CHAPTER XII. THE FIGHT IN THE PALACE
BARBARA HARDING heard the samurai in the room beyond her prisonadvancing toward the door that separated them from her. She pressed thepoint of the daimio's sword close to her heart. A heavy knock fell uponthe door and at the same instant the girl was startled by a noise behindher--a noise at the little window at the far end of the room.
Turning to face this new danger, she was startled into a little cryof surprise to see the head and shoulders of the mucker framed in thebroken square of the half-demolished window.
The girl did not know whether to feel renewed hope or utter despair. Shecould not forget the heroism of her rescue by this brutal fellow whenthe Halfmoon had gone to pieces the day before, nor could she banishfrom her mind his threats of violence toward her, or his brutaltreatment of Mallory and Theriere. And the question arose in her mind asto whether she would be any better off in his power than in the clutchesof the savage samurai.
Billy Byrne had heard the knock upon the door before which the girlknelt. He had seen the corpses of the dead men at her feet. He hadobserved the telltale position of the sword which the girl held to herbreast and he had read much of the story of the impending tragedy at aglance.
"Cheer up, kid!" he whispered. "I'll be wid youse in a minute, an'Theriere's out here too, to help youse if I can't do it alone."
The girl turned toward the door again.
"Wait," she cried to the samurai upon the other side, "until I move thedead men, then you may come in, their bodies bar the door now."
All that kept the warriors out was the fear that possibly Oda Yorimotomight not be dead after all, and that should they force their way intothe room without his permission some of them would suffer for theirtemerity. Naturally none of them was keen to lose his head for nothing,but the moment that the girl spoke of the dead "men" they knew that OdaYorimoto had been slain, too, and with one accord they rushed the littledoor.
The girl threw all her weight against her side, while the dead men, eachto the extent of his own weight, aided the woman who had killed them inher effort to repulse their fellows; and behind the three Billy Byrnekicked and tore at the mud wall about the window in a frantic effortto enlarge the aperture sufficiently to permit his huge bulk to passthrough into the little room.
The mucker won to the girl's side first, and snatching Oda Yorimoto'slong sword from the floor he threw his great weight against the door,and commanded the girl to make for the window and escape to the forestas quickly as she could.
"Theriere is waiting dere," he said. "He will see youse de moment yehreach de window, and den youse will be safe."
"But you!" cried the girl. "What of you?"
"Never yeh mind me," commanded Billy Byrne. "Youse jes' do as I tellsyeh, see? Now, beat it," and he gave her a rough shove toward thewindow.
And then, between the combined efforts of the samurai upon one side andBilly Byrne of Kelly's gang upon the other the frail door burst from itsrotten hinges and fell to one side.
The first of the samurai into the little room was cleft from crown tobreast bone with the keen edge of the sword of the Lord of Yoka wieldedby the mighty arm of the mucker. The second took the count with a lefthook to the jaw, and then all that could crowd through the little doorswarmed upon the husky bruiser from Grand Avenue.
Barbara Harding took one look at the carnage behind her and then sprangto the window. At a short distance she saw the jungle and at its edgewhat she was sure was the figure of a man crouching in the long grass.
"Mr. Theriere!" she cried. "Quick! They are killing Byrne," and thenshe turned back into the room, and with the short sword which she stillgrasped in her hand sprang to the side of the mucker who was offeringhis life to save her.
Byrne cast a horrified glance at the figure fighting by his side.
"Fer de love o' Mike! Beat it!" he cried. "Duck! Git out o' here!"
But the girl only smiled up bravely into his face and kept her placebeside him. The mucker tried to push her behind him with one hand whilehe fought with the other, but she drew away from him to come up again alittle farther from him.
The samurai were pushing them closely now. Three men at a time werereaching for the mucker with their long swords. He was bleeding fromnumerous wounds, but at his feet lay two dead warriors, while a thirdcrawled away with a mortal wound in his abdomen.
Barbara Harding devoted her energies to thrusting and cutting at thosewho tried to press past the mucker, that they might take him frombehind. The battle could not last long, so unequal were the odds. Shesaw the room beyond filled with surging warriors all trying to forcetheir way within reach of the great white man who battled like somedemigod of old in the close, dark, evil warren of the daimio.
She shot a side glance at the man. He was wonderful! The fire of battlehad transformed him. No longer was he the sullen, sulky, hulking bruteshe had first known upon the Halfmoon. Instead, huge, muscular, alert,he towered above his pygmy antagonists, his gray eyes gleaming, ahalf-smile upon his strong lips.
She saw the long sword, wielded awkwardly in his unaccustomed hands,beat down the weapons of his skilled foemen by the very ferocity of itshurtling attack. She saw it pass through a man's shoulder, cleavingbone and muscle as if they had been cheese, until it stopped two-thirdsacross its victim's body, cutting him almost in two.
She saw a samurai leap past her champion's guard in an attempt to closeupon him with a dagger, and when she had rushed forward to thwartthe fellow's design she had seen Byrne swing his mighty left to thewarrior's face with a blow that might well have felled an ox. Thenanother leaped into closer quarters and she saw Byrne at the sameinstant bury his sword in the body of a dark-visaged devil who lookedmore Malay than Jap, and as the stricken man fell she saw the hilt ofthe mucker's blade wrenched from his grip by the dead body of his foe.The samurai who had closed upon Byrne at that instant found his enemyunarmed, and with a howl of delight he struck full at the broad chestwith his long, thin dagger.
But Billy Byrne was not to be dispatched so easily. With his leftforearm he struck up the hand that wielded the menacing blade, and thencatching the fellow by the shoulder swung him around, grasped him aboutthe waist and lifting him above his head hurled him full in the faces ofthe swordsmen who were pressing through the narrow doorway.
Almost simultaneously a spear shot through a tiny opening in the ranksbefore Billy Byrne, and with a little gasp of dismay the huge fellowpitched forward upon his face. At the same instant a shot rang outbehind Barbara Harding, and Theriere leaped past her to stand across thebody of the fallen mucker.
With the sound of the shot a samurai sank to the floor, dead, and theothers, unaccustomed to firearms, drew back in dismay. Again Therierefired point-blank into the crowded room, and this time two men fell,struck by the same bullet. Once more the warriors retreated, and with anexultant yell Theriere followed up his advantage by charging menacinglyupon them. They stood for a moment, then wavered, turned and fled fromthe hut.
When Theriere turned back toward Barbara Harding he found her kneelingbeside the mucker.
"Is he dead?" asked the Frenchman.
"No. Can we lift him together and get him through that window?"
"It is the only way," replied Theriere, "and we must try it."
They seized upon the huge body and dragged it to the far end of theroom, but despite their best efforts the two were not able to lift thegreat, inert mass of flesh and bone and muscle and pass it through thetiny opening.
"What shall we do?" cried Theriere.
"We must stay here with him," replied Barbara Harding. "I could neverdesert the man who has fought so noble a fight for me while a breath oflife remained in him."
Theriere groaned.
"Nor I," he said; "but you--he has given his life to save yours. Shouldyou render his sacrifice of no avail now?"
"I cannot go alone," she answered simply, "and I know that you will notleave him. There is no other way--we must stay."
At this ju
ncture the mucker opened his eyes.
"Who hit me?" he murmured. "Jes' show me de big stiff." Theriere couldnot repress a smile. Barbara Harding again knelt beside the man.
"No one hit you, Mr. Byrne," she said. "You were struck by a spear andare badly wounded."
Billy Byrne opened his eyes a little wider, turning them until theyrested on the beautiful face of the girl so close to his.
"MR. Byrne!" he ejaculated in disgust. "Forget it. Wot doyouse tink I am, one of dose paper-collar dudes?"
Then he sat up. Blood was flowing from a wound in his chest, saturatinghis shirt, and running slowly to the earth floor. There were two fleshwounds upon his head--one above the right eye and the other extendingentirely across the left cheek from below the eye to the lobe of theear--but these he had received earlier in the fracas. From crown to heelthe man was a mass of blood. Through his crimson mask he looked at thepile of bodies in the far end of the room, and a broad grin cracked thedried blood about his mouth.
"Wot we done to dem Chinks was sure a plenty, kiddo," he remarked toMiss Harding, and then he came to his feet, seemingly as strong as ever,shaking himself like a great bull. "But I guess it's lucky youse buttedin when you did, old pot," he added, turning toward Theriere; "dey jestabout had me down fer de long count."
Barbara Harding was looking at the man in wide-eyed amazement. A momentbefore she had been expecting him, momentarily, to breathe his last--nowhe was standing before her talking as unconcernedly as though he had notreceived a scratch--he seemed totally unaware of his wounds. At least hewas entirely indifferent to them.
"You're pretty badly hurt, old man," said Theriere. "Do you feel ableto make the attempt to get to the jungle? The Japs will be back in amoment."
"Sure!" cried Billy Byrne. "Come ahead," and he sprang for the window."Pass de kid up to me. Quick! Dey're comin' from in back."
Theriere lifted Barbara Harding to the mucker who drew her through theopening. Then Billy extended a hand to the Frenchman, and a moment laterthe three stood together outside the hut.
A dozen samurai were running toward them from around the end of the"Palace." The jungle lay a hundred yards across the clearing. There wasno time to be lost.
"You go first with Miss Harding," cried Theriere. "I'll cover ourretreat with my revolver, following close behind you."
The mucker caught the girl in his arms, throwing her across hisshoulder. The blood from his wounds smeared her hands and clothing.
"Hang tight, kiddo," he cried, and started at a brisk trot toward theforest.
Theriere kept close behind the two, reserving his fire until it could beeffectively delivered. With savage yells the samurai leaped after theirescaping quarry. The natives all carried the long, sharp spears of theaboriginal head-hunters. Their swords swung in their harness, and theirancient armor clanked as they ran.
It was a strange, weird picture that the oddly contrasted partypresented as they raced across the clearing of this forgotten isletoward a jungle as primitive as when "the evening and the morning werethe third day." An American girl of the highest social caste borne inthe arms of that most vicious of all social pariahs--the criminal muckerof the slums of a great city--and defending them with drawn revolver,a French count and soldier of fortune, while in their wake streameda yelling pack of half-caste demons clothed in the habiliments ofsixteenth century Japan, and wielding the barbarous spears of the savagehead-hunting aborigines whose fierce blood coursed in their veins withthat of the descendants of Taka-mi-musu-bi-no-kami.
Three-quarters of the distance had been covered in safety before thesamurai came within safe spear range of the trio. Theriere, seeing thedanger to the girl, dropped back a few paces hoping to hold the brownwarriors from her. The foremost of the pursuers raised his weapon aloft,carrying his spear hand back of his shoulder for the throw. Theriere'srevolver spoke, and the man pitched forward, rolling over and overbefore he came to rest.
A howl of rage went up from the samurai, and a half-dozen spears leapedat long range toward Theriere. One of the weapons transfixed his thigh,bringing him to earth. Byrne was at the forest's edge as the Frenchmanfell--it was the girl, though, who witnessed the catastrophe.
"Stop!" she cried. "Mr. Theriere is down."
The mucker halted, and turned his head in the direction of theFrenchman, who had raised himself to one elbow and was firing at theadvancing enemy. He dropped the girl to her feet.
"Wait here!" he commanded and sprang back toward Theriere.
Before he reached him another spear had caught the man full in thechest, toppling him, unconscious, to the earth. The samurai were rushingrapidly upon the wounded officer--it was a question who would reach himfirst.
Theriere had been nipped in the act of reloading his revolver. It laybeside him now, the cylinder full of fresh cartridges. The mucker wasfirst to his side, and snatching the weapon from the ground fired coollyand rapidly at the advancing Japanese. Four of them went down beforethat deadly fusillade; but the mucker cursed beneath his breath becauseof his two misses.
Byrne's stand checked the brown men momentarily, and in the succeedinglull the man lifted the unconscious Frenchman to his shoulder and borehim back to the forest. In the shelter of the jungle they laid him uponthe ground. To the girl it seemed that the frightful wound in his chestmust prove fatal within a few moments.
Byrne, apparently unmoved by the seriousness of Theriere's condition,removed the man's cartridge belt and buckled it about his own waist,replacing the six empty shells in the revolver with six fresh ones.Presently he noticed the bound and gagged Oda Iseka lying in the brushbehind them where he and Theriere had left him. The samurai were nowsneaking cautiously toward their refuge. A sudden inspiration came tothe mucker.
"Didn't I hear youse chewin' de rag wit de Chinks wen I hit de dump overdere?" he asked of Barbara.
The girl, oddly, understood him. She nodded her head, affirmatively.
"Youse savvy deyre lingo den, eh?"
"A little."
"Tell dis gazimbat to wise his pals to de fact dat I'll croak 'im, ifdey don't beat it, an' let us make our get-away. Theriere says as howhe's kink when his ole man croaks, an' his ole man was de guy youseput to sleep in de chicken coop," explained the mucker lucidly; "so disslob's kink hisself now."
Barbara Harding was quick to see the strength of the man's suggestion.Stepping to the edge of the clearing in full view of the advancingenemy, with the mucker at her side, revolver in hand, she called to themin the language of their forbears to listen to her message. Then sheexplained that they held the son of Oda Yorimoto prisoner, and that hislife would be the price of any further attack upon them.
The samurai conferred together for a moment, then one of them called outthat they did not believe her, that Oda Iseka, son of Oda Yorimoto, wassafe in the village.
"Wait!" replied the girl. "We will show him to you," and turning toByrne she asked him to fetch the youth.
When the white man returned with the boy in his arms, a wail of mingledanguish and rage rose from the natives.
"If you molest us no further we shall not harm him," cried Barbara, "andwhen we leave your island we shall set him free; but renew your attackupon us and this white man who holds him says that he will cut out hisheart and feed it to the fox," which was rather a bloodthirsty statementfor so gentle a character as Barbara Harding; but she knew enough of thesuperstitious fears of the ancient Japanese to feel confident that thisthreat would have considerable weight with the subjects of the youngLord of Yoka.
Again the natives conferred in whispers. Finally he who had acted asspokesman before turned toward the strangers.
"We shall not harm you," he said, "so long as you do not harm Oda Iseka;but we shall watch you always until you leave the island, and if harmbefalls him then shall you never leave, for we shall kill you all."
Barbara translated the man's words to the mucker.
"Do youse fall fer dat?" he asked.
"I think they will be careful to make no
open assault upon us," repliedthe girl; "but never for an instant must we cease our watchfulness forat the first opportunity I am sure that they will murder us."
They turned back to Theriere now. The man still lay, unconscious andmoaning, where Byrne had deposited him. The mucker removed the gag fromOda Iseka's mouth.
"Which way is water? Ask him," he said to Barbara.
The girl put the question.
"He says that straight up this ravine behind us there is a littlespring," translated the girl.
Byrne lifted Theriere in his arms, after loosening Oda Iseka's feet andtethering him to his own belt with the same grass rope; then he motionedthe youth up the ravine.
"Walk beside me," he said to Barbara Harding, "an' keep yer lamps peeledbehind."
Thus, in silence, the party commenced the ascent of the trail whichsoon became rough and precipitous, while behind them, under cover of thebrush, sneaked four trailing samurai.
After half an hour of the most arduous climbing the mucker commencedto feel the effects of loss of blood from his many wounds. He cougheda little now from the exertion, and when he did the blood spurted anewfrom the fresh wound in his breast.
Yet there was no wavering or weakness apparent to the girl who marchedbeside him, and she wondered at the physical endurance of the man.But when at last they came to a clear pool of water, half hidden byoverhanging rocks and long masses of depending mosses, in the midst ofa natural grotto of enchanting loveliness, and Oda Iseka signaledthat their journey was at an end, Byrne laid Theriere gently uponthe flower-starred sward, and with a little, choking gasp collapsed,unconscious, beside the Frenchman.
Barbara Harding was horror-stricken. She suddenly realized that she hadcommenced to feel that this giant of the slums was invulnerable, andwith the thought came another--that to him she had come to look morethan to Theriere for eventual rescue; and now, here she found herself inthe center of a savage island, surrounded as she felt confident she wasby skulking murderers, with only two dying white men and a brown hostageas companions.
And now Oda Iseka took in the situation, and with a grin of triumphraised his voice in a loud halloo.
"Come quickly, my people!" he cried; "for both the white men are dying,"and from the jungle below them came an answering shout.
"We come, Oda Iseka, Lord of Yoka! Your faithful samurai come!"