Read The Hot Swamp Page 2

shadowtill you return."

  There was a slight tremor in the voice, which showed that much of thegaiety of the young man was forced.

  "Nay, I have no mind to give you a lecture," returned Bladud, "I onlyask you to grant me two requests."

  "Granted, before mentioned, for you have ever been a reasonablecreature, Bladud, and I trust you to retain your character on thepresent occasion."

  "Well, then, my first request is that you will often remember the manytalks that you and I have had about the gods, and the future life, andthe perplexing conditions in which we now live."

  "Remember them," exclaimed Dromas with animation, "my difficulty wouldbe to forget them! The questions which you have propounded andattempted to answer--for I do not admit that you have been quitesuccessful in the attempt--have started up and rung in my ears at allkinds of unseasonable times. They haunt me often in my dreams--though,to say truth, I dream but little, save when good fellowship has led meto run supper into breakfast--they worry me during my studies, which,you know, are frequent though not prolonged; they come between me andthe worthy rhapsodist when he is in the middle of the most interesting--or least wearisome--passage of the poem, and they even intrude on me atthe games. The very last race I ran was lost, only by a few inches,because our recent talk on the future of cats caused a touch of internallaughter which checked my pace at the most critical moment. You mayrest assured that I cannot avoid granting your first request. What isyour second?"

  "That you promise to visit me in my home in Albion. You know that itwill be impossible for me ever again to re-visit these shores, where Ihave been so happy. My father, if he forgives my running away from him,will expect me to help him in the management of his affairs. But youhave nothing particular to detain you here--"

  "You forget--the old woman," interrupted Dromas gravely.

  "What old woman?" asked Bladud in surprise.

  "My mother!" returned his friend.

  The prince looked a little confused and hastened to apologise. Dromas'mother was one of those unfortunate people who existed in the olden timeas well as in modern days, though perhaps not so numerously. She was aconfirmed invalid, who rarely quitted her house, and was seldom seen byany one save her most intimate friends, so that she was apt to beforgotten--out of sight out of mind, then as now.

  "Forgive me, Dromas--," began Bladud, but his friend interrupted him.

  "I cannot forgive when I have nothing to forgive! Say no more aboutthat. But, now I come to consider of it, I grant your second requestconditionally. If my mother agrees to accompany me to Albion, you mayexpect to see me some day or other--perhaps a year or two hence. Yousee, since my father and brother were slain in the last fight with ourneighbours, I am the only one left to comfort her, so I cannot forsakeher."

  "Then this will be our final parting," returned Bladud, sadly, "for yourmother will never consent to leave home."

  "I don't know that," returned Dromas with a laugh. "The dear old soulis intensely adventurous, like myself, and I do believe would venture ona voyage to the Cassiterides, if the fancy were strong upon her. Youhave no idea how powerfully I can work upon her feelings. I won't saythat I can make much impression on her intellect. Indeed, I have reasonto know that she does not believe in intellect except as an unavoidabledoorway leading into the feelings. The fact is, I tried her the otherday with the future of cats, and do you know, instead of treating thatsubject with the gravity it merits, she laughed in my face and called menames--not exactly bad names, such as the gods might object to--butnames that were not creditable to the intelligence of her first-born.Now," continued Dromas with increasing gravity, "when I paint to her thebeauty of your native land; the splendour of your father's court; thekindliness of your mother, and the exceeding beauty of your sister--fairlike yourself, blue-eyed, tall--you said she was tall, I think?"

  "Yes--rather tall."

  "Of course not _quite_ so tall as yourself, say six feet or so, with aslight, feminine beard--no? you shake your head; well, smooth-faced androsy, immense breadth of shoulders--ah! I have often pictured to myselfthat sister of yours--"

  "Hilloa!" shouted Captain Arkal in a nautical tone that might almosthave been styled modern British in its character.

  It was an opportune interruption, for Dromas had been running on withhis jesting remarks for the sole purpose of crushing down the feelingsthat almost unmanned him.

  With few but fervently uttered words the final farewells were at lastspoken. The oars were dipped; the vessel shot from the land, swept outupon the blue waves of the Aegean, the sail was hoisted, and thus beganthe long voyage to the almost unknown islands of the far North-West.

  CHAPTER TWO.

  TEMPORARY DELAY THROUGH ELEMENTS AND PIRATES.

  But it is not our purpose to inflict the entire log of that voyage onour reader, adventurous though the voyage was. Matter of much greaterimportance claims our regard. Still it would be unjust to our voyagersto pass it over in absolute silence.

  At the very commencement of it, there occurred one of those incidents towhich all voyagers are more or less subject. A gale arose the veryevening of the day on which they left port, which all but swamped thelittle vessel, and the violence of the wind was so great that their hugesail was split from top to bottom. In spite of the darkness and theconfusion that ensued, Captain Arkal, by his prompt action and skilfulmanagement, saved the vessel from immediate destruction. Fortunatelythe gale did not last long, and, during the calm that followed, the rentwas repaired and the sail re-set.

  Then occurred another incident that threatened to cut short the voyageeven more disastrously than by swamping.

  The sea over which they steered swarmed with pirates at the time wewrite of, as it continued to swarm during many centuries after.Merchantmen, fully aware of the fact, were in those days also men ofwar. They went forth on their voyages fully armed with sword, javelin,and shield, as well as with the simple artillery of the period--bows andarrows, slings and stones.

  On the afternoon of the day that followed the gale, the vessel--whichher captain and owner had named the _Penelope_ in honour of his wife--was running before a light breeze, along the coast of one of the islandswith which that sea is studded.

  Bladud and some of the crew were listening at the time to an accountgiven by a small seaman named Maikar, of a recent adventure on the sea,when a galley about as large as their own was seen to shoot suddenlyfrom the mouth of a cavern in the cliffs in which it had lain concealed.It was double-banked and full of armed men, and was rowed in such a wayas to cut in advance of the _Penelope_. The vigour with which the oarswere plied, and the rapidity with which the sail was run up, left nodoubt as to the nature of the craft or the intentions of those whomanned it.

  "The rascals!" growled Arkal with a dark frown, "I more than halfexpected to find them here."

  "Pirates, I suppose?" said Bladud.

  "Ay--and not much chance of escaping them. Give another haul on thesail-rope, mate, and pull, men, pull, if you would save your liberty--for these brutes have no mercy."

  The sail was tightened up a few inches, and the vessel was put moredirectly before the wind. The way in which the slaves bent to the oarsshowed that the poor fellows fully understood the situation.

  For a few minutes Captain Arkal watched the result in stern silence.Then, with an unwonted look and tone of bitterness, he said in a lowvoice--

  "No--I thought as much. She sails faster than we do. Now, friendBladud, you shall presently have a chance of proving whether your royalblood is better than that of other men."

  To this remark the prince made no other reply than by a good-naturedsmile as he took up the bronze helmet which lay beside his sword on thethwart and placed it on his head.

  Captain Arkal regarded him with a sort of grim satisfaction as hefollowed up the action by buckling on his sword.

  The sword in question was noteworthy. It was a single-handed weapon ofiron, made in Egypt, to suit the size and strength of its owner,
and waslarge enough to have served as a two-handed sword for most men.

  "You can throw a javelin, no doubt?" asked the captain, as he watchedthe young man's leisurely preparations for the expected combat.

  "Yes, I have practised throwing the spear a good deal--both in peace andwar."

  "Good. I have got one here that will suit you. It belonged to mygrandfather, who was a stout man, and made powerful play with it duringa neighbouring tribe's raid--when I was a baby--to the discomfort, Ihave been told, and surprise of his foes. I always keep it by me forluck, and have myself used it on occasion, though I prefer a lighter onefor ordinary use. Here it is--a pretty weapon," he continued, drawing ajavelin of gigantic proportions from under the gunwale and handing it toBladud. "But we must proceed with caution in this matter. Take offyour helmet at