Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 35, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 October 1902 — A SISTER’S VENGEANCE [ARTICLE]

A SISTER’S VENGEANCE

By GEORGE MANVILLE FENN

CHAPTER XV.—tGoatiaoed.) "Do— do you think we can escape!" •aid the woman, panting with fear. “An’ is It eshcape, whin the boat's waitlag, and every thing riddy?” said Dinny, •cornfully. “D’ye hear her, sor? What • woman it is!” They pressed on, and at the end of what assmed to be an interminably long time, Humphrey whispered: “Are we near the sea?" "Close to it now, sor. If it whs Oirelaad ye'd hear the bating of the waves •yon the shore; but they're too hot rnd wake in this counthry to do more than give • bit of a lap on the sands.” Another weary length of time passed, and still the seashore was not reached, bat they were evidently near it now, for the dull murmur of the billows in the sheltered gulf was plainly to be heard; and Mistress Greenheys, who, in spite of bar bravery and decision, had begun to nttef a low, hysterical sob from time to time and hang more heavily upon her companions’ arms, took courage at the thought of the safety the sea offered, and pressed sturdily forward for another few hundred yards and then stopped short. “What is it, darliu’?” whispered Din- - «y- ---“ Voices she replied softly. “Yea; our own,” said Dinny. “There] can't be anny others here.” “I am sure I heard talking,” said Humphrey; but all was still now, and feeling satisfied at last that it was the murmur of the waves, they crept on in utter silence, and were about to leave the shelter of the paths by which they had come and for the open sand when Dinny checked his companions, and they all stood listening, for a voice that was familiar said: “The skipper’s full of fancies. He hasn't been right since this captain was made a prisoner, and he has been worse since the other prisoners escaped.” “Other prisoners! What prisoners?” thought Humphrey. “You hold your tongue!” growled the familiar voice of Bart. “Do you want to scare them off?” “Scare whom off?” “Those who try to escape. Silence!” Mistress Greenheys reeled up against Humphrey and would have fallen but for his strong arm. which encircled her. Dinny did not speak till they had reached the shelter of some trees. “Look at that, now!” he whispered out of the black darlyjess. “Have ye got ti»e darling safe?” "Yes. safe enough; but what does this mean?" _ ' “Mane, sor? Sure, and it’s Bart yander wid two min.” “Take us down to the sea by some other path.” “Shurc. an’ don’t I tell ye there Is no other path, sor? It’s the only way. Murther. look at that!" For at that moment a light flashed out and shimmered on the sea." sunk, rose, and became brilliant, shining forth so that they could see the three men down upon the shore had lighted a pile of some Inflammable material, beyond which, floating easily upon the surface of the sea and apparently close inshore, was a boat —the boat that was to bear them safety away. ———•— They were sheltered by the trees, and besides, too far off to be seen by the men, whose acts, however, were plain enough to them, as one of them was seen to wade out to the boat, get hold of her mooring Tope, and drag her ashore. “The murtherin’ villains!” muttered Dinny. “They’ve takin’ out the slitores. Look at that now! There’s the bar’l o’ wather asd the bishkit, and now there’s tse sail. What’ll Ido intoirely? My heart's bruk wid’ em.” “Hush, my lad! You’ll be heard,” whispered Humphrey. He gave an angry stamp, for in her agony of dread Mistress Greenheys gave herself a wrest from his arm, and hurrled back. “What’s that?” whispered Dinny. “Mistress Greenheys.” “What? Gene back, sir? darliu’. Stop!" If the woman heard liis words they only added to her alarm, for she hurried on, apparently as well acquainted with the way back as Dinny, who immediately started in pursuit. “What are you going to do?’ whispered Humphrey. “Do, sor? Go afther her.” “No, no: we must escape now we’ve got so far.” “Share an’ we will, sor; but to go forward’s to go into prison for you and to be dancing on nothiug for me. Come on, oor. Let's catch up to me poor freckoned darlin’, and then the_j»nniG ’’ They hurried back in pursuit of their companion, but fear had made her fleet of foot, and in spite of their efforts they did not overtake her. “She’ll have gone back to her quarters,” said Dinny, dismally. “Shall we go back to ours?” “Nor* cried Humphrey, imperiously, “Good heavens, man! our absence has boen found out before now. Let’s take to the woods or hide in one of the ruins till we can get away.” “Sure an’ ye’re roight, sor. They've been afther ye, av coorsc, and I’ve been missed and can't show meself now widout being thrated as a thraitor. Will ye thrust to me, and I’ll find a place?” "Trust you?—yes,” said Humphrey; “but what do you propose doing?’ “Doing, sor? Holding till we can fird a ehansh of getting sway.” .“Where will you hide?’ “Ye said ye’d thrust me, sor,” whispered Dinny. “Come on.” CHAPTER XVI. ' "No, no, man; make for the forest,” whispered Humphrey, just at daybreak, us Dinny began to take advantage of the coming light to seek a safe place of concealment. “What for, sor? To get buried in threes that don’t,oo much as grow cabbage, where there’s no wather and no company bat monkeys and the ah potted tigers? Lave It to me, sor, and I’ll tak* ye to a place where ye can lay shnug in biding, and where may be I can get apache of the darling as the bastea freck--Whec//shall you go, thou? *Why not

to that old temple where Mnzzard updo his attempt to kill the captain?’ “There, sor! Why, the captain would find us directly. You lave it to me. Humphrey would have taken to the forest without hesitation, but, worn out and suffering keenly from disappointment, he was in no humor to oppose, and, signifying his willingness, he followed the Irishman by devious ways in and out of the ruins for some time, till Dinny crouched down, and motioned to Humphrey to do the same. The place was in such a chnos and so changed by the terrific force of the explosion that Humphrey had felt as If lie were journeying along quite a new portion of the forest outskirts, till, as It® obeyed his companion and they crouched down among some dense herbage, he stared with astonishment at the sight before him, a couple of hundred yards away. For there, beyond one of the piles of crumbling ruins, was a perfectly familiar pathway, out of which he saw step into the broad sunshine the picturesque figure of the buccaneer captain, who strode toward a group of waiting men. A discussion seemed to take place, there were some sharp orders, and then the whole party disappeared. “Why, Dinny, man, are you mad?’ whispered Humphrey. “I trusted to you to take me to some plpce of hiding, and you’ve brought me right into the lion’s den.” “Well, sor, and a mighty purty place, too, so long as the lion’s not at home. Sure and ye just saw him go out.” £ “But, Dinny—” “Whisht! Don’t spake so loud, sor. Sure, now, if a cannon ball made a hole in the side of a ship, isn’t that the safest place to put your head so as not to be, hurt. They niver hit the same place twice." “Then your hiding place is my old lodging—my prison?” “Av coorse it is! The skipper has been there to mak’ sure that ye are really gone; and now he knows, he’ll say to himself that this is the last place ye’d go and hide in; and troth, he’s quite roight, isn’t he?” Humphrey hesitated for a few moments, and then, feeling how true the man’s words were, he gave way. “Sure, sor, and it’s all roight,” whispered Dinny. “Ar’n’t I thrying to keep my head out of a noose, and d’ye think I’d be for coming here if it wasn’t the safest place? Come along; sure, it’s a lion’s den, as ye call it, and the best spot I know.” He whispered to Humphrey to follow cautiously, and crept on all-fours among the dense growth, and in and out among the loose stones at the very edge of the forest, till the tunnel-like pathway was reached in safety, when, after crawling a few yards out of the blinding sunshine into the shadowy gloom, Dinny rose to his feet. “There, sor," he said, “we can walk like Christians now, and not like animal bastes.” There was an ample supply of food in the place for a week, and water. Dinny’s ideas respecting their safety seemed to be quite correct, for though voices were heard at a distance, no one approached the place. They had the hidden subterranean tomb-like chamber into which they could retreat; and on the second night, while Dinny was watching and Humphrey, utterly worn out, was sleeping feverishly and trying to forget the troubles and disappointments of his failure, there was a faint rustling noise heard, and directly after his name was whispered softly from above. “Murther!” cried Dinny, unable to contain himself as he spraug up. His exclamation and the noise he made brought Humphrey from his couch, alert, and ready for any struggle. “What Is it?” he said. “Dinny!” came in a voice from above. “Mistress Greenheys!” cried Humphrey. “Y'ou there?” “Yes. I came to try and learn tidings of you. I did not know you were both prisoners.” "Sure an’ we’re not. darlin’,” said Dinnl. “We only tuk refuge here, so to be near you; An’ where have you been?” “I crept back to my place,” said the womau, “and reached it without having been missed.” “Then ye’re quite free to come and go?” “Yes —quite.” “Erin-go-bragh!” cried Dinny, excitedly. “Then what ye’ve got to do, darling, is to go back and come ageu as soon as ye can wid something to ate, for we shall soon be starved.” “Yes, Dinny;l’ll come again to-night.” The night had not passed before the faithful little woman was back again with such provisions us she could bring and lower down to them. This went on for two nights, duriug which time they had no alarm. Not a soul beside approached the place; and the same rejwrt was brought them that their hiding place baffled all, but the captain was fiercely determined that the prisoners should be found. “Then why not try to escape inland, Dinny?’ said Humphrey, at last. “Surely, it cannot be impossible.” “Haven’t we all thried It again and again wid the captain, sor?” said Dinny, in remonstrance. “He set us all to work so as to make sure that we couldn’t be attacked from the land, and ye can’t get in a mile anny where, fpr thick forest worked together like a powerful big hurdle that’s all solid, and beyant that’s mountains. Sure, and ye can’t get that way at all widout an army of wood cutters, and a life a hundred years long!” A week went by, food was wahting. the prisoners were in despa’', and they had both crept out again and ngaiu to the eud of the corridor, and listened to try and make out something; but ail outside was solemnly still, and the place might hare been once more the abode of deafli, had not a couple of sentries always been visible keeping watch, so that it was impassible to stir. Dinny went to the window opening and leaned there, while Humphrey seated himself upon the edge of the couch to watch the opening above his head, in expectation that Mistress Greenheys might arrive and put an end to the terrific suspense as to her silence. The still, sultry heat was terrible, not

a leaf moved outside, and the darkneSs came dn more obscure than usual; for as Humphrey looked out of the window from time do time, to gaze along'the forest arcade, there was not a fire-fly risible, and the heavy, oppressive state of the air seemed to announce a coming storm. Dinny’s figure had long been visible, but he made his presence known by crooning over snatches of the most depressing minor-keyed Irish melody he could recall; bnt after a time that ceased, and the silence grew heavy as the best. -—- “How long have I been asleep?” he mattered, starting np and listening. “Dinny!” No answer. “Dinny! Hist! Are you asleep?" He dared call no louder, but rose from the couch. “Dennis Kelly, the traitor, has gone. Humphrey Armstrong!” cried a hoarse voice, and he felt himself driven back into the great -tomb-like place. “Commodore Junk!” cried Humphrey in his surprise. “Yes. Commodore Junk., Ha! I have you. My prisoner once again!” “Your prisoner? No, not If I die for it!" cried Humphrey, passionately; and he struggled *to free himself from the tightening grasp. “I tell you It is madness. Y’ou have proved it yourself, and. weary with your folly, you have returned.” “Returned!” cried Humphrey, fiercely; “yes, but only to he free.” The captain tried to utter some angry ‘appeal, but a fierce struggle had commenced, and the great stony place seemed to be full of whispers, of hoarse sighs, the catching of breath, harsh expirations os thei contending pair swayed here and there=rithe captain, lithe and active as a panther, baffling again and again Humphrey’s superior weight and strength. Twice over the latter tripped and nearly fell, but he recovered himself and struggled on, seeking to wind his arms round the buccaneer and lift and throw him with a west-country wrestling trick. But try how he would his adversary seemed to twist like an eel and recover himself, till suddenly, as they swayed there was a low, jangling noise as a sword escaped from its scabbard and fell upon the stony floor. It was a trifling incident, but it attracted the buccaneer’s attention for a moment —just long enough to put him off his guard—the result being that be was thrown heavily, Humphrey planting his knee upon his breast, and as he thrust out a hand it encountered the fallen sword, which he snatched up with a shout of triumph, shortened in his hand, and held to the buccaneer’s throat. “Now,” he cried, fiercely, “I have the upper hand, my lad. You are my prisoner. Make but one sound, and it is your last.” The buccaneer uttered a low moan, and snatched fit the blade, but the intervening hand was thrust away, and the point pressed upon the heaving flesh. “Do you give in?” “No!” cried the buccaneer, fiercely. “Strike, Humphrey Armstrong; strike, and end my miserable life! Then go and say, I have slain the woman who loved me with all her heart!” “What!” cried Humphrey, starting back, as the sword fell from his nerveless hand, and a flash, as of a revelation, enlightening him as to the meaning of much that had before seemed strange. “Well, why do you not strike? Did I not speak plainly? I am Mary Dell!” . *■«. CHAPTER XVII. “Yes; who called?” cried Humphrey, starting up. "Hist! Be careful! It is me!” Humphrey sprang from his couch and was about to speak, when the curtain was roughly thrown aside, and Bart entered quickly. “What’s the matter?” he said, roughly. “Matter!” said Humphrey. “I—l must have been dreaming.” Bart looked at him sourly, and then gave a suspicious look round. “What time is it?” said Humphrey, hastily. “Time! What do we know about time here? ’Bout four bells.” Humphrey gazed excitedly at the dimly seen figure, visible by the faint light which streamed in beside the curtain, and then ns the curtain fell he advanced slowly till he could peer through and see that Bart had gone to the far end of the corridor, where he had a lantern set in a stone recess, beside wtyieh he ensconced himself, and played sentry once again. “Escape is impossible unless I choose the gates of death,” muttered Humphrey, as he stole back cautiously, afid then in a said: “Hist! Did any one call?” “Yes. Is it safe to whisper?” came from above. “Mistress Greenheys!” cried Humphrey, joyfully. “Speak low, don’t whisper; it penetrates too far. How I have longed to hear from you!” “Oh, sir, pray, pray, save him!” “Dinny?’ said Humphrey, starting. “Yes. He is to be killed, and it was for your sake he ran that risk. Pray, try and save him.” “What can I do?” » “Implore the captain. He may listen to you. I cannot bear it, sir; it makes me feel half mad!” “Have you seen him?’ “Seen him? No, sir. He’s kept closely shut up iu one of the stone chambers by the captain’s quarters, aud two men watch him uight and day.” “As I am watched,” said Humphrey, bitterly. “Yes, sir; but you have not been untrue to your captain. You are not sentenced to death, and every man eager to see you hung. Sly poor Dennis! It Is my fault, too. Why did we ever meet?” Humphrey was silent. “Y'ou will see the captain, sir, and ask him to spare his life?” Humphrey ground his teeth. To ask Dinpy’s life was to ask a favor of Mary Dell, and to place himself under greater obligations still. “That Is not all the trouble." said the woman, who was evidently sobbing bitterly. “That wretch Mazznrd is still at liberty.” “Not escaped!” cried Humphrey. “Not escaped!— not taken!” said the woman. “He Is in hiding about the place, and I have seen him.” She seemed to shudder, and her sobs grew more frequent. She uttered a low cry; and as Humphrey listened he heard low, quick talking. a fkint rustling noise overhead, and then the sound of voices died away. “Discoveredt” said Humphrey, bitterly. “Fate is working against me now.” A quarter of an hour's silence ensued, and conscious that at any moment ha

might be watched, aa fair as ts t dee* gloom would allow, Humphrey seated himself upon the edge <jf the old stone altar, and folded his aims, to see what would be the next buffet of fate he was to bear. There was the sound of a challenge at the end of the corridor, and a quick reply, followed by an angry muttering, and Humphrey laughed mockingly. “Master and dog!” he said, bitterly. "Mistress and dog, I ought to say.” He drew himself up, for he heard a the passage. The curtain was snatched aside, and the buccaneer took a dozen strides into the place and stopped, looking around. (To be continued.)