PASCHERETTE DEALS AGAIN.
Dolores spent her night in slumber as peaceful as a babe's. When Milo
had completed his task with the treasure chests he went to his own
couch. John Pearse wandered deep into the eery forest, his brain filled
with tumultuous fancies, while Craik Tomlin and Rupert Venner lay in the
dark before the open doors of their separate cells, struggling for a
decision with their own good and evil natures. But Dolores, before
retiring called Pascherette to dress her hair and gave the little
octoroon some secret instructions against the morning.
"Now to thy bed, girl, and wake with bright eyes," said Dolores, her
toilet completed. "Let thy busy tongue wag its liveliest then; see to it
that the strangers hear whispers and rumors, yet keep them apart and
from harm a while. Thy task with the other rabble is easy. I care not
how they are divided. But divided they must be; to the point of mutiny.
Go, and sweet dreams to thee."
It was then that a subtle happiness stole into Dolores's face; then her
great luminous eyes closed slowly in utter peace; then that she lay down
with a gentle sigh on her couch of furs and slept care-free and smiling.
Dreams not of the brightest might have ruffled her calm had she seen the
night watch of her maid. For the moment Pascherette was dismissed, and
gave a second thought to her orders, a light of dawning hope,
prospective triumph, broke over the small, gold-tinted face and
sleepiness fled for the night.
"Divided they shall be!" she whispered, and hugged herself rapturously.
"Divided to her disaster and--Milo's triumph!"
Then the maid wrapped herself in a robe, and went out to the camp.
Like a fantom she appeared to Venner, and as swiftly vanished; but in
the moment that she bent over him she whispered in his ear that Tomlin
was the chosen of Dolores; that he and Pearse were doomed at the hands
of their friend.
"I tell thee, watch," she said. "By noon to-morrow the truth shall be
shown to thee." And in leaving him she placed in his hands the rapier
that had been taken from him by Dolores.
To Tomlin next she appeared, and his rapier also she returned; but in
his ear was breathed the name of John Pearse. To find Pearse himself was
harder; but she waited, and shortly before the dawn he emerged from the
forest and walked dully toward his own charred cell.
"Hah, my friend," she said to him, suddenly appearing from the shades.
"I fear thy tardiness has defeated thee. Now thou'lt need to look to
thyself, for the man Venner has vowed thy life to Dolores, and that of
Tomlin."
"What! Venner?"
"Surely. Why not? Is not Dolores worthy such a sacrifice then? Hah, but
Venner is a man of decision. Thy eyes saw the treasure? It's lost to
thee--unless--" she whispered, peering up into his angry face.
"Unless?"
"Unless thou prove the better man. Dolores would have thee before all
the rest, friend; but she despises a waverer. I tell thee thy fortune is
yet in thy hands."
"How?"
"Here, I have thy sword. Take it, and keep aloof and watch. When thou
canst see men carrying the treasure chests out to the white vessel, then
will be the time to strike. Join thyself with the men who seem faithful
to my mistress. There will be fighting; and the spoils are for the
victor."
Pearse would have stayed her, but she ran from him with a tantalizing
laugh and vanished into the women's quarters.
In the morning, when the men had breakfasted, a hum of activity pervaded
the place which was attributable to the octoroon's subtle influence. As
if by prearrangement, men drew apart into little knots, each gathering
about a leader and showing indecision until each man ascertained exactly
where his fellows were going. Then Dolores appeared with Milo, and she
faced four distinct parties before the great stone.
The sun was metallic in its redness, rising from behind a group of
low-hanging, hazy clouds, casting its fierce beams on the point and the
low shores of the anchorage. A brazen sky overtopped the scene, giving
to green foliage and yellow sands alike, a glare as of terrific
artificial light.
As Dolores appeared, the party headed by Caliban stepped forward,
muttering angrily, and every man kept hand on knife or cutlass. Caliban
himself, nervous and yet determined, glared at the formidable giant and
suddenly sprang out alone, shaking his first at Milo, and working
himself into greater fury. A frown darkened the face of Dolores; she had
commanded Pascherette to bring about a condition of unrest, but nothing
like this; for in all four parties was an attitude of suspicion of
herself, not of each other. She spoke in a low voice to Milo, then
raised her hand and advanced toward Caliban.
"Well, whelp of a deformed dog!" she cried. "What do ye seek with me? Is
this the way I've taught thee to beg?"
"I beg nothing!" screamed Caliban, pacing to and fro restlessly. "We
demand, not beg!"
"Demand? Have a care for thy loose tongue!"
"My tongue's my own! We are tired of thy trumpery state. Tired of thy
mystery and falsity. We know thy plot--know thy cunning scheme to carry
thy favorites away from here--to carry away the treasure that is ours,
not thine! Think ye we men will let ye go, to set the dogs of war-ships
upon us? Here and now we demand a settlement."
"Demand, again? Good Caliban"--she said softly, and smiled upon
him--"thy training has been faulty. Come, I will answer thee."
"Ye answer us all, or none. I know thee too well to trust thee. Answer
these men, who ask thy reason for keeping these three strangers to the
detriment of thine own people. Sancho paid dearly for his sight of thy
great chamber. Did the stranger who was in there with thee last night
suffer, too?"
"That's the talk; answer!" shouted the crew, led by Caliban's band and
supported less vociferously by the rest.
"Silence, then; I will answer!" cried Dolores, quivering with suppressed
rage. She spoke again to Milo, then turned to face the mob, her head
erect, her eyes ablaze.
She flashed a keen glance toward Pearse, who had sidled over to the band
led by Stumpy, who seemed less accusative than the others; she nodded
faintly, approvingly, and sought the others. Venner stood aloof, on the
fringe of Hanglip's crowd; Tomlin stood almost by the side of Spotted
Dog.
"I will answer. I see among ye men of troubled minds, who are not yet
disposed to flout my authority. Thee, Caliban, I have forgiven before;
yet here thou art, venturing again to confront me with demands. I will
not reply to thee, nor to any one man or party. To ye all, my people, I
have my answer. In one hour, in the grove, ye shall hear and be
satisfied. That is my answer now. Come Milo."
She walked slowly and steadily straight through the midst of the
muttering, grumbling mob, Milo at her back like a gargantuan shadow. And
looking neither to one way or the other, meeting eyes that glared in her
path with cold, dignified disdain, she proceeded through the camp,
across the grove, and to the ledge behind the altar. Savage curses
followed her; men jostled at her heels and dared Milo to prevent them;
the giant, calm and cold as his mistress, moved forward like a human
Juggernaut, laying a resistless hand upon a presuming shoulder here,
flinging aside a leering ruffian there.
And as the mob thinned, and Dolores entered the cool glade, something in
the situation which she had failed to realize before now struck her with
force; she started at the thought, then uttered a low, rippling laugh of
satisfaction. For Pascherette, in her cunning scheme of double-dealing,
had played into her lady's hands to an extent unhoped for by Dolores.
"Milo, the wolves are ready to tear," she said. "And they shall
tear--not me, but themselves! Didst note the three strangers? Even they
shall help more than I had hoped." She stepped up behind the altar, and
as she waited for Milo's assistance in climbing to the secret entrance
to the great chamber she asked:
"Thy blow-pipe, hast forgotten its use."
"As soon forget the use of my fingers, Sultana!" replied the giant,
permitting a grim smile to wrinkle his face for an instant.
"Then get thy darts. Have thy pipe ready here, thyself concealed, and
watch thy time to strike. But first light the altar fires. The rogues
believe in my magic no longer; I shall teach them anew, and such magic
as shall convince some of them."
From the camp arose a babel of uproar, men shouting against each other,
curses and threats alike aimed broadcast. And impatient of the delay,
small groups straggled into the grove to wait, Stumpy's party first,
their leader striving fiercely to quiet their noise. Dolores reappeared
soon, dressed in her altar robe, and her flashing eyes told her quickly
that John Pearse wavered between staying with his chosen party and going
in search of his companions. She caught his eye, and smiled brightly at
him, beckoning him to her.
He went up to the altar slowly, his face dark and sullen. She waited for
him, ignoring the mutterings of the pirates, and as he approached her
she gave him her hand.
"My friend, it pleases me to see thee among my faithful ones. Hast made
thy decision?"
"Decision! False woman, the decision was made while yet I was with you.
The decision was yours, not mine."
"False? Why, good John, what does that mean?" she asked, frank surprise
on her face.
"Have you not taken Venner for your man? Is he not your chosen mate, at
the price of my life and Tomlin's?"
"Fool!" she cried, fiercely. "Thy dreams have mixed thy brains. What
nonsense is this? I told thee thou wert my man, at a price. But thy
decision! Time is short. Say quickly what thou wilt do."
"Prove to me that I have heard that which is untrue, and I give you my
answer at the hour you demanded it--at noon."
"If thou remain here, the proof shall be shown thee," she replied, dark
with passion. Not yet had she quite seen through the cunning of
Pascherette. And a growing tumult beyond the trees warned her of greater
stress at hand, she had no more time to spare in argument with Pearse.
She waved him back, and with fire in her eyes commanded Stumpy to take
his men to one side.
"Stand there! Thy rascals will not dare to flout me!"
"We don't want to, lady," growled Stumpy, sullenly. He motioned his men
to follow, and took up a position at the right of the altar. But he
glared fearlessly at Dolores as he went, and added: "Ye have none more
faithful than Stumpy, if thy heart is still with us and for us. But
things begin to look plaguey rough, Dolores, since ye spared the white
schooner and her owner."
Swiftly Dolores stepped down and glided to Stumpy's side, his men
drawing back involuntarily, not in sufficient numbers to be able to
cast off their old awe of her.
"Thy ear, good Stumpy," she whispered. "Art for thy fellow pirates, or
for me? Speak quickly."
"I'm for you, lady," he replied, shifting awkwardly on his mutilated
foot. "For you, but not if what we heard is true."
"I tell thee it was false. Now art for me?" She bent upon him a smile of
dazzling beauty, soft-eyed and almost tender, and the pirate's face grew
ashamed; he knelt at her feet in humble obeisance, and the girl laid her
hand on his head, and bade him rise.
"Then remain faithful, Stumpy, and thou and thy men shall share in my
fortunes. Look well to the stranger there. Keep him with thee. I hear
the vultures coming."
She returned to the altar, took her place behind the swirling smoke, and
stood motionless, awaiting the arrival of the crowd whose noisy progress
could be traced step by step. And presently they broke into the grove,
unawed and uproarious, Caliban leading. Still the parties kept apart.
Hanglip and Spotted Dog ranged themselves on either side of Caliban's
gang, and every eye glared redly at the statuesque figure at the altar.
"Answer! Give us yer answer!" cried Caliban.
"Hear, my people!" Dolores cried, raising her arms for silence. "My
answer is this. Among ye is a traitor. That traitor has spread lies
among ye. Ye are my people, and none other. Did I not save the white
ship for ye? What if I preserved her people. They are here, and here
they shall remain. Had I thought to desert ye, could I not have gone in
the night? Who should say no? Am I not queen of ye all? Then why this
childish talk of leaving ye?"
Dolores was carefully fighting for time; she wished to dissect the
feeling of the crowd before her, and while she spoke her irrelevant
nothings, her keen eyes roved over every face. And Spotted Dog drew and
held her gaze as no other did; his face was awork with savage unbelief,
his loose lips wreathed and curled in his impatience to speak. At last
his fury could not be longer restrained; he sprang to the front, and
howled:
"Lies, all lies! Thy chit of a maid--"
The words were choked in his throat with terrible suddenness. Like
something unearthly, reaching from the unknown, the hand of death
gripped Spotted Dog and he stumbled and fell forward, gnashing his teeth
and clawing futilely at his breast. Dolores did not move. Her expression
did not change. Milo had again proved faithful.
But others of Spotted Dog's band, the greatest malcontents, stood
forward and peered down at their fallen leader; then with a shout of
rage they leaped up, faced the altar, and urged their fellows on.
"More infernal witchcraft!" they cried. "Tear the black witch and her
altar down!"
A moment of frightful silence followed, for the speakers felt the same
mysterious hand that had reached for and grasped their leader. One by
one they dropped in their tracks, smitten none knew how or whence; and
even Pearse, with Stumpy's band, shivered at the terrible uncanniness of
it. Then Caliban shook off his terror, sensed human agency in the silent
death, and looked around for the hand that sped it. As he glared, a dart
entered his own breast; but this one, ill-sped, failed in its mission.
The pirate staggered, his eyes widened, then he seized the protruding
dart. For an instant he hesitated; then taking the direction indicated
by the slanting missile, he flung an arm toward Stumpy's crew and
howled:
"There's the dog! There's the sudden death! Tear 'em up, bullies! Pull
Stumpy down!"
In an instant the grove seethed with a terrific conflict, in which
Stumpy's party was set upon by three times the number. And John Pearse
was carried into the thick of the fight; unwilling or not, his skilled
rapier began to take toll of the roaring furies about him. And while the
battle raged, and Dolores stood calmly looking on, one of the pirates
whose duties had kept him at the anchorage of the schooner appeared with
a rush upon the scene and shouted:
"Lads, ye're being fooled! The slaves are even now taking the treasure
down to the schooner!"