A long, rapturous kiss, and a kiss that came nigh betraying them.
Fortunately, it had ended before anyone was near enough to bear witness
to it, or blight its sweetness by rude interruption.
The lovers were about taking leave of each other, their arms were once
more free, and they were arranging the time and place for another
interview, when the quick ear of the young man, attuned to take notice
of suspicious sounds, was caught by one that appeared to be of this
character.
It was a rustling among the canes that bordered the creek, with now and
then their culms crackling together as if something--man or animal--was
making way through them.
The sounds proceeded from a point at some distance; but, as the lovers
stood listening, they could tell that, whatever made them, was drawing
nearer.
And soon they saw that they were not made by an animal, nor yet by a
man, but by several men, who, under the clear light of the moon, could
be seen approaching the spot.
And it could be seen, too, that they were not coming on openly and
boldly, like men bent on an honest errand, but skulking along the edge
of the creek, here and there crouching under the cane, whose thin growth
only partially concealed them. The noise they made was inadvertent.
They were not making more than they could help, and, if there was any
talk between them, it must have been in whispers, as no words were heard
by the two standing under the tree.
For them it was too late to retreat unobserved.
They might have done so at first; but not now. The skulkers were too
near, and any attempt to get away from the spot would expose the lovers
under the full light of the moon.
Their only chance to remain undiscovered was to keep within the shadow
of the tree.
Not long before, this, too, appeared doubtful; as they now saw that the
dark forms advancing along the edge of the stream must pass close to
where they stood--so close as to see them in spite of the obscurity.
Who the cautious travellers were, or what their designs, neither had the
slightest idea. But it mattered not what. Enough for the lovers to
know that they were in danger of being surprised, and under
circumstances to cause them chagrin.
What was to be done? The skulkers were coming on. They would soon be
under the tree!
The returned gold-seeker had taken the young girl on his arm--partly
with the idea of protecting her should any rudeness he attempted, and
partly to inspire her with courage.
He was thinking whether it would not be the best for them to step boldly
out and show themselves in the open light. It would less expose them to
ridicule, though the lateness of the hour--it was now after midnight--
would still render them liable to that. A young lady and gentleman--
they had markedly this appearance--indulging in a moonlight stroll at
nigh one o'clock of the morning, were not likely to escape scandal if
seen.
What was to be done?
At this moment a happy thought came up to answer the question. It
flashed simultaneously through the minds of both. Both remembered the
cavity in the tree; and without a word to one another--both acting under
the same impulse--they glided inside, and stood in shadow dark as the
dungeon itself!
They had scarce time to compose themselves ere the party of intruders
came up, and stopped right under the tree. To their chagrin they saw
this. They had hoped that such early travellers might be bent upon some
distant journey, and that once past the spot they would be themselves
free to continue their affectionate leave-taking.
They soon perceived that this was not to be. The new comers had halted
close up to the trunk, directly in front of the cavity, and although
enveloped in deep shadow their figures were distinguishable from the
deeper shadow that surrounded the two spectators. Either of these could
have touched them by stretching forth a hand!
Neither had thoughts of doing this. On the contrary, they stood
motionless as marble, both silently striving to keep back their breath.
Six figures there were--six men--several of them carrying implements, at
first taken for guns, but which, on more prolonged scrutiny, proved to
be spades and shovels. From the way they were manipulating these tools
it was evident they intended making use of them, and on the spot!
The occupants of the tree-cave where puzzled by these preparations. For
what were they going to dig?
The blood of both ran cold at the thought of its being a _grave_. And
both had it. What else could they have thought? Six men, armed with
excavating implements, at that unearthly time of the night!
And a secret grave, too, for the body of some one whom they had
murdered! Else why their stealthy movements, and their talking in low
tones, scarce louder than a whisper?
Who could they be? And what their purpose?
These were the questions that came before the minds of Pierre Robideau
and Lena Rook, only in thought; they dared not interrogate one another
even in whispers. They stood silent, watching the development of
events.
"Where can the darned thing be?" asked one of the men, stooping down,
and apparently searching for something along the grass. "Who of ye
remembers the spot?"
"A little farther out, I think," answered a voice that caused Lena Rook
to start, and take hold of Pierre's hand. "About here. Yes, here it
is. I can feel the lumps upon the turf."
The speaker appeared to be groping the ground with his feet.
"Alf Brandon!" whispered the girl, with her lips close to her
companion's ear.
The others gathered around the spot indicated by Brandon.
Two who carried spades commenced digging, while a like number of
shovel-men followed, throwing out the loose earth.
"Wonder how deep the old skunk has buried him?" asked one.
"Not very deep, I reck'n. Jerry Rook's too lazy to a dug far down.
We'll soon come to it."
These were the voices of Bill Buck and Slaughter, the hotel-keeper,
recognised by Lena Rook, though not by her companion.
"Do you think there's a coffin?" inquired one who had not yet spoken.
It was Spence.
"No," answered another new speaker, recognised as Lawyer Randall, "I
should say not. The old squatter wasn't likely to take that trouble for
such a creature as Choc, and, as the fellow had no other friends, I
think you'll find him in his deerskin shirt--that is, if Jerry harn't
taken the pains to strip him."
"The shirt wasn't worth it," remarked a sixth speaker, who was the
store-keeper, Grubbs.
"The six who hanged you, Pierre!" whispered the girl to him by her side.
"The very same!"
Pierre made no reply. He was too much occupied in endeavouring to
interpret the strange talk, and comprehend the singular scene passing
before him.
"It's getting hard down here," said one of the spadesmen. "Seems to me
I've touched bottom."
"Old Jerry must have tramped him tight down," remarked another, adding a
slight laugh.
"Don't speak so loud, boys!" commanded Brandon. "Look at the house,
'tisn't twenty yards off, and there's a weasel in it that seldom sleeps.
If we're heard, you know what'll follow. Keep silent, it may save each
of you a hundred dollars a-year."
At this appeal the diggers turned their eyes towards the house; but only
to give a cursory glance, and back to the ground again.
Lena Rook looked longer in that direction, for there was the man she
most feared--her father.
Intimately acquainted with the precincts of the dwelling, and, of
course, better able to tell if anything was stirring, she saw--what had
escaped the notice of the body-stealers--the front door standing open!
It should have been shut; for, on coming out, she had carefully closed
it behind her!
She had scarce made the discovery when she saw a figure in the doorway,
that, after standing a moment as if to reconnoitre and listen, stole out
into the porch, and then, stealthily descending the steps, glided
crouchingly towards the cover of the orchard. Only for a moment was it
under the moonlight; but the young girl had no difficulty in recognising
the form of her father!
Something in his hands glistened in the moonlight. It appeared to be a
gun.
Pierre's attention is called to it by a significant pressure on his arm.
Pierre also saw the flitting figure and knew whose it was.
The weasel, as Alf Brandon termed him, had not been asleep!
And just like a weasel he had acted; in sight only for six seconds, as
he shot across the open space between the porch and the peach trees.
Once among these, he was invisible to the only eyes that had seen him,
those of his daughter and Pierre Robideau.
But both expected soon to see him again. He had not gone into the
orchard for nothing, and his cat-like movements told that he had
suspicion of something astir under the cottonwood, and was stealing
round by the creek to approach it unobserved.
Whether he yet saw the excavators could not be known, but he must have
heard the clinking of their tools as he stood in the doorway.
Not one of them either heard or saw him, as, without pausing, they
continued their work, Brandon having once again counselled them to
silence.
"Darned if 'taint the bottom! I told you so," said Bill Buck, striking
his spade point against the ground under his feet. "Thar's been neyther
pick nor spade into this not since the days of old Noah, I reckon.
There! try for yourself, Alf Brandon!"
Brandon took the implement offered, and struck it upon the space already
stripped, and sunk some eighteen inches below the surface. The ring was
that of solid earth that had never been disturbed by a spade.
He tried it in several places, all of which gave back the same sound!
"Clear out the loose mould!" commanded he.
This was done, and once more was the test applied.
"There's no grave there," remarked Randall.
"Nor body," said Spence.
"Not so much as a bone," added Buck; "no, nor never has been. Dog-gone
my cats, if old Rook hasn't been humbuggin' us!"
"Ha-ha! He--he--he--he!"
The sounds thus represented were intended for a laugh, that came from
the other side of the tree, and in a voice that did not belong to any of
the excavating party.
Whatever mirth may have been in the man who uttered them, it failed to
communicate itself to any of the six grave-diggers, all of whom,
startled at the strange noise, stood staring wildly around them.
If the body for which they had been searching had suddenly appeared in
their midst, and given utterance to that unearthly cachination, they
could not have been more astonished.
And their astonishment lasted until a man, well known to them, stepped
from behind the tree, and discovered himself in the clear moonlight.
"Jerry Rook, by the Eternal!"