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Show By ELLERY H. CLAR.il Copyright 19? by Bobba-Merrfn Co. j CHAPTER XIII Continued 18 Immediately I groped about me with outstretched hands. On three sides jolid earth ; but on the fourth, at about (j.e level of my waist, I encountered er-ipty space, and for the first time I experienced a gleam of hope. Clearly It vas a case of hands and knees, and, tclliag Helen to follow, I dropped on all frurs. and without the faintest idea of whether our venture meant life or death, I began crawling along th tunnel. I had often read, in old romances, of the mysterious charm of underground primages, but this was not the kind I had encountered in books. It was snkle deep in mud and water, which iras unpleasant enough in Itself, and In addition to this I began to fear that he earth might collapse above us. and juddered at the thought of such a fate. Vet any port in a storm, as the saying Is, and I felt that whatever we were destined to undergo could be no worse than the seemingly certain death we had left behind. presently, after what appeared like tn interminable time, but which was. I suppose, in reality only a few minutes. min-utes. I suddenly encountered solid earth ahead, and, judging that this must mark the end of the passage, 1 frToped above us. pushed upward on the wood that met my hands, and the next Instant clear starlight, never more welcome, shone down upon us. A secnnd later we were scrambling up the sides of the narrow opening, to find our-elves again above the earth, vith the night air blowing fresh and end upon our faces. I knew at once where we were in the e'earing anion'.; the mangroves where McAllister had crept to view his treasure, find had nearly met his death at the hands of the ttinnt ape. Ev this time it was pitch dnrk urmind us: moonrise was still far off: erd accordingly we crept back a little d'stitice from the clearing, and, mak-lr2 mak-lr2 ourselves as comfortable as pos-Fihln. pos-Fihln. proceeded to await developments. ,'nd now. for the first time. I had a chance to consider our position, and to lA worrier whether or not we had bet- 'ered ourselves by our flight. In one way. of course, I myself had greatly benefited, for I was. at least, still alive. But heyond that the outlook seemed fl'ih'ous. I had shown McAllister that I was not his nephew ; had admitted my deceit by running away. Nor was this the worst of it, fo.- Helen, through her couraee and quickness of wit. ti.'.sV .loinod her fortunes irrevocably with mine. And how we were now to escane from the island and reach th mouth of the river, where Barclay awaited us, was more than I could tee. The hours dragged on. From the rber, to the westward, we could hear, (mm time to time, the sound of low voices and the splash of oars. Clearly the slaves' would1 attack from that nnnrter also. From the plantation, on the east, rose the yellinc and shouting of the avengers, and presently the light of o huse bonfire flared against the 'y, then died away, and darkness Benin enshrouded the world. "Helen," I whispered, "this tunnel Is McAllister's last resort his refuzo In emergency. That Is plain as day. It's a means of escape from the island. iid where there's a burrow there must he a boat. I'll go to the north, you to the south: If you find anything call to me, hut softly, on your life." Without another word we separated, nnd I becnn groping my way through the tangle, but had not gone. I think "inre than fifty feet when I heard Helen's Hel-en's low call. and. retracing my steps with all possible speed, found her standing by a little inlet in the swamp, while before us. In the darkness, we miild discern the dim outlines of two boats, one a small canoe, the other perhaps thirty feet long, built on the lines of a whalehoat. and capable of holding n dozen men. To handle this latter craft was. of course, beyond our rowers, and accordingly I lost no time In launching the canoe through mud nnd slime, until she lay ready at the very entrance to the river. And then, despite the danger, a sudden reckless thought flashed through my mind The treasure chest ! Who could foretell fore-tell the future? The slaves might Permanently possess and guard the Island. This might be the last chance to secure the gold and gems. And thus, with a hurried whisper to Helen. I sped back to the big boat, found the Rrapple In the how, and. making my ffn" to the familiar spot where I had saved the life of McAllister, I used my novel spade to such advantage that within rive minutes I had returned to 'he canoe, and had placed the small hut heavy chest safely aboard. And now I prayed for darkness. But while the whole eastern sky was imrred with clouds, tse moon had so f"r managed to evad, them, and continued con-tinued 'o shed her light upon Island and river. And presently, as we waited. wait-ed. In a fever of impatience. It became evident that the attack upon the fortress for-tress had at last begun. From the 'astward came a tumult of frenzied homing, the beating of drums, the crack" 1 crack! crack I of rifles and pis-,0's; pis-,0's; while from the mangroves, close ' hand, Cro-tipped arrows soared up ward, curved and descended upon the roof of the house. To me the course of events seemed plain. The garrison, hopelessly outnumbered, would either be massacred at their posts, or, taking tak-ing to the tunnel and emerging among the mangroves, would add. to the dangers dan-gers of our predicament. "We must risk it," I crid, and even as the words left my Hps. the moon as If iu eclipse was suddenly engulfed in cloud. Our chance had come! In an instant we were aboard, had shoved the canoe clear of the maDgroves and the next moment had begun our journey toward the sea. Whether our adventures were ended, or were only just beginning, it was hard to say. Behind us the tumult seemed to have slackened, but whether this meant victory or defeat for McAllister McAl-lister we could not tell. A boat in our path was our greatest dread, and I was so busy peering forward through the blackness that I bad no thoughts for anything else until, after twenty minutes of steady progress, and with the mouth of the river near at hand. Helen suddenly stopped paddling, and turned her head. "Hark !" she whispered. whis-pered. I sat motionless, paddle suspended in midair. Instantly I became aware of the unmistakable sound of oars, and again my heart sank like lead. Up, and then down, had flowed and ebbed the tide of our hopes and fears, and now to be caught with safety almost in our grasp it was too much to be borne. Without a word, we bent to our paddles again with a will, and no longer keeping a lookout for imasinary dangers, we made the canoe fairly bod through the water. And then, all at once, the moon shone forth through a rift in the clouds, and to my horror I heard, behind us. a wild yell from our pursuers. One hurried glance told me all I wished to know; it was the whalehoat. with half a dozen maroons at the oars, and in the bow, rifle in hand, the wizened figure of McAllister. McAllis-ter. Whole-heartedly I cursed myself for not leaving the treasure. Only one hope remained. I had agreed to meet Barclay in the evening, and It was now close to daylight, yet if his patience had lasted, and lie was still lying off the mouth of the river, all might yet be well. Once more the moon was engulfed In clouds, suddenly effacing our pursuers in the gloom, and a minute later the long, slow heave from the ocean told us that we had passed the limits of the river, and were fairly on the sea. Presently, not far ahead of us, something some-thing loomed faintly through the haze, and for an instant my heart leaped with the belief that it was the longboat, long-boat, but a moment later, as we drew swiftly nearer; I perceived that it was but one of the many sandy islets that fringed the shore, barren, save for a clump of reeds In the center. Had our pursuers been fewer in number, we might have beached the canoe and taken refuge, for a last stand, in the reeds: but, with a half-dozen assailants, assail-ants, doubtless fully armed, our rifle and our two pistols would scarcely have sufficed. And so, like hares harried har-ried by a falcon, we swept out to sea. Nearer and nearer drew the whalehoat. whale-hoat. I could hear McAllister shrieking shriek-ing imprecations, nnd could imagine that the loss of the treasure must have driven him nearly mad. I felt sure that he was within range of us. and wondered why he did not shoot, until I reflected that if he shot nnd wounded me. I might, in my struggles, upset the canoe and lose the treasure. Pouhtless It was this thought that stayed his hand. Wild plans darted through my brain. I might stop paddling, poise the chest over the side, and demand our lives In payment for Its safety. But how make McAllister keep his word? FMainly a crisis of some sort was close at hand, and In desperation I had laid down my paddle and reached for my rifle, when all at once I heard a hail, and as the moon once more emersred from its dark barrier I saw a sight that I shall never forget the longboat of the Black Tanther shooting out from the cove where it had lain concealed, four men bending their sturdy backs at the oars, and In the stern the familiar figures of Burford and of Captain Barclay. Bar-clay. In an Instant the whole aspect of nft'airs had changed. I imagined, at first, that McAilister would stand nnd fight, but I think tint to his guilty conscience con-science there mus have been something some-thing terrifying as well as supernatural supernatu-ral in Barclay's sudden appearance upon the scene, for almost immediately immediate-ly the bow of the whalehoat swung toward the Islet, the maroons putting forth all their strength in an effort to gain the protection of the reeds. Was the stranger anion; them. I wondered. I could see no sign of him. and suspected sus-pected (what I found, long afterward, to he the truth) that he. with Bill and Quamino. and three more maroons, bad fallen in the attack upon the fortress, thus meeting, by the whim of fate, a tragic death in a quarrel not his own. A second later the longboat swept' alongside of us. and I shall never forget for-get the captain's courtly bow to He'.en. Yt this was no time for ceremony, and he said quietly. "Are you with us, Richard? I think we may have need of you." I did not hesitate did not answer, even but sprang at once into the longboat's bow. Even Helen and I blush to say it was for the instant a secondary thought. This was a man's fight, and In it I meant to play my part. : A wave of farewell, and we were speeding toward the island. Looking aft, I could see that the captain's gaze never left his quarry, and that his dark face gleamed with exultation. "The Black Tanther" even in these tense and thrilling moments I realized the aptness of the phrase. Nearer and nearer we came until at length our bow found its resting place in the smooth sand. Beside us lay the whaleboat. careened upon its side, as the fugitives had left it. No trace of them was to be seen : only the level sweep of the sand, and a hundred yards away the dark and sinister outline out-line of the reeds, among which our foe-men foe-men lay concealed. There was no dallying, dal-lying, no delay. So well did Barclay's followers know their savage game that he had no need of wasting words. "Take him alive!" was his one command. com-mand. Then, out of kindness to an unskilled hand he assigned me to a Instantly a Bent but Wiry Figure Leaped Forward. place on the left of the line, and told me briefly : "Keep your distance from the man next you; when I give the word to charge, run crouched and leap from side to side. And above all, hold your fire. The light is had. Cold steel will tell the tale." An instant later we were advancing toward the ambush, traversing perhaps per-haps half the distance in perfect silence. si-lence. Then I heard Barclay's trumpet trum-pet voice, "Charge !" and mindful of his counsel. I bent double, and went leaping, zigzag fashion, up the beach. No sound came from the reeds, and I began to feel a hot resentment, as though they were not giving us h chance for our lives, when suddenly two flashes of flame seared the darkness, dark-ness, and the man to right of me pitched forward, gave a twist or two, and then lay still. On we swept, and had nearly reached the edge of the ambuscade before we got the rest of their volley, almost, as it seemed, in our faces. Sometimes, as I look back upon it. It appears strange that they dld not annihilate us; but. to the other band, fate was against them. For one thing, the light eof.d not have been worse, and they ere drawing bead on moving objer' almost as black as the night its" f. Moreover. : they had already undergone one desperate des-perate fight, and had, on top of that, . rowed themselves almost to the point of exhaustion, so that their fingers must have been unsteady on the trigger. trig-ger. Again, something. I think, cf their leader's panic must have communicated commu-nicated Itself to the superstitious blacks. And. last of all. your mercenary, merce-nary, no matter how brave, can never hope to fight like the man who battles for his own hand. In any event, their volley did us little damage, and the next Instant they had leaped up from their hiding places and had received our fire in return. And then we closed. All that followed was blurred and distorted, like an ugly dream. The flash of pistols, the gleam of steel, dark forms meeting hand to hand It was all bewildering and unreal. I was conscious that Barclay was raging like a lion among the foe; I heard oaths and cries of pain; but, unskilled as I was In such warfare, It seemed as though I should be of small assistance, assist-ance, until finally, more through accident acci-dent than design, I was drawn into the very center of the fray. Barclay, with his enemy almost within his reach, had struck down the man who guarded him, but the maroon, in his death agony, gripped the captain's foot, and nearly brought him to the ground. Instantly a bent but wiry figure leaped forward, a knife flashed high, and I saw, to my horror, that It was McAllister. I still grasped my empty rifle in my hand, and more quickly than I have ever acted before or since. I clubbed it and dealt McAllister McAl-lister such a blow that it crashed through his guard and sent his knife spinning through the air, my gun stock fairly splintering his skull. In a fraction of a second Barclay had wrenched himself free, and was bending over his enemy. I was aware of sudden silence about us. The conflict con-flict was ended; not one of our adversaries adver-saries was left alive. Barclay, rising, replaced his knife In his belt and turned to me with a half-rueful shake of his head. "Kichard." he said. "I would that your strength were less. You have both given and taken away. You have saved my life, but you have robbed me of my revenge." I did not answer him. for now. that the fight was over, my thoughts sped swiftly back to Helen. Every moment the light was growing clearer, and I could see that she was paddling swiftly swift-ly toward the Island. Presently Barclay Bar-clay came nearer and laid his hand on my shoulder, and I saw that he too was gazing eastward. A great etiange had come over his face; he looked like a man awakening from a dream. "Richard." he said, "I'm glad It's over. For all this time, night and day. I've thought only of revenge. Now we must look ahead. You and your lass are safe; you'll marry, and then hear away to the north'ard. When this trouble with the hlacks Is over, I'll take charge of the plantation, nnd treat them as I'd like to be treated In their place. Then there's the treasure treas-ure we must get that." I pointed to the approaching canoe. "It's there," I answered, "nnd at your service." His clasp on my shoulder tightened. "I thank you, Richard," he said. "This treasure, then, for me. and for Bur-ford Bur-ford and my men. But I will give you the bearings, and when you come to Straitsmouth. the other chest will he for you and your bride." Later I was to appreciate the munificence mu-nificence of his gift, but at the moment mo-ment I think I hardly understood. For tl'.e canoe had almost readied the shore, and I started swiftly down the beach. The night was paling, an-' to the eastward, far beyond the hills clouds, tinned with rose, foretold the coming of the dawn. (THE END) |