A PITIFUL END.
The situation of Fritz was to him a decidedly gloomy one, as, owing to
the impenetrable darkness his eyesight was of no use whatever. He did
not know either, if it was safe to stir, as there might be another
trap which he would fall into, and go headlong down into some other
pit.
But he resolved to test the matter, and feel out the boundaries of his
new prison at once.
Groping about, inch by inch, and trying the floor in front of him
before trusting the weight of his body upon it, he soon came to a
plastered wall, and concluded by that, that he still remained in the
building, having probably only fallen to the first floor.
"Vel, dot don'd vas so pad ash I first expected," he muttered, feeling
a little more assured. "I t'ought I vas goin' vay down to der blace
vere dey manufacture fire-crackers. Der next question, ish der any
outlet to dis brison, I vonder?"
Keeping his hands upon the wall, he walked several times around the
dark apartment without pausing.
"Der ish not von door or vinder, nor hole of any kind!" he finally
muttered. "I would not haff such a house for a gift."
The room indeed appeared to be barren of those accessories, as far as
he was able to learn by the sense of feeling, and it would seem that
it was thus purposely prepared for a prison.
"Vel, I guess I might as vel prepare to imitate der example off Doctor
Tanner, und go vidout somedings to eat for forty years or so!" Fritz
muttered, feeling of his stomach dolefully, for the apples had far
from satisfied his appetite. "But, if possible, I must get oud off
here, somehow, before Fox und der boys get here."
Just how he was to do it furnished him a serious subject to ponder on.
* * * * *
"Curse the girl! she's fainted!" the smuggler chief cried, pausing in
his horrible work.
"Perhaps she is playing off, to escape punishment," the countess
suggested, with a malicious smile. "The American mademoiselle is very
deceitful!"
"Faint or no faint, she shall get all that her stubborn resistance
demands!" Greyville growled, mercilessly, and he raised the whip and
struck her another stinging blow.
"Stop! Strike that girl again and I'll kill you!" a voice cried, not
far in their rear, and turning, they beheld a stranger rushing up, a
pair of cocked revolvers in hand.
"Furies!" Greyville gasped, turning pale.
"_Mon Dieu!_ what's to pay? Let's fly!" from the countess.
"No! we will stand our ground!" the smuggler hissed.
The new-comer soon stood before them, with stern, accusing gaze, and a
face flushed from his run.
"Devils!" he cried, "what is the meaning of this brutal scene? Explain
instantly."
It was the Leadville speculator, Thornton, who spoke, and there was
grim business expressed in his tone.
"What right have you to intrude in what is none of your business?"
Greyville demanded, sourly.
"Eh! I'll show you, you brutal puppy! Don't give me any of your lip,
or I'll blow your brains out. Why, cuss my boots, you're as bad as the
Dog Injuns on the frontier!"
"I presume I've a right to chastise my own child, sir, when her
conduct deserves it!"
"That's not your child, Garry Gregg! I know you. You are the wretch I
have been longing to meet these ten years!"
"You know me?" the smuggler cried, in amazement.
"Ay! I know you!" the Westerner cried. "You are the worthless devil
who trapped Minnie Gray into a secret marriage years ago, and after
living with her a couple of years, and abusing her, left her in
poverty, to live with a woman you had previously married."
"And incurred your enmity by winning your sweetheart away from you!"
Gregg sneered, mockingly.
"Be that as it may, you are responsible for a good woman's death, and
you shall answer for it. Tell me, sir--is this poor child you have
been beating, the daughter of Minnie Gray?"
"If you like, yes."
"Then, curse you, leave this spot at once, if you don't want me to
shoot you down. I'll take care you never strike her again! Go! I say,
or I'll kill you without hesitation!"
There was a stern glare in the speculator's eyes that betokened
danger, and, accompanied by the countess and Grogan, the smuggler
chief hurried away.
As soon as they had gone, Mr. Thornton cut the bonds that held Silly
Sue to the post, and laid her tenderly down upon the soft grass.
Hurrying down to the beach, he procured some water in his hat, and
returning, dashed it in her face.
But although he did this, and chafed her hands and wrists, she did not
open her eyes. Her breath came in stifled gasps, and her heart beat
slowly.
"By Heaven! I believe they have killed her!" Mr. Thornton muttered,
feelings of terrible rage swelling within him. "The equal of this
brutality is seldom, even among the red devils on the frontier. Ah!
Garry Gregg, if this poor child dies, you shall pay bitterly for her
life, or my name is not Thornton!"
He continued faithfully in his endeavors to bring her back to
consciousness, but all to no avail.
While he was thus engaged there came sounds of rapid footsteps, and
Hal Hartly dashed up, flushed and excited.
"Great Heaven! what is the matter with Susie?" he demanded, on seeing
her lying on the ground, so cold and white.
"I fear she is dying, young man," Mr. Thornton replied, solemnly. "I
can not restore her to consciousness. Was she anything to you, sir?"
"Indeed, yes; she was all the world to me, poor child, and we were to
be married, one of these days!" Hartly replied, kneeling beside her,
with tears in his eyes. "Susie! oh! Susie, my little waif, can't you
look up and speak to me?"
The girl slowly opened her eyes, and gazed up at him, with a loving
smile.
"Yes, Hal, I know. I am dying, Hal. Where is Fritz?"
"I don't know, darling. I have not seen him since morning."
"Well, when you see him, tell him I sent the message, and got an
answer that the detectives would come."
"The detectives?"
"Yes. I went for him, to telegraph for them, and he gave me five
dollars. It is in my pocket, Hal--you can have it, to get me a little,
plain stone for my grave."
"But, Susie, you can't be dying--tell me what is the matter?"
"She has been cruelly beaten. I came here a few moments ago and drove
off the devils, but I fear I came too late!" Mr. Thornton explained,
sadly.
"It was papa, you know!" Sue added, as Hartly uttered a cry of
astonishment. "He discovered the errand I had done, and had a big
Irishman capture me and bring me here. Then he and the countess came,
and I was tied to a stake and whipped till I fainted. They have killed
me, I guess. I feel as if I am filling up inside, and something tells
me I shall soon die. I hate to leave you, Hal, but I am not afraid to
die. I have always said my prayers, loved the Lord, and been honest,
and I know He will receive me."
The girl's childish faith and simplicity touched Mr. Thornton as well
as young Hartly, and tears flowed freely.
The little outcast soon closed her eyes again, her arms about Hartly's
neck, as she rested in his embrace, and a peaceful expression of
contentment upon her face.
About sunset she spoke, without opening her eyes.
"Hal!" she said, softly.
"Yes, Susie," he replied; "what do you wish?"
"Not much. After I am gone burn the old house yonder, and break up the
smugglers."
"Yes, Susie."
"And you'll be a good man, Hal, all your life, so you will join me in
heaven?"
"I will try, dearest."
"Then kiss me good-by."
Convulsed with sobs, the grief-stricken lover obeyed, and, just as the
last rays of sunset began to fade, Susie breathed her last, expiring
without the least appearance of pain, and a faint, peaceful smile upon
her lips.
For some moments after her death neither Hartly nor Mr. Thornton
spoke, but finally the latter said:
"She has gone where she will know no more suffering or sorrow and it
is perhaps better so. Is your home near by?"
"I live in a sort of hut back in the woods, and if you will lend a
hand we will take her there."
The speculator assented, and Hartly procured a wide board, and laid
the limp form upon it. Then raising the primitive litter between them,
they left the bluff and took to the lonely country road, which they
followed until they came to a rude shanty, standing in the edge of
the woods. They bore their burden into the only room and deposited it
upon a couple of stools.
Hartly then turned to Mr. Thornton.
"You are a stranger to us, sir," he said, "but would you kindly remain
here until I can go to a neighboring town and make arrangements for
her burial?"
"Certainly, my boy."
"Then I will go and send the undertakers at once to take charge of the
remains. If I do not return with the undertakers, let them remove the
body, and I will see you later, perhaps."
He then kissed the lips and forehead of the dead girl, and took his
departure.
Once outside, his whole demeanor underwent a change.
His face became stern and hard in its expression, and his eyes gleamed
with a wild light that could hardly have been pronounced sane.
"First the house!" he muttered, between his clinched teeth; "then I
will see to the burial. After that revenge!"--words uttered with a
power of feeling, which bespoke grim resolution.
Hurrying back to the bluff he entered the building, and from the
pantry brought an oil-can and poured oil about in a number of
different places, applying a lighted match to each.
As a result, bright sheets of flame sprung up, and, in less time
almost than it takes to tell it, the interior of the old rookery was
on fire in several places.
Then, with a wild laugh, he turned and fled from the building, and
disappeared from the vicinity of the bluff.
The old house was doomed.
And in the doorless, windowless trap-room, where he had so
unexpectedly become imprisoned, was Fritz, in the most unenviable
situation one could well conceive.
* * * * *
Captain Gregg, as we shall henceforth call him, learned of Silly Sue's
death shortly after it occurred through the Irishman, who, while
pretending to leave the spot, had scouted around, and lurked in the
vicinity until Hartly and Mr. Thornton had departed with the body.
Gregg was both alarmed and surprised when he heard the news, and
immediately sought the countess for consultation.
He had no idea he had done the girl any fatal bodily injury. If she
was dead, and the cause of her death came to be known, he well knew
that he would be called upon to answer to the law.
The countess listened to his recital of Grogan's report, the lines in
her thin face growing even harder than were their wont.
"I feared zis," she said. "You were ver' mooch savage!"
"What do you advise?"
"Zat we remain where we be for ze present. You say zis stranger be an
old enemy of yours?"
"Yes. Doubly so now, from a fact that he is the father of Grif's
prisoner, that's locked up in the dungeon."
"Humph! zis is bad! Vare be ze Dutchman?"
"There is no telling. Perhaps Griffith will know when he comes."
But Griffith did not come.
It was nearly dark in the outer world when he recovered from the
terrible blow he had got from Fritz's pistol in the cave, and
staggered to the inner cavern.
The moment he entered it a smell of burning timbers greeted his
nostrils.
"By Heaven! the house above is burning up, I believe!" he cried,
rushing to the rope ladder and beginning to climb it rapidly.
But he had only got a few feet up when it gave way, and he fell to the
ground, considerably bruised.
"The devil's to pay now!" he muttered, angrily. "A fellow will smother
down here."
For a moment the young villain stood irresolute--then he approached
the door of Madge Thornton's cell.
"Madge!" he called.
There was no answer.
"Madge!" he shouted, in a louder tone, at the same time rattling the
door, savagely.
"Well, what do you want?" she demanded, rising from her cot.
"I want to know if you want to escape from this place alive?"
"Why, what is the matter?"
"Matter enough! The old house above is burning down, and if you don't
want to suffocate you must leave this place at once, with me."
"Well, why don't you open the door, then?"
He was unlocking the great padlock even as he spoke.
"I am perfectly willing to do so, and when you reveal to me the
hiding-place of your father's money, which you had, when you left
Leadville, you are free to go," he said, standing the doorway.
"Are you foolish enough to suppose for one moment, that I will reveal
that?"
"If you don't do it, curse you, I will leave you here to suffocate!"
"Do so! I would cheerfully pay that penalty of my folly in ever having
anything to do with you, a hundred times, rather than submit to your
demands."
"Then--but no! I'll release you if you'll give me half of the sum."
"Not a cent, you detestable wretch."
"Curses on your obstinacy! You have refused to do what is right, and
you shall take the the consequences."
Stepping back he reclosed the door angrily, and hastily relocked the
padlock; then he left the main chamber, for the outer one, and jumped
into the boat.
The tide was now on the ebb, and the water was now down so that he
could row out of the hole into the ocean.
As soon as he got out a grand sight met his gaze.
The old house on top of the bluff was in a sheet of lurid flame,
lighting up the early evening, which otherwise was quite dark.
Showers of sparks ascended toward the heavens, and the crackling of
the dancing blaze made weird music.
Pulling in to shore, Griffith Gregg leaped from the boat, and
clambered up the side of the bluff.
The first man he met was Thornton of Leadville, who had fastened up
the hut, and hurried to the scene of the conflagration, as soon as he
had discovered the light.
The recognition was mutual, and each uttered a cry.
"At last!" the speculator cried, and he bounded forward, and seized
his enemy by the throat. Gregg clinched with him, and the two men
rolled to the ground, in a fierce struggle, the lurid light of the
burning building lighting up the scene like unto the colored fire to
some wild exciting drama.