Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 35, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 October 1902 — A SISTER’S VENGEANCE [ARTICLE]

A SISTER’S VENGEANCE

By GEORGE MANVILLE FENN

CHAPTER XVII. —(Continued.) "When are you?” cried the buccaneer, fa a harsh, imperious voice, deep almost as that of a man. There was no reply. “Where are you, I say?” was repeated, imperiously. “Are you ashamed to Vfakr. “No! What do you want?" The buccaneer started in surprise, and faced round. “Are you there? Coward! Traltorl This explains all. This is the meaning of fhs haughty contempt —the miserable coldness. Humphrey Armstrong—you, the brave officer r t--“Woman, are you mad?" “Tee! Mad!” cried the buccaneer, lercely. “I scorn myself for my weak, pitiful fancy for so despicable a creature as you. Bo this la the brave captain, holding nightly meetings with that woman I” “As I would with anyone who could help me to escape from this vile bondage,” said Humphrey. . “Vile! Who has made it viler “Ton," said Humphrey, sternly, “and aa if I were not degraded low enough, you come here to insult me.” There was utter silence for a few moSMBts, and then a quick step forward, •ad before Humphrey Armstrong could realise the fact, Mary Dell had cast herself down, thrown her arms around him, •ad laid her cheek against his feet “Trample on me and crush me, or kill aw,” she moaned. “I am mad. I did ant think it. Humphrey, have pity on as. Ton do not know." He trembled as she spoke, and clinched his fists tightly; but making an effort ever himself, he said, coldly: “Tou have imprisoned the woman’s lover. and she says he is to die. She came there, as she has come many times before, to plan escape with me and the man I persuaded to be the partner of my light For this he is to die.” “It is the men’s will,’’ groaned the prostrate woman. “She has been praying to me to save her lover. I felt I could not ask you; but Ido ask. Spare the poor fellow’s life, and set him free." “Do you wish it?" “Tea.” “He shall be set free. You see, I can he merciful, while you alone are aterif and cold. How long am Ito suffer this?” “How long will you keep me here a prisoner?” “How long will you keep yourself a prisoner, you should say. It is for you to be master here; for me to be your slave. How can I humble myself—degrade myself—more?” Humphrey drew his breath in an angry, Impatient hiss. “for heaven's sake, rise!” be cried. “Ton lower yourself. You humble me. Come, let us talk sensibly. Ido not want to be bard upon you. I will not say bitter things. Give me your hand.” He took the hand nearest him as he bent down, and raised the prostrate woman. “Be seated,” he said, gravely. "Let me talk to you as I would to someone who can listen in an unprejudiced spirit” “Go on. You torture me.” “I must torture you, for I have words to apeak that must be uttered.” He paused for a few moments; and then went on, speaking now quickly and agitatedly, as if the words he uttered gave him pain at the same time that thfif inflicted it upon another. - * “When I was chosen'to command this expediting, agktbst one who had made the name of Commodore Junk a terror all jroond the gulf and amid the isles, I knew not what my fate might be. There were disease and death to combat, and I might never return.” He paused again. Then more hurriedly: “There was one to whom—” “Stop!” came in a quick, angry voice. “I know what you would say; but you do not love another. It is not true." Humphrey Armstrong paused again, and then in a low, husky voice: “I bade farewell to one whom I hoped «a my return to make my wife. It pains me to say these words, but you force them from me.” “Have I not degraded myself enough? Have I not suffered till lam nearly mad that you tell me this?” came in piteous tones. “Was I to blame?" “You? No. It waa our fate. What a triumph was mine, to find that I, the master who had lived so long with my secret known but to poor Bart, was now beaten, humbled—to find that day by day I was less powerful of will that my men were beginning to lose confidence in me, •nd were ready to listen to the plots and plans of one whdtn I had spared, for lla to become a more deadly enemy day by day. Humphrey Armstrong, hare yon no return to offer me for all I have suffered—all I have lost? Tell me this Is false. You do not—you cannot—love this woman.” He was 'Silent. “Is she so beautiful? Is she so true? Will ahe give you wealth and power? Will she lay down her life for you? Would she degrade herself for yon as I have done, and kneel before yon, sgying, ‘Have pity on me—l love you?* ” “Hush, woman!” cried Humphrey, hoarsely; “and for pity’s sake—the pity of which you speak—let us part and meet no more. I cannot. I will not listen to your words. Give me my liberty, and let me go. “To denounce me and mine?” “Am I such a coward, such a wretch, Quit I should do this?” he cried, passionately. “Then stay. Listen: I will give you love such as woman never gave man before. I loved your cousin as a weak, foolish girl loves the first man who whisper* compliments and sings her praises It is to her all new and strange, the realisation of something of which she Lad dreamed. Bnt aa the veil fell from my ayea, and I aaw how cowardly and base Iw waa, that love withered and I thought that love waa dead. But when you came my heart leaped, and I trembled and wondered. t shrank from yon, telling myaeif that it was a momentary fancy; and I lied, for ft was the first strong lore of a lonely Woman thirsting , .

for the sympathy of one who could lova her jn return.” “Oh! hush —hush!” cried Humphrey. “I told yon that h ean never be.” “And she will never love yon as I would—as I do,” came in a low, imploring whisper. “Yes, yea, a thousand times yes!” cried Humphrey. “Even if it were not so, I could not— No, I will not speak. I only any, for pity’s sake let us part.” He leaned forward with outstretched hand, and bending down it touched the cold stone of the altar. He swept his hand to left and right, listening Intently; but there was no sound. “Why do you not speak?’ he said, sternly, as he realised the folly of his first surmise. His words seemed to murmur in the roof and die away, but there was no reply. . ■ CHAPTER XVIH. “Dinny! Yon here?’ “Yes, sor—it’s me.” “Bug at liberty?” “Yes, sir: and I’m to attend on ye as I did avore.” “But ” “Oh, it’s all right, sor! The captain’s a bit busy, and I'm not to be hung at present. I’m to be kept till there’s a big holiday, and be strung up then. It’s the fashion out In this part of the counthry.” “My poor fellow,” cried Humphrey, “I am glad to see you safe again!” “Safe, air; and d’ye call it safe, whin the first time, perhaps, as the shkipper gets in a passion I shall be hung up in all me youth and beauty, like one o’ the big drooping flowers on a tree?” “Nonsense, man!” “Oh, it’s since, sor; and I shall droop, too, wid all my moightl" - _ “No, no,” said Humphrey, as he pondered upon the past, and saw in Dinny’s reprieve a desire to gratify him. “No, my lad, I appealed to the captain to spare your life, and this is the result.” It was not until the next morning that he saw Dinny again. “Is all quiet In the place?’ he asked. “An’ la it quiet? * Why, a tomb in Agypt is a lively plaoe to it. The schooner’s getting rotting for want o’ work, and the men do nothing but schlape, and the captain’s shut all alone whin he isn’t down in the forest saying his prayers.” "Is it the calm that comes before the storm, Dinny?” said Humphrey. “Sure, an’ I don’t know, Bor; but I’ll kape watch if I can, and give ye word if there’s annything wrong; but me poor head’s in a mix, and since I've been out of prison I seem to see nothing but Black Mazzard shwarming all over the place and takin’ me darlin’ away. Did ye intersade wid the captain, sor?” “Dinny, I have not seen him again,” said Humphrey, frowning. “Not seen him, sor! Why, he has been here half a dozen toimes.” “Been here? No.” “Sure and I saw him wid me own ois, aor. Twice he came to the windy there and four toimes along by the big passage. Sure I thought ye’d been colloguing.” “I was not aware of it, said Humphrey, calmly; but his words did not express the feelings that were raging within his breast, and as soon as he was alone he tried to analyze them. •• He must flee. He could do nothing else, and growing momentarily more excited, he tried to force himself to act and think. The old temple. He would flee there for the present, he said. It would remove him from Mary’s pursuit, for she would never dream of his seeking refuge there, and from that place he might perhaps open up communication with Dinny. He had no weapon, so he caught up a large table knife and stuck it in his waistband. It was not much, but something, and at that moment he recalled Mary Dell’s history—how she had told him that they had bsgun with a canoe; through that captured a large boat; that larger boat had enabled them to take a vessel; and so on until the swift schooner had been obtained. In the same way that knife should grow into a sword, he said to himself: and then he felt a sensation of half-blind rage at himself for making the comparison. “What is this hateful unsexed creature to me!” he said, angrily, as he stood thinking as to his next step. All was silent, and the drawing aside of the great curtain proved that Bart-was not on guard, for there was no dull, yellow gleam, of his lantern at the end of the corridor, and once more it came over the prisonex as a feeling of wonder that he should not again and again have taken such steps as these. Almost unguarded, his prison doors and windows always open, and freedom given him to wander about the ruins, and yet like a pinioned bird be had stayed. “They know that the sea before, the forest and mountain behind, are stronger than bolt and bar,” something seemed to whisper to him as he stood listening. “But not to a determined man, ready to do or die!” he cried, as if forced to answer aloud; and he set Ills teeth as he still hesitated and paused before hurrying out of the great dark place. He stopped. What would she do when she found that he had gone? What would ahe say of the man whom, with all her faults, she evidently dearly loved, and wojild sacrifice all to win? Humphrey Armstrong stamped fiercely upon the old atone flooring, making the vaulted root echo as he thrust his fingers into hit ears in a child-like attempt to shut out and deafen himself to the silent whisperings which assailed him. He gave one glance around, trying to pengtrate the darkness, and hesitated no longer, but strode away, passing out of the long corridor out among the ruins, and. well accustomed to the place now, making straight for the pathway which, at Its division, turned toward the old temple. "* All was still; but It seemed lighter away to his left than he conld quite account for, and he was starting again when a distant about as of many voices came through ths silence of the night and died away. ”To start alone on a cruise,” ho said.

| half “What madness!** Then rssionately: “It all Seems madness, and can do nothing but drift With fate.” Fighting down the shrange hesitancy which kept assailing him in various forma, especially now In that of conjuring up difficulties in the way of escape, he plunged sturdily into the forest path, and as fast as the darkness allowed, went on straight for the old temple, a grim place of refuge, with its ghastly relics; of Abel Dell lying, as it were, in state, and the horrible, haunting recollections of the cavern where the wouldbe assassin had met his fate, and the other-had been consigned as to bis tomb. A sudden turn brought him close to the fork, where one path went winding to the left toward the men’s and the captain’s quarters, the other to the temple. As he approached he became conscious of a rustling sqund, as of a wild creature passing through the forest, and he snatched hi* knife from bis waist, ready to strike for life if attacked; but, firmly convinced that there were no denizens of the wild there but such as were more likely to avoid him, he kept on again, to reach the dividing path just as he became aware that it was no creature passing through the wilderness of trees, but someone, like himself, hurrying along the track for the men’s quarters so rapidly that they came in contact, and a hand seized him by the throat, and the point of some weapon seemed to be pressed against his breast, as a voice exclaimed, in a hoarse whisper: “Make the slightest sound, and it is your last.” And as these words seemed to be hissed into his face a shout arose from some distance along the path, and the tramping of feet and rustling of branches intimated that people were rapidly coming in pursuit. “You!” exclaimed Humphrey, hoarsely, as he stood with hand uplifted to strike, but suspended in the act as if every muscle had suddenly become stone. “Humphrey Armstrong!” The hand that had grasped his throat dropped nerveless, and the weapon fell from his breast as the shouting of men increased. “Well,” said Humphrey, bitterly, as if he were forcing himself to say words that he did not mean, “why do.you not strike? I was escaping. Call up your gang of cutthroats and end it all.” “Hush! For heaven’s sake, hush! You will be heard.” “Well," said Humphrey, aloud, and aa if in defiance: but a warm, soft hand was placed over his lips, and its owner whispered: “You were trying to escape, or did you know?” “Know!” said Humphrey, involuntarily speaking lower. “Know what? I waa escaping.” 1 “To the old temple! No, no, they are going there.” “Your hounds!” “Silence, man, for your life!” was whispered close to his ear, and the hand once more sought his lips. “Come on, my lads!” came out of the darkness ahead. “I know where to find him, sniveling yonder among the old images. Come on!” There was a shout, and it seemed as if the leader of a body of men, beneath whose feet the rotten branches that bestrewed the path crackled, had suddenly halted for his companions to close up before saying a few final words ol encouragement.’’ "Now, then,” the voice-said in thick, husky tOT«“V “stand by me, lads. He’s gope on there, and there’s no getting back. One good, bold blow, and we’ll scotch him like a snake. Then fair share and share alike of all there is hidden away, and start straight. He’s no good now, and the others’ll join in when he’s Ready?” “Ay, ay!” came in hoarse tones; and as Humphrey felt himself pressed back Into the pathway by which he had come there was a staggering of feet, and a dull trampling, as about a dozen men passed on. “Now!" as the steps passed on. “Now." was whispered in Humphrey’s ear; “this way.” “Ah!” arose in a fierce growl, as some one of the party who had not gone on with the rest made a dash at and seized the buccaneer captain. “Prisoner! Who Is it? Here, hi, mates. I’ve ” He said no more. Without pause or thought why ho did this—why he sought to save his companion—Humphrey Armstrong made a spring in the direction of the voice, his hands came in contact with a coarse bull throat, and its owner was driven backward, to fall with his head striking a projecting piece of stone, dragging the buccaneer in the fail. (To be continued.)