WON BY CRIME
CHAPTER I
A young girl, about eighteen, with a slender, elegant form, beautifulstraight features, and eyes of softest darkness, sitting before alarge table covered with maps and drawings, which she was tryingvainly to study.
"It is no use!" she cried, at last, pushing back the mass of thickblack hair falling over her white brow; "I shall never be able to getIndia by heart, unless I can see the places. I wish papa would let usgo reconnoitering amongst the ruined temples and other mysteriousbuildings; it is so annoying staying here day after day, never seeinganything outside the palace."
"My dear Lianor," said her companion, a young man scarcely older thanherself, and wonderfully like her, "what new idea, have you got now?"
"An idea of seeing more of the curious places I have read so muchabout. Fancy living a lifetime in a country and never going beyond onetown! If I do not get some excitement, I shall die of ennui, so I warnyou."
"I quite agree with you, and if uncle would only let us, it would bedelightful, seeking out the temples so long deserted. But you know hewould not," shrugging his shoulders.
"I'm not so sure of that. Papa never refuses me anything, and when hesees it is necessary to my happiness I should go, he will consent.Anyhow, I will try," jumping eagerly to her feet. "Come, Leone."
Her cousin rose, and took the white, outstretched hand; then like twochildren they crossed the beautiful marble hall, until, arrivingbefore a door draped with rich curtains, Lianor paused and softlyknocked.
"Come in!" rather impatiently.
With a smile Lianor opened the door, and entered, followed byPantaleone.
In the room, handsomely fitted up as a study, sat a fine-looking,middle-aged man, busily wilting; his dark face wore an expression ofseverity as he glanced toward the intruders.
It quickly faded, however, on seeing the pretty figure standing there;instead, a gentle smile wreathed his lips.
"Well, Lianor, dearest, what is it?"
"Papa," and the girl stole noiselessly behind his chair, winding herarms around his neck. "I am so miserable, I have nothing to amuse me,and unless you do something to make me happier, I shall go melancholymad!"
"My dearest child, what is the matter? Are you ill?" anxiously turningto peer into the lovely face.
"No, papa; but I am so tired of this life."
"That is not like my little girl. And I have tried hard to make youhappy. Nothing in reason have I refused you--jewels, such as a queenmight envy; priceless stuffs to deck your pretty form, and otherthings which no girl of your age ever possessed," reproachfully.
Lianor bent down, and kissed his brow, lovingly--repentingly.
"You have been a great deal too good to me. But there is somethingmore I wish to ask; it will make me happy if you will grant myrequest."
"We shall see. Tell me first what it is."
Lianor briefly related her wish to visit the old temple which laybeyond Goa, to search with Panteleone the curious old ruins she had sooften read of in her studies.
Don Gracia looked grave; evidently this project did not find muchfavor in his eyes.
A Portuguese by birth, but sent to Goa as Viceroy, Don Garcia de Sahad lived there long enough to know the treacherous natures of theBrahmins who dwelt near, and feared to let his child run the risk ofbeing found and captured.
But as Lianor had truly remarked, he loved his daughter sopassionately that he very rarely refused her anything, even though hedoubted the wisdom of complying with her wishes.
"Papa"--the sweet voice was very coaxing, and the red lips close tohis cheek--"say yes, darling; it will make me so happy."
"But suppose any danger should threaten you?"
"I should be there to defend my cousin with my life!" Leone cried,fervently.
Don Gracia smiled.
"You speak bravely, my boy; but as yet you are very young. However, asLianor has set her heart upon this expedition, I suppose I must sayyes. In case of danger, I will send some soldiers to escort you."
"Oh, thank you, papa! I am so glad! Come, Leone, we will make haste, soas to set off ere the day gets more advanced."
And warmly embracing her father, the girl sped swiftly away, followedby her cousin.
In half an hour the cortege was ready, and, after some littlehesitation on Don Garcia's part, they started.
Lianor, with her two favorite maids, Lalli and Tolla, were cosilyseated in a palanquin carried by four strong men. Before, clearing herpath from all difficulties, went a body of twenty-five soldiers.Beside her, Panteleone kept up a cheerful conversation, pointing outthe beauties of the palaces through which they passed. Some twentynatives, armed with poignards, brought up the rear.
Toki, a native who had grown old in the Viceroy's palace, led the waytoward one of the ruined temples--that erected to Siva, the God ofDestruction.
Lianor gazed with awed eyes at the magnificent palace, still bearingtraces of former beauty.
"How wonderful! I must stay here, Leone, and sketch those old statues.We need go no farther."
The day was beginning to get intensely hot, so the men were nothingloth to seek shelter in the cool temple, to sleep away the sunnyhours.
Sketch-book in hand, the girl chose a shady retreat outside, and wassoon lost in her work.
Presently the dreamy silence was broken; faint cries from afar reachedher; and looking hastily up, Lianor saw a sight which made her standrooted to the spot in speechless horror.
In the distance, pouring from out the mountains, were a multitude ofIndians clad in divers costumes, carrying in their hands fantasticidols, and followed by a train of Brahmins, singing a low, monotonouschant, which had warned the girl of their approach.
Recovering her self-possession, and calling to the startled servants,Lianor entered the temple, where Panteleone and the men were quietlydozing.
"Leone, awake! The Indians are coming!"
The youth sprang to his feet, and, flinging one arm round his cousin,he drew a sharp poignard from his sash, and clutched it firmly.
"Do not be afraid, Lianor. I will guard you with my life!" he saidbravely.
"But is there no way to escape?" Lianor asked wildly, frightened atthe peril into which her folly had brought them all.
"We might have gone; but it is too late. They are here," Toki saidgravely. "The only thing we can do is to hide amongst these brokenstatues, and perhaps we may be safe from their view."
Scarcely had this been done than the procession arrived, stoppedbefore the temple, and the men commenced building a huge square pileof wood; on this they placed a bier, on which lay the corpse of an oldman, decked with silks and costly jewels.
Lianor and Panteleone, watching from their hiding-place the strangepreparations, now saw a girl, very young and beautiful, but weepingbitterly, being dragged toward the pile by a tall, hard-looking woman.
"Come!" she cried, in loud, ringing tones, "now is the time to upholdthe honor of your family, and show your courage!"
With a shudder the girl drew back, and clasping her hands piteouslytogether, said:
"Why should I thus sacrifice my young life to the cruelty of yourcustoms? I cannot endure the thought of being burnt alive--it is toohorrible!"
"It is your duty! A widow must follow her husband in death," coldly.
The youthful widow burst into passionate weeping, and gave an agonizedglance around at the vindictive faces; not one among that multitude,she thought, felt pity for the girl who was condemned to so horrible afate.
She was mistaken, and a second gaze revealed a young boy, not morethan fifteen, who was quietly sobbing, an expression of deep anguishon his face.
"Satzavan, my poor brother, you also have come to witness my painfulend!"
The boy went toward her, and wound his arms around her slim waist,drawing the dark head onto his shoulder.
"I would that I could help you," he whispered. "But what can I doamong all these fiends?"
"It is hard to die thus--so hard."
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"Savitre, I am more compassionate than you think, and I have here adraught which will send you into a deep sleep. The pain of death willthus be saved you," Konmia broke in severely, holding a vessel towardthe girl.
"No, no!" Savitre shrieked, pushing the potent drink away. "I cannot!Think how awful to awaken with the cruel flames wreathing round mybody, and my cries for help useless, deadened by the yells of thosepeople. I cannot--I will not die!"
Satzavan, deathly white, and with quivering features, drew hershuddering frame closer to him, and led her into the temple.
"Leave us for a moment, I implore you," he said, turning to his aunt."She loves me, and I may perhaps reconcile her to her fate."
"You are the head of your family; I trust to you to bring her toreason--to save the honor of a name until now without blemish," Konmiareplied, and placing the poisonous flask in Satzavan's hand, she leftthem alone in the temple.
"Quick, Savitre; we will drink this draught together, and when theyseek you, they will find us both cold in death."
"You also, my brother, speak of death! I must escape--I cannotsacrifice my life!"
"Nor shall you," a gentle voice broke in passionately, and Lianor, herface full of tender compassion, stood before the victim, Panteleonebeside her.
"Follow me," the latter said briefly, drawing the girl's arm throughhis. "Trust us, and you will yet be saved."
With joyful hearts the two Indians accompanied their kind protectors,climbing among the broken gods, higher and higher, until they at lastarrived without the temple, the other side from where the Indians wereassembled.
There they were rejoined by the soldiers and attendants, and thelittle party commenced their homeward journey, hoping the wild groupwould not discover their presence.
But their hopes were not to be realized; ere they had gone many yards,the flight of the rajah's widow had been discovered, and with hideouscries they sought eagerly to find her.
It was not long ere they espied the small party, and full of triumphdashed toward them.
"Lianor, keep back--leave me to deal with these barbarians!"Panteleone said hurriedly, and in a minute a deadly fight beganbetween the Indians and the soldiers.
But what was their strength against more than five hundred strongwarriors? Ere long the brave party was captured, and while Konmiadragged the terrified girl towards the funereal-pile, the Indiansshrieked aloud in triumphant gladness.
"To-morrow Siva will receive a sacrifice that will remain forever inthe memory of those now living. To-day, our chief's widow; to-morrow,the Portuguese prisoners!"
* * * * *
After his daughter had gone, Don Garcia was filled with deep regret athaving succumbed so readily to her wishes.
A presentiment of evil he could not control made him walk restlesslyup and down the room.
A timid knock at the door roused him from his painful musings.
"Come in!" he cried quickly.
The door opened, and a tall, remarkably handsome man, dressed in thegarb of a sea-captain, entered.
"What, Falcam, is it you, my boy?" the don cried gladly, wringing theyoung man's hand.
"Yes, senor. I have some papers from Tonza. There has been a slightrising at Diu, but, fortunately, we were able to suppress it in time,"handing the don a sealed packet.
After casting his eyes rapidly over the contents, Don Garcia smiledand turned with a pleased look towards the captain.
"Manuel tells me of your bravery in saving Diu, and asks me to promoteyou. I will do all I can. I am proud to call you friend."
Luiz flushed, and a bashful light filled his eyes; but, ere he couldanswer, the don continued:
"However, you have come in time to be of service to me. My daughter,much against my wishes, has gone on an expedition to the Temple ofSiva. From what I have since heard, I am afraid danger threatens myLianor. Will you help me to rescue her?"
"Will I lay down my life to keep her from harm! Oh, senor, how can youask? Let me start immediately, and ere long I will bring your childback in safety," fervently.
Don Garcia was surprised at the young man's eagerness, but refrainedfrom speaking, only to thank him for his kind offer.
Five minutes later Luiz Falcam, accompanied by a troop of bravesailors, started off towards the Temple of Siva.
As he neared, sounds of strife, mingled with heartrending shrieks,broke upon his ears. Urging his trusty band, he dashed onward until hearrived at the scene of terror.
Startled by the sudden apparition, the Indians lost, for a time, theirself-control, and the sailors found it easy to subdue them.
Luiz had flown at once to Lianor's side, clasping her frail formtightly in his arms, while Panteleone wrenched Savitre from her aunt,as she was about to fling her on the now burning pile.
Even at the same moment, Satzavan, a smile of revengeful triumph onhis face, wound a thick scarf over Konmia's head, and threw her withremorseless force into the flames, leaving her to meet the fatedestined for his sister.
Those Indians who had not been taken had fled; so the band was free towend its way homeward, though nearly half had been killed in thestrife.
Still holding Lianor, now weeping quietly, in his arms, Luiz led theway towards the road, where the palanquin stood, and placing the girlgently in, raised her white hands passionately to his lips.
"Lianor, Lianor, my own darling!" he murmured, gazing into her pallidface with lovelit eyes. "If I had been too late, and found you gone!"
Lianor smiled tremulously through her tears, and a blush mantled toher cheeks.
"You have saved my life. I can never repay you," earnestly.
Panteleone, still pale and anxious, now appeared leading the littlewidow, who seemed overjoyed at her release. She sank down gladlybeside Lianor, and then the palanquin was borne away, guarded by Luizand Panteleone, Satzavan walking behind.
Don Garcia's delight knew no bounds when he saw the processionentering the palace gates, and he ran eagerly to receive his daughter.
"My loved child! How unwise I was to let you go, to send you intodanger," he cried, carrying her in his arms from the palanquin to themarble hall. "If it had not been for our young friend, Falcam, Ishould never have seen you again."
"But, papa, think! If we had not gone, this poor girl would have beenburnt to death," Lianor said, shudderingly, drawing Savitre towardsher.
"Ah, yes. Poor child!" stroking the young widow's glossy black hair."Now tell me all about it." "Not yet, papa. Let us go and arrange ourdresses; mine is torn completely to pieces," laughingly holding up afragment of cashmere, which in the struggle had become torn.
Holding Savitre's hand in hers, Lianor went swiftly to her rooms,where they could bathe their weary limbs in cool water, and changetheir tattered robes.
Dyke Darrel the Railroad Detective; Or, The Crime of the Midnight Express Page 30
