"No, no, man; make for the forest," whispered Humphrey, just at
daybreak, as 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 so much as grow a
cabbage, where there's no wather and no company but monkeys and the
shpotted tigers. Lave it to me, sor, and I'll tak' ye to a place where
ye can lay shnug in hiding, and where maybe I can get spache of the
darling as the bastes freckened away."
"Where shall you go, then? Why not to that old temple where Mazzard
made 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 humour
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 such a chaos, and so changed by the terrific force of the
explosion that Humphrey had felt as if he were journeying along quite a
new portion of the forest outskirts, till, as he 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 place of hiding, and you've brought me right into the
lion's den."
"Well, sor, and a moighty 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
really are 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. "Aren'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 is 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 isn't a sound."
As he spoke, there was a peculiar cry, and a gorgeously-plumaged bird
flitted into sight, and perched on a piece of stone in the sunny opening
of the tunnel, where its scarlet breast and dazzling golden-green
plumage glittered in the sun.
"Sure and ye're a purty fowl, and I'm much obliged to ye for the
information," said Dinny, as the bird erected its brilliant crest,
stared wildly, and then flew off with its long green tail-feathers
streaming out behind. "He says there's nobody about, sor, or he
wouldn't be here. Come along."
It seemed like a dream to Humphrey after his sleepless night, to find
himself once more in the gloomy corridor with the faint light streaming
in at the side-openings, instead of in a boat, dancing over the blue
waters and leaving the buccaneer's nest behind. But it was the bare
reality, as Dinny went forward, drew the great curtain aside, and he
passed in and on from behind the great idol to throw himself, worn-out
and exhausted, upon his couch of skins.
"Sure and I wouldn't trate it like that, sor," cried Dinny, cheerfully.
"We have eshcaped, sor, though we haven't got away, and been obliged to
come back again."
"Don't talk folly, man."
"An' is it folly ye call it! Sure an' we have eshcaped, or else why are
they all in purshuit of us? We've got away, and they fale it, and all
that's happened is that we did rache the boat, but had to come back here
for a rest till we were riddy to go on. Sure, sor, ye're hungry. Ate
some of the tortillas and drink some of the wine, and thin, if ye won't
think it presumption, I'll say--afther you."
"Eat and drink, man. You must be faint. I have no appetite."
"Ah!" ejaculated Dinny, after a pause of about a quarter of an hour,
which he had bravely employed, "there's nothing like food and dhrink, if
it's only potaties and butthermilk. Sure I'm ready for annything now,
and so will ye be, sor, as soon as the wine begins to work."
"Dinny, I'm ready for anything, now; but we cannot stay here."
"Git up, sor, if ye wouldn't moind," said Dinny.
Humphrey obeyed dejectedly as the man advanced.
"Sure, sor, and it's a wondherful owld place this, and there must have
been some strange games carried on. Now, sor, in all the months ye've
been here, did ye iver look under the bed?"
"Under the bed, man?" cried Humphrey. "Why, it is a huge block of
stone."
"Is it, now, sor? Sure and didn't I help fit up the place for ye when
ye first came, an' by the captain's orders? Sure and I know all about
it. `Dinny, me boy,' me mother used to say to me, `ye haven't got a
watch and ye've got no money, but ye may have both some day, so beware
of thayves and robbers; and whiniver ye go to slape in a sthrange place,
be sure ye look under the bed.' An' yer mother niver gave you that
advice, sor?"
He walked to the couch and threw up the skins which covered it,
revealing what seemed to be a low, square bench of stone, whose top was
one enormous slab.
"Now, sor," said Dinny, "would ye moind thrying to lift that?"
Humphrey stepped quickly to his side, bent down, seized the projecting
slab, tried to raise it, and then straightened himself and shook his
head.
"A dozen men could not raise it, Dinny," he said.
"No, sor, but a Kelly can. Look here."
He bent down, placed his shoulder to one corner, gave a thrust, and the
whole top glided round as if on a pivot, and revealed an opening dimly
lit apparently from below.
"There, sor," he said, "I dishcovered that by accident when I was here
alone wan day. I pushed a big stone against that corner and it gave
way, and when I pushed the whole place opened, and down there's as good
a hiding-place as a man need have."
"Dinny," cried Humphrey, excitedly, "and doesn't the captain know of
this?"
"Sure and I think the last man who knew of it died before the flood,
sor, and it hasn't been opened since."
"And these rough stairs--where do they lead?"
"Down into the cabin, sor, where there's a little door out into the
forest. Sure and the artful baste who made it little thought he was
going to find us as purty a hiding-place as was ever made. There it is,
sor, all ready for us if we hear annyone coming. If we do, down we go
and twirl the lid of the pot back over our heads, and then we can either
go or shtay."
"Can you move the cover when you are down?"
"Aisily, sor. I've thried it. Now, then, what do ye say to that?"
Humphrey's answer was to hold out his hand and wring that of his
companion.
There was an ample supply of food in the place for a week, and water and
wine. 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 sprang up.
His exclamation and the noise he made brought Humphrey from his couch,
alert, and ready for any struggle.
"What is it?" he said.
"Sure, sor, something freckened me. A mouse, I think."
"Dinny!" came in a reproachful voice from above.
"Mistress Greenheys!" cried Humphrey. "You there?"
"Yes. I cam' to try and learn tidings of you. I did not know you were
both prisoners."
"Sure an' we're not, darlin'," said Dinny. "We only tuk refuge here, so
as to be near you. An' where have you been?"
"I crept back to my place," said the woman, "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 again as soon as ye can wid something to
ate, for we shall soon be starved."
"Yes, Dinny; I'll come again to-night."
"There's a darlin' for ye, sor. But tell us. What are they doing?"
"Searching for you far and wide; and the captain is furious. He says he
will have you found."
"And ye've been quite well, darlin'?"
"Yes, Dinny. No, Dinny. I've been fretting to death to know what had
become of you."
"Sure and I've been quite right, only I wanted to know about you.
Nobody's middled wid ye, then?"
"No, Dinny--not yet."
"Arrah, shpake out now, and say what ye mane wid your `not yet,'" cried
Dinny, angrily.
"Black Mazzard."
"Well, he's shut up."
"He escaped the same time that you did."
"Eshcaped! Holy Moses!"
"That wretch free!" cried Humphrey.
"Yes, sir."
"Where is he?"
"No one knows, sir; but they have parties out searching for him and for
you."
"Oh! murther! murther!" groaned Dinny. "My heart's bruk entirely.
What'll I do at all? Shtop, darlin'; ye must come here."
"Stop here, Dinny! Oh, no, I couldn't!" said the woman, piteously.
"Sure no, and ye couldn't," said Dinny. "It wouldn't be dacent,
darlin', for ye've got a characther to lose. Captain, dear, what'll I
do?"
"We must wait, Dinny, and try to-night if we cannot find a boat."
"And lave that poor darlin' to be freckened to death by that great black
baste? Oh, captain, dear, I'll have to go wid her and purtect her; and
if I'm hung for it, why, I can't help it. I should have behaved like a
man."
"Wait, Dinny," said the woman, cheerily. "You keep in hiding for a day
or two, dear. If Black Mazzard does come and try to get me away, I can
but die."
"Sure, an' what good'll that do me?" cried Dinny. "D'ye want to make me
a widow, too!"
"Hush! You're talking too loudly," whispered the woman. "Good-bye!
Next time I come I'll bring food. Perhaps good news."
"No, no; don't go yet, darlin'," cried Dinny. "She's gone. Oh,
murther, sor! What'll I do! Can't ye put me out of me misery at
wanst?"
Dinny calmed down at last, and Humphrey resumed his place upon the
couch, which was arranged so that at any moment they might secure their
retreat. But the night had not passed before the faithful little woman
was back again with such provisions as she could bring and lower down to
them, for she would not hear of Dinny coming out, threatening to keep
away if he ran any risk.
This went on for two nights, during which time they had no alarm. Not a
soul beside approached the place; and the same report 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 sot 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
annywhere, for thick forest worked together like a powerful big hurdle
that's all solid, and beyant that's mountains--and burning mountains--
and the divil knows what! 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 wanting, the prisoners were in despair, and
they had both crept out again and again to the end of the corridor and
listened to try and make out something; but all outside was solemnly
still, and the place might have been once more the abode of death, had
not a couple of sentries always been visible keeping watch, so that it
was impossible to stir.
"I can't shtand this anny longer, sor," said Dinny one evening. "I'm
going to see if I can't find her, sor. I must have news of the darlin',
or I shall die!"
"It's madness, Dinny!" said Humphrey, excitedly.
"Sure, and I know it is, sor. I am mad."
"But you will injure her and yourself too."
"I can't help it, sor. I've a faling upon me that Black Mazzard has got
her again, and I'm going to fetch her away."
"You are going to your death; and it will be through me, man!"
"Make your moind aisy, sor, about that. It would be all the same if ye
were not here. Sure, and I'd be a poor sort of a boy if I towld a woman
I loved her, and thin, when the darlin' was in difficulties, jist sat
down quietly here, and left her in the lurch."
"She would not have you stir, Dinny, if she knew."
"What of that, sor! Let 'em hang me if they catch me; and if they do,
sor, Oi'll doie like a Kelly. And not a word will I shpake of where ye
are; and I wish ye safe away to your swateheart--for ye've got wan, I'm
thinking, or ye wouldn't be so aiger to get away."
"Well, promise me this, Dinny--you'll wait a few hours and see if we
have news."
"Faix, and for your sake, sor, I'll do that same," said Dinny.
He went to the window-opening and leaned there, listening; while
Humphrey seated himself upon the edge of the couch to watch the opening
above his head, in the expectancy that Mistress Greenheys might arrive
and put an end to the terrible suspense as to her silence.
The still, sultry heat was terrible, not a leaf moved outside, and the
darkness came on more obscure than usual; for as Humphrey looked out of
the window from time to time, to gaze along the forest arcade, there was
not a firefly visible, and the heavy, oppressive state of the air seamed
to announce a coming storm.
Dinny's figure had long been invisible, but he made his presence known
by crooning over snatches of the most depressing minor-keyed Irish
melody he could recall; but after a time that ceased, and the silence
grew heavy as the heat.
"How long have I been asleep?" he muttered, starting up and listening.
"Dinny!"
No answer.
"Dinny! Hist! Are you asleep?"
He dare 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. Hah! 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. You have proved it yourself, and, weary with
your folly, you have returned."
"Returned!" cried Humphrey, fiercely; "yes, but only to be 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 as the
contending pair swayed here and there--the 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 here and there, with the
thick rugs kicked on one side, 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 he 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 at 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, enlightened 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!"