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[Illustration: IN RANGOON.]
JACK HAYDON'S
QUEST
BY
JOHN FINNEMORE
_CONTAINING EIGHT FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS_
_IN COLOUR FROM DRAWINGS BY J. JELLICOE_
PHILADELPHIA
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
LONDON: ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK
1907
* * * * *
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
I. THE ATTACK ON THE HEATH,
II. A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE,
III. THE BIG RUBY,
IV. BUCK SEES LIGHT,
V. THE SPY,
VI. IN RANGOON,
VII. UP THE RIVER,
VIII. THE ATTACK ON THE SAMPAN,
IX. A CLOSE CALL,
X. THE DACOITS,
XI. BELEAGUERED,
XII. A FIGHT FOR LIFE,
XIII. A CUNNING TRICK,
XIV. JACK'S PLAN,
XV. IN THE JUNGLE,
XVI. THE BRIDGE AND THE FORD,
XVII. A FRIGHTFUL PERIL,
XVIII. THE COMBAT IN THE RIVER,
XIX. THE VILLAGE FESTIVAL,
XX. THE DANCING GIRL,
XXI. JACK FINDS HIMSELF IN BAD HANDS,
XXII. THE TWO ELEPHANTS,
XXIII. THE PANTHAY WOOD-CUTTERS,
XXIV. AN UNWELCOME MEETING,
XXV. THE CAVE IN THE RAVINE,
XXVI. THE RESOLVE OF BUCK AND JIM,
XXVII. THE FIGHT IN THE TUNNEL,
XXVIII. THE RUSE OF SAYA CHONE,
XXIX. THE TORTURE BY FIRE,
XXX. THE STRONGHOLD OF THE RUBY KING,
XXXI. FATHER AND SON,
XXXII. THE HORROR IN THE SWAMP,
XXXIII. THE POTHOODAW,
XXXIV. THE HIDING-PLACE AND THE THIEF,
XXXV. THE FLIGHT FROM THE VALLEY,
XXXVI. PENNED IN THE PASS,
XXXVII. HOW THEY MADE A ROPE,
XXXVIII. IN THE DESERTED CITY,
XXXIX. THE SECRET CHAMBER,
XL. THE BATTLE ON THE STAIRS,
XLI. THE SECRET PASSAGE,
XLII. IN THE COURTYARD,
XLIII. THE FACE AT THE DOORWAY,
XLIV. HOW THINGS ENDED,
* * * * *
ILLUSTRATIONS.
IN RANGOON, _Frontispiece_
THE ATTACK ON THE MONASTERY,
THE DANGER AT THE FORD,
THE DANCING GIRL,
A SUDDEN ALARM,
THE RESCUE OF THE NATIVE CHILD,
THE MIDNIGHT THIEF,
THE INTERCEPTED FLIGHT,
* * * * *
JACK HAYDON'S QUEST.
CHAPTER I.
THE ATTACK ON THE HEATH.
Jack Haydon, prefect of Rushmere School and captain of the first
fifteen, walked swiftly out of the school gates and turned along the
high road. He had leave to go to the little town of Longhampton, three
miles away, to visit a day-scholar, a great friend of his, now on the
sick list.
He was alone, and he swung along at a cracking pace, for he could walk
as well as he could run, and a finer three-quarter had never been
known at Rushmere. He was a tall, powerful lad, nearly nineteen years
of age, five foot ten and a half inches in his stockings, and turning
the scale at twelve stone five. At the present moment he carried not
an ounce of spare flesh, for he was in training for the great match,
Rushmere _v._ Repton, and his weight was compact of solid bone,
muscle, and sinew. As he stepped along the highway, moving with the
easy grace of a well-built athlete, he looked the very picture of a
handsome English lad, at one of the finest moments of his life, the
point where youth and manhood meet.
The road he followed was called a high road, but the name clung to it
from old use rather than because of present service. Eighty years
before it had been a famous coaching road, along which the galloping
teams had whirled the mails, but now it had fallen into decay, and was
little used except by people passing from Rushmere to Longhampton. A
mile from the school it ran across a lonely, unenclosed piece of
heath, the side of the way being bordered by clumps of holly, thorn,
and furze.
Halfway across this desolate stretch of country, Jack was surprised by
seeing a man step from behind a thick holly bush and place himself
directly in the lad's way. As Jack approached, the man held up his
hand.
"Stop," he said, "I want to speak to you."
Jack stopped in sheer surprise, and looked at the speaker in wonder.
What could the man want with him? At a glance he saw the man was not
English, though upon closer examination he could not place the type.
The stranger's skin was darker than an Englishman's, but not darker
than many a Spaniard's. His eyes were large and black and liquid;
their look was now crafty and a trifle menacing; his hair was lank and
intensely black. In build he was very slight, with thin arms and legs.
Jack's idea was that if he had been a little darker he might very well
have been a Hindoo.
"And what, my friend, may you want with me?" said Jack genially.
"This morning you received a letter from your father," said the dusky
stranger.
"How under the sun do you know that?" asked Jack; "and what if I did?
I don't see where your interest comes in."
"I wish to see that letter. You had better hand it over at once."
"Don't you ever apply for a further stock of cheek, my little man,"
said Jack, "for you've got all you need, and a little bit over."
"The letter is almost certainly in your pocket," said the stranger in
perfect English, yet pronounced with a curiously odd lisp and click,
"and I must see it."
"It's in my pocket all right, confound your cheek," replied Jack, "and
there it will stay. Come, get a move on you, and clear out of my way."
"I shall not get out of your way," said the other. "I shall stop you
until I have read the letter."
"I don't know what lunatic asylum is short of your cheerful presence
to-day," remarked Jack, "and if you don't clear out quick I shall
certainly rush you. In which case, I beg you to observe that I am,
even if I say it myself, a pretty stiff tackler, and about three stone
heavier than you."
The man laughed mockingly and waved his hand, as if making very light
of Jack's purpose.
"I assure you," he said in a soft voice, and giving once more his
laugh of light mockery, "that it would be much better for you to hand
over the letter at once. I do not wish to hurt you, but I have not the
least objection to do so if it becomes necessary."
Jack's warm blood was fired at once, and he pulled himself together
for a swift charge which would fill this stranger with surprised
regret for what he had brought upon himself. But, for a second,
something checked him; a strange, mysterious feeling came over him as
he wondered what lay behind all this. He stood, though he knew it not,
at a great parting of the ways. Behind him lay his happy days of
triumph on the football meadow and the cricket field. How was he to
know that this dark, slight figure before him meant that a strange,
new life was opening out to him, a life of wild adventures in far-off
lands, in lands where the memory of English meadows would seem like
thoughts and dreams of another life. Jack Haydon knew nothing of this;
yet he paused for a moment as some strange prevision seized upon him
and held him in its grip. Then he brushed away this odd influence, and
was back at once in the present.
"For the last time, clear out," said Jack. The man laughed, and Jack
made a swift leap at him. They were not three yards apart, but Jack
never reached his man. Without a sign, without a sound, someone sprang
upon him from behind, flung a cord over his head, and seized him in a
strangling grip. Jack was as strong as a young bull, but in this
awful, noiseless clutch he was helpless. He fought madly to throw off
his unseen assailant, but he fought in vain. He felt a noose close
upon his throat, and his eyeballs began to start out and his head to
swim. In front of him stood the mysterious stranger, who had moved
neither hand nor foot, and Jack's last conscious recollection was of
the quiet, smiling face, and the mocking laugh once more rang in his
ears. Suddenly the frightful, strangling clutch seemed to tighten, the
blood drummed madly in his ears as if every vein was bursting; then he
knew no more.
When Jack Haydon came to himself, he found that he was in the same
spot, and that someone was chafing his hands and pouring water on his
face. He gave a deep sigh, and a well-known voice said: "Thank God,
Haydon's coming round. Whatever could have been the matter with the
poor lad? What does this mark round his throat mean?"
Jack opened his eyes and saw Dr. Lawrence, the headmaster of Rushmere
School, bending over him. Near at hand stood Colonel Keppel, a
gentleman residing in the neighbourhood. The Colonel had been driving
Dr. Lawrence back from Longhampton, and his trap stood close by. At
the present moment the Colonel held a hat from which water was
dripping. He had fetched it from a pool near at hand.
Jack gulped once or twice, then began to speak. The two gentlemen
heard his story with the utmost surprise.
"Garrotters!" cried Dr. Lawrence, "I never heard of such an outrage in
this neighbourhood before. What a frightful thing! Yes, yes, that
explains the mark on your throat. Their object must have been robbery.
What have they stolen from you, Haydon?" But the mystery now deepened.
Jack's watch and chain, his purse, everything he had worth stealing,
were perfectly safe and untouched. Suddenly Jack started up and thrust
his hand into his pocket. "The letter! the letter!" he cried. He drew
out several letters and looked over them. "My father's letter has
gone!" he said.
"What's that?" said Colonel Keppel, pointing to a sheet of paper
fluttering over the heath about thirty yards away. He ran and fetched
it. "This is the letter," said Jack, "the letter I received from my
father this morning."
"But what an extraordinary thing that you should be attacked in this
manner, Haydon, in order that this man may read a private letter. Is
there anything in it, may I ask, to explain such a strange
proceeding?"
"Nothing, sir, that I know of; nothing in the least. My father says
nothing there but what anyone may see. I beg that you and Colonel
Keppel will glance over it; you will then see how ordinary it is."
The two gentlemen demurred, but Jack insisted, and they ran their eyes
over what Mr. Haydon had written. "Purely and simply an ordinary
letter from a father abroad to his son," said the Doctor; "it seems
madness to go to such lengths to gain a glimpse of such a letter."
"All the same, young Haydon was quite right in not giving up his
father's note to such rogues to read, whatever their purpose may have
been," remarked the Colonel.
"Oh, quite so, quite so," agreed Dr. Lawrence. "They had no right
whatever to see his private correspondence. By the way, Haydon, I see
your father is on his way home. This is posted at Cairo. In what part
of the East has he been staying lately?"
"He has been in Burmah for some time, sir," replied Jack, "but I do
not know exactly what he has been doing. I rather fancy he went out to
survey some ruby-mines for a big London firm."
"Quite so," said the Doctor, "I have seen him referred to many times
as a famous ruby expert."
At this moment Colonel Keppel came towards them with something in his
hand. He had started away after concluding his last speech, and had
gone in the direction where he had seen the letter fluttering. Now he
was returning.
"Here is something they dropped, something which throws a flood of
light on the affair in one way, and makes it much stranger in
another," he remarked in a grave voice, holding up his find. It was a
curiously-plaited thong of raw hide, with faded strips of silk worked
into the plaits.
"The cord with which Haydon was garrotted!" cried Dr. Lawrence. "They
dropped it."
"Yes," said the Colonel slowly, "but this does not mean common
garrotters. The fact that they stole nothing really disposes of that.
This means a much darker and more terrible business."
"And what is that?" cried the headmaster.
"Thuggee," said Colonel Keppel very gravely.
"Thugs, Colonel!" said Dr. Lawrence in a tone of stupefaction. "Are
you serious? Thugs on the heath here, in our quiet, familiar country?"
"This is a Thug noose, at any rate," said Colonel Keppel. "I know it
very well. I served twenty-seven years among the hill-tribes of
northern India in one capacity and another, and once I served in a
Thug country, and I shall never forget it. The way young Haydon was
handled suggests Thuggee. No common garrotter could have overcome such
a fine, powerful young fellow in that fashion. But the skill of these
Thugs is a thing truly diabolical. I remember one instance well. One
night, just upon dusk, two men of my regiment were entering the gate
of the cantonments. The guard saw them pass, and one was relating a
story to the other. The man telling the story expected his comrade to
laugh at the conclusion of the anecdote. Hearing nothing, he turned
and found that he was walking alone and talking to the empty air.
Thinking his comrade had slipped aside and played a trick upon him by
leaving him to himself, he went on to the barrack-room. Later the
second man was missing, and inquiries were made. A search followed,
and the dead body of the unfortunate man was found under the wall of
the cantonments. He had been seized and strangled by Thugs when
actually walking beside a comrade, and the latter had known nothing of
it.
"That shows frightful skill and cunning, Colonel," said Dr. Lawrence.
"It does indeed," said the other, "and I could relate a dozen such
stories. But why Thugs should be here and attack Haydon seems a most
extraordinary mystery. How do you feel now, Haydon?"
"Much better, sir," replied Jack. "My throat's a bit stiff, but for
the rest I am none the worse."
"You've had a wonderful escape, my boy," said Colonel Keppel; "there
are not many who have felt a Thug noose and lived to say what it was
like. But now, Doctor, what are we to do? There must be some inquiry
made into this."
"Of course, of course," agreed Dr. Lawrence. "You are a magistrate,
Colonel; what do you recommend?"
"We must put it into the hands of the police at once," said Colonel
Keppel. "The fellows cannot have got far. We saw no sign of them on
the road, so they must have slipped away over the heath, very probably
as soon as they heard the sound of wheels in the distance. Now,
Haydon, jump up at the back of the trap. The cob will soon run us up
to the constable's cottage in Rushmere."
All three climbed into the Colonel's dog-cart, and away went the brown
cob at a slashing pace for Rushmere. Tom Buck, the Rushmere constable,
was just returning from a round, and he touched his hat respectfully
to the gentlemen. Colonel Keppel told the story, and Buck slapped the
gate-post with his open hand.
"Well, gentlemen," he said in surprise, "then they are the very men
I've just been hearing about."
"What's that?" said Colonel Keppel. "Where have you heard of them?"
"From Parsons, the postman, he drives the mail-cart, you know, sir,
from Longhampton. This morning, just after six, he was coming through
the Chase, the wood beyond the heath, when two men slipped out o' the
trees before him and made a dash at the horse's head. There was hardly
light enough to see 'em, an' they'd ha' stopped him as easy as could
be if he hadn't been drivin' a young, fresh, chestnut mare. She's that
wild he daren't use a whip to her, but seein' these suspicious
characters, he snatches the whip out and gives her a cut as hard as he
could lay it on. Off she went like a shot, took the bit between her
teeth and bolted. As for the men jumpin' at her head, it was all they
could do to save themselves from being run down and trodden underfoot.
Parsons luckily managed to keep her on the road, and after she'd
galloped a couple o' miles or so, he managed to pull her in all of a
lather."
"Then those rascals meant to raid the mail-bags to find your letter,
Haydon," said Colonel Keppel. "They seem to have been thoroughly
posted as to its time of arrival. Missing the postman, they hung
about, and a strange chance delivered you into their hands."
"It's certainly a most mysterious business, sir," replied Jack. "But
why they should want to see so simple and ordinary a letter, who they
are, and what they're after, are altogether beyond me."
"We must try to get hold of them," said Colonel Keppel, "then we shall
perhaps be able to fathom the mystery." He gave orders to Buck, who
went off at once to follow, if possible, the track of the strangers
across the heath, to inquire at cottages, and do his utmost to trace
them.
"For my part," said Colonel Keppel, "I shall drive back at once to
Longhampton, and see the superintendent. The railway must be watched,
and every constable for miles round be warned by telegraph to keep a
look out for the rascals."
"You are very kind to take so much trouble, Colonel," said Dr.
Lawrence.
"I'm working for myself as much as anyone," laughed the other. "My
wife and daughters use that road continually, and very often they are
driving alone in a pony-carriage. It is imperative that the
neighbourhood be cleared of such desperate characters."
He drove away at once, and Dr. Lawrence and Jack walked up the hill to
the school. Jack had given up the idea of his visit to Longhampton.
"If I were you, Haydon," said the Head, "I should go and rest a
little. Sit down quietly in your study for an hour or two; you must
feel badly shaken by your awful experience."
"Thank you, sir," replied Jack, "I will do as you say, though as a
matter of fact I am practically recovered now. Luckily, I'm in
first-rate condition, I'm not bothered with nerves."
"No," smiled Dr. Lawrence, "I suppose not. Still, I should be careful
for a time if I were you."
At the Doctor's gate they parted, and Jack went to his own study and
sat down. He could not keep his mind from his extraordinary adventure.
Why had those fellows seized him, and what did they want? Would they
be caught, and then would their secret be discovered? His mind worked
over these points again and again, like a squirrel working the wheel
in his cage.