Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 35, Number 6, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 September 1902 — A SISTER'S VENGEANCE [ARTICLE]

A SISTER'S VENGEANCE

By CEORCE MANVILLE FENN

CHAPTER Xll.—(Continued.) Humphrey could not hear all that was said, but a word fell upon his ear from time to ■ time, and as he pieced these words together it seemed as if the speaker were declaiming against tyranny and oppression, and calling upon his hearers to help him to put an end to the state of affairs existing. • Then came an excited outburst, as the speaker must have turned his face toward the door, for these words came plainly: “The end of it will be that they’ll escape, and bring a man-of-war down upon us, and all through his fooling.” A murmur arose. _____ “He's gone mad, I tell you all; and if you like to choose a captain for yourselves, choose one, and I'll follow him like a man; but it’s time something was done if we want to live." Another burst of murmurs rose here. “He’s mad, I tell you, or he wouldn’t keep him like that. So what’s it to be, my lads, a new captain or the yard-arm?” CHAPTER XIII. The time glided on. and Humphrey always knew when his captor was at sea, for the severity of his imprisonment was then most felt. The lieutenant, Mazzard, was always left in charge of the place, but Bart remained behind by the captain’s orders, and at these times Humphrey was sternly ordered tp keep to his prison. Dinny came and went, but. try him how he would, Humphrey could get nothing from him for days and days. The tide turned at last. “Well, sor,” said Dinny one morning, “I’ve been thinking it over a great dale. I don’t like desarting the captain, who has been like a brother to m«; but there’s Misthress Greenheys, and love’s a wonderful excuse for a many things.” More days passed, and every stroll outside his prison had to be taken by Humphrey with Bart ns close to him as his shadow. Dinny kept away again, and the plan to escape might as well have never been uttered. Bart always went well armed with his prisoner, and seemed unusually suspicious, as if fearing an attempt at escape. Dinny’s little widow came no more, and the hours grew so irksome with the confinement conseqnent upon the captain’s absence that Bart longed for his return. One qiorning Bart’s manner showed that something had occurred. His sour tace wore a smile, and he was evidently greatly relieved of his responsibility as ibe said to the prisoner: "There, yon can go out.” “Has the captain returned?” Bart delivered himself of a short nod. “Tell him I wish to see him. Bid him come here.” ''What! the skipper? You mean, ask Slim if I may take you to him, and he’ll •ce you.” “I said, Tell your skipper to come kere!" said Humphrey, drawing himself «p as if he were on the quarterdeck. “Tell him I wish to see him at once.” Bart drew .« long breath. "Then, smiling grimly, lie slowly left the place: The buccaneer, who looked anxious and dispirited. was listening to some complaint made by his lieutenant, and angry Words were passing which made Bart •s he heard them hasten his steps, ind 3ools sharply from one to the other as he entered. Black Mazznrd scowled, his face being TilUinous without. “Well,” he said aloud, “I’ve warned you!” aud he strode out of the old chamber which formed the captain’s quarters. “You two been quarreling?” said Bart, •harply. “The dog's insolence is worse than ever!” cried the captain, with flashing eyes. “Bart, I don’t want to shed the blood of the man who has been my officer, but ” “Let someone else bleed him,” growled Hart. “Dick would; Dinny would give Anything to do it. We’re 'bout tired of ihim. I should like the job myself.” “Silence!” said the captain, sternly. “No, speak; tell me, what has been going on since I’ve been away?” “Black Mazzard?” The captain nodded. “Half the time he's spent In the south Tuins preaching to the men.” “Preaching?” “Yes, with you for a text. Just in liis old way; but I've been too busy with the prisoner. He wants you!” The buccaneer sprang to his feet. “He wants me—he has sent for me?” be cried, eagerly. “You'll go?” “Yes. Perhaps he has something to •ay in answer to an offer I rnade.” “An offer?” “Yes, Bart, to join us, and be one of — my lieutenants.” - “Join ns. and be your lieutenant?” cried Bart. “Yes. my friend. I like him for the sake of his old generous ways, and I like him for his present manliness.” “You—like him?” “Yes. It is not impossible, is It. that 1 should like to have a friend?” “Friend?” “Yes!” said the captain, sternly; “another friend! Don't stare, man, and think of the past. Mary Del] died, and Abel Dell still lives—Commodore Junk, seeking to take vengeance upon those who cut that young life short.” “Look here,” said Bart, who gasped •s he listened to his companion's wild utterances; “arc you going toad?’ “No, Bart; I am as sane as yon.” “But. you said ” “What I choose to say. man. Let me believe all that if I like. Do you suppaw I do not want some shield against the stings of my own thoughts? I choose to think all that and it shall be so. You •ball think it too. I am Commodore Jnnk. •ad if I wish this man to be my friend, sad he consents, it shall be so!” Humphrey was beginning to feel the thrill of returning strength in his veins, «*d it brought with it his old independence es spirit and the memory that he had bees trained to role. His little, cpiaade with Bart that morning had roused him a little, and prepared him for bis •■counter with the buccaneer captain, ■poo whom he felt he was about tp contor a favor. :

A smile played about his lips as n step drew nearer. The buccaneer entered the chamber. He stood gazing down at the handsome, manly figure of his prisoner. Then a frown puckered his brow, and he said, quietly: “Asleep?” “No,” said Humphrey; “no, my good fellow. I was only thinking.” The buccaneer frowned a little more heavily as he listened to his prisoner’s cool, careless words, and felt the contemptuous tone in which he was addressed. “You sent for me,” he said, harshly, and his voice sounded coarse and rough. “Well,” said Humphrey, with insolent -contempt, “how many ships have you plundered—how many throats have you cut this voyage?" The buccaneer’s eyes seemed to flash as he took a step forward, and made an angry gesture. But he checked himself on the instant, and, with a faint smile, replied: “Captain Armstrong is disposed to be merry. Why have you sent for me?” “Merry!” said Humphrey, still ignoring the question; “one need be, shut up in this tomb. Well, you are back again?” “Yes, 1 am back again,” said the buccaneer, smoothing his brow, and declining to be angry with his prisoner for his insulting way. “It is but the pecking of a prisoned bird,” he said to himself. “And not been caught aud hanged yet? I was in hope that I had seen the last of you.” “1 have heard tell before of prisoners reviling their captors,” said the buccaneer, quietly. “Revile! Well, is it not your portion?” “For treating you with the consideration due to a gentleman?” said the buccaneer. whose features grew more cairn nud wbc.se eyes brightened as if from satisfaction at finding the prisoner so cool and daring, and in how little account he was held. “I have given orders that the prisoner should be treated well. Is there unything more I can do?” The harsh, grating voice had grown soft, deep, rich and mellow, while the dark, flashing eyes seemed to have become dreamy as they rested upon -the prisoner’s handsome, defiant face. “Yes,” said Humphrey, bitterly; “give me my liberty.” •The buccaneer shook his head. “Curse you! No; you profess to serve me —to treat me well—and you keep me here barred up like some wild beast whom yon have caged.” “Barred—caged!” said the buccaneer, raising his eyebrqws. “You have freedom to wander where you will.” “Bah! freedom!” cried Humphrey, springing up. “Curse, you! why dou’t 1 strangle you where you stand?” At that moment there was a rustling among the leaves outside the window, and Humphrey burst into a mocking laugh. “How brave!” he cried. “The buccaneer captain comes to see his unarmed prisoner, and his guards wait outside the doorway, while another party stop by the window, ready to spring in.” The buccaneer's face turned of a deep, dull red —the glow of annoyance, as he strode to the window an 3 exclaimed fiercely; “Why are you here? Go!” “But ” “Go, Bart,” said the buccaneer, more quietly. “Captain Armstrong will nut iujure me.” There was a heavy rustling sound among the leaves and the buccaneer made as if to go'to the great curtain; but he checked himself, turned, and said, smiling sadly: “Captain Armstrong will believe me when 1 tell him that there is no one out there. Come, sir, you have sent for me. You have thought well upon all I said. All this has been so much angry petulance, and you are ready to take me by the hand —to become my friend. No, no; hear me You do not think of wbat your life here may be.” “That of a pirate—a murderer!” cried Humphrey, scornfully. “No,” said the buccaneer, flushing once more. “I am rich. All that can be something of the past. This land is mine, and here we can raise up a nation, for my followers are devoted to me.' Come! are we to be friends?” “Friends!” cried Humphrey, scornfully—“a new nation —your people devotedwhy, man, I sent for you to warn you!” . “You —to warn me?’ “Yes. One of your followers is plotting against jhu. He has been addressing your men; and if you don’t take care you will be elevated over your people in a way more lofty than pleasant to the king of a new nation.” “I understand your sneers, sir,” sajd j the buccaneer, quietly; and there was I more sadness than anger in his tone, j “They are unworthy of the brave man I who has warm'd me of a coming danger, , | and they are from your lips, sir, not from j the heart of the grave adversary I have > vowed to make my friend.” I Humphrey winced, for the calm, re- ! proaebful tone roused him, and he stood I there frowning as the buccaneer went ! on. “As to the plotting agaipst nre, 1 ans al-ways-prepared for that. A man in my position makes many enemies. Even you have yours.” “Y>s—you,” cried Humphrey. “No; lam a friend. There, I thank you for your warning. It is a proof, though 1 yeti do not know it, that the gap between |us grows less. Some day. Captain Armstrong, you will take my hand. Wo shall be friends.” Humphrey remained silent as the buccaneer left the chamber, and, once more alone, the prisoner asked himself if this was true—that he had really bidden fare^ [ well to civilisation forever, and this was to be bis home, this Strange compound of j savage fierceness and gentle friendliuess his companion to the end? CHAPTER XIV. Humphrey Armstrong walked on blindly further and further into the forest, for he was moved more deeply than ever he bad been moved before. The presence of this man was hateful to him, and yet he seemed to possess an influence rhat was inexplicable; and his soft, deep tones rang in his ears now he was away. “Good heavens!" he cried, “what an

end to an officer’s career—the lieutenant M a wreached pirate king! New nation! Bah! what madness!” He sat down with his head resting upon his hand, gazing back along the narrow path, when, to his horror, just coming into view, he saw the figure of the buccaneer appoaching_ with head bent and arms crossed over Bis chest, evidently deep in thought. Humphrey started up and backed away round a curve before turning, and-walked - swiftly along the path, looking eagerly for a track by which he could avoid another encounter, when for the first time he became aware of the fact that he was i nthe way leading to an old temple which bad (men formed into a mausoleum, and, unless he should be able to find another path, hound for the ancient structure. He climbed up the doorway and looked back. All was silent and dim as he stooped and entered, stepping cantionsly on, nnd then, as soon as well sheltered, turning to gaze back. Just then the buccaneer came into sight and walked slowly toward the old temple. There was no time for further hesitation. He must either boldly meet the buccaneer or hide, He chose the latter course, stepping cautiously into one of the recesses behind a sitting figure, where he could stand in complete darkness and wait till the buccaneer had gone. The latter entered the next moment, and Humphrey felt half mad with himself at his spy-like conduct, for as he saw dimly the figure enter, he heard a low, piteous moan, and saw him throw himself upon his knees beside a draped coffin, his hands clasped, and his frame bending with emotion, as in a broken voice he prayed aloud. His words were incoherent, and but few of the utterances reached the listening man’s ears, as he bit his lips with anger, and then listened with wonder at what seemed a strange revelation of character. “Oh, give me strength!” he murmured. “I swore revenge —on all —for the wrongs —for tire-death —loved —strength to fight down this weakness—to be—self—for strength—for strength—to live —revenge — death.” The last word of these agonized utterances was still quivering upon the air as if it had been torn from the speaker's breast, when the dimly seen doorway was suddenly darkened and there was a quick movement. \ Humphrey Armstrong’s position was one which enabled him, faint as was the light, to see everything—the draped coffin, the kneeling figure bent over it, and a great crouching form stealing softly behind, as if gathering for a spring. There was the dull gleam of steel uplifted by the figure bending over the buccaneer. Assassination, without douljt. The moment of peril had come, lightly as it had been treated, and, stirred to the heart by the treachery and horror of the deed intended, Humphrey sprang from his»place of concealment, struck the buccaneer’s assailant full in the chest, and they rolled over together'on the temple floord. “Quick, lads, help!” shouted the man whom Humphrey had seized, two companions rushed in for a general melee to ensue at terrible disadvantage, for the assailants were armed with knives and those they assailed defenseless as to weapons. Humphrey knew this to his cost in the quick struggle which ensued. He had writht-d round as he struggled with the would-be murderer, and contrived to get uppermost, when a keen sense of pain passing through one of his arms, made Mm loosen his hold for a moment, end the next he was dashed back. He sprang up, tbqugh, to seize his assailant, uti/ng by the pain into a fit of savage as he clasped an enemy, be found that it was not his first antagonist, but a lesser man, with whom he closed fiercely just as the fellow was striving to get out of the doorway- a purpose he effected, dragging Humphrey with him. The passage was darker than the inner temple, where hoarse panting and the sounds of contention were still going on, oaths, cusses and commands uttered in a savage voice to “Give it him now!” — “Now strike, you fool!”—“Curse him, he’s like an epl!”—and the like came confusedly through the doorway, as, smarting with pain and grinding his teeth with rage, Humphrey struggled on in the passage, savagely determined to retain this one a prisoner, as he fought to get the mastery of the knife. How it ill occurred was more than he could afterward clearly arrange in his own mind; what he could recall was that the pain weakened him, and the man with whom he struggled wrenched his left arm free, snatched the knife he held from his right hand, and would have plunged it into Humphrey’s breast had not the latter struck him a sharp blow upward in the face so vigorously that the knife fell tinkling on the ground, aud the struggle w*s resumed upon more equal terms. It_ was a matter of less than a minute, during which Humphrey fought less for life than to master his assailant and keep him a prisoner. They had been down twice, tripping the stonestrewn pavement, and once Humphrey had been, fenced against the wall, but by a sadden spring Tie had driven his oppo-" nent backward, and they were struggling in the middle of the opening, when a wild shriek rank out from the inner temple—a erf which seemed to curdle the young officer’s blood—and this was followed by a .rush of someone escaping. His retreat was only witnessed by one, for the struggle was continued on the floor. The two adversaries, locked in a tight embrace, strove to reach their feet, and, panting and weak, Humphrey had nearly succeed in so doing, when his foe forced him backward, and he fell to cling to the ragged stonework. For as he was driven back the flooring seemed to trumble away beneath hit feet; there was a terrible jerk, and he found himself hanging by his bands, bis enemy clinging to him still, and the weight upon his muscles seeming as if It would tear them apart. In the hurry and excitcnu-nt Humphrey conld hardly comprehend bis position for the moment. The next he understood it too well, for the stone which had given way fell with a hideous, echoing noise, which came from a terrible distance below. Almost in total darkness, his hands cramped into the interval between two masses of broken stone which formed part of the debris of the roof above, hanging over a hideous gulf at the fall stretch of his arms, and with his adversary’s bands fixed talon-like in garb and dress as he strove to clamber up him to the floor above. At every throe, as the man strove to

grip Hmapßrey with his knees tp4 climb up, some fragment of stone rushed down, to fall far beneath, splashing and echo* ing with a repetition of sounds that robbed Mm es sneb strength as remained to him, and a dreamy sensation came on apace. “It is the end,” thought Humphrey, fOr his fingers felt as if they were yielding, and in another minute he knew that he must fall, when the grip upon blip increased, and the man who clung utteved a hoarse yell for help. “Quick!” he shrieked. = ‘l’m letting go!” But at that Instant something dark seemed to come between him and the gleaming wet stone away above him in the roof, and then there was quite an avalanche of small stones gliding by. (To be continued.)