--TheGuide.--The old House.--The Captives.--The Alarm given.--Flightof Uncle Moses and his Party.--Albans! to the Rescue!--The DeliveringHost!_
On leaving the convent, Frank and Bob had hurried back to Albano,where they found dinner ready, and Uncle Moses waiting for them inanxious impatience. This anxious impatience was not by any meansdiminished when he saw only two out of the four coming back to him,nor was it alleviated one whit when they informed him that Davidand Clive had gone to see some subterranean passage, of the natureor location of which they had but the vaguest possible conception.His first impulse was to go forth at once in search of them, andbring them back with him by main force; and it was only with extremedifficulty that Frank and Bob dissuaded him from this.
"Why, they're perfectly safe--as safe as if they were here," saidFrank. "It isn't possible for anything at all to happen to them.The convent guide--a monk--is with them, and a very fine fellow heis, too. He knows all about the country."
"O, yes; but these monks ain't to my taste. I don't like 'em,"said Uncle Moses.
"It'll take them an hour to get back here from the place. There'sno use for you to try to go there, for you don't know the way; andif you did go, why, they might come back and find you gone, andthen we'd have to wait for you. So, you see, the best thing to do,Uncle Moses, is for us all to set quietly down, get our dinner,and wait for them to come back."
The numerous frights which Uncle Moses had already been called onto experience about his precious but too troublesome charges hadalways turned out to be groundless; and the result had invariablybeen a happy one; yet this did not at all prevent Uncle Moses fromfeeling as anxious, as worried, and as unsettled, on this occasion,as he had ever been before. He sat down to the table, therefore,because Frank urged it, and he hardly knew how to move without hiscooperation. He said nothing. He was silenced, but not convinced.He ate nothing. He merely dallied with his knife and fork, andplayed listlessly with the viands upon his plate. Frank and Bobwere both as hungry as hunters, and for some time had no eyes butfor their food. At last, however, they saw that Uncle Moses waseating nothing; whereupon they began to remonstrate with him, andtried very earnestly to induce him to take something. In vain.Uncle Moses was beyond the reach of persuasion. His appetite wasgone with his wandering boys, and would not come back until theyshould come also. The dinner ended, and then Uncle Moses grew morerestless than ever. He walked out, and paced the street up anddown, every little while coming back to the hotel, and lookinganxiously in to see if the wanderers had returned. Frank and Bobfelt sorry that he should feel so much unnecessary anxiety, butthey did not know what to do, or to say. They had done and saidall that they possibly could. Uncle Moses refused to be comforted,and so there was nothing more for them to do.
At length the hour passed which Frank had allotted as the time oftheir absence, and still they did not come. Uncle Moses now came,and stared at them with a disturbed face and trembling frame. Hesaid not a word. The situation was one which, to his mind, renderedwords useless.
"O, come now, Uncle Moses," said Frank; "they're all right. What'sthe use of imagining all sorts of nonsense? Suppose they are delayeda few minutes longer--what of that? They couldn't reckon upon beingback in exactly an hour. The guide said, 'about an hour.' You'llhave to make some allowance."
Uncle Moses tried to wait longer, and succeeded in controllinghimself for about half an hour more. Then he found inactionintolerable, and insisted on Frank and Bob accompanying him on asearch for the lost ones. Frank suggested the necessity of goingto the convent first, and getting another guide. He left word atthe hotel where they had gone, and why, so that David and Clivemight follow them, or send word; and then they all three set forthfor the convent.
On reaching the place, the first man that they saw was no otherthan the guide himself. At this sight even Frank was amazed, anda little disturbed. He asked him hurriedly where the boys were.
"De boys?" said the guide. "Haf dey not come to de hotel?"
"No."
"But I did leave dem on de road to go back, and dey did go. Deymust be back."
"But they're not back. And I want to hunt them up," said Frank."Where was the road where you say you left them?"
"I will go myself and show you de ver place," said the guide. "Donot fear. Dere can come no harm. It is not possibile."
With these words the guide set forth to take them', to the place.These words of the guide added; if possible, to the deep distressand dismay of Uncle Moses. He was only conscious now that the boyswere without any guide in some unknown, perhaps dangerous place.If he feared while he supposed that they had a guide, his fearsunder these new and worse circumstances were far greater.
On the way the guide explained all about it. He told about thetunnel, about the path which he had recommended as a short cut. Hedeclared that it was perfectly straight, and that it was impossiblefor any one to get lost between Albano and the place where he leftthem. There was no place, he declared, for them to get lost in. Itwas quite open--a little valley--that was all.
But this gave no comfort to poor Uncle Moses. He walked alonglooking ten years older, with his face full of grief. At lengththe guide came to the path along which he had sent David and Clive,and turning into this, he walked along in the direction where hehad seen them go.
"We haf now," he said, "to walk to de hotel at Albano, and you sallfind dey did come back, and will be dere at dis moments."
"What a joke it would be," cried Frank, "if they have got back,and have started off after us! I wonder whether they would. Notthey. I don't believe it. They're starving, and will think ofnothing but their dinners."
But poor Uncle Moses refused to see any "joke" at all. It was adeeply solemn reality to his poor, distracted breast.
At length they came within sight of the house.
As they walked on, there came to their ears a long, shrill yell.All of them started. At first they did not detect the source ofthe sound. Then it was repeated.
"Hallo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!"
They looked all around. Frank saw two figures, one at each windowof the old house.
"Hallo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!"
The cry was repeated. It came from these two figures. Those mustbe David and Clive; but how in the name of wonder had they gotthere, and what were they doing? But he said not a word. He merelypointed, and then started off at a full run, followed first by Bob,then by the guide, and last by Uncle Moses, who did not yet comprehendwhy Frank was running, or where.
A smart run of only a few minutes brought them to the place. Therethey saw David at one window, and Clive at the other. Both of themappeared to be tremendously excited, and were shouting to them mostvociferously, both together, in an utterly confused an unintelligiblemanner. At length some words in the midst of their outcries becamedistinguishable.
"Keep back! O, keep back! The wild boar! The wild boar! Run forhelp! Keep back! You'll be torn to pieces! Keep back! Run for help."
At this Uncle Moses shrank back in spite of himself, and theguide looked much disturbed; but Frank and Bob stubbornlystood their ground.
"What do you mean?" cried Frank. "Don't kick up such a row. Whatwild boar? Where is he?"
"Underneath!" bawled Clive.
"He's watching us," shouted David.
"He was hid in there, and we came in and waked him. We got up here,and he won't let us out!"
"He'll spring at you if you come any nearer," shouted David.
"Keep back! O, keep back! I hear him now," bawled Clive.
"Go and get help!" cried David. "Get a gun--or something!"
"Help us out soon," cried Clive; "we're starving!"
"Keep back!" cried Clive. do. cried David.
"Go and get help!" cried Clive. do. cried David.
"Get a gun!" cried Clive. do. cried David.
"Help!" cried Clive. do. cried David.
/> "Take care!" cried Clive. do. cried David.
"He'll tear you to pieces!" cried Clive. do. cried David.
Etc., etc., etc.!
"Come back," said the guide, in evident anxiety. "We are too near.We can do notin', We mas get arm."
"But do you think there really is a wild boar there?" asked Frank.
The guide said nothing, but shook his head solemnly, and lookedunutterable things. Mean while he continued to retreat, watchingthe small door of the old house, and the rest followed him, as theythought he knew better what ought to be done than they did. Theguide took up that line of retreat which led towards Albano, andas he did so he watched the door of the house with evident anxiety,as though fearful of seeing at any moment the formidable beastbound forth to rush upon them. But at length, after he had placeda considerable distance between himself and the old house, he beganto breathe more freely, and to think about what ought next to bedone.
"Do you think it really is a wild boar?" asked Frank once more ofthe guide.
"Dey did say dat, dey did see him," said he.
"Yes; but how do they know? They never saw a wild boar," objectedFrank.
"Any man dat sees a wild boar will know him," said the guide.
"I didn't know that there--were any about here."
"About here?"
"Yes; so near the town, and public roads. I thought that an animallike the wild boar prefers the moat solitary places, and will nevercome near where men are living."
"Dat is right," said the guide. "Dat is so. Bot sommataime dey gowild--dey lose der young--or sommatin like dat, so dey go wild,and wander, an if dey happen to come near a villa, dey are terrible."
"But how could this one have come here?"
"Italia is full of dem--dey wander about like dis."
"But they live so far off."
"O, no; dis one come from de mountain--not far--dat old house inde valley, just de place for his den."
After this Frank could doubt no longer, although he had been soobstinate in his disbelief. The affair of the previous night hadproduced a powerful effect on his mind; and he was exceedinglyunwilling to allow himself again to be beguiled into a belief inany danger that was not real. Had the guide not believed this sofirmly, and insisted on it so strongly, he would have felt certainthat the animal in the house was some commonplace one--a goat--adog--anything, rather than a wild boar. However, as it was, he hadnothing left but to believe what was said.
As for Uncle Moses, he was now quite himself again. The boys weresafe, at any rate. True, they were confined in the loft of an oldhouse, with a ferocious wild beast barring the way to liberty; butthen he reflected that this ferocious wild beast could not get nearthem. Had it been a bear, the affair would have been most serious;but a wild boar, as he knew, could not climb into a loft. For amongthe intelligence which David and Clive had managed to communicate,was the very reassuring fact that the boar could not get at them,as the loft was only reached by a ladder. The return to Albanowas in every way satisfactory to his feelings, for he saw that thiswas the only way of delivering the boys, who could not be rescuedwithout some more formidable arms than their own unassisted strength.
In a short time they were back in Albano, and soon the news flewabout the town. In accordance with the invariable rule, the storywas considerably enlarged as it passed from mouth to mouth, so thatby the time it reached the last person that heard it,--a poor oldbed-ridden priest, by the way,--it had grown to the following highlyrespectable dimensions:--
Two wealthy English milors had gone into the Alban tunnel in searchof adventures. While down there they had discovered the lair of awild boar, and had killed the young, the old ones being away. Theyhad then made good their retreat, carrying their slaughtered victimswith them. The wild boar had returned with the wild sow, and both,scenting their young pigs' blood in the air, had given chase tothe murderers. These last had fled in frantic haste, and had justsucceeded in finding a refuge in the old windmill, and in climbinginto the upper loft as the infuriated animals came up. Seeing thelegs of the murderers just vanishing up into the hole, one of thebeasts had leaped madly upward, and had bitten off a portion ofthe calf of the leg of one of them. Then, in sullen vengeance, thetwo fierce animals took up their station there, one in the chamberbelow, the other in front of the door, to guard their prey, andeffect their destruction. They had already been there a week. Oneof the prisoners had died from the effects of his terrible wound,and the other was now dying of starvation. Fortunately, BrotherAntonio (the guide) had been told about this in a vision the nightbefore, had visited the surviving milor, had talked with him froma safe distance, had seen the terrible animals, and had now cometo Albano to get help towards releasing the unhappy survivor.
From the above it may readily be conjectured that the call forhelp was not made in vain. The sufferings of the imprisonedcaptive excited universal sympathy, and the presence of the wildboars in so close proximity, filled all men with a desire tocapture them or slay them. The story that was generally believedwas one which may be briefly described as occupying a positionsomewhere about midway between the above startling fiction andthe truth. Such as it was, it had the effect of drawing forththe population of Albano as it bad never been drawn forth before;and as they went forth they presented a scene such as those ofwhich the mediaeval legends tell us, where the whole populationof some town which had been desolated by a dragon, went forth enmasse to do battle with the monster.
So they now marched forth,-- Men with scythes. do. " hoes. do. " rakes. do. " shovels. do. " tongs. do. " brooms. do. " bean-poles. do. " carving-knives. do. " umbrellas. do. " stones. do. " earthen pans. do. " bricks. do. " charcoal. do. " chairs. do. " spits. do. " bed-posts. do. " crowbars. do. " augers. do. " spades. do. " stakes. do. " clubs. Men with staves, do. " opera-glasses. do. " sickles. do. " colters. do. " ploughshares. do. " wheelbarrows. do. " pitchforks. do. " posts. do. " beams. do. " bolts. do. " bars. do. " hinges. do. " pokers. do. " saucepans. do. " mallets. do. " hammers. do. " saws. do. " chisels. do. " ropes. do. " chains. do. " grappling irons.together with a miscellaneous collection of articlessnatched up at a moment's warning by an excitedmultitude, men, women, and children, headed byFrank, who wielded triumphantly an old fowling-piece,loaded with a double charge, that could dono damage to any one save the daring individualthat might venture to discharge it.
Among the Brigands Page 27
