CHAPTER XXIX.

IN THE SMUGGLERS’ CAVE.

Every eye was turned like a flash upon the intruder, and the chief, with

a fearful oath, sprang toward him, with a gleam of startled fear in his

eye notwithstanding his dauntless bearing.

He would have seized in his rough grasp him who had thus defied him in

his den; but stepping back a pace or two, Fredrich Weimher turned his

flashing eyes full upon the towering form before him, and said, in

clear, ringing tones:

“Not another step, sir! I warn you!”

His heavy revolver was raised, and covered the defeated villain’s heart,

and grinding his teeth in bitter rage, he retreated a step, for he saw

that courage and determination lurked in the young man’s eyes.

He could not help admiring him too, for, though armed to the teeth, few

would have dared to come into the presence of so large a number of his

band, even though they were entirely defenseless.

He could not account for the strange circumstance. How could he have

gained an entrance to his fortress? There must be treachery somewhere,

unless——A sudden thought struck him; he looked again, and then his eyes

gleamed with such a fire of rage and hate that a stronger man than he

might have quailed beneath it.

“Ha!” he roared; “I know you now!—curses on you! You shall not escape me

a second time! Fool that I was, not to finish you when I had the

chance!”

“Sir?” demanded Fredrich, in his turn surprised.

“Sir! You needn’t sir me, you young Paul Pry; I told you your meddlesome

disposition would yet lead you into trouble.”

“Ah! yes, now I understand you, although for the moment I did not

recognize you,” replied Fredrich, smiling calmly.

“And you have broken your oath never to reveal to mortal man what you

knew of this place,” returned the chief, more and more amazed at his

calm, self-possessed manner, while those around were speechless with

surprise, that any one should thus dare to “beard the lion in his lair.”

“How do you know I have broken my oath?”

“How do I know? Is not your presence here alone sufficient proof? Who is

your companion in this hazardous expedition?”

“If you remember rightly, my oath was worded thus—that I would never

tell any one where the entrance to the cave was to be found. I have

literally kept my word. I have not told, but I have come myself to

release my friends whom you hold as captives. I have come to stop that

fiendish business,” he said, pausing, and pointing to Dora’s lifeless

form. “That villain says I am too late; but a short time will serve to

prove that I am not.”

“Curse you! do you think I am going to stand this insolence, and from a

mere boy? Seize him, and bind him instantly!” he cried, turning to his

band, and fairly foaming at the mouth with rage.

Several men sprang forward to do his bidding, while he shouted to the

rest:

“To arms, all of you! There is a traitor in the camp, I’ll swear.”

“Hold!”

The word was echoed from a dozen different points of that enormous room,

and instantly the drapery was swept aside from as many places, and from

each entrance emerged five or six stalwart men, with pistols cocked, and

otherwise armed to the teeth.

Every smuggler stood mute and terror-stricken; they saw at once the

fearful odds against them, and knew that resistance would be useless. In

sullen silence they awaited the result of this fearful and unexpected

interruption of their wedding gayeties.

“Edgerton, place your men in position, and shoot the first man that

moves or resists,” commanded Fredrich Weimher, in a clear, ringing tone.

Ronald Edgerton and about twenty-five men filed along at one end of the

room, and at a word of command from him each raised his weapon, and held

it ready for action.

The smugglers gazed in terror around, but every entrance had an armed

sentinel, and not a chance of escape was possible.

“Forward and bind these villains, every one of them!” shouted Fredrich,

and boldly springing forward to lead the attack.

The scene which followed was exciting beyond description.

Those great lawless men, who for years had fearlessly roamed the world

at large, committing their crimes, and the most daring acts

conceivable—who were a terror and a dread to all who knew of their

existence—were now rendered powerless in a single instant.

The fame of an artist, who could have faithfully transferred to his

canvas that brilliant, gorgeous room, with its strange and excited

occupants, would forever have been established, and his praises sung

throughout the world.

See them!

That company of conquerors, with their flushed, eager faces, weapons

raised and aimed at the hearts of the baffled villains, Fredrich

Weimher’s men, with coils of stout cord in their hands, and in the act

of springing forward to bind their helpless foes.

The smugglers, with their sullen, terror-pale faces, their confused and

faltering manner, gazing half beseechingly, half menacingly at their

hitherto infallible chief, who, with white and foaming lips, frantic

eyes, despairing mien, stood stunned and dismayed before them. While on

one side were the beautiful maidens, huddled together, shivering and

gazing with a sort of horrible fascination upon the scene before them,

though in their faces one might read of hopeful hearts beating beneath

their colorless features.

Opposite this group, and seated upon the floor of the altar, was Madame

Alroyd, holding the senseless bride clasped in her trembling arms, while

Ralph, the clergyman, and Nina were bending anxiously over them, and

applying restoratives.

Last, but not least, was the astonished squire, who stood with his gray

locks streaming back, his eyes protruding from their sockets, his face

shrunken and livid with fear and rage, while his hands worked backward

and forward, and his whole attitude betraying uncertainty and doubt.

They seized and bound the much-dreaded chief first, who, though he

cursed and raved fearfully, dared not offer resistance. The rest, now

that their leader was secured, were a comparatively easy conquest,

though the words which fell from their lips were horrible to hear, and

the expression of their faces fearful to behold.

There were only about twenty-five of them present, and these were all

quickly and firmly bound, and then placed under a guard upon one side of

the room.

When the last one was disposed of those lovely captives could restrain

themselves no longer. They clasped each other in their arms, weeping and

laughing by turns for joy.

They felt that their time for release was near at hand, that loving arms

would soon encircle them, and hearts that long since mourned them as

dead would beat once again with joy and thankfulness at their

resurrection, as it were.

Vivien Lamerack, or Moulton, alone had retained her self-possession

through the whole scene, and now stood regarding the handsome leader of

this glorious enterprise, her lovely, earnest eyes filled with

profoundest admiration.

Poor Enid Chichester knew nothing whatever of what was transpiring

around her, for the moment the curtains had parted, revealing Ralph

leading in his lovely bride, she had uttered a faint cry, and then sunk

softly down into the depths of a massive chair and quietly swooned away;

and there she had remained, wholly unconscious, no one noticing or

realizing what had happened to her, so intent were all upon the exciting

scene before her.

Ralph’s whole attention, after the first moment of startled surprise,

had been devoted to his senseless bride, who continued to lay pale and

still, as if death had already claimed her for his own. When he would

have raised her in his arms Madame Alroyd waved him sternly off, and

taking her to her own heart, bent with streaming eyes over her, calling

pitifully upon her to awake, while Ralph at last, conscience-stricken,

remained standing silently and sadly by.

Suddenly he raised his eyes, and saw his uncle stealing noiselessly

toward one of the outlets of the room.

There was a most sinister expression upon his evil face, which, upon

interpreting, Ralph’s heart grew still with a deathly horror for a

moment, then instantly bounding with new life and a sudden

determination, he left the sad group at the altar and quickly followed

his retreating figure.

The squire, on lifting the drapery at the door, discovered a guard; but

a lightning blow dropped him senseless, and he sped with flying steps in

the direction of Mr. Ellerton’s cell, feeling the sharp edge of a dagger

as he went, and muttering to himself:

“Now’s my time—now’s my time!”

Thrice wedded, but only once a wife · 第 29 / 39 章