A DARK NIGHT’S WORK.
Carlos Conrad had lain on his bed all the afternoon in a state of
agitation which the opiates of Doctor Davison had not allayed.
Kate Heath’s declaration and semi-threat, Doctor Davison’s recognition
of him, and the subsequent disaster which seemed impending, had served
to render his mind active, alert, and unsusceptible to the influence of
any ordinary administration of medicine.
Evening approached, and the doctor, running in for a brief call, found
him sullen and uncommunicative. There was a contraction of his brow,
and an odd look in his dull eyes, that were well calculated to excite
apprehension.
And it was with increasing concern that Doctor Davison left him, not to
call again until the arrival of his brother, who was to act the part of
nurse, and who was expected on the night train.
At nine o’clock in the evening Carlos rose from his bed. On assuming
a standing posture, he at first staggered with dizziness, but quickly
recovered.
He was in a condition between sanity and delusion. He could not control
his movements――he felt himself led on by some irresistible force, and
yet he knew what he was doing, and was conscious that he was acting
rashly and imprudently. He kept muttering to himself:
“Yes, it must be done to-night――to-night is the time. No more miserable
delays――no more unbearable suspense. To-night I will go――to-night
shall the secret of Rocky Beach be penetrated. Am I in my right mind,
I wonder? I think not, and yet the way seems clear. Yes, the time for
action has come, and I’ll go forth to meet the enemy.”
His madness lent him strength and cunning. He was soon dressed, and he
stepped softly from his room into the passage. Through this he walked
rapidly, and thence down the stairs into the lower hall.
No one was in sight. He paused and made sure of this, for he had the
sense to know that he was ill, and that if any of the attendants of
the hotel should observe him they might prevent his going farther,
or follow him. He hastened to the outside door, and walked into the
cold air. In fact, they were grateful to his heated brow, and, with
refreshed, stimulated feeling, he bent his footsteps rapidly from the
hotel.
Notwithstanding his half delirious condition, he had a fixed definite
purpose, as was evinced by the promptness with which he proceeded in a
certain direction.
His route took him away from the business streets to the outskirts of
the village, and finally on a lonely country road.
The ground was a mass of mud, the rain fell steadily, the wind sighed
with a sluggish, disconsolate murmur, and the air was penetrating in
its dull chilliness.
Through the darkness, and the rain, and the gloom he walked steadily,
stumbling now and then, but recovering himself and hastening on.
For nearly two hours he continued his lonely tramp, and then on
reaching a certain point, he moved with sudden caution.
He was at Rocky Beach.
It was nearly eleven o’clock, and in the inky darkness nothing was
visible more than a few steps ahead, save the ocean, which stretched
away in gloomy expanse. The steadily falling rain, the rolling of the
waves, and the low murmur of the wind were the only sounds heard.
Listening and peering intently, and neither hearing nor seeing anything
that denoted the proximity of any living being, he groped his way
forward.
Suddenly a light appeared, seeming to come out of the solid, rocky
bluff. Carlos was nearer to the entrance of the cave than he had
supposed. He saw that the light was carried by a man, who was instantly
followed by another man, bearing another light. The two ascended an
eminence, and there remained motionless for a long time, holding their
lanterns.
Carlos drew a little nearer, and concealed himself behind a huge rock.
Here he watched and waited. If his journey was the result of a freak of
delirium, surely there was method in his madness, for he was cautious,
silent, and observant. He was wet to the skin, and his garments were
dripping. Perhaps there was some virtue in the “water-cure” treatment
he was receiving.
A considerable time elapsed, during which he remained quiet and
watchful, while the men with the lights waited patiently.
All at once the sound of some craft cutting through the water was heard,
and Carlos quickly turned his eyes in the direction from which it came.
Two boats, each with a small, dim head-light, were approaching the land.
They were moving slowly, with sails hoisted, and soon reached the shore.
Out of each sprang two men, carrying coils of rope, which they had made
fast to large, heavy stones lying a few feet back from the water.
The two who had remained stationed with the lanterns ran forward to
meet them, a few hurried words were exchanged, and forthwith ensued
a scene of busy occupation.
Packages, and boxes, and bales were taken from the boats, and carried
into the cavern. Three of the men occupied themselves in this way,
while the fourth promenaded the beach with his lantern, evidently
keeping a lookout for intruders. The other two had disappeared within
the cave, probably to receive and stow away the articles brought to
them.
The men worked rapidly and industriously, speaking but few words, and
those in low, indistinct tones.
All this Carlos watched from his place of concealment, withdrawing his
gaze only when he was obliged to crouch more closely under the shadow
of the rocks when the sentinel passed him at intervals.
The work went on for two hours or more, when suddenly there was a
new-comer on the scene. A tall man came from the cavern and stood idly
looking on.
The heart of Carlos bounded as he beheld him, for the form and carriage
were those of Geoffrey Haywood. The distance and the darkness rendered
his face indistinct, and it might be added also that he wore a mask,
although Carlos could not discern it. But he was certain that it was
Geoffrey Haywood, and his eyes remained riveted upon him.
At length the goods that had been brought in by the boats seemed to be
all disposed of. The men loitered around, wiping their brows. Then the
man whom Carlos believed to be Geoffrey Haywood stepped forward and
said a few words.
Carlos crept forward to get a better view of him. In his eagerness
he altogether abandoned the shelter of the rock under whose friendly
shelter he had remained in concealment, and, before he was fairly aware
of it, he was within a rod of the knot of men.
They all turned to go into the cavern, when a startling and terrifying
circumstance occurred.
A bright light suddenly burst forth from some unknown quarter above,
and cast a dazzling glare over the whole scene. The rocks, the boats,
the men, and even the pebbles on the beach were distinctly visible. At
the same instant a rocket shot high into the air, taking a course out
over the sea, and leaving a brilliant train of sparks.
The men uttered wild cries of amazement, and ran to and fro in
confusion. Carlos’ ♦surprise was equal to that of the smugglers, and
he rushed forward near them.
The light above, which was evidently on the summit of the cliff, shone
continuously, and with intense, steady brightness.
The three workers, the sentinel, and the man with the mask, all saw
Carlos, and rushed upon him. They evidently believed that he had some
hand in the startling phenomenon.
“Who are you? What do you want? How did you come here?” were questions
that showered upon him in mad, furious tones.
He was seized by the shoulders and arms, and held firmly.
“I know you, Geoffrey Haywood!” he shouted, in a wild frenzy. “You
arch-plotter, you thief, you smuggler!”
“Curses upon you,” ejaculated the masked man. “Oh! it’s Carlos Conrad!
Hold him, men! Do not let him escape. He’s a murderer! But where, in
the name of all the devils of ill-luck, did he come from?”
“You may well ask,” exclaimed Carlos, “for I have been watching you.
I have been at your heels for six months. And here you are, with your
gang of smugglers.”
“Hush!” hissed Haywood. “Gag him quick, somebody!”
There was a violent, brief struggle, and Carlos was temporarily
deprived of his power of speech.
“I don’t know as it is unlucky at all,” said Haywood, at length, and
in a calmer tone. “This is a spy, boys, and he must be taken care of.
There is no time to lose, for some deviltry is up. I wonder where that
infernal light comes from? Take him in one of the boats, and make for
the ♦ship with all speed. Don’t kill him. I want something of him.
Stand off at sea until to-morrow, and I’ll try and communicate with
you. If you can’t do any better, make for some port――New York, Norfolk,
Charleston――anywhere. But be off quick. Roake and I will see to the
goods.”
Haywood had delivered his directions in a hurried, excited tone, in
almost ludicrous contrast with his usual sedate manner, and, with the
last words, hurried into the cavern.
The four remaining men forced Carlos to accompany them to the shore and
into one of the boats. Here he was bound with ropes and flung into the
hold of the larger yacht.
The light from the cliff still shone with unabated brightness, casting
a glimmer over the sea, and giving to the crests of the waves a
scintillating brilliancy. The rain drizzled down, and the air had lost
nothing of its chilliness.
The sails of the yachts were hoisted, two men having taken possession
of each boat, and the four smugglers, with their prisoner, put out to
sea.
After a few moments one of the men removed the gag from Carlos’ mouth,
and said:
“Say, stranger, what’s the occasion of that blasted light on the bluff?”
“I haven’t the least idea,” answered Carlos.
“No gammon now.”
“I assure you I don’t know. I was as much surprised by it as you were,
or else you wouldn’t have taken me prisoner.”
“It’s mighty curious anyhow,” said the man, addressing his companion
rather than Carlos. “Some mischief’s afloat, and I’m afraid we’ll have
to do some pretty lively dodging to keep out of the way of the beaks.”
“The boss seemed to be pretty well cut up, didn’t he?” remarked the
other man.
“Yes; but he’s sharp, and I reckon he’ll put into a safe port and leave
no wake behind him.”
“They can search a month at Rocky Beach and discover nothing against us.
It’s a rum place for running in goods.”
“Yes; but I own I’ll feel considerably relieved when we are once aboard
ship and out at sea.”
Carlos heard this and other conversation with but little interest.
Strange visions began to flash before his eyes, and wild dreams flitted
through his brain. The strain upon his mind had been too much, and the
fever was returning with redoubled violence.
He was soon delirious again and he did not know when the yachts came
alongside the dark hull of an ocean steamer after having sailed some
two miles.
Neither was he conscious of being lifted up in a hammock, taken aboard
the vessel, carried below, and deposited in a bunk.
When he was thus disposed of, a crowd of villainous-looking men asked
eager questions, which were impatiently answered by the four who had
been ashore.
The command to put out to sea was given, and the huge engines were set
to working with all possible speed.
As the smugglers’ steamer got under way, the eyes of all on deck were
anxiously fixed on the light that still gleamed from the summit of the
bluff at Rocky Beach.
“It’s a powerful light,” said one.
“Yes. It looks like bad business for us. I’ll be glad when we’re out of
sight of it.”
At that instant a flash came out of the darkness but a short distance
ahead of the vessel, followed by the thundering report of a cannon.
A wild cry of alarm arose among the smugglers. They rushed hither and
thither in consternation, scarcely heeding the yells of their commander
to seize their arms and prepare for a struggle.
Another flash and report came, and a ball whizzed through the air over
the heads of the panic-stricken crew.
The commander roared and swore.
“Keep your wits about you, you hounds! Don’t run about like a pack of
frightened sheep. We never can be caught in this darkness. We can crowd
on all steam, dodge about, and be out of danger before morning.”