"O God! are they to get away--these guilty, redhanded wretches?"
It would seem so. They have already dipped their oar-blades into the
water, and commenced pulling, while they are beyond pistol-range.
Ha! something stays them! God is not for them. Their arms rise and
fall, but the boat moves not! Her keel is on a coral bottom; her bilge
caught upon its rough projections. Their own weight pressing down,
holds her fast, and their oar-strokes are idly spent!
They had not thought of being thus stayed; though it proves the
turning-point of their fate.
No use their leaping out now, to lighten the boat; no time for that, nor
any chance to escape. But two alternatives stare them in the face--
resistance, which means death; surrender, that seems the same.
De Lara would resist and die; so also Rocas. But the other two are
against it, instinctively holding on to whatever hope of life be left
them.
The craven Calderon cuts short the uncertainty by rising erect,
stretching forth his arms, and crying out in a piteous appeal for mercy.
In an instant after they are surrounded, the boat grasped by the
gunwale, and dragged back to the shore. Crozier with difficulty
restrains the angry gold-diggers from shooting them down on the thwarts.
Well for them the coxswain has not been killed, but only wounded, and
in no danger of losing his life. Were it otherwise, theirs would be
taken on the spot.
Assured of his safety, his rescuers pull the four wretches out of the
boat; then disarming, drag them up to the platform, and bestow them in
the larger cave: for a time to be their prison, though not long. For,
there is a judge present, accustomed to sit upon short trials, and pass
quick sentences, soon succeeded by their execution. He is the
celebrated _Justice Lynch_.
Represented by a stalwart digger--all the others acting as Jury--the
trial is speedily brought to a termination. For the four of Spanish
nationality the verdict is guilty--the sentence, _death_--on the
scaffold.
The others, less criminal, are to be carried on to Panama, and there
delivered over to the Chilian consul; their crime being mutiny, with
robbery, and abandonment of a Chilian vessel.
An exception is made in the case of Striker and Davis. The "Sydney
Ducks" receive conditional pardon, on promise of better behaviour
throughout all future time. This they obtain by the intercession of
Harry Blew, in accordance with the hint he gave them while they were
standing together beside the spread tarpauling.
Of the men sentenced to be hanged, one meets his fate in a different
manner. The gold-dust has been recovered, packed, and put into the
boat. The senoritas are cloaked, and impatient to be taken back to the
barque, yearning to embrace him they have so long believed dead.
The English officers stand beside them; all awaiting the last scene of
the tragedy--the execution of the condemned criminals.
The stake has been set for it; this the level plot of ground in front of
the cavern's month. A rope hangs down with a running noose at one end;
the other, in default of gallow's arm and branch of tree, rigged over
the point of a projecting rock.
All this arranged, De Lara is led out first, a digger on each side of
him. He is not tied, nor confined in any way. They have no fear of his
making his escape.
Nor has he any thoughts of attempting it; though he thinks of something
else, as desperate and deadly. He will not die like a scared dog, but
as a fierce tiger; to the last thirsting for blood, to the end trying to
destroy--to kill! The oath sworn by him above on the cliff, he still is
determined on keeping.
As they conduct him out of the cave, his eyes glaring with lurid light,
go searching everywhere, till they rest upon a group some twenty paces
distant. It is composed of four persons: Crozier and Carmen,
Cadwallader and Inez, standing two and two.
At the last pair De Lara looks not, the first enchaining his attention.
Only one short glance he gives them; another to a pistol which hangs
holstered on the hip of a gold-digger guarding him.
A spring, and he has possession of it; a bound, and he is off from
between the two men, and rushing on towards the group standing apart!
Fortunately for Edward Crozier--for Carmen Montijo as well--there are
cries of alarm, shouts of warning, that reach him in time.
He turns on hearing them, sees the approaching danger, and takes
measures to avert it. Simple enough these--but the drawing of his
revolver, and firing at the man who advances.
Two shots are heard, one on each side, almost simultaneous; but enough
apart to decide which of the two who fired must fall.
Crozier's pistol had cracked first; and as the smokes of both swirl up,
the gambler is seen astretch upon the sward--the blood spurting from his
breast, and spreading over his shirt bosom!
Harry Blew, rushing forward, and bending over him, cries out:
"Dead! Shot through the heart--a brave heart too! What a pity 'twar so
black!"
"Come away, _mia querida_!" says Crozier to Carmen. "Your father will
be suffering from anxiety about you. You've had enough of the horrible.
Let us hope this is the end of it."
Taking his betrothed by the hand, he leads her down to the boat--
Cadwallader and Inez accompanying them.
All seat themselves in the stern-sheets, and wait for the diggers; who
soon after appear, conducting their prisoners, the pirate crew of the
_Condor_; short four left behind--a banquet for the _caracaras_!