CHAPTER XIX.
JACK AND HARRY GIRDWOOD AFLOAT--THE SQUALL--THE SHIPWRECKEDBOY--DEEDS OF HEROISM--THEIR REWARD--A DEADLY PERIL.
"Down with sail, Jack; we shall be over if we are not sprightly," saidHarry.
Young Jack laughed.
The thought of danger actually made him merry, and so proved that hewas every inch a Harkaway--a thorough chip of the old block.
"There's no fear, old fellow," he said.
A sudden gust of wind caught the sail, and caused the boat to give sucha lurch at this very moment that both the boys were sent flying.
They got some hard knocks.
But neither was afraid of a little rough usage, and so they onlyscrambled to their feet, laughing boisterously, as if there was greatfun in barked shins and bruised arms.
"I told you so, Jack," said Harry Girdwood.
"No harm done," retorted Jack, rubbing a damaged part and grinning.
"No, but don't let us be too foolish; we might get into trouble."
Young Jack roared at this.
"Soho-ho!" he cried. "Shipped another passenger, Harry, have you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why, you've got Captain Funk aboard."
"Not I," returned Harry, "only if we get into any foolish scrape, theywon't let us come out for a sail again, and as this is the only jauntleft us, we may as well keep ourselves quiet."
"There's something in that," said young Jack,
So saying, he set about reefing the sail with all possible despatch.
Now it was barely accomplished when a violent gust of wind drove thelittle craft along at a furious rate.
It was only just in time.
A moment more and the sail would have been shredded, or, what was stillworse, the boat would have been capsized for a certainty.
Harry Girdwood lowered the oars and pulled sharply along before thefury of the gale, while young Jack baled out a little water that hadbeen shipped in the first heavy lurch, before the youthful mariners hadbeen fully prepared for such violent treatment, and steered at the sametime.
In this way they contrived to elude the violence of the gale for thepresent, at least.
But the danger was by no means overcome.
They had not got through the worst of their trouble as yet, little asthey anticipated any serious danger.
The gale had come on with strange suddenness, and the truth was thatthey could hardly realize the extent of their danger.
It was great.
There was, perhaps, a special providence in their ignorance of theirreal peril, for their coolness alone gave them any chance in thepresent emergency.
They were brave boys both--never were there braver--yet it is nodisparagement of them to say that there was very great probability oftheir losing their _sang froid_ if they had known how verycritical their position actually was.
As it happened, they did the very best thing to do under thecircumstances.
They kept their boat before the wind, and by vigorous rowing, theycontrived to drive along at a rate which was literally tremendous.
And so on they scudded for about ten miles, when the wind dropped alittle, and the pace began to tell upon them both.
"Keep her off shore, Jack," cried Harry Girdwood.
"Right."
The wind and rain had half blinded young Jack, and although he had said"Right," he steered decidedly wrong.
He could not see where they were going.
"Look out!"
Harry Girdwood only just spoke in time for young Jack to take heed ofthe warning, for a minute later and they shot past some sharp, jaggedrocks, into which they would inevitably have dashed but for a lucky tugat the rudder at the very last moment.
Now the roar of the wind and waters had just begun to lull a little,when a loud cry for help was heard.
And then, for the first time, they perceived that a boat had just beenlaunched by a boy at not more than thirty yards along the beach, andbeing carried out to sea by a huge receding wave, had becomeunmanageable.
They could see with half an eye that the boy had no skill in handling aboat.
"Help, help!" cried the strange lad, waving his hand in distresstowards their boat.
"All right," shouted young Jack. "We're there."
Harry Girdwood pulled vigorously towards the venturesome youth.
A few strokes brought them within twenty feet of the imperilled youth,and he would have been got away in safety but for his own folly andimprudence.
"Sit still," shouted young Jack. "Sit still."
"He'll be overboard," ejaculated Harry, glancing over his shoulder.
The words of the latter proved but too prophetic
A cry from young Jack--a piercing shriek from the other boat.
When Harry Girdwood glanced over his shoulder again, he saw the otherboat, keel upwards, floating away.
The unfortunate youth, its late occupant, was nowhere to be seen.
"He's gone!"
"He has," cried young Jack, starting up, "and by all that's unlucky, hecan't swim. Pull on, pull hard. Pull for mercy's sake."
And young Jack stood up in the boat, tearing off his jacket andwaistcoat.
"What are you after?"
"I'm in after him."
"Jack, Jack, you'll never live in this heavy sea."
"Never fear, old boy, I'll try."
"You shall not, I say. You--"
"Here goes," cried young Jack.
And before Harry Girdwood could interfere, over he went, head first,into the boiling waves.
Harry Girdwood held his breath in sheer fright.
He shipped his oars and peered over the boat's side.
Where was he?
Would he never come up?
Oh, Heaven! what a fearful time it seemed that the intrepid boy wasunder water.
It seemed an age.
In reality it was but a minute, no more, before young Jack struck up tothe surface.
He struck out with one hand--the other grasped something.
"Harry."
"Yes, Jack."
"I've got him."
"Hold tight."
"I mean to," responded young Jack, with great coolness, all thingsconsidered.
And now Harry could see that Jack's left hand was twined in the blackflowing hair of the half senseless boy.
The latter had no sooner reached the air and gulped down a breath ortwo greedily, than consciousness came partly back, and he threw hisarms about his preserver and struggled desperately.
"Leave go," cried young Jack. "Let go, or we shall both go downtogether."
But it is not easy to reason with a drowning man.
Young Jack found himself now in a desperate strait indeed.
The frantic efforts of the rescued boy impeded his movements, entirelybaffling the heroic Jack's best efforts.
Harry Girdwood saw it all, and his terror increased every moment.
Well it might.
The mad struggles of the stranger imperilled both.
"Dive, Jack, dive," cried Harry Girdwood, frantically; "dive with him,or it is all up with both of you."
Jack heard him.
Twisting like an eel in the embrace of the boy he would save, he diveddown, dragging the stranger with him.
In the space of a few seconds he reappeared again upon the surface,observing his former tactics.
Striking out with his right arm, while with his left hand he graspedthe stranger's long black hair.
"Catch hold of him," gasped young Jack; "never mind me."
Harry Girdwood leant over the boat's side and caught at the stranger bythe collar.
"There; hold on like that," said young Jack.
The weight coming all upon one side of the boat, however, threatened tocapsize it, and so they had to act with the greatest precaution.
Young Jack, however, struck out and swam round the boat, so that hisweight, clinging upon the further side of the boat, served to steady itwhile Harry Girdwood compl
eted the rescue of the stranger.
"Bravo!" cried young Jack.
"It was a tough job," said Harry.
"And a narrow squeak for all of us."
"Right; but let's look after this poor fellow. He's alive."
"Yes."
"I'm glad of that; it would have been precious hard after all the work,not to mention the risk run, to have let him slip his cable in spite ofus."
"Well, it is not his fault that he's alive now."
"Alive." quoth young Jack, "by George! He looks more dead than alive asit is."
"Don't fear for him, Jack; he's as good as twenty dead men so far, buthow are you getting on?"
"Hearty. Rather damp outside, nothing more."
"And inside?"
"Damp too. Why, I shipped a bellyful of salt water last drop down;enough to salt a barrel of junk."
Harry turned his attention to the stranger.
"He keeps insensible a very long time," he said to young Jack; "itbegins to look serious."
"Move the scat," said young Jack, "and let us lay him flat down uponhis back at the bottom of the boat. I have always heard that that isthe proper thing to do."
No sooner said than done.
Presently they were rewarded for their pains by detecting a faintbreathing.
"How white his neck is," said Harry Girdwood.
"And how small and delicate his hands," said young Jack.
"One would almost take him for a woman."
"He'd pass very well for one if he wore petticoats."
"I'm almost inclined as it is to think that--"
"Ha! He's coming round."
The youth opened his eyes and stared about him.
He looked half scared at first one and then the other.
"You are better now," said young Jack, taking his hand.
He stared.
Jack had spoken in English in his anxiety.
He put the same sentiment into the best Greek he could muster.
"Yes, yes," replied the stranger, "better, better," and then heappeared to grow more and more confused; "but what is this? Have I beenill?"
"Yes."
"Ah!"
"Not very; it is all well now. Don't you remember--"
The rocking of the boat furnished the missing link in the chain ofmemory, and the rescued boy showed, by a ray of intelligence in hisbright face, that it had all come back to him.
A smile of grateful acknowledgment of their services shot over hiscountenance.
Then suddenly his expression changed.
"Where are we going?" he demanded, with the most extraordinaryeagerness.
"Ashore."
"Oh, no, no, no!" he exclaimed; "not ashore here."
"Why not?"
"You must not go ashore here," said the youth, eagerly, "not forworlds."
"Why?"
Jack was questioning the stranger while Harry Girdwood shot the boatinto a favourable creek.
Harry jumped out.
"Come along," he said cheerfully.
"Safe on shore."
"And precious glad of it," added young Jack.
The stranger looked upon him in anxious expectation, and finding theywere alone, he turned eagerly to his young preservers.
"Put off again," he said; "put out to sea, I tell you."
"Why?"
"You have disarmed me; you have saved my life and shown me tendernessand care--aye, brotherly love. Oh," he added earnestly, "pray go now;at once, while you are free."
"Well," quoth young Jack, with a long whistle, "this is a rum go."
Before another word could be spoken, there was heard a whistle, whichsounded like the echo of young Jack's note; an answer came from anotherdirection, and half-a-dozen men sprang forward from no one could seewhere, and pounced upon our two bold boys, Jack and Harry Girdwood.
"Bravo, Theodora!" cried a familiar voice in English, "you play thepart of decoy to perfection. We have got them at last."
Young Jack started.
He turned pale and haggard, looking in a moment to Harry.
"Do you know that voice?"
"I do," replied Harry Girdwood.
"We are sold, undone. It is the villain Hunston."
* * * * *
It was but a little while after young Jack and Harry Girdwood had beenentrapped, when a strange scene took place.
Evening was coming on.
Brigand sentinels had been posted at each path by which their hauntcould be approached, and one was perched high above on a flat rock,which overlooked everything, without having seen himself except by thevery sharpest of eyes.
Hunston, after visiting the outposts and seeing that everything wassafe for the night, climbed up to this spot, and seated himself on alarge stone.
He felt feverish, and at that elevation he might feel something of thebreeze, a thing unknown down below at the bivouac, which was closelysurrounded by thick bushes.
Strange dreads and doubts filled Hunston's mind, dread of the future,dread of a lingering illness through his arm, which daily grew worse,dread of death, which he felt convinced must be the end, and doubtswhether eventually his enemy Harkaway would not triumph.
For Hunston's hatred of Harkaway knew no abatement; living or dying,the same fierce, unquenchable thirst after vengeance would fill hissoul.
But what troubled him most now was his health.
The shoulder to which the mechanical arm was attached was so painful,it could scarcely bear the pressure of the clothing he wore; the bloodin his veins, after flowing through that part of the system, seemed toreturn to his heart heated almost to boiling point, but that heat didnot stimulate him to exertion.
On the contrary, he felt languid and scarcely able to do the dutiesthat devolved upon him as Toro's lieutenant.
Nor was his brain so clear as in former days.
Ideas he had in plenty, but they seemed to jostle and confuse eachother in their endeavours to settle down into a connected train ofthought.
Emmerson's vengeance was working.
As he sat there, the sentinel remained motionless, leaning on hiscarbine and peering over the edge of the precipice.
Presently Diana, the widow of Mathias, came up the rock, and Hunstonrose to greet her.
"Your husband is to a certain extent avenged," said he.
"How?"
"Harkaway's boy is in our power,"
"That is something, at all events. That girl Theodora, the niece ofTomaso, has done her work well. Vengeance has commenced."
"Yes, but--"
"But what?"
"There is a hitch in the proceedings. The girl is softhearted, andbegged hard for their lives."
"She is a fool! By Heaven, I am half inclined to do the deed myselfwith this dagger."
"In which case Toro would probably do for you."
"What, is he turned craven?"
"No; but he is sweet on Theodora, and for her sake is inclined to sparethem."
Hunston knew well enough that all this was false, as, unless certainconditions were promptly complied with, Toro would certainly kill bothof them without the slightest hesitation or compunction.
But he did not tell Diana.
"But," he continued, "what is your idea of vengeance?"
"I would wring other hearts as mine has been wrung. I would causeblinding tears to dim the brightness of other eyes besides mine. Iwould cause the stern judge Death to pass a decree of divorce uponothers besides myself and Mathias. When Harkaway is a widower, or hiswife a widow, then I shall consider my vengeance partly accomplished."
"Humph! for a woman you are tolerably moderate. I shall not besatisfied till the Harkaways and the Harveys are destroyed root andbranch-till the other accursed detective, Nabley, his American friendJefferson, the negroes, the wooden-legged ass Mole, till every one ofthe party is swept away out of my path. Harkaway taught me to hate, andI swear by all the eternal powers of earth, heaven, and hell, he shallsee how I have profited by the lesson.
"
Diana was silent for a few moments; then, with something like a sneer,said--
"You are a brave man--in words, Signor Hunston."
"My acts speak for themselves."
"And little have they said for some time past. But listen; I have sworna deep and deadly revenge."
"Well."
"This evening I depart."
"Good."
"When I return again, you may expect to hear that Harkaway is dead orhis wife."
The excited woman glided away, and Hunston, after smoking a cigarette,followed her.
"Good?" chuckled Hunston to himself, "I could not have a better allythan that woman; for she can go where I dare not show myself, and willfind opportunities for carrying out her plans unsuspected. Beware,Harkaway! for though I have waited years for revenge, it is now withinmy grasp."