Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




The Golden Rock
By Ernest Glanville
Illustrations by Stanley Wood
Published by Chatto and Windus, London.
This edition dated 1895.
The Golden Rock, by Ernest Glanville.

________________________________________________________________________

________________________________________________________________________
THE GOLDEN ROCK, BY ERNEST GLANVILLE.



CHAPTER ONE.

A QUEER LEGACY.

Old Trader Hume was dead.

Not that he was really old when he died, but he had lived a life that
had robbed him of his youth at one end and cut off the slow decline on
the other.  At fifteen he began the career of trader and hunter; before
twenty he had been tossed by a buffalo, and broken his leg in a fall
from his horse; at twenty-five he had been twice down with the fever; at
thirty he was known as Old Hume; at fifty he had gone home to die--a man
worn, sun-dried, and scarred with many wounds.  Home to the Old Country,
the land of his parents, the land of rest and green fields that had
figured in his waking dreams, and in his lonely watches beneath the
African sky.

His mother had talked to him of the quiet village, the ivied church, the
bells, the song of the lark, and the pleasant customs of the country
folk; and his father had told him of the great cities, the roar of life,
and the silence of old ruins testifying to a mighty past; and the
untrained, toughened Colonial boy had kept before him one goal--the
hoary tower of Westminster, the green meadows, and the tuneful bells of
old England.

Well, at last he had gone home; but it was not the home of his dreams.
There were the wonderful green fields, the eloquent ruins, and a
multitude beyond expectation for number; but there was something
wanting, and the lack of it preyed upon him, hastening his end.  These
swarming men and women were not of his type.  The people in the streets
hurried along hard-eyed and absorbed; his neighbours treated his
overtures with suspicion, not understanding his familiar greeting and
his manner of going about in his shirt-sleeves, smoking strange tobacco.
He was alone in the midst of crowds, and he waited for death with the
patience of a stricken animal, while the people who understood him not
made much of an explorer recently returned, not knowing that this
weather-worn stranger who pottered about aimlessly had braved more
dangers in unexplored countries, and had, without thinking of it, opened
up more routes for the advance of commerce.  One friendship he had
formed with the son of his father's brother, his only living relative, a
boy who had been with him on his last trading trip, and whom he had sent
to Oxford to pick up the ways of men, and, perhaps, some of their
learning.  But he only saw the lad in the long vacation, and then only
for a few days, insisting that the young fellow should camp out in Wales
with some of his companions.

Now, Old Trader Hume was dead and buried, and his nephew, Francis Hume,
was alone in the old man's room, the room of a hunter filled with
trophies of the chase.

The young man was bending forward, one hand supporting his head, while
the other, dangling listlessly, held a sheet of paper.  Long he remained
so, his eyes absently fixed on the point of a curved rhinoceros' horn,
then leant back in the chair and read the contents, setting forth the
last will of his uncle.

A very short and simple document it was:

  "I, Abel Hume, commonly known as Old Hume, the Trader, leave to my
  nephew Frank all my possessions, including 275 pounds in the Standard
  Bank.  There is a map in my pocket-book drawn by myself.  That I leave
  him also, and it is my wish that he will follow the directions
  therein.  I would like him to use my double Express, and to treat it
  tenderly.  Good-bye, my lad; shoot straight, and deal straight.

  "_Signed_ Abel Hume."

"Dear old chap!" muttered Frank, with a sad smile, and again he sank
into a long reverie.

He had always thought that his uncle was a wealthy man, and, under that
impression, he had lived rather extravagantly at Oxford.  His uncle had
paid his bills, and he tried to recall if there had been, unnoticed at
the time by him, any word or sign of disapproval, but he could remember
only the dry chuckle of the hunter at some unusual entry.

"Poor old boy," he said again; "I wish he had told me.  What a lonely
time he had!"

He thought then--how could he help it?--of his own prospects, which had
lost so suddenly all the wide outlook of a happy career.

"I must give up Oxford, of course, and my friends, too, before they give
me up; but what am I to do?"  He looked around at the house, at the
trophy of assegais on the wall, at the lion's skin on the hearth, the
yellow eyes glaring, and the red mouth set in an everlasting snarl.

"I am sorry the old man came home.  He was happy there in the bush, or
on the trek.  What a life he must have led during those thirty-five
years of hunting and trading, and what yarns he did spin in the
evenings!  There was that story of the bull elephant."

He lit his pipe by instinct, and was lost in veldt and kloof among the
big game until the strange glamour of the chase, from which no man is
free, was upon him, and he was soon sitting with his uncle's favourite
rifle in his hands, examining its rich brown barrels, and the polished
stock of almost black walnut, bound about the hand-grip with the skin of
a puff-adder.  He brought the butt to his shoulders, his cheek against
the stock, and began sighting at small objects on the wall.  The gun was
heavy, but he had not been at Oxford for two years for nothing, and his
muscles were those of an athlete.

He rose up to replace the gun tenderly in its rack, and then, going to
his uncle's desk, took out the pocket-book--a much-worn leather case,
bound round with a length of braided buckskin.

Folded up in an inner pocket was a frayed piece of paper.  This he
carefully spread out on an open book, and, with a faint smile about his
lips, carefully examined the roughly-drawn outlines of river and
mountains.  This was not the first time he had seen the sketch.  His
uncle had, on his last visit, with much gravity, taken the paper from
its hiding-place, and had told the story connected with it--a story
which had impressed the young undergraduate, chiefly on account of the
moving adventures related, the real heart of the thing taking but an
insignificant place in his thoughts.

Yet he vividly remembered how the old hunter, usually so cool, had
worked himself into a pitch of excitement, and how, placing his withered
finger on one spot, he had, sinking his voice to a whisper, said
impressively:

"There, my lad, is your fortune.  Your fortune; the fortunes of a
hundred men."

What was the story?  Was there a fortune there, or had his uncle been,
like many a lonely wanderer, the victim of a hallucination?  He pored
over the map, and in imagination listened again to the slow, grave words
of the old hunter, whose eyes had flashed under the glow recalled by the
memory of that expedition.  His uncle had struck north through the
Transvaal, and after crossing the Crocodile, had turned to the east for
an unknown land, whence rumours had come of great herds of elephants.
Entering a bush country too thick for the waggon to continue, he had
gone on afoot with a score of boys for a big vlei, where there was,
indeed, a happy hunting-ground.  There, after bagging some fine tusks,
he had heard from an old black of a strange rock to the west, which
shone bright in the sun, and had struggled to reach the spot.  A week he
spent amid the tangle of reeds about the river, and in the gorges of a
wild and lofty chain of mountains; and then, one day, in the early
morning, he had, from the Place of the Eye in a singular rocky profile
of a human face, seen shine out, from the great plain below, a blaze of
light which glowed for the space of an hour while the rays were level,
and then went out.  He had seen the Golden Rock, the shining stone of
the natives, the eye of the morning, the place of bloodshed, as the old
man related, and he marked the spot where he had stood, for he could go
no further then.  Several days he had spent returning to the huts at the
vlei, where he listened much to the old man, hearing more about the
rock, and of the glistening ornaments that were made from it whenever a
new chief arose.  He learnt about the tribe who lived at the feet of the
mountains and in the great forests, and he planned how he would reach
the rock, when news came that his waggon had been burnt by the natives,
and the next day he himself was attacked.  Escaping to the river, where
he lurked in the reeds, he at last fashioned a hollow tree to his
purpose, and floated down the Limpopo, enduring twenty-five days of
fearful suffering before he reached the month, where he was picked up by
a Portuguese trader and landed at Delagoa Bay.  In that trip he had lost
everything--waggon, oxen, ivory, skins and stores, and before he could
plan another expedition to the mysterious rock he felt he had entered
the shadows, and the craving for the home of his forefathers would not
be denied.

"My lad, that is your fortune.  I have seen it, and you must find it.
Will you promise?"

"Yes, uncle, I promise," Frank had said, laughing at what he thought was
a joke.

"That's all right," the old hunter had replied.  "When a Hume makes a
promise he means to keep it--or die."

Frank now remembered those words and all they implied, and they spoke to
him now with greater force than when he had heard them.

He had made a promise, carelessly, not knowing what he said, just to
humour his uncle.  Nevertheless he had given his word.  Was he bound to
keep it?  Well for that matter, he was a Hume.

Taking an atlas from the shelf, he studied the East Coast of Africa, and
the course of the Limpopo from its mouth.  As far as his uncle had
drawn, his sketch tallied with the map, and so exactly indeed that he
must have filled in the original rough draft from the printed map.

Folding up the much-creased paper with a sigh, he paced up and down the
room, tugging at his moustache, a blank look on his manly face.
Suddenly stopping opposite a mirror, and seeing his reflection, he broke
into a loud laugh.

"Hang it! what a brute I am!  But it's too absurd, this legacy of a
Golden Rock which does not exist.  Well, at any rate, I can use up the
bank balance in making a hunting trip to the spot, and after that--"

He shrugged his shoulders, and went out to see about executing the will.



CHAPTER TWO.

A MYSTERY.

Frank Hume had some of that tenacity of purpose which had made his uncle
a successful hunter and Kaffir trader.  He saw plainly enough the
quixotic side of the quest to which he was committed, but he was not one
of those who ask, "Is it worth while?" and "Where is the good?" if
confronted with any undertaking not obviously practical.

The Golden Rock had taken no hold on his imagination.  It was no bright
spot glowing, like a beacon in a dark night, out of the dim future, but
itself merely a dim and shadowy token representing and explaining the
duty he owed to the dead man's whim.  He would go to the locality, and
then let events shape his career to any rough-and-ready pattern, even to
that of the hard life of a hunter.  Having made up his mind, he set
about his preparations carefully, shaking off his extravagant university
habits, and keeping an eye to economy in small things to make the most
of his little store of money.

In one important respect he was admirably fitted for a life of hardship.
Though of average height, he was uncommonly deep in the chest and broad
across the shoulders, and possessed a stock of bone and muscle upon
which he could safely depend.  His head was well set on, with a marked
tilt of the chin that gave him an air of watchfulness, and this aspect
was heightened by a pair of steady blue eyes.

Within a week he had settled his affairs and was ready to take the first
outward-bound vessel, limiting his choice to a sailing-ship, for time
was of no particular object, while money and the saving of it was of
first importance.  He had even seen the skipper of a four-masted iron
clipper with the view of working his passage out, but the skipper had
received his overture with an explosion.  "No more swab-fisted gentlemen
lubbers for me.  They're worse than an old maid with a family of cats,
and not so useful.  Have a drink?"  They had a drink, and the rejected
volunteer walked homewards in the evening, stopping on the Embankment to
look on the dark river which was soon to carry him down to the salt
waters.

As he leant there with his elbows on the granite coping, he heard the
sound of oars, and presently made out the blurred outline of a boat, and
a streak of white about its bows where the strong tide opposed its rush
to the exertions of the labouring oarsmen.  There were two of these, and
Frank could see that they were not pulling together, while the bow oar
was weaker than the stroke.  The boat scarcely gained a foot against the
tide, but, instead, moved sideways at every savage pull by stroke.

"Put your weight into it, man," growled stroke.

"I can't.  I'm dead beat," gasped the other.

"Look out!" shouted Frank, "you'll be into the steps."

Stroke looked sharply to the right, threw out a hand to keep the boat
off the granite, then, as she was swept back, caught fast hold of an
iron ring, while the bow oarsman sighed audibly and set to rubbing his
arms.

"You're a pretty sort of fellow, you are--as soft as butter.  What the
deuce did you say you could row for?"

"Who can pull against this flood?  Look here!"  Bow leant over,
thrusting his hand into the dark waters, which foamed against the
obstruction.

"What are we to do now?"

"Wait till the ebb, I suppose; or get a ferryman to row us."

"Ferryman be damned.  If we wait for the ebb we'll not get out before
daylight."

Frank went round to the opening in the Embankment, and walked down the
steps.

"Can I be of any use?" he said.

"Yes, you can, by taking yourself off," was the surly rejoinder from
stroke.

"Nonsense!  Don't go, sir.  Can you row?"

"I think so."

"I don't want you to think.  I thought I could row until I met this
infernal tide."

"Well, I can row against tide, or with it."

"Step right in, then."

"Man, you're mad!" sharply interposed stroke.  The two whispered
together for a few minutes, then bow suavely spoke:

"My friend would be glad of your help, but he rather doubts your
discretion.  We are engaged in no nefarious designs, but at the same
time we don't want to be talked of."

"I think," said Frank, with a laugh, "you may trust me, especially as
you have already given yourself away.  There would be nothing to prevent
my calling the attention of a policeman to your condition, you know."

"Jump in," said stroke quickly.

Bow crawled aft to take the tiller, and Frank stepped lightly into the
boat.

"Take her through the second arch, and then keep over to the Surrey
side, when you will shoot us through the end arch of London Bridge, and
by the fleet of barges.  She lies just beyond."

"They are evidently making for a ship of some sort," was Frank's mental
reflection on the reference to "she," but he was next moment bending to
his oar, his eyes fixed on the broad back before him, and his soul bent
upon holding his own.

For a moment the boat had swept back with the tide, then as the oars
dipped in she stood still to their tug, hung a moment, then crept on
with slowly-increasing speed--under Waterloo Bridge, past the railway
bridge, then across to the Surrey side, and, with a hard struggle, down
under London Bridge and into the Pool, close in the shadow of a number
of barges.

"Do you see her?" asked stroke, with a gasp.

"Pull on," said the cox.  "So--steady, stroke--pull, bow--easy."

The boat scraped alongside a low craft, and cox held on to a rope
ladder.

"How do you feel?" asked stroke, turning his head.

"Pretty well baked," said Frank; "and you?"

"I'm worked to a cast-iron finish.  Give me the painter--thanks.  Now,
up you go."

Without more ado, Frank climbed up the ladder to a narrow deck, where he
stood holding to a light rail.  The two men were quickly by his side,
one of them securing the boat.

"This way."

They went forward to a deck-house, and descended a companion-way to a
small saloon, where one of them struck a match, and lit a suspended
lamp.

"Let's have a look at you!" and the man who had pulled stroke, standing
himself in the shade, threw the light full on Frank's face, while the
second man closed the door and stood with his back to it.

"That will do."

"Pardon me," said Frank, stung by this ungracious treatment; "it is my
turn now."

Quickly steadying the lamp, he directed the light on the other's face,
revealing a pair of fierce black eyes, and a face thickly bearded.

"Stop that, or I'll--" He put his hand to his pocket with a threatening
action.

"Leave him alone, Captain.  Upon my word, he has served you well in your
own coin;" and the other man stepped forward, placing a hand lightly on
Frank's shoulder, whereat the latter, finding he was in queer company,
stepped back.

"Don't start, sir; there is nothing to fear."

"I think there is," said Frank; "so please keep your distance, or,
better still, stand aside, as I should like to get out of this."

"Of course you would, but--and I hate to tell you after what you have
done--we can't afford to let you go."

"Afford, that's not the word.  We won't let you go, mate."

"I'll see about that," shouted Frank, at the same time hurling one man
aside, and, seizing the handle, which came off to his furious tug,
leaving the door still fast closed.  Turning, he hurled the brass knob
at the black-bearded man, but it missed the mark, and went with a crash
through a glass door beyond.

Next moment he was looking into the dark muzzle of a revolver, held very
straight in the brawny hand of the Captain, whose black eyes wore a very
ugly look.

"Put that pistol down," rang out in tones of suppressed passion.

The door stood open, and a tall girl in black swept in.

Her dark eyes, flashing from a face of unusual pallor, dwelt a moment on
the three figures, the one huddled on the floor, the others facing each
other.

"What does this mean, Captain Pardoe?" she asked haughtily, "and who is
this stranger?"

Frank raised his hat.  "For my part in this disturbance I heartily
apologise, but I must say, and these gentlemen will bear me out, that my
intrusion was not of my seeking."

She inclined her head slightly, then turned to the second man, who had
risen, looking uncomfortable at having been found in a humiliating
position.

"Since Captain Pardoe cannot speak, perhaps you will have the goodness
to explain, Mr Commins."

"It is this way, Miss Laura!" blurted the Captain; "this young fellow
knows too much."

"Excuse me," said Frank, "I know nothing except that I helped to row you
here, and you wished to detain me."

"Allow me to explain," said Mr Commins, interposing with a wave of his
hand.  "The tide was against us, and I was unequal to the work.  This
young man kindly offered his help, and we accepted, but thinking it
would be inadvisable to let him return, we felt it best to detain him,
and if he had not been in such a hurry to put us down as thieves or
cut-throats, and to act with unnecessary violence on that supposition,
matters could have been amicably settled."

"At the muzzle of a pistol," said Frank dryly.

"I think you might have managed without help," said the young lady
coldly.  "It is most vexing, and such a beginning bodes ill for the
undertaking."

"You need be under no uneasiness.  We can easily detain him."

"I object," said Frank hotly.

Captain Pardoe lifted his weapon.

"Give me that pistol, sir," said the young lady imperiously, and the
Captain reluctantly handed it over.  "I regret very much that we should
place you under restraint, sir; but there are interests at stake more
important than considerations of mere personal convenience.  I'm afraid
you must be our guest for a few days."

"We can put him ashore at Madeira, Miss Laura," said the Captain.

"At Madeira," said Frank, earnestly gazing at the splendid eyes and
superb figure of this masterful young lady.

"We will do our best to entertain you in the meanwhile," she said, with
a sudden dazzling smile, "and, perhaps, you will even forgive us for
this unmannerly and ungrateful return for your kindness."

As he caught the dazzle of her smile he determined upon his course,
especially as the trip to Madeira would advance him on his voyage.

"I am willing," he replied, "to take an enforced passage, provided you
allow me to get my baggage."

"That means going ashore?"

"Not necessarily; for upon a note from me to the landlady of my rooms
the things would be given up."

"We have no time to spare, Miss Laura," said Captain Pardoe.

"It is necessary for me to go ashore," she answered, "for a few minutes.
Where are your rooms?"

"Off the Temple--in York street."

"I think I will trust you," she said, giving her hand, which Frank
warmly clasped, the spell of her beauty being full upon him.

Within an hour they were all back on the ship, and as Big Ben struck out
the hours of midnight the vessel slowly crept down the river.



CHAPTER THREE.

A WILD RUSH.

Hume was immediately shown into a tiny box of a cabin and the door
locked upon him, an indignity that roused him to wrath, so that he
banged against the frail panels with his fist.

"Look here," said a deep voice from the alley, "if you don't stow that
sharp I'll clap you in irons."

"Leave him to me, Captain, and go on the bridge.  Now, sir, will you
oblige me by keeping silence for a few hours?"

Frank recognised the speaker by the rich tones, and immediately was
pacified.

"If you wish it, I will; but please unlock the door."

"Give me your promise that you won't make any disturbance."

"I promise."

"Thank you."  She turned the key, and then he heard the rustle of her
dress as she quickly moved away.

He stood looking at the handle for some moments, then sat on the bunk,
with the feeling strongly rooted that he was in for some dark
enterprise; but his mind dwelt less on this than on the stately figure
and beautiful face of this strange girl, whose strong character had been
so forcibly shown.

Who could she be, and what was she doing there--one woman with several
men, and men evidently lawless?  Already he longed for the hour when he
could see her again, and once more hear her voice, and the remarkable
and sudden change in the steady current of his life troubled him not at
all.

But presently his natural caution overmastered the swift-born
infatuation which had threatened to make a slave of him, and he roused
himself to take a survey of the little cabin.  This, though small,
contained two bunks, was plainly fitted and strongly built.  The
port-hole, he noticed by the dim light, was protected by an inner sheet
of steel.  This he unscrewed, and opening, too, the round glass, he
framed his face in the brass-rimmed circle.  The boat was slipping along
down the dark river at medium speed, the regular beat of her engines
sounding very distinctly in the still night, and her track stretching in
a ghostly gleam, unbroken by any other craft.  By craning his neck, he
noticed that she seemed very low in the water, and of unusual length,
and he was puzzled to place her in any category of cargo or passenger
steamers, finally coming to the conclusion that she was one of those
long, swift tugs he had sometimes seen ploughing up the river with a
string of coal barges in tow; a boat probably built for narrow channels,
and to pass under low bridges.

"She's not built for the ocean," he mused, "and when we get into the Bay
she'll play pitch-and-toss, I'll be bound."

Suddenly, quite near, Captain Pardoe spoke:

"Forrard, there!"

"Ay, ay, sir."

"Do you see the Hospital ship?"

"We'll pass her at the next bend, sir."

"Put the lights out as soon as you see her.  Who have you got in the
bows?"

"Dick, the Owl," said the officer, with a slight laugh.

"That will do.  Aft there, stand by the wheel."

"Ay, ay, sir," came in muffled reply.

"We won't steer her from the bridge, madam," said the Captain, "all the
lights must be out, and the orders passed by mouth."

"Do you think they'll challenge us?" spoke the young lady, her voice
sounding so near that Frank involuntarily drew back his head.

"They'll speak us, but we'll get through right enough.  If there's any
trouble it'll be off Sheerness."

"Why there?"

"They'll wire to the coastguard, and they'll signal the guardship."

"That's a man-of-war, isn't it?"

"She is that, miss, but she'll not fire, I hope; and we'll slip by
before she's rubbed her eyes.  There are the lights of Gravesend, and
isn't that something black ahead under the bank?  You won't go below, I
s'pose, Miss Laura?"

"No, Captain Pardoe; I will stop here."

Suddenly the glare over the bows from the forward lamps died out, there
was a sharp ring of the engineer's bell, a sound of men in hot haste
thrusting at the fires, and the vessel began to quiver and vibrate to
the beat of vast engines working faster and faster.

There was a rush of wind on Frank's face, the dark objects on the shore
swiftly receded into the general blur, and the water foamed up at the
bows and fell away in curling waves.

"Are all the lights out, Mr Webster?"

"Yes, sir; all but a light from a starboard port."

"It's that swab of a passenger," growled the Captain; "I'll have him
tied to his bunk."

Frank, warned that he was guilty of some unpardonable indiscretion,
crawled down from the top bunk, and had just reached the floor, when the
handle turned, there was a quick step, a rustle, and the light was
switched off, not before he had seen the dark eyes flashing in
resentment.

"If you behave in this way, sir, I'll not stand between you and
discipline."

"Really, I did not know I was doing anything wrong."

"Shut the port-hole," she said sharply.

He turned to obey with a frown of protest, when, seemingly not a yard
off, there flamed the lights of a ship's cabin.

"Where are you coming to, you lubber?" shouted out a voice furiously.

There was a jar, an ugly tearing noise, and Frank and the young lady
were thrown at each other.

"I beg your pardon, really," said Frank, as he loosened his hold of her
waist; "but I could not help myself."

She stood back with a gasp.  "Did you see that?  Has she sunk?"

The reply came from the angry officer of the other vessel in a torrent
of language reassuring as to her safety, but venomously strong.

The lights of another ship flashed by; then the steamer darted into the
narrow fairway between a fleet of vessels, big and little, the waves
washing against them, and bringing up an angry swarm of men, whose
shouts could be heard in a confused babble in the rear.

"What ship's that?" hailed a man in powerful tones.

There was no answer, and Frank felt a hand on his arm.

"We are the Customs--where are your lights?" followed in a faint hail
astern.

"Thank Heaven, we are past Gravesend.  Now, sir, you may have your light
again."

She pressed the button, and the electric light shone over her lustrous
hair, revealing a sparkle in her glorious eyes and a flush on her
cheeks.

Frank looked at her, and forgot everything in amazement at her beauty.

"I dare say," she said, with a faint smile, "you are wondering who we
are?"

"I don't know," said he, "and I don't care, so long as I"--he meant to
add--"am with you," but he paused in time at the hint of a haughty
surprise in her eyes.

She looked at him steadily a moment with a glance that implied some new
interest, then, once more switching off the light, went out without a
word, closing the door behind her.

He listened and heard her voice on deck, when he again framed his face
in the port-hole.

The bow lights had been relit, and the ship had slackened something of
her tremendous speed.

"I wish to Heaven," said the Captain, "those funnels would not draw so
well.  Just look at that shower of sparks; they'll give notice of our
coming."

"Why not slacken speed until you are close on the guardship?"

"That'll give 'em more time to prepare for us, but it's the best thing
to do."

Then followed a sharp signal to the engineer, and the speed was still
further decreased.

"Mr Webster, was she damaged at all by that brush?"

"Just a dent, sir; but she's all sound below."

"Douse the lights again.  We'll keep close in on the port tack.  Keep
your eye on the Kent shore, and tell the watch to be on the lookout for
the guardship."

For some time the ship slipped along through the dark waters without
another word being spoken.

"There's the signal, sir," sang out a voice, breaking in on the silence.
A rocket mounted afar off.

"Ay, I see it.  It's as I feared.  They've alarmed the guardship, and'll
be sending a boat to her.  Suppose they catch us, madam, what yarn will
you spin?"

"They must not catch us."

"They may open fire."

"Whether they fire or not, we must get through.  Couldn't we open fire,
too?"

Captain Pardoe laughed.

"We must depend on our heels, Miss Laura.  If it came to knocks, the
guardship would blow us out of the water."

"How annoying!" was the truly feminine reply--a reply so inappropriate
that even Frank smiled, while Captain Pardoe chuckled audibly.

"Understand, Captain," she continued imperiously, "I will not be
captured, nor the ship, not if they have to blow it up."

"Ah, see that?"

A shaft of light shot into the sky, then dropped to the water and swept
swiftly from right to left.

"It's the search-light.  The guardship is looking for us.  Mr Webster,
step down to the engineer and tell him we'll want every pound of steam
he can give us when I signal him.  We must get twenty-seven knots out of
her."

"Twenty-seven knots," thought Frank.  "What ship can this be?"  The
cabin seemed to grow unbearable as his excitement increased, and if
danger was to be encountered his place was by the side of this girl whom
Fate had thrown in his path.

Again the shaft of light, broadening from its base, shot out into the
darkness, and swept the water to its outermost fringe, where the gleam
mingled with the black night, reaching a few lengths ahead, where it
outlined a bare pole on the bank.

"Port your helm; put her over to the Kent shore," the Captain ordered
with lowered voice.

The vessel came round, and made across to the other bank.

The search-light swept round again, just as the vessel was near the
right bank, and the light shone over the deck, lighting up every detail,
before it passed on.

"Astern--full speed astern," roared the Captain down the speaking-tube;
"starboard your helm; bring her up on the old course."

The vessel backed out as the search-light flew back to the place she had
occupied, and then swiftly made over to the Essex shore, and at another
signal from the bridge darted into the shelter of the night.

Frank could hold himself no longer, but flung open the door, and after
groping about in the saloon, found the companion-way to the deck.  There
was a broad white belt of light on his right, but all around and ahead
was darkness, intensified by the brightness so near.

"They'll find us in a minute," spoke the Captain, and Frank, turning,
saw dimly two figures on a bridge just ahead of two singularly low
funnels, from which poured dense volumes of smoke.

The shaft of light played about the further shore, swept out slowly to
mid-stream, then swept back again.

"Stand by, Mr Dixon," said the Captain, down the tube.

The guardship could now be dimly seen behind that glittering eye--a
blurr of spars and funnels about a mile up stream.

The light crept over the dark river in a broad track of gleaming silver,
came slowly nearer, then, in a blinding flash, shone over the vessel,
lighting up every man as he stood at his post, and bringing out the
girl's face in a startling pallor.

The bell sounded its sharp order, the engines answered quicker and
quicker, and the long, narrow ship seemed to leap forward, sending up a
shower of water, which sparkled in the light, and came aft like rain.
On she rushed--the flames springing from her funnels--the whole frame
and body of her vibrating, and the water hissing and splashing before
her bows and in her wake.

A ball of white smoke, which for a moment dimmed the flaming light,
belched from the warship, followed at fully half a minute by the sullen
boom.

"That's by way of formal notice," said the Captain; "by-and-by she'll
send a sharper summons; better go below, Miss Laura."

"I will stay here," she answered quietly.

The small ship was now abreast of the man-of-war, which had changed its
course and was steaming slowly ahead.  On the left were the lights of
Southend, far ahead the revolving lights of the Nore lightship, and on
the port bows was the black hull and green and red lights of a huge
steamer.

"That's a stroke of luck," said the Captain.  "We'll get on the blind
side of that ship, and that bulldog daren't show his teeth until we're
well clear both of Southend and the steamer."

The man-of-war fired another blank charge, but the long, low vessel
darted along, shifting her course until she came under the bows of the
big ocean steamer.

The search-light, however, soon picked her up beyond, and a minute after
there was another report, followed this time by the shrill scream of a
shell, than which there are few sounds more threatening.  The shot flew
high, plunging with a splash far on the port side.

"They cannot hit us, Captain Pardoe, and we are rapidly leaving them."

"They are not trying, Miss Laura.  That was just by way of being more
peremptory.  In ten minutes we'll be beyond reach of their light, and
then there'll be another spell of safety, unless we are sunk.  Hullo,
here comes another."

There was another sullen roar, and the gunner had determined on a closer
call, for the ball touched the water not a hundred yards off, then
ricocheted to the Essex coast.

"The next one will have us," growled the Captain.

"Steamer's lights ahead!  Starboard bow!" hailed the lookout.

Eyes were taken off the following man-of-war, and strained into--the
darkness ahead, out of which presently there stood two lights.

"She's near us, Mr Webster, and thank your stars for a sound berth
to-night for that.  We'll slip by on the port, and then get away under
her bulk.  Do you think they see her?"

"No, sir; but the steamer 'll make the cruiser see her.  She must be in
a rare state.  Ah! there goes a rocket."

High into the black heavens ahead went a ball of fire, which presently
curved over and burst in a shower of blue.

"Looks like a navy signal, sir?"

"Very like.  If she is, we're caught hard and fast."

"There's an answer from the warship, sir," said Frank, who had turned
his eyes aft.

"I wish I understood the game," growled the Captain, banging his fist on
the bridge rail.  "Oh, she means it this time!"

A red tongue of flame leapt out, a great volume of white smoke; the
shot, keeping low, struck the water up, and then there was a loud crash,
followed by the whir of splinters.

Frank saw the dark figure at the wheel suddenly sink to the deck, and
without losing a moment he bounded down the narrow deck, seized the
handle as the wheel was beginning to revolve, and brought it round.

"She's paying off.  What in thunder's up with the wheel?" roared the
Captain.  "Mr Webster, take two men aft.  Starboard your helm."

Frank put his weight in, and with every sinew straining, brought the
vessel round, just as, like a runaway horse that takes the bit in its
iron jaws, she had threatened to come broadside on.

"What's wrong here?" panted Mr Webster anxiously, as he reached the
wheel.

"Steersman hit," said Frank shortly; "carry him off.  I'll manage this."

Mr Webster groped for the wounded man, drew him away, and then paused
to look up, for they were passing the vessel whose lights they had seen.
She was scarcely making any way, and the bulwarks were lined with pale
faces, among them those of many women.

"Thank Heaven, she's no cruiser; hurrah, boys, hurrah!"

The few hands took up the cheer, and the people on the deck above,
relieved from some nameless fear at seeing the dark ship slipping away,
responded with a feeble shout; the captain, from his lofty bridge,
sending a call through his hollow hands: "What's the meaning of this
foolery?"

"Ask the guardship," bellowed Captain Pardoe; "a little target practice.
Good-bye."

The little ship plunged into the welcome darkness, still maintaining her
terrific speed, and the search-light could not reach her.

Then the lights were lit, the wounded man carried below, and an
inspection made of the ship, when it was found that the iron bulwarks
had been pierced a little forward of the wheel.

"Send the steersman forward!" shouted the Captain.

Frank was relieved, and walked to the bridge.

"What's your name, my man?"

"Hume."

"What--the passenger?  I gave orders to have you locked in.  Never mind
that, sir; you did well, and I'm much obliged to you.  You're welcome to
the run of the ship.  That was a close shave, eh?  If it hadn't been for
the mercy of that steamer we'd have been five fathoms under.  You'd
better turn in now."

Frank lingered awhile to see whether the lady would appear, and then
went down below, where he saw her leaning, as it were, for support
against a saloon pillar, a handkerchief pressed to her forehead.

"It has been a trying night," he said gently.

"You had no right to leave your cabin," she replied--then swiftly
disappeared.

Frank looked down the narrow gangway, heard the bang of her door, and,
with his head up, and feeling mightily offended, entered his own tiny
cabin.

"She might have been civil, at least," he muttered.



CHAPTER FOUR.

A STRANGE CRAFT.

Hume had been to the Cape and back; he had also tossed about off the
Bristol Channel in a small yacht; but before morning he learnt that the
ocean could play more tricks with a ship than he had ever dreamt of in
the wildest tossing.  He was sleeping on the top bunk, for the sake of
the breeze from the open port, and was early awakened by a dream, in
which, with the thunder of waters in his ears, he had gone head foremost
down a cascade.

Had it been a dream?  He sat up, knocking his head against the roof, and
in his ears there was the same terrific roar, with a splashing sound,
and an unmistakable feeling of dampness.  A desperate lurch made him
cling to the brass rail; then, as the port dipped, he saw the sky-line
obscured by a moving wall, and was almost washed away by a belching
funnel of cold water that boomed on to the floor, and rushed over his
cabin, taking with it every movable object.  As the ship heeled over he
struggled, soaked and shivering, with the brass hinge of the
port-window, which he thrust in and held there until the ship rolled
under again.  With the backward swing he worked the screw in, then
lurched out from his sodden bed to the floor, inches deep in water, when
he groped for the switch and turned on the electric light.  His
portmanteau coming swiftly out from under the lower bunk, carried him
off his feet, and then bounded over his body, while his gun-case rammed
him viciously in the ribs.

Staggering up, he clambered into the lower bunk, and spent an awful hour
of misery with a babel of sounds racking his brain, and every possible
motion threatening dislocation to his body.  The small bunk was too
large for him.  He could not brace himself tight; but, like a pea in a
drum, was rattled from side to side and top to bottom, his head at one
time threatening to fly off as the bows dipped; his body sinking with
the most sickening desire to part with his head as the stern went under,
and his arms, legs, and head flopping about hopelessly to each dizzy
roll.

Then between, and coming through every motion, was the jarring of the
screw as the stern was lifted up--a most soul-disturbing sensation,
enough in itself to unsettle the innermost lashings, the smallest nerves
and sinews of the body.

"What the devil possesses the ship?" thought Frank, in a state of feeble
protest against this indignity of sea-sickness that held him in its
clammy grasp.  "Hulloa!" he groaned, as he heard someone staggering
along the alley-way.

The door was opened, and the new-comer dived in to the roll of the ship
as though he were violently impelled from the rear, ending up by
stumbling over the gun-case.

"That's the fifty-seventh time I've been knocked off my pins within an
hour by this infernal buck-jumper.  What have you been doing, messmate;
taking a shower-bath?"  And Mr Webster, the speaker, with a humorous
twinkle in his eyes, sat down on the edge of the bunk and laughed till
the tears ran down his cheeks.

Frank turned his head with a look of disgust, but the ship, pitching and
rolling at the same moment, sent him and his bedclothes in a heap to one
end of the bunk.

"God forgive me," said the officer, making futile attempts to keep his
feet out of the water; "but you're a most dismal object."

"What's the matter with the ship?" growled Frank.

Webster opened his mouth to laugh, but a vicious lurch banged his head
against the iron side of the cabin.

"Ship, do you call it?" he cried.  "Why, 'tis nothing but a steel tube
with an engine in it, and there's not a ship afloat that would not ride
over this sea without a heave."

"Isn't it rough, then?"

"Man, we're just in the Channel, with a cross current and the apology
for a ripple, but this devil of a sawn-off scaffold-pole just wallows in
it like a porpoise.  Come up on deck, and you'll blush with shame to
think you should have gone under to such little waves, scarce big enough
to wet the frills of a Brighton beach-wader."

As if to belie this imputation of mildness, a sea came on board with a
crash and rushed along the deck with an angry swirl, making noise enough
to spur Frank on to make an effort.

"That's right," said Webster, taking him by the arm.  "Now come and have
a nip and a bite."  Together they rolled out of the cabin and down the
alley to the officers' box, where Hume duly swallowed a stiff glass of
grog, and was suited with a shiny covering of oilskin overalls.  Then,
holding on to anything that came handy, they clambered on deck, where
the keen morning air very soon dispelled the nausea contracted in the
stuffy cabin.

It was a brilliant morning, with wisps of wind-lashed clouds scurrying
across the clear blue sky, and a buoyant property in the salt-laden air
that brightened the eyes.  It had brought a flush to the cheeks of the
lady, whose figure, clad in oils, had been the first thing to catch and
hold Frank's gaze.  She stood on the low bridge, holding with both hands
to the rail, her feet braced and her body bending to the dips and roll
of the steamer with a grace that even the heavy tarpaulin could not
hide.  The spray which came aft in a white and gleaming drizzle
glistened on her covering, and ever and again with a low laugh she would
bend her head to an unusually heavy gust of wet tossed up by the
plunging bows of the steamer.

"Isn't she a beauty!" growled Webster, brushing his hand across his eyes
to wipe away the drops.

"She is, indeed!" murmured Frank.  "May I ask who she is?"

Webster followed his companion's gaze, and led him forward.  "I'm not
talking of her," he said, dropping his voice; "and you'd best leave her
out of your thoughts, young fellow.  It's this craft I mean; this
narrow-gutted rib of a steel monument, that's fit for nothing but to be
stuck on end with a lamp in its stern, when it would make a good
lighthouse.  Ugh! the brute.  See her bury her nose in that sea like a
pig in a mash-tub."

This wave was a gentle swell of dull green, covered with a lace-like
tracing of air bubbles in round patches of white, and the top of it
fringed with a line of hissing foam.  A lumbering coal-ship would have
ridden over it without wetting her eye-holes, but this strange craft,
with a snort, leapt into the very heart of it, tossing up a column of
spray, while the divided sea swelled up to the gunwales and foamed along
the side with ripping noise, and went aft in a swirl of eddying
whirlpools.

"Tell me," said Webster, flicking the wet from his sou'wester, "what
sort of a ship she is."

Frank, standing wide on the slippery deck, cast his eyes fore and aft
with growing wonder at the long, narrow shape of her, at the inward
slope of her heavy bulwarks, at the wide, short funnels and sharp bows.

"I can't liken her to anything but a wasp or a shark," said he, "there's
such a vicious air about her."

"Ay, she carries a sting in her tail and a devilish set of teeth.  She's
ugly as a shark, and as narrow and vicious as a wasp.  Well, what is
she?"

"She's a deuced bad sea boat, anyhow," said Frank, as the deck suddenly
sloped away at a fearful angle.  "Is she a yacht?"

"You've hit it first shot.  She's a yacht--that's what she is--a nice
pleasure-boat for ladies and children, with engines strong enough to get
twenty-seven knots out of her, and steel frame like a man-o'-war.
What's that you're leaning against?"

"A ship's boat, I suppose, covered with tarpaulin."

"Right again, sir; that's the yacht's dinghy, fitted with velvet
cushions.  Take a peep."

Frank looked under the tarpaulin, and saw the vast butt and machinery of
a gun.

"That's the yacht's popgun, a four-inch quick-firing toy," and Webster's
jolly face broke into a grin.

"She's not a yacht, then?"

"Lord, how fresh you are!  She's no more a yacht than a bull-terrier is
a pet pug--she's a torpedo-catcher.  Do you mean to say you had no
suspicion when that ironclad opened fire on us last night?"

"I knew there was something dark afoot.  A torpedo-catcher!  Is this the
_Swift_, the boat that was seized by the Customs authorities last week,
on the suspicion that she had been bought for the rebel fleet at Rio de
Janeiro?"

"The same, my boy; and seeing that you took an active part in her
escape, it wouldn't be safe for you to talk about this adventure.
You've committed high treason, or some offence as bad, and would to a
dead certainty be drawn and quartered."  Here Webster broke into another
fit of laughter, ending up by smacking Frank on the back.  "You're in
the same boat as we are, and if she doesn't drown you, or roll you
overboard, or knock your brains out, you may live to be shot."

"Many thanks," said Frank, with an answering smile.  "And what fate is
reserved for you?"

"Oh, as for me, I'll die of a falling chimney.  You feel better now,
don't you?"

"Thanks to your cheerful predictions."

"Then come and report yourself to our chief, and harkee, you'll be
offered a billet as captain of the cook's galley.  Take my advice, and
accept it; it's comforting, sustaining, and by far the safest place in
the ship."

They went aft, now breasting the slanting deck as the bows dipped, now
bending back to the answering lift, and came up to the bridge, where the
Captain gave them a surly nod, and the lady flashed a smile on them.

"The new hand, mam, come to report himself.  I found him afloat in his
cabin with a feeling that he was an empty nothing, but he is better
now," and Webster turned a perfectly grave face upon Hume, his voice
expressing the deepest sympathy.

"I am indebted to Mr Webster for his kindness, but he is premature in
classing me as a new hand."

"If you will come up here, Mr --"

"Hume," said Frank briefly, filling up the pause.

"Mr Hume, you may talk with less discomfort."

Webster, with a whispered word to Frank to "come off his stilts,"
lurched to the chart-room, and Frank, with a feeling of resentment at
the girl's cold speech, mounted the steps to the bridge, where he waited
with what patience he could muster until she chose to take her gaze off
the sea, which she did presently, turning her magnificent eyes, and
letting them dwell on his face in a calm scrutiny.

"Did Mr Webster tell you," she asked in slow, formal speech, "that I
had an offer to make?"

"He did suggest that I might hope for a berth in the cook's galley."

She did not smile at this as a man would have done, but frowned
slightly.  "I am--rather, the ship is--short-handed, and I wish you to
take your turn in the officers' watch."

"But, Miss--" Here he paused with an inquiring look at her.

"You can call me madam," she said.

He bowed, with a smile at her composure.  "I am obliged for your
confidence in me; but I am not competent to fill a responsible place."

"You showed yourself last night equal to an emergency," was the quick
reply.

"Anyone could have done as well.  But, madam, even if I were competent,
I am not sure I could give my services unless I were satisfied as to the
nature of the enterprise upon which this warship is embarked."

She threw her head back with a haughty toss, and with a ring in her
voice, replied: "I am not at liberty to satisfy your curiosity."

"Pardon me," he continued quietly, though his cheeks flushed, "I do not
wish to pry into your secrets, but it is impossible for me to act in
this matter blindfold, especially as I am not here of my own free will."

"Then you refuse to help me?"

"I would help you willingly," he replied eagerly, "if you tell me I can
do so without hurt to my conscience or my country."

"I will give you no assurance whatever.  Do you, or do you not, accept
my offer?" she said imperiously.

"No, madam, I cannot."

"Then go back to your cabin; I will take the watch myself."  She turned
away with an angry glow in her dark eyes, and he, after pausing awhile,
slowly descended to the deck.



CHAPTER FIVE.

DOWN THE CHANNEL.

"Well, shipmate," said Webster, coming out of the chart house, "have you
been promoted from the saloon to the bridge, passing over the cook on
the way, just after the old style when a lord-in-waiting, who did not
know a brig from a bumboat, was appointed admiral?  No apprenticeship,
no navigation, no examination, but an order from the Commodore: `Mr
Hume, sir, please take the third watch.'"

"No," was the gloomy response; "I could not accept."

"You swab!  You mean to tell me you've declined to help the Commodore?"

"I presume you refer to the young lady?"

"Presume be damned.  Have you no eyes, man, no gallantry; can you stand
by and see a girl like that eat her heart out with sorrow and anxiety?
Not that I care a brass button whether you help or not, for double work
doesn't hurt me; but just think what she'll be like after a fortnight in
this crazy roundabout."

"You forget I know nothing about the lady, nor this ship, nor its
mission."

"And what's that got to do with your keeping an eye on the binnacle, or
a cheerful face that will do something to keep her spirits up?  As for
the matter of that, I know precious little about the object of this
voyage, but it's enough for me to know that she wants my help, and that
Captain Pardoe is in command."

"It is not enough for me.  My knowledge of Captain Pardoe does not
inspire me with much confidence in his designs, and you forget the
circumstances under which I was trapped."

"Well, well, you're just like the rest.  You landsmen don't mind what
you do ashore, but no sooner do you come aboard than you're as nice with
your conscience as a lady's-maid with her mistress's borrowed gown.  I
warrant you'd not trouble your head about the policy of a merchant's
business if you entered his service, not though he was selling bad pork
to sailors or robbing the widows."

"You're going rather wide of the mark, Mr Webster," said Frank sternly.

"There, now, you've taken offence, and that's what makes me sad to think
of you tossing like a log in your cabin--like that cold-blooded creature
of a Commins who's drinking champagne in his bunk, the swab."

"Mr Webster!" hailed the Captain.

"Yes, sir!"

"Take the remainder of my watch, please, and keep a sharp look-out on
the starboard quarter."

Webster swung quickly to the bridge, where he touched his hat to the
lady, and then braced himself fast to sweep the channel with the glass.

Captain Pardee came down slowly, and reeled a little on the deck, as
though he had taken too much grog, thought Frank, as he caught him by
the arm.

"Thank 'ee," said he.  "I've not quitted the bridge before since we left
the Pool, and my legs are rather stiff."

He staggered on to the small gangway and descended, leaving Frank to his
own reflections, which were not very pleasant.  If a man so tough and
strong, and inured to hardship, as Captain Pardoe evidently was, felt
the strain of the long watch on board, it was clearly beyond the power
of a girl to undertake any part of work so trying.

She was still standing on the bridge, her face wet with the driving
spray, and a tense look about the mouth which told of nerves
high-strung.  She was looking fixedly before her, and did not, as she
had on her first coming on deck, bend her head to the flying spume in
playful defiance.  As he watched her, hesitating between his wish to
help and his stubborn regard for his own rights, he saw her lips
tremble, and that settled the matter.

"Madam," he said, reaching her side in a moment, "I am ready to help."

She withdrew her face from the sea, and he saw that her thoughts had
been far from him or the ship, and in some confusion he repeated his
words.  A faint flush came to her cheek, and a brighter look in her eye.

"I'm so glad," she whispered, and Frank, feeling something coquettish in
this, flushed himself.  With the faintest smile, she continued: "I come
of a superstitious race, and your refusal, so brusquely given, too, had
shaken my faith in my own power, and what is of more importance, in the
success of my undertaking.  I was reading `failure' out there in the
tumbling waters--But now you have reassured me.  That is why I am glad."

He flushed more deeply yet to think how easily she read his thoughts.

"You must forgive me," he said, with a frank smile, "but I only wanted
an excuse to satisfy my reasonable suspicions."

"And you have found it?" she said, with an answering smile.

"Yes; I think I have."

"Then you do not think that I am likely to menace the security of
England with this craft?"

"I am in ignorance of your intentions still, but I am willing to believe
that you are bent upon no desperate or unjust enterprise."

"Desperate it may prove," she said proudly, "but unjust it is not.  No,
no, believe me, sir, if there is any cause which would claim the
sympathy of a brave man it is this upon which I am set."

She rested her fingers on his arm, and looked at him earnestly with eyes
dewed with unshed tears.

What emotion could it be, he thought, so powerful as to move one by
nature so proud and self-reliant?  He felt that further suspicion on his
part would be contemptible.

"I am no seaman, madam," he said, "but I may be of some service."

"Mr Webster, will you tell Mr Hume in what way he may best assist us?"

"Ay, ay, madam."

"Then I leave the ship in your hands, gentlemen, until Captain Pardoe
has rested."  She bowed her head and left the bridge.

"So, after all, you've taken up arms against your lawful sovereign, and
all for the smile of a woman, with not so much to show as the Queen's
shilling.  Shake, my son!"

"Don't talk rot, and tell me what I'm to do."

"Is that the way to address your superior officer?  Harkee, sir, for
less than that I've clapped a man in irons.  But I forgive you.  Put
your eye to the business end of this glass and tell me what craft is
steaming up on the weather bows.  My eyes are dim for the want of
sleep."

What with the swing and plunging of the "catcher," it was some time
before Frank could get the object within view, and when he did it was
but a fleeting glimpse he had.

"It's a Cape mail-boat," he said; "I can make that out from her red
funnels and grey hull."

"Good.  Now, would you know a warship if she showed at that distance?"

"Possibly, from her unusual breadth of beam--not to speak of her guns."

"Well, my lad, keep a keen lookout, for there'll be a lookout kept for
us off the Isle of Wight, and be most particular in noting small craft.
Set a thief to catch a thief, and as likely as not they'll send a
`catcher' out from Portsmouth, and a cruiser from Plymouth.  If you see
anything strange in the movements of a steamer, blow down this pipe, and
I'll be up in a brace of shakes.  I must have a wink before to-night;"
and Webster, fetching a terrific yawn, went off down below.

Hume was left alone on the bridge, and, as far as he could see, there
were only two other men on deck--the steersman inside the wheelhouse,
and a seaman in a look-out shelter forward.  It was a strange turn of
the wheel which had placed him there in temporary charge of a
torpedo-catcher, bound on he knew not what mad mission, and he shook his
head once or twice in grave doubts of his own action, and of the conduct
of those who so lightly trusted him--conduct which seemed to him to
smack of the reckless.  However, he entered upon his task without
further thought of the consequences, letting his eyes sweep from right
to left over the grey waters, and lingering here and there on a sail or
a streamer of smoke.  At first he eyed every ship with suspicion and
fidgeted when a fishing lugger drove by before the wind, the crew
peering under the boom at the long, low, swift craft; but after a time
he reasoned he need fear no Craft which sailed on a parallel course up
or down channel, and looked out only for sign of a ship making across.
The sun mounted higher in the heavens, the wind fell away, and the
_Swift_ grew gradually steadier, and he could walk up and down the
bridge without having to hold on at each step.

Close on noon Captain Pardoe came up to take a "sight," retiring to the
chart house to work out his bearings.  The man at the wheel was
relieved, and Mr Webster reappeared, looking as jolly as before, with a
merry twinkle in his eye.

"Anything in view, Mr Hume?"

"Nothing but a couple of sailers and an ocean tramp, as I judge that
steamer to be."

Webster took a look round to satisfy himself.

"Now," he said, "you go below for a snack and a snooze.  You'll find
some tack on the table.  Tumble into my cabin, as yours is too wet."

Frank, nothing loath, went down, and was soon in a sound sleep, out of
which he was aroused well on in the afternoon by a rough shaking, to
find Webster bending over him with a sparkle in his eyes.

"There's some fun afoot, my lad, with the prospect of sudden death and
damp burial, so hurry up," and the breezy first officer went like a
tornado down the narrow alley.

Frank was quickly on deck, and found Webster talking to the look-out
man, while Captain Pardoe and Miss Laura were on the bridge anxiously
watching some object on the starboard bows.  Looking in that direction,
he could see nothing but a heavy streamer of smoke tailing away to the
north, plainly showing that the steamer was on a course that would
intercept the "destroyer."  Mounting to the bridge, he sighted the
double funnels and heavy top hamper of a large vessel with the
unmistakable cut of an ironclad.

"What do you make her?" said the Captain gloomily, more to break the
silence than to ask for information.

Frank took the proffered glass, and bringing it to bear, it revealed two
barbette towers, with long guns projecting, sharp bows heavily scrolled
with gilt, and a mass of tumbled waters pouring before her rush.

"She is coming along at a tremendous pace, Captain."

"Ay, eighteen knots, and she'll be across our bows in a quarter of an
hour, if she doesn't ram us to gain a little experience."

"I am sure she cannot be in pursuit of us," said Miss Laura, stamping
her foot.  "How could she hit off our position so exactly, when we have
made little smoke and stood well away from the English coast?  She may
be a French cruiser."

The Captain shook his head.

"They'd log our course as soon as they received all particulars by wire,
and from the crow's-nest on the masts they'd see us sooner than we could
find them."

"Well, then, we must run away; and if she is only doing eighteen knots
we should have no difficulty in escaping."

"True, ma'am, if it was a stern chase; but she'll have us right under
her bows."

"And what will you do if she orders us to stop?" and the young lady
fixed a burning glance upon the dark and troubled face of the Captain.

"I'll take my orders from you, Miss Laura," he said gravely; "even
though she turns her big guns on us."

"Well, then, signal to the engineer to cram on all steam.  We won't get
under her guns, at any rate."

The Captain smiled, then touched the bell, and the sharp summons below
was answered by prompt stoking.

Frank stood back, an amazed and silent witness of this scene on the
little bridge.  It seemed a thing incredible and unreal that a girl
should have control in a matter fraught with such a responsibility and
such peril.  He glanced keenly at the Captain to see whether or no he
were humouring the young lady; but there was no sign in that dark and
gloomy face except an air of grim resignation, while, though Miss Laura
showed, in the imperious lift of her head and in her flashing eyes,
visible tokens of intense feeling, she gave no trace of a mind unhinged.

"Heave the log, Mr Webster."

Webster's voice rang out cheerily; and soon the long line was paying out
in the foaming track.  A bare-legged and brawny-armed tar, taking the
line over his shoulder, staggered forward with it when its swift race
had been checked by the minute hand, and Webster himself put his weight
into the work, seeing which, Frank went down to help, for it's no
child's play towing in the line from the grasp of the rushing waters.

"Twenty-three, sir," sang out Webster; "and no bad speed, too, in the
open," he added to Frank.

In a few minutes the space between the two ships had greatly lessened,
and the name of the cruiser could be picked out on her bows.

"Do you see that, Miss Laura? there's no doubt she's after us."

"I see no change in her, Captain."

"She has shifted her course in answer to our increased speed, and
instead of being stem on, you can now see almost the length of her
broadside."

"She's got her bow chaser cleared, sir," said Webster, in a tone of
pleasurable excitement.

A grand and formidable object the warship appeared now, sending before
her terrible bows a white avalanche of water, her white decks lined with
men, and the dark muzzles of her guns threatening destruction.  And no
less deadly in aspect, though on a lesser scale, was the low and swifter
craft sullenly plunging on like some stealthy panther retreating,
snarling and half reluctant, before the advance of a royal tiger.

"It is strange she does not signal," muttered the Captain, "unless she
means to speak us."

The cruiser was so near now that every man on board the port side could
be distinctly seen, and it was clear that where the two lines met the
ships would be within less than a cable's length.

"She made another point to starboard," said Webster.  "If she doesn't
give way she'll be on top of us."

"She won't give way an inch," said the Captain bitterly; "and she's in
her rights as a Queen's ship.  Stand by, below!" he shouted.

The two ships tore along, the cruiser terrible and silent, except for
the foaming of the waves, and every soul on the smaller vessel held his
breath.

"Reverse the starboard screw!" shouted Captain Pardoe; "bring her round
two points on the starboard!"

The long craft trembled as the one screw revolved in opposition to the
other, then she bore away and darted under the stern of the great ship,
heeling over from the waves that swelled up in the wake.

The cruiser came round with a stately sweep, bringing up on the port
side on a parallel course; and they all waited for the summons from the
commander.  It came, ringing, sharp and peremptory:

"Lay-to, there!"

Miss Laura looked at Captain Pardoe, with her hand to her heart, and he
signalled to the engineer for more speed.  The little vessel darted
forward, her stem settling down like the tail of a duck taking to
flight, a huge wave rising up right above the rails.

The cruiser sank astern; but from her bows there leapt a great ball of
smoke, followed by a deafening report.

"We know what that means," said Webster, with a smile, "and she'll play
skittles with us presently."

But the cruiser held on without further notice, sinking further astern
with each minute.

The distance between widened to a mile, and still she gave no other
sign, and those on the bridge looked at each other in wonder.

"You see, Captain," said Miss Laura, betwixt a sob and a laugh, "I was
right.  She did not know us, and we are safe."

"Steamers ahead!" came the hoarse cry from the look-out, like a croak of
ill-omen.

Glasses were quickly raised for a long scrutiny of two small steamers
low down in the water.

"Well?" said the Captain, with a look at Webster.

"Pilot boats mayhap," said that officer, with a queer grimace and a
swift glance at the young lady, whose face had paled again to the lips
at this new anxiety.

"Oh, are they?" she asked, with a troubled look at the Captain.

"No, Miss Laura," he said sadly; "they're torpedo boats.  That's why the
cruiser let us slip.  They mean to take this boat without injury to her
or us, and they've got us in a trap."



CHAPTER SIX.

A NARROW ESCAPE.

Torpedo boats!  Two insignificant smudges of black, lifting and bowing
like a couple of dingy sea-birds in a waste of waters, wretched little
things that could be stowed away on the promenade deck of a mail
steamer, and yet the appearance of one of them among a fleet of heavy
ironclads would create as much consternation as a gadfly among a mob of
cattle.

On came these mosquitoes of the navy, with nothing to distinguish one
from the other but a white number on the black funnel, and the honest
merchant seamen on the bridge of the _Swift_ almost shuddered at the
sight, recognising in them the incarnation of stealth and mischief.  The
torpedo-catcher, however, abated nothing of her speed.  Was she not,
after all, built to destroy these venomous midgets of the ocean?  They
were her game, and a brawny-armed seaman growled out his opinion of the
relative fighting values of the crafts.

"Sink the little brutes," he said, shooting a squirt of tobacco juice;
"run over 'em, blow 'em up, send them to--"

His deep voice swelled from a murmur to a shout, and a melancholy seaman
at the wheel nodded his head vigorously in hearty approval.

The first officer winked at Frank and pushed his big oilskin cap over
his head.

"What an almighty smash there would be if the Captain gave the word.
We'd sink the torpedo boats and the cruiser would sink us."

Frank began tugging at his small moustache as the unreasoning fighting
impulse seized hold of him.  He forgot that his own countrymen were the
objects of his increasing animosity.  Underneath his feet he felt the
quiver of the deck as the long vessel darted along, and the speed
affected him with the same exaltation that boils through the blood of a
cavalry-man when his horse has got into the desperate swing of the
charge.

"Clear the gun for action," shouted the Captain; and Webster, at the
order, sprang over the bridge to the deck.  Four men were at his side,
the tarpaulin flew off, and the long black gun emerged.

Frank drew closer to the young lady.  "Won't you come below?" he said.

She did not hear, and he touched her with his hand.

She turned her eyes on him, magnificent and wild.

"Had you not better come below?"

She shook off his hand with an impatient gesture.

The long gun was already charged, and Webster stood by whistling, his
hand ready to touch her off.

"Send the shot over that boat on the port side.  Make it a close call,
and she'll shear off."

Webster climbed up on the butt of his gun, took a long glance over the
grey waters at the black funnel that alone showed, and without troubling
himself about the reckonings for range finding, ventured an opinion:

"Is she a mile?"

"About that, sir," growled the big Quartermaster, Black Henderson.

Webster jumped down, and, with a smile on his face, fired the gun.

There was a deafening report, which shivered the glass in the
chart-room, and when they drove through the smoke, and steadied
themselves after the shock, they caught faintly the scream of the shell,
and saw it stream high above the black boat.

"That'll scare the life out of them," growled a sailor, with a chuckle.

He forgot that there were men after his own metal on board, and the
little boat paid not the least attention to the warning.

A little patch of red instead streamed out from her bare pole of a mast,
the meteor flag of Old England, which no British seaman can see without
a glow of pride, and a look of consternation came into their faces.

They had forgotten about the cruiser steaming in their wake, showing
nothing now but its white fighting deck, surmounted by two huge funnels;
but she kept a watchful eye on the swift catcher, and at the audacious
act of hostility had bristled with anger.  Two small bow chasers
projecting from the bulge in her bows spoke together, and a sharp
reminder in the shape of a nine-pounder went screaming over the low
craft, to plunge in the sea a cable's length ahead, while the second, in
a sort of devil's "duck-and-drake" hops, sped away.

Captain Pardoe turned swiftly, and shook his fist at the cruiser.

Miss Laura had ducked her head at the vicious scream of one shot, and
started aside at the angry splash and wild screech of the other, then
stood trembling from head to foot while she bit her lip in vexation at
her weakness.

Captain Pardoe noted her emotion, and swallowing his own rage, said
gruffly:

"Shall we give in, mam?"

"No," she said; "take no notice of me, please.  Keep right on, Captain.
Even if we are hit, our machinery may escape injury.  You know what
there is at stake, and if--if I am--if anything happens to me, promise
me you will do your best."

For answer Captain Pardoe took her hand, and raised it to his lips.

"Now," said he gruffly, "you must go below."

"I cannot; you must not ask me; you are endangering your lives for me,
and I must be with you."

"Mr Hume, please take this lady to the saloon; and hark you, sir," he
added in a whisper, "lock her in."

Frank looked at the young lady in dismay, and she, betwixt surprise at
the order and indignation at the intended affront, stood silent.

"Do you hear me, sir?"

There was a dull report from the stern, and again there came that
nerve-shaking scream.

Frank seized the lady in his arms, lifted her up, and staggered towards
the steps.

"Put me down," she gasped.

At the steps he put her down, and, with tears of mortification in her
eyes, she soundly boxed his ears, then went down the steps to the deck,
and into the saloon, while he stood with a curious feeling that what he
had done bound her to him.

"What's the matter with your cheek?" said Webster, coming up; "seems to
be redder on one side than the other.  There, now, don't get angry.
Lord love you, I'd sooner face that cruiser than attempt to carry the
Commodore; but I thank you for it, my son.  The sight of her up here put
my heart in my mouth.  Are you going to run 'em down, sir, or blow 'em
up?"

The Captain had his glass to his eye again, and held it there for some
time, slowly sweeping the sea.

"Neither, Mr Webster," he said finally, with a sigh of satisfaction, "I
am going to steam at half-speed."

He signalled to the engine-room.

"Hoist the distress signal, Mr Webster, that'll serve the purpose."

"Do I understand, Captain Pardee, that you intend to give this vessel
up?"

"Understand what you like, my lad, but do what I order."

The ship had got a tremendous way on, but she perceptibly slackened
speed, and the sailors, noticing this, got together in a group,
directing surly glances at the bridge.

Webster folded his arms, and faced the Captain.

"Do you mean to surrender this ship, Captain Pardoe?"

"And if I do so intend, what then?"

"Why, then, I'll take command."

"The devil!" said the Captain, making a step forward, grasping his long
glass as a cudgel.  A moment they faced each other; then a grim smile
hovered about the Captain's thin lips.  "You're a queer fellow, Jim, and
a mutinous one; and I don't know why I should waste words over you.
Take this glass and look over that boat on the starboard."

Webster, with a keen glance at his captain, did as he was told.

"Well, what do you see?"

"I see a mast with cross-trees."

"Can you see the hull or rigging below the yards?"

"No, sir, there's a layer of fog."

"Ah, now, bend the flag on."

Webster took another look at the Captain, then bent the Union Jack
reversed to the peak.

They looked at the cruiser, and she at once signalled the torpedo boats,
which simultaneously turned almost in their own lengths, and one on each
bow, steamed a quarter of a mile in advance.

The cruiser came on hand over hand, and Captain Pardee's glance turned
repeatedly from her to the grey belt ahead.

He touched the bell, and the catcher responded with slightly increased
speed, which soon brought her within hail of the torpedo boats.

An officer on the port boat, clad from head to foot in oils, all
glistening with wet, leant over the bridge, and through his hollowed
hands called, "Slacken speed, sir!"

"All right; what's the fuss about?"

"Slacken speed!"

"So I am."

There came a hail from the starboard boat.

"Make away, Number 4; the cruiser will settle this matter."

The cruiser was signalling again, and the torpedo boats began to shear
off.

Captain Pardoe measured the distance to the fog, and called on the
engineer for full speed; and before the torpedo boats had got well out
of reach of the cruiser's guns, had she then opened fire, the _Swift_
darted by them.  When she was out of the range of their torpedoes, had
they resolved to fire, he gave one of them his wash, placing it between
him and the cruiser, and thus attaining his object, which was to stop
the cruiser's fire until he could make a dash for the shelter of the
fog.

This feat was greeted with a ringing shout from the crew, and the men
shot admiring glances at the Captain.



CHAPTER SEVEN.

OBJECT OF THE VOYAGE.

Into the welcome security of the fog they plunged, and dashed on
impetuously, regardless of danger to themselves or other ships from
collision, and heedless of the rules about half-speed.

"Now is our chance!" growled the Captain, "and we'll not lose it.  If
the fog's only deep enough the cruiser will not see us again this side
the Atlantic."

The fog closed round in damp clinging wraiths, affecting everyone not
only with an acute feeling of discomfort, but with a sense of impending
misfortune.  The sea, visible only for a few yards, came with a heave
out of the white bank and went by into mysterious obscurity with a
subdued swish, while the ship went on wailing hoarsely.  Those on deck
thrust their hands deep into their pockets, hunched their shoulders, and
stared with white faces at the drifting mists and the beads of wet on
the ropes.  Between the hoarse, choking cries of the foghorn there was a
heavy silence, in which the ear was strained to detect some sound of
life beyond the impenetrable cloak, and the silence was unbroken by any
word or motion, for each man stood where he was when the ship dashed
into this mantle of death--an obscurity that is worse than the blackest
of southern midnights, and is more dreaded by the mariner than the sound
of breakers on a lee shore.  A seagull appearing out of nowhere, swooped
upon the ship with a startling cry, and disappeared like a wraith of fog
more solid than the other gliding and twisting coils of mist.  And the
steamer plunged on, wailing and roaring in an ecstasy of mingled fear
and rage as though it also felt the depressing influence.  Each one was
impressed with an actual sense of insecurity in the headlong speed of
the craft; the vibration from the stroke of the engines appeared too
great for the stability of the frame; the dip and roll seemed to be at a
perilous angle, and dark forms shaped themselves ahead, threatening the
horrors of a collision.  These, it is true, melted away, being but
darker masses of fog, charged, probably, with imprisoned volumes of
smoke from another steamer; but the presence of this smoke, judged soon
for what it was by its acrid smell, disclosed the imminence of the very
danger they had anticipated.  At any moment there might loom out of the
mist a solid mass in place of these darker patches, and at the speed
they were going nothing could prevent the shock and dread disaster of a
collision.

"Keep a good lookout forward, Mr Webster," sang out the Captain, in
tones that were muffled as though he were calling from a well.

"We are doing that, sir," said Webster, who had gone forward as soon as
the fog bank was entered; "but the spray is blinding."

The Captain growled under his breath, poked his nose against the
binnacle, and then glanced into the driving mist overhead.

"It's lightening above, Mr Hume, eh?"

"Yes, sir; but there appears to be a strong streamer of smoke on the
port side."

"Ay, I noticed it before; but it certainly is thicker.  I'll give 'em a
call."

The steamer's siren sent forth a rending cry from its brazen throat.

Almost immediately there came a response--a wild, hoarse roar
terminating in a frantic screech.

"Where away, Mr Webster?"

"Port, sir."

"Starboard, sir."

"Dead ahead!" were the conflicting cries.

The siren flung another wild cry into the wet gloom--a cry that was at
once imploring, menacing, and complaining.

It was answered again by a roar as of a great sea beast in fear of pain.

Then followed a deep silence, while every man strained his eyes.

At the same instant they saw her, a great mass looming out suddenly just
ahead.

"Starboard!" shouted the Captain, in a voice of thunder.

The _Swift_ leant over as she answered to her helm.  There was a noise
of shouting from the towering decks of the strange steamer, a feeling of
impending doom, as her iron side rolled over towards the low craft, but
next instant she was swallowed up in the gloom astern.

The Captain drew a long breath, and the men turned and looked at each
other in silence, their faces still white and fixed.

"That was a close shave, Mr Hume?"

"Yes, sir," said Frank, wiping his forehead; "I'd rather be in daylight
with the cruiser opening fire than pass through such a moment again."

"Ay, my lad, it was touch and go, and by the mercy of a good seaman at
the wheel we didn't touch."

Webster came with a swing up the steps, and clapped Frank on the back.

"I told you she'd drown you before you'd have done with her."

"Well, I'm not drowned yet."

"No; but, by gum, you were near it!  Did you see the cook's face at the
gangway when we rushed by?  Lord, I nearly died with laughter at his
sudden gasp, and I shouldn't wonder but he's got his mouth open yet.  By
the way, the Commodore's down at the cuddy door, and by the same token
she's got her mouth open in surprise.  Why not go down and tell her the
news?"

Frank accepted the hint, and very soon was beside a tall figure, dimly
seen in the shadow of the door; but, having got so far, he was at a loss
to proceed.  It was a stilted form of address to call her "madam;" "Miss
Laura" was at once too familiar, and smacked of servility.  Why had they
not told him her name and have done with it; why, in fact, could she not
tell it him herself?  Having now mastered his first boyish fears and awe
of her beauty, and warmly conscious that he stood on a different footing
to her since he had boldly lifted her in his arms, he determined to
brush away the mystery which hedged her in.

"I beg your pardon," he said, "but I hope you will forgive me for
obeying the Captain's orders just now."

"Ah! is that you, Mr Hume?  Can you tell me how we are getting on,
since I am not able to judge for myself?"  She spoke gently, and he
caught the gleam of a smile.

"You must admit that, though the Captain was somewhat peremptory, the
necessity was urgent."

"And you must admit, Mr Hume, that he was obeyed with singular
promptitude, which told of distinct pleasure on your part at the
prospect of relieving the bridge of my presence.  But still, you have
not told me of our position."

"We are well away from the cruiser, and when we have pierced this bank
of fog, which we may do soon, as it is growing lighter, we should be
free from danger of pursuit.  Pray, however, do not think that we wished
to keep the bridge to ourselves, and if I was presumptuous to act
promptly, it was because I was anxious for your safety.  You have not
said whether you forgive me?"

"Is my safety, then, of any interest to you?" she said, turning her eyes
upon him, and laying a hand upon his arm with the look and action of a
born coquette.

"Not with me only," he said earnestly, "but, if a new shipmate may say
so, with every member of the crew.  Mr Webster told me his heart was in
his mouth when he saw you in danger."

"He is a brave fellow," she said softly, "and modest with it all--a man
who would give his life with a smile for anyone he liked.  It sometimes
distresses me to think that I should have led him and the others upon
this venture, dangerous as it must be."

"Will you share in the danger?"

"Assuredly.  This boat is mine.  I had bought it when it was seized by
the Customs.  The enterprise is of my planning, and what danger there is
will be shared by me."  She lifted her head as she spoke.

"Why should you venture upon anything that brings danger to yourself?
Surely you have friends, relatives, who would have acted for you?"

She stood silent for some time, and looked at him curiously for his
boldness.

"I have only one relative, Mr Hume, and he is my father, a prisoner in
the hands of Balmaceda.  It is to rescue him that I have risked the
passage of the Thames, and if I cannot save his life I will die with
him."  There was subdued passion in her voice, and her hands were
clenched.

"Your father a prisoner in Brazil!  How can they imprison an
Englishman?"

"He is no Englishman.  My father is Manuel da Gama Lobo de Anstrade,
Colonel in the Army, and member of a noble Spanish family, treacherously
seized by that ruffian President."

"But you--surely you are of English descent?"

"My mother was English, Mr Hume, and I have been educated in England."
She paused for some moments, then continued quickly: "I have told you
more than is known by any on board, except Mr Commins and Captain
Pardoe.  But I am seldom misled, and I am sure you will respect my
confidence."

"I will, Miss de Anstrade."

"You must not mention my name.  If you knew the Brazilians you would
understand.  Were this ship to fall into the hands of the President's
party, and my name were discovered, there would be little mercy shown.
Ah! what fiendish punishment they can devise!  Luiz, my brother, they
made him walk blindfolded over the precipice at Garanagua."

She spoke scarcely above a whisper, but with an intentness that thrilled
her listener, and her eyes were fixed before her, wide open and
gleaming.  He had seen that look before, as she stood on the bridge
gazing into the tossing seas ahead, and yet seeing nothing.  Now he knew
that a terrible picture was before her eyes.

Instinctively he took her hand.

"I am grieved I should have awakened these memories," he said gently.

"You have not awakened them, my friend; they are burnt in."

He stood there in silence, holding her hand, which was like a lump of
ice in his warm grasp, and which she allowed to remain there,
unconscious of his touch.  He could mark the hollow under her eyes, the
lines of pain between her dark brows, and he sighed.

She sighed too; her mind came back from its troubled wanderings in the
far Brazil, and she looked down at her hand, drawing it away, and
regarding him with haughty disfavour.

"I am sorry," he said.

"You are strangely daring, Mr Hume."

"My thought was to show my sympathy, and I could not find words."

"It is true.  You English are slow of speech, but quick to act.  That is
why, in this matter, I am trusting to my mother's countrymen."

"Will you trust me also, my Captain?"

"You!  But we are to land you at Madeira."

"I am in your service already for a time; will you not engage me
permanently?"

"But you do not understand.  We cannot hope to escape the Brazilian
warships without a fight, and they are but the first of the dangers to
be met and overcome."

"And yet you will face those dangers?"

"For my father's freedom!"

"But Mr Webster, Captain Pardoe, these sailors, what of them?"

"They are men accustomed to danger; they know the risks they run, and
are satisfied with their reward."

He flushed at this plain speech, but continued:

"And yet a few hours ago you urged me to help you?"

"And you at first declined?"

"I knew nothing then; but now you have taken me into your confidence,
and I would be a poor thing, indeed, if I were to step ashore at the
first opportunity.  I may not be able to do much, but--"

"You will see I do not run into needless danger--is that it, Mr Hume?"
she said, with a smile.  "I accept your services, sir," she added
slowly; "but I do so with a sadness at my heart that warns me of
impending trouble.  I hope it bodes no ill to you.  My mind is fixed
upon this enterprise; but, oh! often in the night my heart is heavy with
forebodings, so that I could abandon myself to the relief of womanly
tears, if I only dared.  It is not an easy task, this," she went on,
with a tremble in her voice, "for a girl to be alone among strange men;
but my father, pale and stern, beckons me on, and my brother--oh, my
brother!"

Her voice gave way, and she put her hand to her eyes; then, as he stood
by pale, distressed, with an oppression in his throat, she thrust her
hand forth with a wild gesture, and swept by him to the bridge.  Frank
stood awhile, then went slowly forward.

When, with a start, he came out of his reverie, it was to find the ship
free of the fog, and dashing along in the grey of the evening towards
the golden glory of an exquisite sunset.  The sea stretched away to
where glowed a rim of molten gold upon the horizon; and from this
glowing band there shot streaks of fire into the sky, and rippling bars
of silver on the waters, while the deepening dusk turned the blue of the
ocean to a wonderful hue, shading from grey to deep black.



CHAPTER EIGHT.

LIEUTENANT GOBO.

On the afternoon of the fourth day, with lockers almost exhausted of
coal, they sighted the outposts of Madeira--jagged rocks, with the
clearest of outlines--and made for Funchal with some apprehension as to
their reception from the Portuguese.

They had not passed scathless through the Bay.  The funnels were coated
with salt, the mark of a curling sea which had swept over the bows, and
the starboard boat was missing.  The deck was soaked, and grimy from
coal-grit,--while all on board looked worn and unwashed, as though they
had been without sleep, and, indeed, they had passed through a wearying
time, tossed about like corks, compelled to hold on at every step, and
drenched with spray.  But though the catcher had plunged and rolled in a
manner that tried the nerves of the oldest seaman, she had gone safely
through those huge rollers, and they had learnt to trust in her.  What
they wanted now was her full capacity of coal, with some tons over for
storage on the deck, to enable her to make the long passage to Rio, if
possible.  The question was, Had the Portuguese been warned by the
Brazilian Consul in London, and would they give them coal?

Very soon she was steering a course parallel to the vast slope of the
Island, ploughing through waters of deepest violet.  Innumerable little
white houses dotted that seemingly inhospitable slope of coloured
sandstone, many as the white crests of the waves, and each one of them
when viewed through a glass was seen to be embedded in a wealth of
vegetation.  So steep was the slope, and so limited each settlement,
that every bit of land was terraced, so that not one spadeful of the
precious soil should escape.  From where, at the foot, the slope
terminated in a precipitous descent to the foaming wave, these terraces
ascended like irregular steps far up to the heights.  And there lived a
frugal people, with that brilliant sea below them, and the blue,
unclouded sky above, with the air tempered by the mists on the mountain
ridge above to the most balmy softness, and with a soil, once saved and
scraped together, that grew all they needed without much toil.  Theirs
is the life of repose, with grapes and bananas for their principal food,
varied with onions and fish, and washed down with the wine of that iron
soil.

A slothful people, perhaps, but they have discovered the secret of
living on the soil and out of the soil, developing the idle ruminating
pleasures of sleek cattle; happy in their little houses, their tiny
plots of fruitful ground; rich in their climate, and most fortunate in
their situation.  What to them the aspirations of the struggling hordes
of Europe, the agonised cry of the hopeless poor of more powerful
countries, the ambitions and the social schemes of the proud
Northerners, but the echoes of a stormy life?

The _Swift_ rounded into Funchal Bay, and anchored in the calm waters,
under the guns of a picturesque fort covered with green.  The fires were
raked out, and the long craft, weather-beaten and streaked with rust
stains, was at rest--an object, however, of suspicion to the peaceful
merchant-ships.  A tug from the shore shot out, encircled the catcher,
and returned in haste.

"That doesn't look friendly," said Lieutenant Webster.

"They've had notice to look out for us," was the Captain's comment.
"It's what I feared; but so long as they give us coal they may do what
they like."

"There's a boat putting off, sir--probably to warn us off."

"Well, we can't go without coal, and if they won't give it we'll take
it."

"Yes," said Webster, looking reflectively at the fort.

The boat approached within a ship's length, and a fat man in uniform,
who held the tiller, took a long look at the _Swift_, then made a
signal, and was rowed back again.

The fat man was met by a number of men in uniform, and after much
gesticulation the whole party entered a larger boat, flying the
Portuguese flag at the peak and stern, and with an awning aft.

This time they came alongside, mounted the steps, and stood twirling
their black moustaches, while their dark eyes roamed over the long deck.

"Have I the pleasure of speaking to the Captain?" said the stout man,
looking at a group of three.

"I am the Captain."

"Ah! receive my respects.  And the name of the ship?"

"The _Swift_--steam yacht."

"True, she has the appearance of a pleasure-boat.  You intend, perhaps,
to remain here?  The Island of Madeira is very lovely."

"Yes," said the Captain; "but not at present."

"You will be going on to Teneriffe?"

"Doubtless; but we require coal.  You have a good supply?"

"Why not?  But this small yacht would not require much for a cruise to
the Canaries."

"About eight hundred tons, sir, is all we require."

"Eight hundred tons, sir?  Very good.  With that you could reach
America, possibly Brazil.  Is it not so?"

Captain Pardoe bit his lip, while the stout man turned with a smile and
a shrug to his companions, one of whom strolled leisurely forward.

"Perhaps eight hundred tons is more than I require, especially as I
could get more on my return," said the Captain quietly.

"I understand, sir; but that's a matter of business arrangement with a
coal-merchant.  You have left England recently?"

"Four days since."

"Four days--carambo--a quick passage!  Then, sir, perhaps you can inform
me of the progress of the revolution in Brazil.  Have the rebels been
beaten?"

"I am afraid I can give you no information about Brazil."

"And you have not heard of the escape of a torpedo-catcher from the
Thames, bound for Rio to help the rebels?"

Captain Pardoe looked astonished.

"You have surely been misinformed, senor.  No vessel could get out of
the Thames without the wish of the authorities."

"I assure you, my Captain, the impossible has happened, and, believe me,
I first supposed your boat was that same vessel.  Ha! ha!"

"Ha! ha! what a good joke, senor!"

"Is it not?"  The officer who had walked forward returned, and whispered
to the stout man.  "But why, my Captain, do you carry a torpedo-tube and
a heavy gun?  Is it to shoot gulls?  Ha! ha!  I am afraid, Captain, you
will not get your coal here, and that your visit may be prolonged to our
satisfaction.  You will find the island of Madeira lovely--most
beautiful.  In the meantime, I may introduce you to my friend Lieutenant
Guilia Gobo, who will remain your guest with these soldiers."

The stout officer gave some order to his Lieutenant, and clambered down
into his boat.

"My Captain," he said, with a pleased smile, "may I direct your
attention to our powerful fort?  We have there some heavy guns; oh, very
formidable."  He sat down chuckling, and rubbing his knees.

"The old boy is pleased with himself," remarked Webster to Frank, who,
together, had been amused spectators of the scene.  "He euchred the
Captain without trouble--an easy matter enough, by the way, in the face
of that little weapon forward.  Look at the skipper: dissimulation is
not his _role_."

Indeed, Captain Pardoe looked very black, as he confronted the
Lieutenant and his four men.

"Well, sir," he said, "what is the meaning of your presence on board my
ship?"

"I no speak the Ingleese," said the Lieutenant haughtily.

"But he understands it well enough," muttered Webster.

"You don't speak English; perhaps you will understand that I have enough
coal to take me to Teneriffe, and I will leave in an hour.  Up to that
time you are welcome to the run of the ship, but you will find it agree
ill with your uniform."

The Lieutenant turned sharply, and shouted after his superior officer.

Captain Pardoe knitted his black brows, and was about to speak again,
but turned to walk off, when he was joined by Frank.

"I understood what he said, sir."

"So did I, Hume, but I don't fear the fort's guns.  It is necessary to
humour them, and with a little judicious palming we might win our
object, but I have no genius for that work."

"May I try, sir?"

"Certainly, Hume, do what you like, for at the worst we can throw them
overboard."

"Then, sir, set the hands to clean the ship, and send Webster ashore to
lay in a stock of vegetables, fruit, and fresh meat."

"Since when were you appointed purser, Mr Hume?"

"It will show them you do not mean to leave in a hurry, and we'll lull
their suspicions."

The Captain issued his orders at once, and in a few minutes Webster,
with the chief engineer, Mr Dixon, were being rowed ashore, while half
a dozen salts, with bare legs, were turning the hose on the grimy deck,
and the stokers, black almost as sweeps, came on deck to hang over the
bows and pull at their well-seasoned clay pipes.

Before Webster left, Hume had drawn his attention to two large barges
laden with coal which were anchored to the left, and suggested that he
should find out what coal they contained.

He next dived into the main cabin, where he found Miss Laura and Mr
Commins looking at the island through a port-hole.  This was the first
time Commins had emerged from his cabin, and though he bore traces of
severe illness he was very spruce and neat in his dress, markedly so in
contrast with the weather-stained appearance of the others.

Their heads were very close together, and Commins had succeeded in
making his companion laugh, a little circumstance which unduly nettled
Hume.

He secured some cigars, a bottle of wine, and was hurriedly leaving the
cabin, when Miss Laura asked him a question or two concerning their
position.

"It is so annoying," she added, "that I dare not show myself on board,
as the people here are sure to communicate with their friends in Rio."

"I hope our young friend will be discreet," said Commins, with
irritating condescension in his manner.  "Pray don't leave the cigar-box
open, otherwise the sea air will spoil the contents; and I see you have
selected the choicest of the 1880 brand."

"These are for the Portuguese Lieutenant," said Frank shortly.

"An officer!  What business has he on board?"

"It appears they suspect us, and an officer, with four men, has been
placed on guard."

"That means we have been seized," said Commins, turning to Miss
Anstrade.  "I advised you not to run into a Portuguese port; but you
would be guided by your headstrong Captain."

"There is no cause for fear," replied Frank.  "We hope to be off before
morning with a full supply of fuel."

"Your hopes may be interesting to you, sir; but I, for my part, do not
find them amusing."

"Enough!" interposed Laura with a frown; then, turning to Frank, she
asked him if there really was any prospect of getting away.

"There is, madam, if you have one commodity on board."

"What is that?"

"Money!"

"Ah! come with me," and she started for the cabin.

"Laura, don't be imprudent.  You forget."

"No, on the contrary, Mr Commins, I remember that this gentleman has
behaved nobly, and risked his life while others remained in safety."

Mr Commins murmured something about being ill, but he shot an evil look
at Frank.

"Come, Mr Hume."

"No, madam; if you assure me, that is sufficient.  It will be necessary
to pay for the coal in cash."

"You have some scheme," she said, looking earnestly at him, and placing
her fingers on his arm.

"I have, or, rather, the Captain--"

"Ah, that is better," said Commins, with a sneer.

"Say no more, Mr Hume; I have faith in the resources and courage of my
officers."  She gave him her hand, but her eyes were fixed on Commins.

Frank, somewhat uneasy at what he had witnessed of the familiarity
between the two, hurried away with the wine and cigars to presently
engage the Lieutenant in pleasant conversation in French.

Seeing the officer comfortably seated in the chart-room with the wine,
he went to the side to receive Webster, who had returned in the best of
humours with a boat-load of bananas, custard apples, grapes, vegetables,
and fresh meat.

"I have left the engineer ashore, drinking Madeira with an old crony,"
shouted the genial officer.

"Good," said Frank, raising his voice.  "I'll ask the Captain to let me
return for him later on.  Well," he whispered a moment later, as Webster
stepped on board, "what about the barges?"

"They have 300 tons, and are waiting out there for the Cape mail
steamer, due early to-morrow morning."

"Well, the mail steamer will have to wait.  That is our coal."



CHAPTER NINE.

COALING THE CATCHER.

Lieutenant Webster joined the Portuguese officer in the chart-room,
where, with his gallant attempts to speak French, and his readiness to
join in the laughter at his own most amusing blunders, he quite charmed
Lieutenant Gobo, who grew confidential, and imparted an interesting item
of news.

"You will remain with us, amigo mio, and we will crack many a bottle of
old Madeira in a posado kept by an old man with two lovely daughters."

"Thanks, senor, with pleasure, if we do not depart to-morrow."

"To-morrow!  What say you?  We have a proverb that says that the wages
of to-morrow mock the promise of yesterday.  To-morrow you will all be
our very good guests."

"For my part, nothing would please me better; but our Captain has said
that to-morrow he will sail, and he is a very devil--diavolo--eh?"

"You speak idly, my friend.  I assure you to-morrow this ship of yours
will be seized."

"How so, Lieutenant?  We have no quarrel with Portugal; and, moreover,
there is no craft here that could overhaul us."

"Not here at present, senor, but it is coming."

"Your glass is empty, Lieutenant.  Is this a British ship you speak
of?--for I know none other that could capture us."

"There are other ships than British afloat," said the officer, twirling
his moustache.  "The ship I speak of flies the Brazilian flag: the
_Esperanza_ sloop of war, which, providentially, left Lisbon two days
since, and may be here at any hour.  She was advised of the escape of
your boat from the Thames, and has warned us to be on the watch.  Juarez
is her commander, and I tell you he also is a devil.  Ha! ha!"

"I perceive," said Webster, with a laugh, "you have been too smart for
us.  We English are sometimes very dull."

"Truly, mon ami, in quickness of wit, as in matters of love, we of the
South are superior to you heavy islanders.  But you are good comrades,
nevertheless.  Your health, senor."

"I see the bottle's empty.  Pardon me, Lieutenant, while I overhaul the
locker."  Webster, with an innocent look on his bronzed face, went below
and sent a message to the Captain.

"Sir," he said, as the Captain approached, "there is a Brazilian sloop
of war in pursuit of us.  She may be here to-night, or in the morning."

"How did you learn this?" asked Captain Pardoe, with a dark look.

"From that yellow-skinned effigy on deck.  The _Swift_ is to be taken
to-morrow and the crew landed.  It is all settled."

"Is it?" said the Captain, with a peculiar smile.  "We shall see to that
Hume will presently leave for the shore with two men.  As soon as his
boat is clear have these soldiers seized and bound.  Take your measures
quietly, Mr Webster, and be very careful that they do not cry out."

"What's on foot, Captain?"

"We mean to have that coal, my boy, sloop or no sloop.  Thunder, do they
suppose I'll surrender to a sloop after defying a British cruiser!  You
have your orders."  The Captain went down to the engine-room; and
Webster, after securing another bottle, gave a few sharp words of
instruction to the Quartermaster, who received them with a grin.

Soon after a boat from the shore came alongside with a gendarme, who,
after a few words with Lieutenant Gobo, received a note from that
officer and returned.

"I have assured my Captain," said the Lieutenant to Webster, "that we
are friendly here, and that while one of your men is ashore he need not
take extra precautions."

"What precautions are, then, necessary?"

"Oh, a boat or two of soldadoes!"

"Mr Hume!" cried the Captain, from his position on the bridge, "you
will take the boat for Mr Dixon, and see what arrangements you can make
for coaling to-morrow."

The Lieutenant jogged Webster in the ribs.

"Is he not droll--this Captain of yours?"

"Very droll," remarked Webster, with a meaning look at the
Quartermaster, who stood near.

Hume swung into the boat with two men, and gave the order to push off.

Webster leaned over the side, ran his eyes over the men on deck who were
drinking with the three soldiers, then spoke a word to the
Quartermaster, who immediately joined the group, placing himself as he
did so between the soldiers and their rifles, which rested against the
side.

Webster strolled to the chart house, took another look at the group on
guard, then flung himself on the Lieutenant, pinning that astonished
individual by the throat.  There was a scuffle forward, a smothered cry
or so, and in a minute the four Portuguese were bound and gagged.

"Lower the long boat, Mr Webster," said the Captain in low tones.

This was done by the now thoroughly alert and expectant crew in silence.

"Man the boat, take a tow-line, and make for the coal barges."

Four men dropped into the boat, a tow-line was made fast.

"Weigh anchor and deaden the noise with tow.  Let the flukes hang for
the present."

Quietly and slowly the anchor came in.  Webster entered the boat, the
tow-line tautened, and the _Swift_ gradually moved off in the direction
of the barges.

Meanwhile Hume had met a boat half-way from the shore, with the chief
engineer on board, and taking him in, waited till the shore boat had
rowed out of hearing, then shaped for the barges.

"You are shaping a wrong course for the _Swift_, Mr Hume."

"We are making for two barges laden with coal, Mr Dixon."

"Oh, oh, what's in the wind?"

"These beggars won't give us coal, so we mean to take it.  We will
approach the barges quietly, board them, and secure the people on board.
Will you assist us, Mr Dixon?"

"Certainly, my boy; and what's the Captain doing meanwhile?"

"He'll be alongside very soon after we have done our business.  No doubt
he's on the move now, with a tow-line out.  Gently, men, I think I see
the loom of something dark."

They stole softly up to the unwieldy boats, going alongside one which
had an awning forward, made the boat fast, then clambered on deck.  One
of the sailors walked along the broadside, and reconnoitred.  There were
two men only, sleeping on a rough bed of sacks, their forms dimly
outlined by the light of a lantern.  He then crossed to the other boat,
which was unoccupied.  He made his report, and next minute the sleepers
were aroused to find four men standing over them.  They permitted
themselves to be bound without a murmur, on an assurance from Hume that
they would not be harmed.

A few minutes later the _Swift_ crept up, took in her boat, and got up
steam.

"Make fast the tow-line to the barges, Mr Hume," came an order from the
Captain.

"It is done, sir."

"Cut the moorings."

The rope was cut, and the _Swift_ steamed out, towing the barges, until
she had rounded the south-western point below Funchal, when she dropped
anchor, and all hands, including the two Portuguese sailors, were hard
at it, transferring her coal to the torpedo-catcher.  The coal was in
sacks, the steam tackle was set in motion, and with a loud noise that
sooner or later would reach the ears of the people ashore, the precious
cargo was swung on board and shot down the shoots, covering every part
of the deck and rigging with grit.  The long, low steamer lay sandwiched
between the barges, and while the steam tackle worked aft, forward the
sacks were handled by the men, everyone, except Miss Anstrade and Mr
Commins, lending a willing hand.

They had been hard at work for an hour, when a confused babble of
shouting was heard from the port, and shortly after they saw a shaft of
light shoot into the sky and glance across the harbour.  It was the
flash-light from the little fort, and no doubt revealed the absence of
steamer and coal barges.

Presently they heard the beat of engines--a steamer's light appeared
round the point.

"Show a light, Mr Webster.  We don't want to be run down."

A red light was hung out over the stem.

"Keep on with your work," shouted the Captain, as the men paused to
watch the progress of the steamer.

"Carambo!  Senor Capitaine, what in the devil's name is the meaning of
this?" shouted a deep voice from the steamer, in furious accents.

"Quien es?"

"Demonios!  Colonel Alvaro, commander of the fort.  What mean you by
moving off like a thief in the dark?  It is an offence against Portugal
and the laws."

Captain Pardoe laughed.  "I am merely taking coal for which I am willing
to pay.  Will you receive the money?"

"Yes," said a strange voice; "I represent the coal company."

There was an altercation on board the tug, for such it proved to be.

"I protest, Colonel Alvaro.  When I have received payment you may do
what you like.  Lower a boat."

Colonel Alvaro gave way, the boat was lowered, and a young Englishman
stepped on board, who was immediately taken below, where he made a good
bargain.

"Now, Captain," he said, after securing a roll of notes, "you have acted
in a high-handed manner, and it is no business of mine to help you, but
the sooner you move the better.  The warship _Esperanza_ has been
signalled, and will be here in half an hour."

"Thank you," said the Captain, with a grim smile; "we can look after
ourselves.  Mr Webster, release the soldiers, and let them return with
these gentlemen."

Webster did so, and could not forbear chaffing Lieutenant Gobo.  "We are
no match for you, Lieutenant, in resource, but you see we are having our
own way."

"Matre de Dios!" cried the Lieutenant, grinding his teeth, "you will pay
for this, you base picaro!" and he shot a vengeful glance at Webster and
Hume, who stood close by, their faces black with coal-dust.

Little did they dream that Gobo would make good his threat.

The tug waited for its boat, then steamed away towards the harbour at
great speed, Colonel Alvaro and Lieutenant Gobo shouting a string of
threats as to what they would do on their return.

Mr Dixon reported that the bunkers were filled.

"Stack a row of sacks along the sides, and have them lashed.  Get a full
head of steam up.  Mr Webster, cast this boat off from the port side."

Soon the steam from the escape pipe set up its shrill clamour.

The Captain mounted to the bridge, and with his night glass fixed to his
eye searched the mouth of the harbour.

"See that row of lights, Captain?" said Miss Laura.

"A steamer just entering the harbour."

"And there is another light moving."

"That is the tug which just left us.  Is there much more coal left, Mr
Webster?"

"About fifty sacks, sir, I should say."

"Whip them in, then.  All firemen get below."  He approached the tube.
"Stand by, Mr Dixon!"

The steamer which had just entered the harbour put out her lights, but
there was a glow from her funnels which revealed her movements, as it
grew rapidly brighter.

"All aboard!" shouted the Captain.  "Cast off the barge!"  The men
clambered from the barge, and the unwieldy craft was shoved away.

"Full speed ahead!"

The water was lashed by the screws, the _Swift_ vibrated like a living
thing, and shot away, leaving the barges rocking on the swell she had
kicked up.

"Surely, Captain," said Miss Anstrade, "that steamer is following us!"

"She is, Miss Laura, sure enough.  It is the Brazilian ship _Esperanza_,
Captain Don Juarez."

"Don Juarez," said the girl, in a startled whisper.  "O, Santissima
Maria," she added, with a passionate cry, "that treacherous dog, the
murderer of my brother!  Captain Pardoe, you must not fly.  Mr Webster,
listen to me."

"Laura, my dear girl," said Mr Commins, laying his hand on her arm.

She shook him off with an angry gesture, and turned her flashing eyes on
the Captain, while her bosom heaved.

Some of the men had heard her cry, and stood near the bridge.

"Men," she said, in quick, excited tones, "hear me!  That is a Brazilian
warship behind.  It is commanded by a man who has done me a most fearful
wrong.  You are Englishmen, and I ask you--"

"Enough, madam," whispered Pardoe sternly.  Then, raising his voice,
"Clear the guns for action."

The Quartermaster's shrill whistle rang out in immediate response, and
in reply a flame of fire leapt out from the darkness astern, followed by
the screech of a shell.



CHAPTER TEN.

PURSUED.

The _Swift_ was a formidable fighting ship, though built to tackle the
midgets of the sea--the 130 feet torpedo boats.  She had no torpedo-tube
in the stem, which had been strengthened for ramming; but she carried
two tubes at the stern, one four-inch quick-firing gun, two six-pounders
forward, and two twelve-pounders on pedestals.  Including the officers,
there were twenty men to work the ship and guns, and a staff of ten
firemen and engineers.  The seamen were picked men, tempted by high pay,
and all of them showed the unmistakable stamp of strict training and
discipline.  They were, in fact, men of the Naval Reserve, recruited by
the Quartermaster--hard, weather-beaten, and, except when off duty,
still-mouthed.  The Quartermaster, Henderson, was black-bearded and
swarthy, like the Captain, and it was rumoured among the men that this
was not the first time the two of them had shipped in the same capacity
in blockade-running in the wars of South American Republics.  The
conning-tower, a small chamber, fitted with tubes, knobs, levers, and a
spare wheel, and walled in with thick plates of toughened steel, was
just forward of the first funnel.  Beyond it was a turtle-backed deck of
iron, and on either side were the six-pounders, protected by
bullet-proof shields.  The Captain could fire the aft torpedo guns by
electricity from the conning-tower.

"Clear the guns for action, and slacken speed."

The shrill, clear notes of the whistle rang out the sharp summons, and
the men sprang to their positions with an alacrity which had not marked
their actions when threatened by the British warships.  Then they had
done their duty sullenly, with a sense of ill-omen at having to
encounter their own flag; but now they were on a different footing in
respect to this new foe, and eager to be at some other game than always
on the run.

"If our Captain's half as good at fighting as he is at running," growled
the sailor known as Dick the Owl, for his night eye, "we'll have a
bellyful, eh, mate? and good luck to it."

"Eh, it's a queer thing, Dick, that we navy men should be under these
port-to-port cargo and hat-box carriers, but the Captain's got red
lights in his head when there's danger afoot, and maybe he'll be a good
'un to follow."

"As good as any you would find on the bridge of any battleship afloat,
my men," said Lieutenant Webster, who had been standing by unobserved.

"Beg pardon, sir," said the men, touching their caps.

"That's all right, my men; we've got to know each other yet," replied
the Lieutenant, with a kindliness that won their hearts.  "Wash down the
decks first," he cried; "we'll not go down to Davy's locker disguised in
soot, like imps of darkness.  Out with the hose."

The men laughed as they screwed on the hose to the hydrants and poured
on a stream of water, sweeping the grimy decks from stem to stern.

"Now, get below for a sluice and a dram," cried the cheery voice of the
Lieutenant, whose idea of handling a crew was not according to naval
instructions.  The men trooped down the narrow companion-way laughing
and joking in their excitement; but the roar of the enemy's guns, as he
fell round to port, and brought his starboard broadside to bear, was a
summons that brought them tumbling on deck again ere they had time to
wipe their mouths with a backhanded swipe.

"Steady, men, and to your quarters," said the Captain quietly; "all but
the men for the big gun, who will go below."

Five men had taken their position about the big gun, which stood with
its chase pointing up, as though looking away to the horizon for its
enemy.  These men stood astonished at the order.

"Below, men," said Lieutenant Webster, approaching them; "you'll not be
wanted till morning," he added, as he noted their sidelong looks.

They went down in silence; and, by the pressure of a button in the
conning-tower, the Captain lowered the long gun into the deck, the same
machinery sliding a heavy shield of toughened steel over the opening
left by its disappearance.  This gun had been specially built for the
catcher, and was of a larger calibre than the guns usually carried by
that kind of craft.  It rose or fell on a strong powerful lever, on a
modified principle used for the disappearing guns; and the frame of the
ship had been strengthened amidships to bear the strain.  It could be
loaded and fought on deck, or loaded below and fired from the
conning-tower when at close quarters, and had been christened "The
Ghost," after a trial made before reaching Madeira.  "The Ghost" was
turned out at the Elswick Works, and could fire sixty fifty-pound
projectiles in ten minutes.

"We've laid our ghost," said Webster to Hume, who, being quite fresh to
this part of the business, stood looking out into the blackness astern
in a state of suspense; "we've laid our ghost, and must raise theirs."

"Is that you, Mr Webster?" said the Captain, leaning over the bridge.

"Yes, sir!"

"I must ask you to go to your cabin."

"To my cabin, sir?"

"Yes; I will not want you till daybreak, and you will fight all the
better, then, for a good sleep.  Take off the men from the
six-pounders--the fewer on board the better."

Webster went below with six men from the two guns, leaving on deck eight
hands in all to work the ship and the two twelve-pounders.  One of these
was at the wheel in the conning-tower; another was stationed forward on
the lookout; and the others were in two steel towers, which were aft,
about three feet above the deck, protecting the men from the hail of
missiles that might be discharged from the machine guns, while their
sloping sides would deflect larger projectiles.

"Mr Hume!"

"Sir."

"Join me on the bridge."

Frank mounted to the low bridge, and went close to the dark figure of
the Captain for companionship.  They were unprotected by steel armour,
and for himself he experienced a feeling of complete helplessness.  He
felt that up there he was a mark for every gun aimed at the _Swift_, and
that without any power of retaliation.

"It is a fine night," he said aimlessly, looking up at the starry sky.

"A very fine night, indeed," said the Captain, taking hold of his beard
with both hands; "but there'll be rain in the morning."

Frank brought his eyes down from the stare to a red eye that gleamed far
astern.

The Captain took a couple of steps, and spoke down the tube: "Please
attend to your fires; there are too many sparks."

Frank wondered at the Captain's quiet tones.  Usually he was sharp and
rough; now he spoke as though he were asking for a second cup of tea.

"I knew it," said the Captain.

The red eye astern was dimmed by two livid flashes.  Frank heard the
dull reports, and then with a thrill down his back listened to the cry
of the shells as they sped on.  The enemy had as yet done no damage, but
he knew that these shrieking messengers had at last scented their foe.
He jerked his head violently as the shriek rose to a fiendish scream,
and a swift rush of air swept across his face, whilst the crushing of
iron behind him told that the shot had struck.  It passed through the
forward funnel as though it had been a sheet of paper, and the smoke
came pouring out of the holes.

"They've got our range at last, and it's lucky for us they have no
search-light."

"I'll go and get my rifle," said Frank.

The Captain chuckled: "She's a mile off, at least; and if not, you might
just as well puff at a whale with a pea-shooter.  Still, I know how you
feel.  It's devilish hard to stand fire without giving back."  He raised
his voice: "Fire!"

The twelve-pounders spoke together, belching out balls of fast revolving
smoke, and spurring the ship on with their recoil.

"It's no good, of course," muttered the Captain; "but it will encourage
them to keep up the chase."

"Why not give them the big gun, Captain?" asked Frank impatiently.

"A waste of ammunition; and we'll want all we have when we get near the
end of our voyage.  I could turn and engage them, but I like to see what
I am about, and all I want to do now is to encourage them.  There she
goes round; see her port lights; she'll give us another broadside, and
do you count the flashes."

"Count the flashes," thought Frank; "does he think this is a review?"

The twelve-pounders let go at the row of lights, and as the smoke rolled
away there came a muffled roar, and in an instant, it seemed to Frank,
the air was full of shells.  The water was cup up astern, and one
projectile struck the turtle-backed deck forward, and went humming into
the black of the night.

"She carries six guns to the broadside, I think.  What do you make it?"

"A dozen, at least, Captain, and heavy metal," said Frank, wetting his
lips.

"No more than six and twelve-pounders.  A larger shell sets up a
different music, as you will soon learn.  Still, I don't like it; their
gunners are too smart."

The Captain took a turn up and down the bridge, then sent a shout to the
Quartermaster to cease fire.

"Mr Hume, you will find a life-belt on the starboard side, opposite the
hatchway, with a canister attached.  Cut it adrift."

Frank found the belt, and sent it overboard.

"Keep her three spokes to port."

The steersman starboarded the helm, and the _Swift_ went off at an angle
to her former course, whilst the canister, on reaching the water, flared
out in a brilliant blaze in the ship's former wake.

Before Frank had reached the bridge the enemy had come round and fired
his two forward guns, then, keeping on to port, quickly let go his
starboard broadside.  The water about the floating flare was dashed up
in showers.

The Captain slapped Hume on the back as he reached the bridge.

"That's a simple trick, eh! and we could slip away as easy as winking if
we had a mind to.  Lord, won't they howl when they find how they have
been done!"

There came a hearty guffaw from the towers aft as the men saw through
the Captain's joke.

"Lord, there he goes again," as the forward guns again belched forth;
"what a ferocious devil the commander must be!  He takes that light to
be a signal, and imagines he is firing at a crippled ship, the devil."

The Quartermaster came forward.  "The enemy has slackened off, sir."

"Is that so?" said the Captain, taking a long look at the steamer's
lights.  "Ha, I have it," and he smacked his fist in his hand, showing
the first symptoms of excitement.  "He thinks we've gone down, and we'll
lay-to till morning, which can't be far off."

"There'll be grey light in an hour, sir."

The Captain kept his eye on the steamer's light, which rose and fell,
but kept its place.

"Quartermaster, take your men below for some hot grog and a bite, and
rouse Mr Webster."

"Ay, ay, sir."

The Captain went to the tube.  "Slacken speed, Mr Dixon, and be very
careful with your fires.  Starboard your helm; bring her round."

The _Swift_ went round with a steady swing, bringing the enemy's light
on her port bows, instead of over her starboard stern rails.

The men lingered awhile to see the manoeuvre finished, and then went
below, satisfied there was to be a fight.

"Keep her on that course now," said the Captain to the steersman.

"Mr Webster," he continued, as that officer stepped briskly up and took
a glance round, "see that everything is in readiness, and that the men
take their positions without a word.  Within an hour the fight will
begin."

"Begin, sir?  You've been at it this past three hours, and I've been in
and out of my bunk a dozen--times, while the men are all on the quiver."

"We haven't come to knocks yet.  I'll present my card in the morning
with a fifty-pound rat-tat."

Webster laughed gaily as he set about his duties, and presently the men
gathered silently to their posts, some of them every now and again
stealing to the sides to make out the whereabouts of the enemy and the
meaning of the manoeuvre, which puzzled them, as one might gather from
their whispered arguments.

The _Swift_ doubled back towards the eastern horizon, where the darkness
was quickly melting into the grey of dawn, and a deep silence rested on
the ship, and over the shining heave of waters.  Slowly the enemy's
light was overhauled, then sank astern, but the _Swift_ kept on its way
until a tint of pink appeared in the sky and the stars suddenly paled.

"The time has come," said the Captain.  "Are you all ready?"

"Ay, ay, sir!" came the answer in suppressed tones.

"Round with her, my man, on the port tack."

The _Swift_ rushed round, and there was a murmur of admiring criticism
from the old tars as they now understood the meaning of the Captain's
manoeuvre.

"They are satisfied now," said the Captain, grimly, to Frank.  "They
thought all along, I'll be bound, that I could not fight this ship."

"I confess, sir, I don't understand your tactics."

"Well, I suppose you don't.  The enemy's fighting strength is evidently
in her bow guns.  So is ours.  I have got the 'vantage of her by going
into action on her beam.  Mark me, before she can bear her bow guns on
us she'll be crippled.  Full steam ahead!" he shouted, and the low craft
rushed forward.

The whole horizon on the east was now bathed in light, and in a moment
the blood-red disc of the sun flamed above the black line of the waters,
while streamers of light shot into the sky.  Straight ahead there rose a
dark object.  A shaft of golden light stretching across the waters
struck full upon it, and there stood out in a glory of softest fire the
tall masts and long black hull of the Brazilian ship.  She was at rest,
rising and falling gently; but there was a terrible awakening in store.
Every minute brought her into clearer relief, though from the dark
background beyond there was a blur about her deck, out of which,
however, presently there emerged distinct objects--her boats, her bridge
unoccupied, the gilt scroll under her stern, over which idly dropped the
Brazilian flag; and last of all, the chases of her port broadside grimly
projecting, with a glint of red sunlight on their smooth cylinders.

The two vessels were now distant about six hundred yards, and at last
the careless lookout on the Brazilian ship saw something alarming astern
in the fierce rush of the low grey craft.  Some men dashed up the
rigging to get a better view, and a small group gathered on the bridge.

"We'll wake 'em up!" shouted the Captain, springing into the
conning-tower and pressing a button, which brought up "The Ghost" from
its bed.

The real action had begun; the night's work had been child's play.
There was a terrific din as the long gun threw shot after shot, and in
ten minutes a dense bank of smoke enveloped the _Swift_.  The firing was
suspended a minute.

The Captain stood in the conning-tower, his hands on the wheel, and his
eyes fixed in a narrow slit under the steel roof.  Giving a turn of the
wheel to starboard, he brought the stem free of the smoke, and saw the
enemy slowly gathering way, while men rushed about her decks in a state
of terrible confusion at this sudden tempest of shells that had poured
upon them.

Some damage had been done evidently, but principally to her top rigging.
And now she spoke from her stern guns, but not allowing sufficiently
for her height, the first stinging flight of shells went over the
catcher.

"Stand by the six-pounders!" cried the Captain, his voice rising to a
roar.  "Depress your muzzle, Mr Webster!  Fire!"

Again there was another tremendous fusillade, continuous and deafening,
while the men's eyes smarted from the sulphur in the smoke, and their
throats grew dry and husky.  For five minutes the rain of lead was kept
up, and from the three guns one hundred projectiles tore into the sloop,
plunged along the port side, and shattered her rigging.  Lieutenant
Webster devoted his second storm of fire at the stern guns, and the
stanchions and bulwarks about them were ripped up, and the guns
themselves dismounted.

The order to cease fire was again given, and the Captain made a point to
starboard just as the sloop was swinging round to bring her port
broadside to bear.

The ships were now but two hundred yards off, the sloop bearing off from
the port quarter of the catcher in her attempt to come round and bring
her bow guns to bear.  Once she could do that she could blow the _Swift_
out of the water, but Captain Pardoe had foreseen the manoeuvre and was
ready for it.  Counting upon the narrow turning power of his boat, he
swept on, and suddenly put the wheel hard to port, bringing the vessel
round within her own length, and bringing the boats stern to stern.  At
the same moment he flashed the signal below to fire the stern torpedoes.
Then he stepped out to watch the effect, and the men, with heaving
chests and smoke-blackened faces, from which their eyes glared with the
fever of battle, watched too.  There was a cry from the deck of the
sloop, as they saw the leap from the tubes of the two torpedoes, a
hoarse cry from the Captain to the man at the wheel, a terrible pause,
and then two lines of bubbles below the water marked the swift rush of
the deadly tubes.  One line, it was seen, would continue free of the
ship, the other went straight for her stern, and a sailor, in a mad fit
of rage, first discharged his rifle at the approaching torpedo, then
plunged overboard with a wild yell.  A moment later there was a muffled
roar, a vast column of water was thrown up, followed by a rending and
grinding noise.  The stern of the sloop was raised, then settled down in
the trough of a great sea raised by the explosion.  The torpedo had
reached its mark, and Captain Pardoe stood by to give what assistance he
could.

There was the wildest consternation on board the sloop, and the rending
noise continued; but though she lay helplessly on the water she showed
no signs of sinking.

The men on board the _Swift_ set up a hoarse cheer, and shook each other
by the hand.

"It's twenty minutes since we went into action," said Webster, wiping
the blood from his brow.  "Three cheers for our Captain, men!" and
waving his hat, he led the hurrahs.

"For the love of God," cried a voice in English from the sloop, "help
us!"

"Strike your flag!" cried the Captain.

The gay flag came down, and the Captain brought the _Swift_ nearer.
"What is the matter?"

"Your cursed torpedo has blown away our propeller, and the shaft--oh,
Sancta Maria!--listen to it!--is breaking the ship."

"Why don't you shut off steam?"

"Our engineer is dead.  Demonios!  Don't talk, but act."

"I'll send our engineer to you."

"Quick, quick!"

Mr Dixon came up from the bowels of the _Swift_, where, without the
stimulant of action, he had stood by his work, animating his men with a
quiet courage, which was the finer because he stood in absolute darkness
regarding the progress of the fight, and knew that at any moment he
might be sent to the bottom a helpless victim in an iron prison.  His
face was white and streaming with perspiration, and at the first touch
of the cold air he reeled with dizziness, but when told what was
required of him, he prepared for his new task without a word.  The
_Swift_ moved gently under the tall sides of the sloop, and the
engineer, with Webster, Hume, and six men, were quickly on board.  Mr
Dixon went at once to the engine-room, whence proceeded a truly infernal
din.

"Where Is the Captain?" asked Webster of a dozen men round him.

A short, thick-set, bullet-headed man, with a neck like a bull, and
moustaches that reached up to his ears, stepped forward.

"Your sword, Senor Juarez!"

"I must know to whom I am asked to surrender."

"To the National flag," said Webster haughtily.

"Carambo! that is an excellent jest.  Is the flag broad enough to cover
the ships of every nation?  And why should I surrender my sword?" he
asked, with a fierce scowl, while his officers drew near threateningly.

Webster stepped quickly to the bulwarks, and called to Captain Pardoe to
stand away.

That officer went at once full speed astern, and lay-to a cable length
off, with the men at their guns.

"You see?" said Webster.

The Brazilian Captain, with a terrible malediction, broke his sword over
his knee.

"A thousand thunders!" he roared, while the black blood swelled in his
temples, "to think I should have been beaten by that--that thing--and
scarcely a boat's crew hurt!"

"It is the fortune of war," said Webster, looking around.  "But while we
talk the ship may be sinking for want of a little sailor-like care.
Have you a spare sail, senor?"

The Brazilian Captain folded his arms and spat on the deck.

"You surly brute!" cried Webster.  "Here, men, cut away the mizzen
sail!"

In a trice the British sailors swarmed up to the mizzen yard and cast
loose the sail, which came down with a thud, knocking a couple of
yellow-faced sailors off their legs, whereat the tars up aloft laughed.
At this a dozen of the enemy drew their knives and looked to their
Captain for a word.

It was a ticklish moment, and Hume pulled out a revolver, which he
instantly presented at Juarez.

"Good, my lad," said Webster.  "Shoot him down if he moves a foot.  Do
you understand, senor?"

Juarez glared like a wild beast, and a hoarse, unintelligible cry
escaped from his thick lips, but he kept quiet, while Webster, without
another look at the scowling group, quickly slipped the great sail over
the side, and had it drawn round and up over the damaged stern.

In the meantime Mr Dixon, working down below, had stopped the engines
and explored the shaft funnel, ascertaining the extent of the damage
done by the shaft in its unchecked revolutions.  He came on deck,
wearied out, to be met by dark looks.

"What's the meaning of this?" said he.

"The meaning is," cried Webster, with a bitter look of contempt round,
"that these cowardly hounds won't lift a finger to help us, and I'm
damned if my men will do another stroke to save them!  Let the ship
sink, and she is sinking fast."

"And you'll sink with us!" roared Juarez.  "Down with them; slit their
throats!"

There was a rush of men, and the little party were hemmed in.

A young officer bounded forward with drawn sword, and wheeling round,
faced his men.

"Diavolo!" he hissed through his clenched teeth, "what devil's game is
this?  You called to these gentlemen in your fear to help you, and now
you would turn on them like base assassins.  I tell you," he cried
passionately, "it shall not be!"

Webster and Hume, with their blue eyes flashing, ranged up on either
side of their unexpected friend, while the British tars stood with their
cutlasses ready.

Captain Pardoe, seeing something amiss, drew near.  "Do you hear," he
shouted, "if you harm my men I'll let go a torpedo."

The young officer repeated the message, and the men whispered among
themselves, then threw down their arms.

Juarez shot a venomous look at his officer, and placed his foot upon a
knife, which, presently, he drew toward him.

Webster thanked the gallant foe for his assistance, and assured him that
the sloop would keep afloat until they reached Madeira.  He then turned
to the side to speak to Captain Pardoe, while Frank Hume walked aft to
see what damage had been wrought by the fire of the catcher.

There was a cry, and they turned to see the young officer fall, struck
to the heart by the vengeful Captain.  The next instant Juarez himself
was cut to the deck by a slashing blow from a cutlass.

At this act of black treachery the small boarding party were ready to
make a furious rush, but the sloop's officers and men looked on
themselves appalled, while a young fellow, quite a boy, flung himself on
the officer's body in a passion of grief, then suddenly springing up,
drew his knife and advanced towards Juarez.

"Enough!" said Webster sternly.

"Kill the black-hearted dog!" screamed the Brazilian sailors, giving
vent to their hate for their brutal commander, which no doubt had been
long pent up.

"I see," said Webster, with a grim smile; "we must get this fellow on
board to save him from his friends."

He signalled to the _Swift_, and when she came alongside, Juarez, who
still breathed heavily, was lowered to her deck.

"What's to be done with the sloop, sir?"

"Oh, leave her, if she can float, and think ourselves lucky to be free
of a gang of prisoners."

"She can reach Madeira by means of her sails."

"Take a look round, then, and come aboard."

Webster and Hume went aft, where all the damage done by the _Swift's_
guns had taken place, and there they found the bulwarks smashed to
splinters, the two guns overturned, and the deck wet with blood from a
dozen dead.

With a last word of advice to the gloomy and silent officers of the
sloop, Webster stepped overboard, and very soon the _Swift_ went on her
way.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

A PAINFUL SCENE.

The stricken sloop lay like a log on the ocean as the _Swift_ stretched
along into the Atlantic.  In less than half an hour she had been struck
down, maimed, and humbled by an enemy which she had treated with
contempt.

"Why didn't you sink her?" said Commins softly, coming to the side of
Captain Pardoe, who stood with a dull flush in his face, fixedly
regarding the labouring sloop.  "You are fighting for the National
Government.  Why didn't you sink her?"

Pardoe turned and regarded the man at his side under his brows for a
moment.  "What a devil you are, Commins!"

"Am I really?" remarked Commins imperturbably; "but, however flattering
to my sagacity, that is scarcely an answer to my question.  You have
committed a blunder, Pardoe, and if the authorities at Rio were informed
of it they might--I'm not saying they would, mind you--but they might
court-martial you."

"Court-martial me for smashing an enemy's ship?  You're a fool,
Commins!"

"Pardon me, but you have not smashed the enemy.  There he goes leisurely
on his way back to port after you had him in your power, and if either
of us is to be called a fool I am inclined to think you are entitled to
that honour.  Take my advice: go back and sink that ship."

"Do you mean that?"

"Certainly, in your own interests.  The Brazilian Admiral would be the
last man to suppose you had let the enemy escape from motives of
humanity.  And, then, you saved the life of that fiend, Juarez."

"Juarez is my prisoner."

"Yes, truly; but, observe how absurd your case would be when you say to
the Admiral: `I let the warship escape, but I have brought you her
Captain, who would have been assassinated by his own crew.'"

"I see you have already placed me on my trial," said Pardoe dryly.  "I
presume you wish me to murder Juarez as well as to sink the ship?"

"You have a brutal way with you, Pardoe, as befits, no doubt, a brave
sailor; but it jars.  As for Juarez, it may give our friends some
pleasure to dispose of him at Rio, though his presence on board will
cause me a feeling of nausea; but it is necessary that you should do
your work thoroughly, and for your safety, and the success of our
mission, you must destroy that ship."

"I must!" said the Captain, with a dark look.

"Well, there is no compulsion; but that is my opinion, and the opinion
of Miss Laura de Anstrade."

"You lie!"

Commins grew white to the lips, and his gloved fingers, resting on the
bridge rail, trembled, but recovering himself, he said: "I will bring
her here, and you shall receive the orders from her own lips," then left
the bridge.

Captain Pardoe flung himself round, took a hasty turn up and down the
cramped bridge, then, with a stern and angry visage, faced Miss
Anstrade.

She came swiftly, with a rustling of skirts, and a faint perfume that
seemed strangely out of place, as much out of place as would be the
inhuman order from her woman's lips to destroy a helpless ship.  Her
large eyes glared with a feverish light, her breast heaved, and her
hands were clutched in a sort of hysterical passion.

"Captain Pardoe," she cried, in a thin, unnatural voice, "why have you
let that ship escape?"

"Because, madam, I had not men enough to work her, and she would never
have reached Rio."

"No; but she can reach the bottom."

"Good God!" he muttered, his face turning an ashen grey, "Miss Laura,
you cannot mean that?"

"Yes; but I do!" she said, with a gasp.

"Then," he said fiercely, "you must put someone else in command."

"Oh, no, no!" she cried, "I never--"

"Be firm," whispered Commins; "think how your case will be strengthened.
If you can say you have destroyed one of the enemy's ships.  Remember
your brother!"

Captain Pardoe noticed the action, and, pointing to Commins, he said
bitterly: "Appoint that man your Captain, madam; he alone is capable of
such an act, and perhaps Juarez would assist him."

"It is policy," whispered Commins.

The name of Juarez had a strange effect on the girl.  She drew herself
up, and in a hard voice called Lieutenant Webster.

He, seeing something unusual occurring, as, indeed, had all those on the
main-deck, had drawn near.

"At your service, madam," he said, with a hasty look at Captain Pardee's
dark face.

"I wish to appoint you Captain, Mr Webster."

"Thank you, madam!"

Commins smiled as Pardoe threw his head up with a snort of indignant
surprise.

"Mr Pardoe has refused to obey orders.  I beg your pardon, what were
you about to say?"

"I don't think I wish to say anything, madam, and I'd rather not hear
anything more;" saying which, Webster, with a distressed look on his
frank face, stepped by, and stood beside Captain Pardoe.

"Ah!" cried Miss Anstrade, "you desert me for him.  Let it be so.  I
would rather know at once whom I may trust."  The weakness and
hesitation which at first she had shown disappeared, giving place to a
feeling of wounded pride.  She drew herself up, and regarded the two
officers scornfully, forgetting, as only an angry woman can, the
services they had already performed.

"I will have you placed on board yonder ship with that defeated crew,
and perhaps then, when they turn their fury on you, you will repent your
ingratitude.  Once before I had to turn to these gallant sailors in
order to shame you into doing your duty, and now, with confidence, I
will appeal to them once more."  Her voice rang out clear and loud, and,
charmed herself by the sound, she dwelt on her words.  The men edged up,
looking at the group on the bridge; and, if she had not been carried
away by the confidence of her tone, she would have seen that their
aspect was not friendly to her or to the man at her side.  Hot, and most
of them bleeding from a fight into which they had been led with courage
and skill by their officers, it was not to be thought that they would,
on the bidding of a woman, turn their backs upon their leaders.  Commins
was quick to note their bearing, and so was Hume, who stood by, amazed
at the scene.

As she stood there with a proud smile on her lips, Frank swung himself
up, unceremoniously shouldered Commins away, and stood by her side.

"Men," he said, "it is a fine custom after a fight for the Captain to
thank his officers and men, and one that should be kept up by us.  This
lady is our commander, and she wishes to thank you all for the splendid
courage with which you have fought at this engagement against a foe of
double our strength."

"Sir," she said, recovering from the shock of surprise, "what is the
meaning of this insolence?"

"For Heaven's sake," whispered Commins, "let him speak.  Don't you see
the men side with them?"

She flashed a startled look over the upturned faces, then, with a motion
of her hand, signified to Frank to continue.

"Say a word to them, madam, yourself."

"Do you command me?" she asked haughtily.

"No, madam, I implore."

With a terrible look at Commins she went forward, and with a smiling
face, though her hands were clenched, she thanked them.

The men touched their caps, but they lingered, casting puzzled glances
at the Captain and Lieutenant.

"If so please you, mam," said the big Quartermaster in deep tones, "we'd
like to know what's been said by way of thanks to the Captain for the
handsome way he took the ship into action, and to the Lieutenant for the
way he worked `The Ghost' Isn't it so, mates?"

There was a deep growl of assent.

"My men," said the Captain, in a deep bass that had a thrilling touch of
emotion in it, "I am pleased with you, and I think you are satisfied
with me and with the ship.  And all of us are proud of the young lady,
who, trusting herself fully in our keeping, has so bravely shared our
dangers."

"Three cheers for the lady," sang out Dick the Owl; and "God bless her!"
chimed in the Quartermaster.

The ship rang again to the shouts of the men, and Commins slipped below.

Miss Laura coloured, then grew white, but the Captain was too
experienced a man to show his triumph, though he could not forbear one
shot:

"If you will allow me, madam, I will go to my cabin, for I have been on
the bridge all night."

"All night! you are cruel to remind me of it, Captain."

"Am I Captain again, then?"

"Go to your room, sir," she said, with a frown, "and consider yourself
under arrest till eight bells.  Now, Mr Webster," she continued, with a
sudden change of manner, "you will show me over the ship, and explain to
me all about the action.  I see you are wounded."

"Merely a scratch, madam, from a flying link from the anchor chain."

He led the way down, and Hume and the Captain, lingering on the bridge,
saw her chatting with the men, and examining the damage done aft, where
a flight of missiles had struck the deck.

"That was a timely speech of yours, Hume," said the Captain, "and saved
us from an awkward fix, for had the men once got the notion that they
had done me an obligation, there would have been an end to discipline,
tried men as they are.  I am not satisfied that we have a plain course
before us, for we have to reckon with that man Commins, and the whims of
a young lady."

"She appears to be quite reconciled now," remarked Hume.

"Maybe, and I hope so, but a woman can sail under false colours and
dummy portholes without a sign of her real feelings.  See the way she's
smoothing down Black Henderson.  I shouldn't wonder if she's scheming to
gain the men over in preparation for the next mad-brained jamboree."

"What relation does Mr Commins hold to her?"

"That is no business of ours," said the Captain gruffly, "and harkee, my
lad, remember that you are sailing under her orders, and that you have
to stand by her, and not me."  With that he swung down below, leaving
Frank to his own reflections, which were not of the brightest.  He
noticed that Miss Anstrade had ignored his presence, and wondered
whether she was displeased at his interference, then dwelt on the
influence which Mr Commins undoubtedly exercised over her, and finally
blamed himself for having committed himself to this mad venture.  His
thoughts went back to his uncle, and to the promise which he had given
to search for that impossible Golden Rock, and he asked himself if he
would not have been happier had he started on that forlorn enterprise;
but, even as he thought, his mental image of that imaginary rock faded
away before the visible presence of the wayward, passionate girl whose
beauty had already beguiled him.

She had parted from Webster, who was busy with the men, and came slowly
picking her way over the litter of coal scattered from the bags by a
shell which had ripped up the whole row on the port side, her one hand
stretched gracefully to its full length at her side to hold up her
skirts, the other at her throat holding a black mantilla which framed
her face.  Passing up to the bridge, she leant forward with her elbows
on the rails, the wide lace on her sleeves falling back and disclosing
shapely arms, and, with her chin in her hands, looked dreamily over the
grey sea to a faint blur which marked the toiling sloop.  She had not
noticed him by so much as a glance, and, accepting this as a hint, he
put the length of the bridge between him and her.

"Mr Hume."

He turned, but she was still absorbed in watching the sloop.

"Must I call twice?" she said in her low, rich tones; and he was by her
side.

"I feared I had offended you by my interference."

"And would my displeasure disturb you?" she asked, reclining her head
until she could look at him, and so keeping it.

Frank thought of Captain Pardoe, and wondered if she could be acting a
part.

"Why do you look at me so?  Tell me, what do you think of me?"

"I think you are very beautiful," he said daringly, carried away by her
beauty, and forgetting the part she had just played.

"Don't.  This is no ball-room interlude, and such a vapid compliment is
out of place here.  Be frank.  Come, tell me."  She nestled her face
more comfortably in her supporting palm, and looked at him with a faint
smile that parted her lips.

"Don't," he murmured, repeating her word; "I am only human."

"And I am not.  Is that it?  Well, perhaps you are right."

"I did not say so.  What I meant was, that if you look at me so--"

"Spare me!  I detest explanations.  Do you see that ship?" she turned
her face to the labouring sloop.  "It carries many souls--men who have
friends waiting for them in some far-off hacienda, gleaming white in the
bright sun, wives, mothers, and others as dear, who would grieve were
they lost.  You know, I had it in my head to sink that ship and all on
board.  What do you think of me?  I would like to know."

"It was a horrible fancy," he said a little sternly; "but I do not
believe you meant to carry it out."

"Ah! you do not know me," she whispered, with a shudder; "I am sometimes
afraid of myself."

"You brood too much over your sorrows.  Why not come up here more often
and talk with us?" he said, with a jealous thought of Commins.

"That is very good of you," she answered demurely, with a swift change
of expression; "and I appreciate the invitation all the more because of
the evident implication that I alone am to benefit from it."

"You misunderstand me," he said hastily; "what I meant--"

"Yes, yes; how dull you are, Mr Hume!"

"I am sorry you should think so, madam," he answered stiffly.

"Now go off in a pet, and leave me to my own thoughts, which, of course,
are very pleasant company for a lonely girl among a lot of morose and
fiery men, who cannot see that the strain upon her is almost too much."
She said this with a smile, but Hume noticed that the lips trembled
while they smiled, and that in the eyes there was a worn, almost wild,
look.

"Take my arm, Miss Laura," he said gently.  "Let me tell you my story;
it may interest you."

She took his arm with almost a convulsive grasp, and for a moment she
bent her head; then with a soft and womanly look she asked him to talk
and not to heed her silence.  So they paced up and down, six paces one
way, six another, and were necessarily thrown together by the narrowness
of the passage.  He talked of his uncle, the tough old hunter, of the
simple life he led, of his sacrifice and quiet death, and a sweeter look
stole into her face.

"And so," she said, "you have put aside the quest entrusted to you by
that good old man and thrown in your lot with me?  I thank you, but you
must find the Golden Rock."

"If it is there," he said, smiling at her eagerness.

"Oh, it exists; I am sure of it.  I can see the gleam of it now;" and
she shaded her eyes with her hand.

"But it is not on the sea," he said laughingly.

"I am looking beyond the sea, among your African mountains, to a flame
that glows under the rays of the morning sun, and there is a ring of red
around the flame.  Ah! you will encounter many dangers."

"What will it matter," he said, "since I am alone in the world?"

"It may matter," she whispered, and then withdrew her arm, and hastily
quitted the bridge, after one anxious look at the sloop, and a murmured
prayer that it would safely reach port.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

A STRANGE VESSEL.

Five days after the stormy scene on the bridge, Frank Hume and Webster
were lying forward, upon rugs, on the turtle-shell deck, in the full
blaze of a hot sun.  The sea was calm, even beyond the power of the
_Swift_ to toss up spray, and stretched away, unbroken by so much as a
single gleam of white, to the horizon, though astern there lay a long
trail, slightly sinuous, over which, with many a sweep and soar, there
hawked a pair of gulls.  Now and again, from the heave of the water
before the fast slipping foot of the _Swift_, there ripped out a flight
of flying fish, who, after an unmistakable beat of their glittering
wings, shot away to the right and left, to fall with an awkward splash
into the sea.

Here and there, propped up against some wide-mouthed ventilator, or
stretched in the grateful shadows of the boats, were a few barefooted
sailors engaged with needle and thread, while under an awning aft Mr
Commins and Miss Anstrade reclined in deck-chairs.  The harsh grating
noise of the steering gear, and the ceaseless thud of the propellers,
alone broke the silence, which, like the silence of vast stretches
ashore, or of deep-wooded solitudes, hushes the voice of animals and
kills speech in men.  Out on the bosom of the sea, or on the summit of a
mountain, the trifles which interest us among our fellows have little
power against the subduing influence of vast unpeopled spaces.

All the morning the steamer reached on, always remaining in the centre
of the same wide circle, and it was only when the Quartermaster struck
eight bells that there was any movement among the brooding men.  Webster
sat up, and with his hands on his knees, and his cap at the back of his
head, looked over the shining waste, then yawned.

"What an eloquent fellow you are, Hume!" he said; "you've got no more
conversation and greater powers of observation than a bale of wool.
There's that fellow Commins still talking to the Commodore and oiling
his jaw-tackle with iced champagne, the lubber; and to think you might
be enjoying the same privileges if you only had the wit to make yourself
agreeable."

"I don't care for champagne iced."

"You don't, eh? but maybe you'd care to be seated where he is, within
the range of those lustrous eyes, or was it luminous you called them,
for all the world as though you were speaking of a black cat in a
coal-cellar?  And such cigars as she smokes, too?"

"She doesn't smoke cigars!"

"Man, I saw the glow of one last night, burning red, and lighting, by
its reflection, the dark splendour of her eyes, as you magnificently put
it."

"It was a cigarette, and you might know, if you were not always between
waking and sleeping, that most high-bred Spanish women smoke them, and
think no more of it than a dab of powder."

"Then you were smoking the cigar, and I was awake enough to see that the
fierce light of the cigar was closer than the breadth of my hand to the
tiny glow of the dainty cigarette.  I've been thinking whether I ought
to congratulate you or her first."

"Don't be an ass, Webster; I was merely explaining to her the map of the
stars."

"Then there's nothing between you?"

"Nothing but the length of the ship."

"Then that relieves my heart of a great pressure, which has sat there
ever since I had salt junk for breakfast.  I shall propose to the
Commodore myself."

"The devil you will!" said Frank, rising to his elbow, and regarding
Webster with anxiety.

The Lieutenant sighed, and then winked solemnly.

"Yes, my boy, for I'm sick to death of seeing that red-banded dandy
flashing his teeth in the face of her as though he were the only man on
board with courage enough to make love to a pretty girl."

"You are fooling."

"Not me.  I've been thinking, and it occurred to me that I've lived long
enough in a circle.  I want to pass the remainder of my life in a square
house with someone like the Commodore, who won't obey orders.  She would
want to paint the walls yellow to match her complexion, and I would tell
the Quartermaster to paint them blue to remind me of the sea.  The house
would have a flat roof with a flag-post on the weather quarter.  I would
hoist my colours in the morning, and she would bend on hers in the
afternoon, for I've noticed that a woman grows more active as the day
dwindles.  It is a trait she enjoys in common with cats."

"My dear fellow," said Frank earnestly, "all you have to do is to give
her a sketch of that programme, and that will be enough in the way of
wooing."

"Can you suggest any improvement?"

"Well, you would do well to hint at the luxury of green blinds for the
windows, and pictures on the walls."

"If there is one thing I detest more than soda with whisky, it's satire;
you should leave such weapons to that glass-eyed lubber aft, who always
looks at me as if I were a monstrosity, and sets my muscles moving to
catch him by the neck.  Now, Frank, for the honour of all good men, sail
in and win the prize.  I mean it.  You can see for yourself that the
fellow is every kind of a rogue, and though the Commodore doesn't answer
well to the helm, it would be a wicked shame to see her taken in tow by
that shark.  Hang me if the fellow was not rattling dice last night with
that black-hearted piccaroon, Juarez."

"Is that a fact?"

"Ay, that it is; and it came across me that the two of them were too
friendly for our safety.  It was about four bells, and I had gone below
to turn in, when I heard the unmistakable rattle, and peeping in through
the ventilator above the door, saw the two of them hard at it, with the
everlasting bottle at their elbows."

"Have you told the Captain?"

"I did; and he scowled horribly.  You know how pleasant he looks when he
is put out; and he went down straightway and tumbled the gentle pirate
into his cell, at the same time threatening to clap Commins in irons if
he sought such congenial society again."

"And--?"

"Commins swore most foully.  I never thought the creature had such a
command of language; but the skipper asked him if he would complain to
the Commodore, when he calmed down rapidly into soft words and
treacherous smiles.  I tell you he is a plotter, and if anything goes
wrong with the rebels--the National party, by compliment--he would sell
us for a brass candlestick.  Now, if you will dash in, cut him out as he
lies at his moorings in the light of her friendship, I will not bring my
fascination to bear upon her."

"I'm afraid it's hopeless," said Frank, with a sigh; "and don't you
think we are talking without book?--for we have no reason to suppose
that she wishes to be freed from the attentions of Mr Commins, still
less that she is in any danger from him."

"You've got too much of the calculating machine in you, Frank--a defect
we sailors don't possess.  This is a matter not to be reasoned about I
can feel in my marrow that the man is a scheming rascal."

The Quartermaster struck eight bells, and Webster went off to take a
sight, the Captain having already entered upon that daily task.

They were three days off Cape Verde, having made the islands to take in
more coal, and were making across the Atlantic, in a south-westerly
course, right out of the track of vessels.  When Hume, who was looking
forward listlessly, cried out, "Ship ahead!" there was unusual interest
aroused, and glasses were brought to bear upon the distant speck.

"A steamer!" cried Captain Pardoe, "and lying to, for there's not so
much as a stain of smoke against the blue of the sky beyond."

The men and officers, now thoroughly aroused from their drowsy torpor,
stared at the distant ship which had so suddenly slipped from the
horizon into this silent sea.

"Do you make out any signals, Mr Webster?"

"No, sir; but I can't see a single boat, and it seems to me the tackle
is hanging from the davits."

"Strange," muttered the Captain; "for there have been no indications of
storm.  Maybe the boats are out for some business of life-saving."  And
he swept his glass to right and left of the steamer, which was rapidly
taking shape to the naked eye.

"Bring her round a couple of spokes--so.  Hold her at that."  The
_Swift_ bore down straight for the stranger, and for some minutes not a
word was spoken on her, as every man eagerly searched the ship, and then
the smooth water about her, for the first trace of any sign that would
explain the mystery of her fixed and lonely state.  The belt of sea
beyond widened out, her straight bows rose higher; a sailor picked out
the red band round her funnel, and now one, and then another, with a
quick cry, averred they saw men on board; but yet there was no sign of
her boats, or trace of smoke.

"She has a slight list to starboard, Mr Webster."

"I marked that, sir; but she has not settled down, and can't be making
water."

"She looks over seaworthy for a castaway.  Who is it can see a man on
board?"

The sailor Dick touched his cap.  "There's a chap swinging on the
starboard side, sir, just below the forward davits, and there's another
lying on the booby-trap."

The other men looked at Dick, then, with knitted brows under the shade
of their flat palms, gazed intently at the spots indicated; but, failing
to make out any object so small at such a distance, they all turned to
watch the Captain, and judged from the sharp inquiring glance he threw
at the Lieutenant before taking a longer view that there was now some
key to the mystery.

"There certainly is a man up aloft, and another hanging at the side; but
he is strangely still."

"It seems to me his legs move," muttered Webster.  "My God! what is that
below him?"

To the straining looks of the excited crew there flashed for a moment a
speck of white at the side of the ship, followed by a faint toss of
spray against the black hull.

"'Tis a shark!" shouted Dick.

Another pause succeeded, and from the doors there peered out the grim
faces of half a dozen stokers, who had, down below, felt the contagion
of excitement.

"There has been foul play," said the Captain; "no live man would remain
within a yard of those gaping jaws and not struggle to escape."

"Fire a blank charge, Mr Webster."

The twelve-pounder roared its summons, loud enough to wake the dead, but
no white face was lifted over the bulwarks of the vessel, and no
movement came from the two still forms.

"Make ready to launch the boat."

There was a rush of naked feet, four men tumbled into the boat with
Webster; the ropes were loosened, and the davits swung out.

"Captain, what is that dark cloud beyond the ship?" asked Miss Anstrade,
who had been standing on the bridge with a look of wonder in her face.

"A capful of wind, Miss Laura."

The steamer soon heeled over slowly to the breeze; then her stern,
making a ripple on the water, came round, and she lay broadside on,
showing the high poops, lofty bridge, and deep, well-like quarter-deck
of the ocean tramp.  The strange figure hanging over the swell of her
bows swung to the lazy motion of the ship, his feet nearly touching the
heave of the sea made by the list.

Out of that swell there rose the gleaming belly of the great fish, the
next moment the ropes hung limp against the ship!

A murmur of horror rose from the _Swift_, and Miss Anstrade caught Frank
convulsively by the arm.  "O Sancta Sanctissima!" she cried, "what a
fearful thing is the sea!"

Yet it could not have been more peaceful, as it came with a soft
caressing ripple against the grey sides of the catcher, its glossy
surface belying the evidence of that ghastly tragedy, whose eddying
ripples it had hastily smoothed away.

And the derelict, lazily dipping, pointed her tall narrow bows once more
at the _Swift_, and seemed to the sailor-men to appeal to them in her
helplessness; so they pitied her as if she had been a living thing.

"What is the matter with her?" asked Miss Anstrade, her face still
white.

"She has been abandoned, evidently; but I must find out why, for she
appears to be seaworthy.  Her rigging is uninjured; she cannot be making
water, and if her steam-gear were damaged she could trust to her sails."

The _Swift_ was now within a few lengths of the derelict, and passing
under her stern, turned to examine her port side.

There, at last, was some evidence of violence, for one of her iron
plates had been ripped open, the port side of the bridge had been
completely swept away, and there were two jagged holes in her forward
bulwark, the jagged ends projecting out, while fragments of a boat hung
from her davits.

"She's been under fire!" said the Captain in astonishment.

"Ay, ay, raked fore and aft by bow chasers," was the comment of the men.

"Stand by to lower the boat.  Let go!"  The boat sank to the sea,
shipshape and even, and Hume, with a word to the Captain, slipped down
into her.

"Give way!" cried Webster, standing up in the stern-sheets.  The men put
their backs into it, and very soon an active tar, making use of his toes
and hands, was on the quarter-deck.  He took one quick look around, then
let down a rope, up which the rest scrambled one after the other.  An
extraordinary spectacle met their gaze: the well was littered with
splinters; the ladder reaching to the main-deck was smashed; the
entrance to the alley-way blocked with the iron wall of the cabin, which
had been torn away from its fastenings.  On the starboard side, however,
the deck was clear, and passing round, they went up the step to the
main-deck.  The starboard side here was free, but on the port side the
deck was ploughed up, and hampered with a part of the bridge and portion
of the boat, while the row of skylights were shattered into pieces.

Sending a couple of men aloft to bring down the man on the booby,
Webster and Hume went below to examine the state-room.  The table was
set for dinner, but the plates were clean, and the meal had not been
served.  Fallen over on the table was a--bottle of whisky, from which
the spirit had run out over the cloth, still filling the room with a
strong odour, and on the floor was a broken glass.  The cabin door
opening into the saloon was open, and an inspection showed that the
contents had been overhauled, the boxes standing open, and the floors
covered with clothing which had been hastily tossed out.

On a small table, in the Captain's room, was the log-book, the last
entry broken off--

"1 degree North latitude, 30 West longitude.  Towards evening sighted a
cruiser, which showed the Brazilian (National) colours, and held on.
She signalled for our colours.  Run up the National flag, when she
hauled down her colour and ran up the Government flag, at the same time
signalling us to lay-to.  Expecting little mercy if she found out the
nature of our cargo, made a run for it.  She gave chase, and opened fire
with her bow guns.  Cruiser gave up the chase at dusk, just as a
discharge from her bow guns severely mauled us.  _Irene_ making water
fast, and resolved to take the boats and--"

"That explains her state," mused Webster, as he turned over the pages of
the log, which showed that the _Irene_, 1,500 tons, had left Bristol for
Rio in June, 1893, and had up to the last entry made an uneventful
voyage.

"It's a monstrous thing," said Frank, "that a peaceful merchant steamer
should have been served in this way."

"She probably carries contraband of war, and navy men don't go to much
ceremony before playing bowls with a blockade-runner.  Ask the skipper;
he's been at the game often, and by the same token I believe he took
command of the _Swift_ to wipe off old scores.  Let's get below."

Calling two of the men, Webster lifted a hatchway, and, with a lantern
from the storeroom, descended to investigate, and was not long in
finding that the main hold contained a large shipment of rifles packed
in cases.  Returning to deck, they found the two men who had been sent
aloft standing by the side of a young sailor who had been struck in the
head, evidently by a fragment of iron.  He was stiff in death, and
Webster, with a gentle touch, drew the eyelids over the blue eyes.

He then turned to the side to haul in the ropes, from which that other
figure had swung.  There was a loop in the end, in which the unfortunate
man in launching the forward boat had probably been entangled, and
overlooked by his comrades in the dark.  Subdued and saddened by what
they had seen, they returned to the _Swift_, and Webster made his
report.

"A blockade-runner," said the Captain, his gloomy eyes lighting up; "and
full of arms.  What a prize she would be for the rebels!"

"And for us, too," said Mr Commins quickly.  There was a long pause,
and the Captain paced restlessly to and fro, casting quick glances at
the derelict.  "She would mean a fortune," he continued slowly, "for I
happen to know that the land forces of the National party are badly
armed.  Now, Captain, here is an opportunity that falls right into your
mouth, and I would strongly urge you to accept the gift.  I admit I was
wrong about the _Esperanza_, but concerning the advisability of taking
possession of this rich derelict there can surely be no two opinions."

"But I should have to place a crew on board, and that would weaken us,"
said the Captain, with an air as though he liked the proposal.

"I, myself, don't see any bar to that arrangement," said Commins,
stroking his chin, and eyeing the Captain thoughtfully.  "I dare say
now, with half our crew, you yourself could undertake to run the
blockade with that ship."

"I am not going to leave the _Swift_," said the Captain roughly.

"I should hope not," laughed Commins.  "I had in mind the history of
some of your daring trips as blockade-runner, and, of course, as I
presume, Mr Webster, and our young friend, Mr Hume, with as few men as
you could spare, could be put on board.  They could make for some port
north of Rio, and after reporting her whereabouts and arranging for the
reward, you could re-ship the crew previous to carrying out the object
of this voyage."

"That would mean delay, and Miss Anstrade may object," urged the
Captain, who, nevertheless, was evidently pleased with the scheme.

"You have heard the Captain's suggestion, madam," said Commins, turning
to Miss Anstrade, "which seems to me very important, and which, if
carried out, would have a most valuable bearing on our chance of
success.  With that ship and its cargo in our hands we could, with
confidence, ask for every assistance from the national commanders ashore
and afloat."

Miss Anstrade knitted her brows as she looked at the speaker.

"You know my wish," she said wearily, "is to reach Rio as soon as
possible.  I understand you to say that the cargo of yonder ship would
realise a fortune, and it seems to me if I demanded from my struggling
countrymen money in return for services, they would be under no
indebtedness to me.  If we are to weaken our strength to save that ship
I would prefer to give it up without any question of reward."

"But you have no objection to the crew sharing in any prize money that
may be offered," said Commins quickly, with a side glance at the
Captain.

"None whatever," she said coolly.

"And you consent to our saving the ship?"

"I suppose so, though I clearly see my opinion would not be considered
if it were opposed to the step."

"Not so, madam," said Captain Pardoe.  "That ship and its cargo should
realise 90,000 pounds, but if you say leave it, I will send her to the
bottom, so that she shall not fall into the enemy's hands."

"Do as you wish," she said, with a sad smile, and turned away with a
sigh.

The Captain and Mr Commins continued eagerly to discuss the matter,
while Hume, who had been standing near with Webster, plucked the latter
by the sleeve to draw him aside.

"Well, what do you think of this new scheme?"

"I don't know that I like it over well, but I judge the temptation would
prove a strong one for the Captain.  It is a big stroke of luck, after
all."

"The Captain appears to be rather keen upon money making."

"I suppose he is," said Webster slowly; "and so are most men when they
have the chance.  Would you say there was any sentiment about the
skipper?"

"As little as there is about that twelve-pounder."

"That's where you lose your compass," said Webster gravely.  "For
fifteen years the Captain's dream has been to save money enough to make
a home for his future wife, my sister, Hume.  When I was a boy at school
he was courting her--a fine, high-spirited fellow, with a way about him
that won everybody's goodwill.  I have marked him grow more silent and
stern as the years went by, and I have seen my sister's gaiety grow into
a sweet and tender patience; but never a word of marriage from him.  He
was waiting for his fortune, and twice he made it and lost it, once
after ten years in the merchant service, when he was wrecked, and once
after running a blockade, when he was captured and imprisoned by the
Peruvians.  `'Tis coming, love,' he would say; `a house for you and a
little farmyard for me, down in the old county.'  Poor little Loo!  I
think I see her now sitting, as sometimes she would when the housework
was done, with her hands in her lap, looking wistfully into the future.
God grant her wishes may be fulfilled!"

"I say no more about the Captain," said Frank warmly, "except to echo
your prayer.  For his sake I hope this plan will carry through well, but
after what you said of Commins I am suspicious.  He may have some design
in dividing our strength."

"No doubt he has, but he might as safely light a cigar at a volcano as
attempt to win over any of our men."

The Captain's voice here rang out:

"Mr Webster, we will lay by till morning.  Take all the men on board
and get it as shipshape as possible.  Find, if you can, the supercargo's
manifesto, and if you can't, then make a rough inventory of the cargo."

The _Swift_ was laid alongside the _Irene_, on her weather side, and
moored fore and aft, the smoothness of the sea permitting this.  In this
position the low funnels did not rise above the lofty side of the
steamer, and she was completely hidden from the view of any vessel
coming up on the starboard side.  Her fires were damped down, steam shut
off, and the engineer and his staff were soon busy in the engine-room of
the _Irene_, while the Quartermaster, with his men, smartly cleared away
the litter in readiness for the carpenters.

So the work went briskly on, and in the quiet of the evening, in the
presence of all the crew, the body of the dead sailor lad, sewn up in a
sail-cloth, was committed to the deep sea, the bass voice of the Captain
ringing out solemnly in the impressive silence.  And when the last eddy
had died away the Captain shivered and drew his hand across his brow.

Maybe the summons for him also had already sounded, and he paced the
deck long into the night.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE SEA FIGHT.

The _Swift_ had been almost deserted, as the larger decks of the _Irene_
offered an irresistible attraction, and when the work was abandoned at
dusk the crew took possession of the forecastle, while Miss Anstrade,
with Hume and Webster, lingered on the poop, after surrendering the
main-deck amidships to the Captain, who preferred his own company.  Mr
Commins, alone for choice, remained on the catcher, and for a long time
the glow of his cigar could be seen under the small awning, while
Juarez, over whom he had offered to keep strict watch, lay near, under
the shadow of a lamp, smoking cigarettes.  The Brazilian Captain had
never been permitted to appear on deck when Miss Anstrade was there, and
his close confinement below had not improved his naturally brutal
nature, but he had tamed his temper down to the point of almost abject
humility in imploring the Captain to let him on deck.  Now the guttural
tones of his voice could be heard as he made occasionally a few remarks
to Mr Commins, the only man who cared to hold converse with him.

The night was beautiful, the dark vault of the sky gloriously gemmed
down to the dark belt of the horizon, while out of the intense black of
the sea there gleamed, near at hand, swordlike flashes of phosphorescent
fire from predatory fish, and between the sea and the sky there was no
living thing to break the brooding silence.  The men, glad of the
opportunity to stretch their legs, were soon asleep, and, except for an
occasional murmur of voices from the three on the poop and the rough
burr of Juarez at intervals, there was no sound on board.  The swell of
the sea rising and sinking between the catcher and the _Irene_ made a
soft ripple, followed by a deep sigh, having a power in its melancholy
music to draw Miss Anstrade to the port side, where she had leant with
her elbows on the rail, until at the dim sight of Juarez she started
back with a shudder of revulsion and sought the remoter side.

There the three of them leant, the efforts of the two men to talk to the
girl between them gradually lessening to complete silence.  She had
changed greatly since the excitement of the wild rush to Madeira, had
grown listless, the womanhood in her revolting against the strain and
burden she had rashly imposed on herself, and at each sign of
helplessness the two young men had felt more tender towards her, trying,
each in his own way, to show their sympathy.  They had talked often
together about the object of the voyage, and, sanguine though they were
with the ardour of youth, they could see nothing but disaster before
them, while the desperate nature of the enterprise had also come home to
her.  Presently, with a moan, she thrust her hands forward:

"There is nothing but failure before me, and perhaps death."

"You are over-worn," said Frank gently; "and, indeed, the _Swift_ is too
rough a boat for a lady."

"Ay, that it is, Miss Laura," said Webster, "and, as for talk of failure
or death, they are for us to prove, and not for you, who are made for
better things.  This steamer has been thrown across us by the mercy of
Providence, and it is your duty almost to accept the gift, and embark in
it for a safe port."

"I despise myself," she said wearily; "but I have no courage and no
hope, and shudder at the thought of remaining on the _Swift_.  I cannot
understand it."

"I think I can," said Frank, in a low tone.  "You have been mistaken in
yourself, and your presence on board, in contrast with the grim ship,
has seemed to me a sort of marvel.  You are fitted for better things."

"You mean I have no strength of purpose," she said slowly.  "And do you
expect me to relinquish this enterprise, to go back without striking one
blow, to surrender to my weakness, and for ever be a victim of my
cowardice, haunted by a memory, and lashed by my conscience?  No--no--
never!"

She threw her head up proudly.

"You may go to safety in this ship; but--I--I will do what I have said."

"You mistake us," said Hume; "neither Mr Webster nor myself asks you to
give up the enterprise.  We have no thought of turning from it; but we
do think strongly that you should not share in the work and worry of it.
It is not fair to you; it is unjust to us."

"Unjust, sir--how?"

"Madam, you may not know it, but every man on board the _Swift_ thinks
more of you than of his own safety, and if they all knew you were ashore
they would be happier in working out your purpose."

"You are right there, Frank," said Webster.  "We'd go into action with a
laugh if you were not aboard, madam, but every shell would make our
hearts beat with fear if you were with us."

"Ah! my friends," she answered with emotion, "you make my sorrow all the
greater to think I should have brought you to this, and be myself so
fearful of the end.  Forgive me, but I am proud and weak by turns.  Oh,
if I had the courage of a man!"

"You are better as you are," said Frank.  "Your weakness has more power
over us than if you never winced or wavered."

Suddenly she stood back and looked at them, laughing low.

"What is it?"

"It has occurred to me, gentlemen, that you are both to remain on the
_Irene_."

"Yes, madam; but why does that amuse you?" said Frank helplessly.

"And so you have been scheming to have my company.  I am sure I am
greatly charmed, and would be more if you had not pretended an anxiety
for my safety."

"Pretended, madam!" gasped Webster.  "I'll see the Captain hanged before
I leave the _Swift_.  He can sail this old tub himself, so that he takes
you with her."

"Thank you, sir," she said, with another rippling laugh, "though you
might have turned me over to the Captain more gracefully.  And you, Mr
Hume?"

"We are plain men," he began stiffly.

"Yes, you are very plain, and very stupid."

At this unexpected retort the two men fell into a gloomy silence, being
too much in earnest and too greatly surprised to laugh.

"Ah, dear," she said, "that I had one woman with me, then I could laugh,
and rage, and weep upon her neck within a minute, and have no ill looks
in return.  Come, my friends, be not angry."

She gave each one a hand, and each raised it to his lips, which showed
that they could express themselves well in deeds, though not in words.

She placed both hands to her cheeks, and her fine eyes glowed as she
looked at them.

"It is the kiss of brave men," she said in low, thrilling tones; "the
pledge of your lives to me.  Ah, my friends, I read that little act more
clearly than what you could tell me in words, and see, for those who
love you, for the mother who has treasured you, in return for the homage
the strong and brave pay to woman, I kiss you."

She leant forward, and pressed her lips to their cheeks in turn.

They stood back and straightened themselves with kindling eyes, feeling
as the young knight who has received his spurs.

"Out with all lights!"  It was the Captain's voice, ringing out loud and
stern.

There was a breathless pause, followed by a confused murmur of voices.

"Silence, forward, there.  Is that you, Mr Dixon?"--a quiet, grave man,
whose heart was with his wife and child at home.

"Yes, sir."

"Get up steam, but be careful with your fire."

"What can the matter be?" gasped Miss Anstrade, at the sound of men
moving quietly from the _Irene_ into the _Swift_.

Webster, at the first cry from the Captain, had sprung to the bulwark,
holding to a wire rope-stay.

"There's a steamer's lights away aft.  I wonder she has escaped us."

The Captain's dark form appeared on the poop.

"Mr Webster, see the fires relit on this ship."

"Ay, ay, sir.  What do you make her out to be?"

"When did you mark her?"

"When you called, sir."

"Ah!  She appeared an hour since, and I judge from her movements and her
lights she is a man-of-war, probably the same cruiser which surprised
this ship before."

"Do you think she has seen us?"

"I'm afraid so, though our lights must be very dim, for she altered her
course and is bearing down.  She may pass us, unless she brings the
spars of the _Irene_ against a star.  I won't leave this prize, however,
until I am obliged."

Webster moved off, and the others, including the sailors on board,
watched the approaching vessel; while Mr Commins, who could not, of
course, see the stranger from the hidden catcher, hurried on board to
find out the cause of the commotion.

"You think she is the Brazilian steamer?" he said in a voice of alarm,
listening to the explanation.  "Curse it!  Misfortune dogs us.  I wish
we were out of this!"

"Speak for yourself," answered the Captain in a growl.

Mr Commins lingered awhile, and then went off to give the news to
Juarez, who received it with a savage laugh.

The red light rapidly approached through the black of the night, and it
was evident she would pass very near.  The excitement grew rapidly as
the news was passed from mouth to mouth in rapid whispers.

"Mr Hume, will you help Miss Anstrade to the _Swift_; pass the word to
the men to get on board, and have them stationed at the guns."

In a few minutes Captain Pardee was the only man on board the _Irene_,
with the exception of the stokers, who were busily preparing the fires.

To those in the _Swift_ who could see nothing there followed a long and
anxious state of suspense, broken at last by the low voice of the
Captain speaking from above.

"Mr Hume, stand by to slip the fastenings."

They held their breath, listening, and to them came the regular beat of
engines.

Louder and louder grew the noise, but they could see nothing of the
danger, and its imminence seemed to them the nearer.  There was a
movement in the air, the pulsation of the distant screw affected them so
that they believed the _Swift_ itself was throbbing, and presently the
_Irene_ leant over towards them gently, and as gently rolled away.

"'Tis the wave from her wake," muttered the Quartermaster.

The sound of the engines gradually lessened.

The Captain's figure appeared above.  "She has passed," he said.

There was a rush for the tall sides of the _Irene_, and presently
everyone was staring forward at a green light fast diminishing in the
dark, now at its blackest before the dawn.

"Thank God for His mercy," murmured Miss Anstrade, who had stood near
Hume silent and white, though without a sign of fear.

"You may well say that, Miss Laura," said the Captain.

The green light sunk rapidly, and had almost disappeared, when suddenly
a brilliant glare shot up, throwing a sickly light over the group on the
poop.

The Captain gave a bound to the side, and next minute there was a hoarse
cry as his pistol rang out.

"It is that villain Juarez; send his black soul to hell!  Overboard with
him!" roared the Captain.

The black-bearded Quartermaster, balancing himself on the rail a moment,
sprang to the iron deck below, and next minute there was a howl of
mingled fear and rage, followed by a splash.

"Launch the boat, and smother that light with a sail!"

The Captain gnashed his teeth as he glared at the brilliant flare from a
life-saving light floating on the quiet waters, and sending forth an
appeal to the distant battleship.  Mr Commins stood in the catcher near
the spot where the slinking figure of Juarez had been shot down,
seemingly without power to move, as he looked horror-struck at the dark
waters.

Without a second's delay the boat was launched, and a strip of canvas
thrown over the light, when the darkness settled down blacker than
before.  But the mischief had been done, and sullen looks were directed
at the dim speck in the distance.

"Ay, ay, there she comes round," said the sailor Dick.  In the distance
a red light replaced the green, but as they watched it suddenly
disappeared.

"She has gone," said Miss Anstrade, with an hysterical sob.

The Captain shook his head.

"She has put out her lights, and will hang about till morning."

"We'd better slip away, sir," said Webster.

The Captain lifted his fist, and banged it into his open hand.

"By the Lord," he growled, "I'll not leave this ship without a fight for
it!"

The Captain, however, gave way so far to the urgent protestations of
Miss Anstrade, that he abandoned any idea of placing a crew on board the
derelict until daylight revealed whether there was any chance of getting
clear away.  Fires were kept going on board the _Swift_, a look-out was
stationed on the larger vessel, and the men were sent to their berths.
Miss Anstrade retired to snatch an uneasy sleep, and the Captain,
leaving Webster and Hume in charge, went also to his cabin, falling
almost immediately into a sound sleep.  The small hours of the night
passed anxiously to the two officers who patrolled the poop of the
_Irene_ in silence, listening for any sound that would indicate the
whereabouts of the stranger.  There was, however, no sign of her
presence, and when the intense darkness of the night began to fade
before the dawn, a thick, white, low-lying mist wrapped the ship as in
an impenetrable cloak.

Webster, to get a view over the mist, if possible, went aloft, his
figure soon becoming blurred, and after a long stay, descended rapidly.

"She is near us," he said in an excited whisper to Hume.  "Waken the
Captain.  We could slip away without being seen."

Very soon Captain Pardoe climbed on board, and heard what his Lieutenant
had to say.

"I should judge her position to be about a mile on the starboard beam,
and she is steaming ahead at eight knots.  If the mist doesn't lift we
could easily slip her by making a nor'-west course."

"Which way is the wind?  Ah! blowing across to her.  She would hear us
getting under way.  We'll lie close awhile; but do you, meanwhile, Mr
Hume, rouse the crew; see they have a nip to warm them up, and get them
to their quarters quickly and in silence.  Is all in readiness on board
the ship, Mr Webster?"

"Yes, sir--except the crew."

"I'll take a look at her myself;" and the Captain went heavily into the
rattlins.

There was a movement on the _Swift_ as the men presently went to their
stations, and a sound of murmuring voices, followed, presently, by the
rush of escaping steam from both vessels as the fires were stirred.  A
few minutes more, and the stranger would put himself out of hearing.
The engineer stood in readiness to set the screw in motion, and men were
at hand ready to throw off the lashings which moored the catcher to the
_Irene_.  Suddenly, however, the mist began rapidly to melt, showing in
an instant almost a wide stretch of grey water.

The Captain reached the deck with a bound, just as the notes of a
boatswain's whistle came faintly over the still waters from beyond the
melting mist.

"She has seen us," said the Captain hoarsely.

As he spoke, there appeared the blurred outline of a big ship, about a
mile and a half distant, over the starboard stern, and the next instant
she stood out, broadside on, just as she came round, with tall masts,
and lofty sides of gleaming white.

"She has caught us, Captain," said Webster quietly; "and we could easily
have got away in the night."

The Captain turned on his heels with a stormy look on his face, and
walked a few steps, when he stood with his eyes bent on the deck.  Then
he threw his head up, gazed keenly at the cruiser, and when he faced
Webster again his mind was made up.

"On board," he cried, waving his hand to the catcher, and in a moment
was on the deck of the smaller ship.

"Madam and men," he said in his deep tones, "the ship we saw last night
is, I fear, a cruiser of the Brazilian navy.  She is near us, and if she
is an enemy we are in danger.  The blame is mine.  I should have kept on
instead of remaining to save this vessel."

Miss Anstrade made as though she would speak, but the Captain waved his
hand.

"Madam--Miss Laura--no words you could say would add to the regret I
feel.  But there is no time.  I have brought you into this peril, and
please God I will deliver you.  I want nine men to fight this ship.  Who
volunteers?"

There was a moment's pause as the men looked at one another, then the
Quartermaster stood out.

"We are all yours, Captain; to the last man."

"Ay, ay," came the response.

A dull flush crept into the Captain's face.  "Thank you, men," he said
quietly; "but I want nine only.  Quartermaster, select eight.  Mr Hume,
help Miss Anstrade on board.  Mr Webster, take command of the _Irene_,
and make full steam as soon as I engage the cruiser."

The men lingered reluctantly, and Miss Anstrade, with heaving breast,
stood looking at the Captain.

"Quick, Mr Hume," said the Captain, and at the same moment he took Miss
Anstrade by the hand and led her to the ladder.  "I am very sorry," he
said; then his hand was seized by a sailor, and all the men in turn
wrung his hand as they passed.

He looked round, and saw Webster standing by the engineer.

"Come, Jim, my boy," he said to the Lieutenant, "it is your duty to save
Miss Anstrade."

Webster moved forward with a strange look in his face.

"Remember Loo," he said hoarsely, "and let me stay here."

"It cannot be, my lad.  Good-bye, my boy, good-bye, and tell her I did
what she would expect me to.  Up."  He almost forced Webster to the
ladder, then turned.

"Mr Dixon," he said, and looked at the engineer.  "If I could spare you
I would, for it's death before us."

The engineer smiled softly.

"I am not sorry, Captain," he said, "for I understand."

He took one last look round at the wide sea and crimson heavens, then
his lips moved, he turned to grasp the Captain's outstretched hand, and
the two men looked into one another's eyes.

A pale figure of a man slipped out of the door and made furtively for
the steps.

"Mr Commins,"--the Captain's hand was laid upon his arm--"you will stay
with me, for your scheming nature and coward heart have brought us to
this."

Mr Commins trembled beneath the gloomy eyes turned upon him, cast one
imploring look at the faces above, then, without a word, allowed the
Captain to lead him to the cabin door.

The sound of a gun broke with relief upon the strained nerves of the
spectators.

"Cut the moorings!"

Silently the men on the _Irene_ cut through the ropes, and the _Swift_
floated free.

There was another sullen report, and a shell tore through the tall
rigging of the _Irene_.

The big, white cruiser, with a cloud of smoke hanging about her sides,
was leisurely steaming up about half a mile distant, and there was no
question of her nature, nor of the ferocity of her commander, who could
ruthlessly open fire for sheer devilment on a defenceless ship, for the
_Swift_ was up to the present completely hidden.

What must have been the astonishment of her people when, following their
last shot, there broke from the blockade-runner a murmur of cheering as
every soul on board cracked his throat in sending up a loud hurrah for
the _Swift_ and her gallant crew; and when, immediately afterwards,
there shot out from the shadow of the _Irene_ a long, low grey craft.
When the hunter, coming upon the dead quarry he had wounded earlier in
the day, suddenly discovers, crouching behind, the striped body of the
tiger, his feeling of dismay, perhaps, would be the same.

"Captain!  Captain!" cried Miss Anstrade, "what are you doing?  Ah,
heaven, I see it now; may the saints preserve him!"  She caught hold of
a rope, and stood looking from the catcher to the towering battleship,
with its broadside pierced for heavy guns, and its decks crowded with
men.

"Oh," she said, "it is cruel!"

Captain Pardoe stood on the bridge before entering the conning-tower,
his glass to his eyes, and his feet braced apart.  Then he turned and
waved his hand to the _Irene_, bringing it to his mouth in a trumpet.

"Steam away at full speed, and make for Cape Verde.  Good-bye."

Another cheer, strangely hoarse, broke from the _Irene_, and was
responded to by the men on the catcher, and a moment later the four-inch
gun opened fire with a roar.  The smaller guns spoke, and the whole five
of them flashed out shot after shot, making such a volume of smoke that
the low ship was at once completely hidden from those on the _Irene_.

"My God," murmured Webster, "why did I not stay with him?"

"Don't let his sacrifice be in vain," said Hume, touching Webster on the
shoulder.  "He will be happier if he knows we can escape."

"It is terrible, Frank; I cannot give the order.  Do so yourself."

Hume sadly went to the bridge and gave the order for full speed ahead,
but the _Irene_ had not gone a mile when, as though by common consent,
the steamer slowed down, and everyone on board, even to the stokers,
crowded on to the stern poop to watch the unequal battle, letting the
steamer drift as she liked.

The cruiser had made not the slightest attempt to stop the _Irene_, for
the storm of shot bursting in a sudden upon her, when she was in the
full security of conscious strength, had plunged her into a state of
wild confusion.  At the first smash and yell of the missiles along her
sides and through her tall rigging, there had been a wild rush from her
decks as the terrified crew sought shelter from the mysterious enemy,
and their panic was increased by the fierce bombardment which the
catcher poured in from her five quick-firing guns at the rate of thirty
shots a minute.  They saw approaching a revolving cloud of smoke, out of
which there flashed flames of fire, and the cruiser fairly turned and
fled, pouring in a scattering broadside which went wide of the mark.

When the _Irene_ slowed down, the cruiser, about two miles distant, was
steaming on a south-west course, and the _Swift_ was turning under cover
of her smoke, which hung low on the water.  The men on the derelict
raised cheer on cheer in a state of great exultation.

"It is magnificent," said Miss Anstrade, with shining eyes.  "Why don't
you cheer, Mr Webster?" and she gave out a ringing cry.

"It is too good to be true," murmured the Lieutenant, as he anxiously
watched the cruiser.  "Ah, I feared so.  See, he is coming round."

The stately white ship, making a wide sweep to port, came round, letting
go her broadside of six guns and her two heavy bow chasers before she
steadied on a course which would bring her very soon opposite the
_Irene_.  The water about the _Swift_ was torn up, and she heeled over
to the shock.

"She is struck!"

"Good God, she is sinking!"

"No; hurrah! she is righting."

Miss Anstrade covered her face with her hands, then threw them from her
with a passionate gesture, while Webster and Hume stood by with white,
set faces.

The _Swift_ had pointed her bows at the cruiser, and was firing now only
with her four-inch, at the same time steaming slowly astern, as though
waiting for some opening.

The contrast between the combatants was most striking, as the _Swift_
lay broadside on to the _Irene_, a long, low, grey line on the great
waste, while, though further off, the high bows of the cruiser, her
lofty decks and towering spars, loomed vast and terrible.

"God's truth!" cried one sailor, smashing his brawny fist against the
bulwarks, in a fury; "it's wrong; it's a shame; they're not matched!"

"Watch him; he's porting his helm."

The cruiser was now altering her course, and the water was piled up as
she turned a few points to port, bringing her bow chasers to bear on the
_Swift_.

"They'll rake the _Swift_ fore and aft; sweep her guns away," muttered
Webster, moistening his lips.

"Look! there he goes!  God bless the Captain!  Hurrah for our mates!"

The _Swift_ suddenly moved ahead, and gaining way from the tremendous
power of her engines, leapt towards her huge opponent.  That moment the
heavy guns roared, but the shells missed their prey by a few feet.  As
it was the two funnels were sheered off as though they had been cut, and
the fragments whirled aloft.  Then the catcher's guns maintained a
furious fire as she swept on, but the cruiser, completing her manoeuvre,
went round to port, and from her bow to her stern her broadside guns
thundered one after the other.

A shudder, a hoarse murmur of grief, ran round the group on the _Irene_.

Out of the smoke the _Swift_ swept to leeward, rolling heavily.  Her
long gun had been torn away from its fastenings and thrown across the
ship, the shields about the twelve-pounders were battered down, and the
brave men who had served them were stretched motionless.

Her guns were silenced.  There remained yet her torpedoes, but were
there any left to work them?

The cruiser was still going round to bring her port broadside to bear,
and it all depended now whether Captain Pardoe could turn the _Swift_,
carry her under the stern of the enemy, and discharge his torpedoes.

But the _Swift_ rolled heavily, and at the moment when she should have
turned to starboard her bows went round.

"Her steering gear has been injured," said Webster, with a groan.

Out of the raffle, forward by the conning-tower, a man appeared, and
with a perceptible stagger reeled aft to the wheel, which had escaped
uninjured.

"'Tis the Quartermaster," whispered the men.

From the cruiser's deck men fired at him, but he reached the wheel, and
threw his strength into it.

Then on the shattered portion of the bridge there stood the figure of
the Captain.  A moment he looked around him, then above his head to the
summit of a single bare pole on board there mounted a black ball, and
there streamed out the red and blue of the Union Jack!

Both ships came round, the _Swift_ stem on, and the cruiser with her
broadside.

The six guns flashed together in one thunderous roar, the _Swift_ seemed
to shrink at the shock, her decks were swept, the bridge torn to
fragments; then she leapt forward and buried her ram in the body of her
great enemy.  Through iron and wood the spur of steel forced its way,
and the splinters and crash could be heard above the fierce lashings of
the screws and the wild cries of the crew.

For a breathless pause the catcher battered at the wound she had made;
then she was swept round against the side of the cruiser, and sunk stern
foremost.  Into the whirlpool made the cruiser dipped her wounded side,
her decks came over at first slowly to the weight of rushing water;
then, with a mighty smash her masts struck the sea and she turned bottom
up; there was a flash of shining copper, and then the waves above her
closed, with a rush, and there was nothing but tossing foam to mark
where the two antagonists had gone down, almost locked together in their
last deadly embrace.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

"TAKE ME WITH YOU."

The terrible swiftness of the tragedy following upon the fierce combat
had left the spectators on the _Irene_ stupefied.  They gazed at the
tossing waters with startled eyes, and when they withdrew their gaze,
and would look at each other, there came between them the vision of
falling spars, of people precipitated headlong into the sea, and of a
great ship rolling over on them.

Then some of the men sobbed, and some swore.

Webster whispered the name of his sister, and Miss Anstrade seemed to
shrink within herself.

Their comrades, those brave hearts, gone, gone in a few minutes, and to
save them!

They put about, steamed slowly over the waste of waters, where floated a
litter of wreckage, and rescued half a dozen Brazilian sailors.  Of
Captain Pardoe, or any of his gallant band, there was no trace, and the
_Irene_ moved up and down among the wreckage, while those on board
searched in vain for a familiar form.

Then Lieutenant Webster steered for the east.

The venture was over.  The _Irene_, battered as she was, could not dare
to risk another meeting with a cruiser, and so, sick at heart and
indifferent, Webster accepted Hume's advice and steamed away from
Brazil.

As for Miss Anstrade, she went, feeling her way, like one blinded, to
the cabin that had been prepared for her, and there sat white and
silent, while her dark eyes, glaring with an unnatural light, moved
restlessly from object to object.  In the afternoon she rushed on deck
in a raging fever, and, calling on her brother and Captain Pardoe, would
have leapt overboard had not Hume caught her as her hand was on the
rigging.  He and Webster carried her down, struggling pitifully, and in
turns the two of them watched through the night by her side, their
sorrow tinged with awe and bitterness, because of their helplessness, at
the pathetic ravings of a mind in delirium.

Through the next dreary day they continued their vigil, and the sailors,
gathering in groups, added to the gloom of the ship by their distressed
air and dark forebodings.

"They knew it," said they one to another.  "No job of that sort, led by
a woman, could succeed.  It was against Nature, and the ways of the sea.
The ship was doomed, and they were doomed, and they wished to God they
had gone to their death bravely on the _Swift_."

These were not brave words; but superstition has not been driven from
the high seas by steam, and once the natural buoyancy of a sailor is
steeped in the gloom of ill-luck, there is no brightness in his horizon.
The heroism of Captain Pardoe and their comrades, who had courted
destruction in the _Swift_, filled them, moreover, with a bitter feeling
of irritation that they themselves should have been spared, and mingled
with the dark prevailing tinge of superstition was an impulse of
recklessness which, in the absence of any emergency, could find
expression only in breaches of discipline.  They lolled about in the
shadow, seeking relief from the intolerable heat.

The man at the wheel gave a listless eye to the binnacle, and the
_Irene_, battered, dirty, with fires ill-kept, ploughed slowly on, as
melancholy, almost, as though she were still a derelict.

Webster took the sun at noon, and, utterly worn out, fell asleep over
his reckonings, and so he was found in the afternoon by Hume, who came
on deck from a long watch.

"Have I been asleep?  There's a heaviness in the air and a strange
weight about my eyelids.  How is she, Hume?"

"Quiet now, with the Captain's boy at the door.  Was it a month ago the
_Swift_ went down?"

"Only yesterday, Frank.  My God! what a difference!  The sea is not the
same, nor the sky, nor the air we breathe, nor the look of anyone."

"What an old tub this is, and do you note how the men hang about?  I
feel as though I cannot breathe freely.  I have been thinking of your
sister; it is a sad end to her waiting."

"Ah! poor Loo," murmured Webster.  "Frank, I dare not go home with this
story.  I cannot.  She will say I should have taken the risk myself."

"Yet his death was worth living for."  Hume moved backward and forward
by the chart house, while Webster gloomily looked at his figures.
"Webster," he said earnestly, "do you think there is any hope?"

"For Miss Anstrade?  It is terrible that she should have fallen ill--
terrible.  I could have borne anything almost but that.  Without a
doctor, without a nurse, left to the bungling of two rough men.  It will
be worse still when she comes to an understanding of her helplessness."

"You think she will recover?  As I watched her this afternoon there came
a transparency into her cheeks, and the crease between her brows melted,
leaving a face of great calm, scarcely ruffled by a breath."

"Sorrow kills slowly, Frank.  She will overcome this weakness.  Do you
remember how she stood on the bridge, scorning danger, when we danced
down the river and the Captain was alive?"

"And now!"

"Did you hear her call on her brother in the night?  So, I thought,
would a spirit call upon its partner sent into the outer darkness.  Each
cry has taken a year off my life, and my heart is weak now from the pain
of it.  Do you think that my sister also will call like that?  I have
been thinking that if a storm laid the ship on her beam ends, and
whipped the masts from her, and called on us to fight for our lives, it
would be a relief."

Frank laid his hand gently on the Lieutenant's shoulder.

"Let us pluck up spirit and face the storm that is in us.  I, too, had a
spell of despair last night till I thought of Captain Pardoe and Mr
Dixon.  Then I was ashamed of myself.  I can see Dixon's face now as he
smiled before he stepped down to his living tomb.  What do you think
they would say to us if they saw us making so poor a return for their
lives?"

"You are right, my lad," said Webster slowly.  "We must remember our
duty to them."

"And to our Commodore."

"Ay; God bless her!"

"That's right," continued Hume, with assumed cheerfulness.  "Now do you
make your reckonings, and we'll stand away for the nearest port."

"That will be Ascension," said Webster, after a pause.

They arrived at Ascension on a blazing hot day, and dropped anchor in
the blue waters of the little bay, enclosed, not like Funchal, in a
setting of green, but by an arid shore, with a waste of sands stretching
back to a lofty, sun-baked hill, on which glowed one solitary spot of
green.  There was the Convent of Sisters, and thither was Miss Anstrade
taken in a slow-moving cart.

Hume and Webster returned to the dirty little town, flanked on the
inland side by a series of pits sunk in the sand for the habitation of
pigs.  Here they sadly arranged for the salvage of the _Irene_, and her
crew shipped home on board a Cape steamer, they themselves remaining
till Miss Anstrade was pronounced well enough, when they determined to
take her passage on the first homeward-bound passenger boat.

Within the patio of the white-walled convent, where the hot air was
cooled by swinging mats and the spray of a fountain, Miss Anstrade,
within a week of her arrival, was reclining in a long wickerwork chair,
with two young men at her side.  She had quickly recovered under the
tender hands of the sisters, and was now listening to the plans made for
her departure for England.  She was dressed in white, with a rich red
rose for her only ornament, and a deep pallor in her cheeks from her
recent illness, her figure, by contrast with the sun-browned men at her
side, looking altogether slight and delicate.

"I understand you are not returning to England; what, then, if I may
ask, are your intentions?  You surely do not mean to remain on this
cinder?"

"Do you remember," said Hume, "what I told you of the Golden Rock?"

"A long time since, was it not? but I remember it well, and the strange
feeling of second sight that came upon me, so that it seemed to me I saw
the flash and sparkle of the Rock in a savage land.  I weaved a romance
about it in that time before--before the world changed to me."

The two men looked inquiringly at each other, for they had found no
romance in the thought of the Rock, only a thought of money.

"Everyone," she continued, in a dreamy voice, "has a Golden Rock
somewhere within the sweep of his horizon--a gleaming spot of brightness
that fills them in times of depression with hope of better things.  But
you have not told me."

"We have talked it over, and Webster has promised to throw in his lot
with me, though I am afraid it will be a fearful loss of time to him."

"This man has no imagination, Miss Anstrade," said Webster, with a faint
smile; "but as for me, I thoroughly believe in this mountain of gold
that awaits us, and look upon my fortune as already made."

"Ah! yes, it is there; and how happy you will be seeking for it, strong
in your friendship and confident in your strength, while I--I must go
back to the old life, a prey to my thoughts."  She brought her brows
together in a frown, and then leant back in her chair with an air of
depression.

"I am afraid," said Frank slowly, "there's little romance awaiting us,
and little pleasure, for the difficulties are great."

"Still, you will be together, and the joy of companionship compensates.
When do you go?"

"By the first opportunity after you sail, Miss Anstrade."

"So," she said, with a sob, "you abandon me--leave me to go back alone
among strangers, with my memory!"

"We will return with you, madam, if you wish it; but we could be of no
further assistance to you, else, be sure, we would not have thought of
our plans."

"But I have money yet, and could equip another ship."

"Yes, madam; but the war in Brazil is near its end.  The news was
brought yesterday.  The Government has triumphed."

"Ah!"  She let her hands drop in her lap, and looked straight before
her.  "And what of my father?"

"Colonel de Anstrade lost his life in the attack upon the Castle, whilst
gallantly leading a sortie on the Government troops.  He died like a
soldier."

There was a long silence.  She made a sign of the Cross, but gave way to
no storm of weeping, being dulled by the force of grief.  Presently a
sister stole to her side, and they withdrew, going back to the little
town to await the arrival of the steamer from Cape Town, which was
reported due within two days.

Before that time, while they thought of returning for the last time to
the convent, a cart drew up before the small hotel, and out of it
stepped Miss Anstrade herself.

"You see," she said, with a wan smile, "I have recovered, and since you
have not been to call on me, I have come to you."

"We were just about setting off, having waited for certain information
of the steamer.  If the good sisters had allowed it, we would have
remained near you all the time."

"Ay, kept watch and watch without the walls; and every night we strolled
to the fort to see the distant light on the Convent Tower.  If there was
anything amiss with you, the sister agreed to show two lights, when we'd
have posted off."

"So you did not forget me, then?" she said, with one of her old radiant
smiles.

"No more than the sailor could forget the lone star by which he steers
in the dark night."

"We have your luggage ready, Miss Anstrade," said Hume, after handing
her to a seat on the balcony, "and we are ready to go with you to
England."

"And the Golden Rock?"

"That can wait a few more months."

"There may be others in search of it.  No, you must lose no time, for
success will not wait upon your leisure.  Remember," she said, with a
despairing gesture, "how delay marred my plan, leaving me without a
comfort or a friend in the world."

"Are not we your friends?" they said, looking earnestly at her.

"Friends of a day--gone to-morrow--forgotten, and forgetting in a week."

"You may forget," murmured Frank; "but we will never."

She looked at them a moment steadily.

"Women do not forget.  Their lives are confined by convention, narrowed
often by small duties--the memories they have of things outside their
usual limit remain with them always.  I will not forget--ah! would to
Heaven I could rub out the events of the last month!"

"Would you blot us out also?"

"Why not?  I cannot--but if I could, why not?  You are passing away into
fresh scenes and excitements, where your regrets will vanish and your
memories be blurred.  But what is then left for me?"

"You are young, Miss Anstrade, and it is not meant that youth should
suffer."

"When do you sail?"

"We sail with you to-morrow."

"I am not going."

"What!"

"Yes; I will remain here.  There is work in the convent yonder for such
as would forget."

"Good God!" said Webster, staring aghast at the face of the beautiful
girl who so calmly talked of throwing her life away.

"You cannot mean it," said Hume, looking at her steadily.  "No; it is
impossible.  It would be cruel."

"I astonish you, my friends; and yet, if you consider, it is very
reasonable, this step of mine.  I have talked with the gentle sisters,
and found them steeped in a loving patience that knows no fear of the
past and allows no dread of the future.  Yet some of them gave up more
than I do--brothers, sisters, even lovers."

"It is horrible!  And this island, of all places, with a copper heaven
above and an earth of iron below."

"We can't allow it," said Webster gruffly.

"Then take me with you," she said softly, as she bent forward, with a
flush in her cheeks; "take me with you--for you have suffered with me;
men have sacrificed their lives for you as for me.  Ah! take me too; I
could not live alone with these memories."



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

A QUARREL.

So it came that they left behind them the arid rock of Ascension, the
murmur of the sea, and all that it spoke to them of tragedy and defeated
hopes.  They had set out in quest of the Golden Rock, had passed from
under the granite walls of Table Mountain, through the vine-clad valleys
of the Paarl, up on to the melancholy plateau of the Karroo, crossed the
Orange River in the night, sped for a day through the treeless flats of
the Free State, and had arrived at Pretoria--a town of strange
contrasts, where the low-walled house of the old days stood in the
shadow of the lofty modern building, where the slow-moving Boer looked
askance at the restless uitlanders--unwelcome visitors from the crowded
haunts of Europe.

Before them was the Golden Rock--the "fairy spot," already glorified by
a halo of mystery--the goal of their endeavours, whose brightness lured
them on, though they secretly feared it would always elude their grasp;
and behind, like a dream vividly remembered, was a vision of a calm sea,
and brave men rushing to their death.  For them there was no interest in
the people around them; but they were observed and discussed with a
freedom that did not stick at coarseness.

In the veranda of the principal hotel, after dinner, when the men were
smoking over their coffee, and there was no other lady but Miss
Anstrade, drinking in the cool of the evening, the conversation grew
both free and loud, especially at one corner, where a party of three
leant with their backs to a balustrade, and laughed boisterously at each
other's jokes.

"She is an actress," said one; "I can see that, from the way she
manoeuvres her fan."

"You are wrong, for a fiver.  Why, she wears no jewellery!"

"Done with you.  I say, Coetzee, step up and ask who she is."

"Coetzee daren't do it.  Another fiver he does not ask."

"Stuff, man; you should know better than to dare Coetzee after dinner.
Eh, Piet?"

"What is it you say?" asked the third of the noisy group--a tall,
powerfully-built young Dutchman.  "She looked at me a minute ago, and if
it was not an invitation, I'm mistaken in woman."

"And you know them so well, don't you?" said the first man, with a
sneer.

"None better, although the little barmaid did throw him over for five
feet ten of starched collar and eyeglass."

"You laugh, you skeppsels, but you know well I could take the two of
you, one in either hand, and drop you into the street."

"Oh, yes, you are strong, Piet, as one of your own trek oxen; but all
the same, you daren't speak to that lady."

"Soh!  Look, now!"  And Piet, placing his soft hat rakishly on one side,
swaggered down the veranda until he faced the group of three, who were
calmly oblivious to all around.

"Wie ben u, as ik maj vraa?" said Piet, falling back on his native
tongue, as the task revealed unforeseen difficulties under the calm gaze
of a pair of magnificent black eyes.

There was a sound of stifled laughter from the corner; but the three
people looked past Piet, as though he had not been there, and this
disturbed him more than the laughter.  He stood shuffling on his big
feet a moment, then turned and went back, this time without any swagger,
received by an outburst of mocking laughter, which brought a glitter
into the eyes of Hume and a flush to Webster's cheeks, though they both
appeared oblivious.

It was not long before Miss Anstrade retired, and then the two friends,
rising, went up to the other group.

"Are you men drunk?" said Hume bitterly, "that you behave like
blackguards, or is it because you know no better?"

"We are not drunk, sir; but it was a stupid business."

"Yes, we are sorry."

"Speak for yourselves!" shouted Piet, "and let me deal with these
verdomde uitlanders."  He laid his big hand on Hume's shoulder, and the
next instant there was the sound of a heavy blow, and he was stretched
on his back, shaking the veranda, while Hume stood with frowning brows
and clenched fist.

"By Jove! that was a clean blow," said one of Piet's friends, "and he
deserved it."

"Ay, and so do you," said Webster sternly.

The two men flushed, then they helped the Dutchman to his feet, and went
off with him.

"Frank, shake!"

The two friends shook hands.

"The next time it will be my quarrel.  You were too quick for me then."

"You have to be quick," said Frank quietly, "when a man like that is
about to strike or shoot.  Remember that well."

"I did not think you had it in you to strike such a blow.  Do you think
there'll be more trouble?"

"If we remain here there will; but we must get away to-morrow, and place
it beyond the power of anyone to annoy Miss Anstrade."

"Ay, her position is trying.  Don't you think, Frank, we have made a
mistake?"

"We have, by all social rules; but surely there can be no harm in
friendship."

"Hang convention and social rules!  We have just seen the result of them
in the behaviour of these men, who felt themselves at liberty to be
impertinent, because she was not the wife or sister of either of us."

"Even out here in this new land we cannot escape the touch of suspicion,
and she feels it deeply.  Have you noticed?"

"I have marked a change in her manner lately, as though she had just
awakened to the difficulties before her.  Shall we ask her to go back?"

"She is very proud, and if we did so she would be deeply humiliated--"

"Well, Frank?"

"I could not bear to lose her."

"Nor could I."

They remained for some time silent, looking at the starry heavens, when
Hume spoke again.

"We are friends, you and I.  When she is with us day by day in the
lonely veld we may both of us grow to love her, and how, then, will our
friendship bear the strain of rivalry?"

Webster leant forward with a sigh.

"It is best to face the danger," said Hume, in a low voice.

"I love her already, my lad;" and the sailor threw his head up, with a
deep flush in his cheeks.  "How could I help it?"

Hume drew in his breath and turned his head away.

"Is that why you came?" he said, with his face still averted.

"Hume, look at me!  Ah! you love her also?"

Hume bowed his head.

"And has your love already darkened your heart to me?  Lad, you are
wrong.  God knows I would let nothing come between you and me, still
less because of your love for her; but if you are suspicious of me, you
have the remedy."

"And what is that?" asked Hume quickly, suspecting that Webster would
offer to draw out.

"Why, marry her now.  It is your opportunity.  She is distressed, and
would see in marriage a way out of the difficulty."

Hume's brows cleared; he smiled, and stretched forth his hand.

"No, no," he said, "that would be taking a mean advantage of her.  We
know each other's secret, and let us forget, treating her as our dearest
friend, and beloved sister; then when all is done, and she is once more
settled, let each do his best to win her."

"That is fair, Frank; but she is not for me, and I never dreamt she was.
You will let nothing come between us."

"I will try, Jim; but I hope she will leave her fan behind, for the play
of it fires my heart."

"Trust me, I'll burn it.  And she goes with us?"

"Of course; for if she does not, we will never find the Golden Rock,
because then neither you nor I would set out to find it."

The next morning they overhauled their outfit, consisting of a tent
waggon, provisions for two months, span of eighteen oxen, and two Kaffir
boys--one to drive, the other to lead and look after the oxen.

While engaged packing the provisions in the bed of the waggon to make a
level ground for Miss Anstrade's bed, for this was to be her room, Piet
Coetzee, the big Dutchman, with two or three companions, lounged up and
criticised the preparations.

"Pay no attention," whispered Hume; "they want to pick a quarrel, and we
would then be locked up to a certainty."

They went on with their work regardless of the pointed remarks intended
for them, and presently Piet and his friends moved off.

"You'll hear from me again," said Piet, shaking his fist.

"Did you notice the little dark fellow, Webster?"

"No; but I took the measurement of that mountain of flesh, and by this
and that, I'll put a hitch in his jaw-tackle if ever we meet."

"Oh, he's top-heavy--the little fellow is more to be feared.  Do you
remember the Lieutenant at Madeira?--he was among that group."

"What!  Lieutenant Gobo?"

"The same; and I heard this morning that a party of Portuguese had
arrived in Pretoria last week on a political mission.  They are in
favour with the Government here, and if that little beggar has
recognised us, he may play us a trick."

"Well, then, let us get under way."

"All right; you remain here by the waggon while I go for Miss Anstrade."

Before noon the oxen were inspanned, and the waggon moved off.  After a
"scoff" of ten miles they outspanned, and while they were having their
meal under the shade of a canvas awning, or "scherm," stretched from the
top of the tent, two horsemen rode slowly by.

They were Piet Coetzee and Lieutenant Gobo.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

SUSPICIONS.

As the two horsemen passed over a ridge one of the blacks rose from the
fire, stretched himself, and walked off slowly towards the oxen hidden
by a cluster of sugar bushes, whose sweet perfume filled the air.

A little folding-table was placed under the canvas "scherm," tea was
made, and the two men waited for Miss Anstrade to appear from the
waggon, whither she had retired to change her gown for a
travelling-dress.  This dress had been on her mind for several days
past, in fact, ever since they arrived in Cape Town, and she had
suffered extremely because she had not been able to discuss its shape
and design with a qualified critic.  The sail, falling over the back of
the waggon, was drawn aside, a neat boot appeared, then a gaitered leg,
and, with a laugh and a jump, she stood before them challenging their
opinions.

The two men, not knowing, in their stupidity, what was expected of them,
rose stolidly, and made way for her to reach her seat.

"Well," she said, "what do you think of it?"

Hume took a swift look, which embraced short skirts, a neat waist, and
then looked away startled, as though a pair of shapely legs were
something quite new.

Webster had no such qualms of mistaken modesty.

"A very sensible dress," he said, with a broadening smile.

"Sensible, is that all?" and she turned round.

"Yes, sensible and pretty, of course.  It gives you freedom to move, and
will keep your skirts from getting wet when the dew is on the grass."

"Will you take a suggestion?" asked Hume.

"Hum," she said, "I presume you wish me to lengthen the dress?"

"Heaven forbid!  No; but I think it would be well if you placed a band
of leather round the skirt."

"Leather; good gracious, why?"

"To prevent the thorns from ripping the dress into rags.  The
`wacht-en-beetje' thorn will be always calling you to `wait a bit.'
Now, come and preside at our first meal in the veld."

When they were half through, the boy returned to the fire, sat down with
his feet to it, and his hands spread out to keep the heat from his face.

Hume rose and touched him on his shoulder.

"Where have you been?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders, and said in Dutch to his companion:
"What says the Englishman?"

Hitherto, Hume had not spoken in Dutch, and the Kaffirs were off their
guard.

"Get up," he said sternly, and as the boy did not move at once he jerked
him to his feet.

"Yoh!" he exclaimed, with a look of astonishment.

"Now walk;" and Frank pointed to the clump of bushes; and the Kaffir,
understanding from the gesture, sullenly went forward.

"What is it?" asked Webster, coming out of the shelter with Miss
Anstrade.

"I'm about to teach this fellow a lesson, which he needs, as he is
evidently under the impression that we are greenhorns."

The whole party continued, the black suspicious and sullen, Miss
Anstrade and Webster curious, and Hume with his brows knitted.  On
reaching the bush the Kaffir stopped and pointed to the oxen, which were
grazing contentedly.

Hume glanced back to the waggon, took in the direction taken by the two
horsemen, then rounded the bush, and walked straight across to a point
beyond the ridge which intercepted the road.  There he stopped, and
catching the black by his arm, directed his attention to hoof-marks in
the dust, and the spoor of an in-toed native foot.

"What did you say to the baas?" he asked.

The Kaffir put on an innocent look, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Measure his foot, Jim!"

Webster, who now grasped the situation, lifted the boy's foot, which was
small, though broad at the root of the toes, took the measurement, then
passed the string over the spoor on the dust.

"It is his.  What does it mean?"

"It means that he has some understanding with those two men, and that he
left the waggon to meet them here."

He then sent the boy for the oxen with orders to bring them in at once,
and returned with the others to the waggon to prepare for the next trek,
the night trek and the longest, since the oxen worked better than in the
heat of the sun.

The waggon driver, Klaas, was still seated at the fire when they got
back, and looked at them with a smile, which scarcely succeeded in
disguising his anxiety.

"Klaas, get ready to inspan."

"Inspan, baas, and the night is near by!  Better stay here, baas, till
sun up.  Plenty better stay."

"It will be better for you to do what I tell you.  Here come the oxen;
now, look alive!"

Klaas reached out for a coal, cradled it in the palm of his hand, and
then deftly fixed it in the bowl of his long native pipe.  He then rose
and straightened out the trek-tow, the long chain with the eight yokes.

The eighteen oxen were driven up and formed up in a line on the left,
when the loops of the rheims were passed over the wide horns, and the
couples, in their proper order, pulled over to the other side, when they
faced round, each couple to its own yoke.  The pole was then fixed on
over the necks, the throat-straps being passed round from "skei" notch
to "skei" notch.  When all were yoked the oxen were standing on the
right, sideways, and at the word "Hambaka"--trek--the left ox of each
couple had to bear the scraping of the chain as it was pulled over his
back.

Miss Anstrade watched the scene with great interest, being particularly
impressed with the confident way in which the two Kaffirs handled the
big horned oxen.

There is a certain charm about waggon travelling at night, and Miss
Anstrade, seated later on inside upon some soft karosses, felt her
spirits returning.  The place which was to be her bedroom and boudoir
for some weeks was not comfortless by any means.  Its length was about
fifteen feet, the breadth across the canvas roof nearly six feet and the
length from the level of the bedding about four feet six inches.  From
one of the laths there was suspended a lamp; on one side there were
numerous canvas pockets for toilet necessaries, etcetera; and on the
other a battery of three guns was lashed to the rafters.  At the head of
the tent the opening was closed by a heavy canvas flap, buttoned down,
and kept in place at the bottom by the driver's box, and at the end
there was another flap, which could be rolled up at will.

Hume and Webster were seated at the back with their feet dangling.

"What do you think was the object of those men," asked Webster, "in
speaking to our boy?"

"That is what puzzles me.  They may be merely curious about our venture,
especially as our presence here would be inexplicable to Lieutenant
Gobo, who last saw us hot-bound for Brazil, or they may suspect that we
are in search of gold, as prospecting parties are continually setting
out.  Any way, I do not anticipate trouble from them."

"You are mistaken," said Miss Anstrade slowly; "the men of the South do
not forget an insult, and you deeply wounded the vanity of the little
man at Madeira.  You may be sure he has the will to injure you, and if
the opportunity is provided he will do so.  Why not make the servants
confess?"

"At the proper time," said Frank, who, since the journey had commenced,
unconsciously adopted an air of authority.  "At present they have a
contempt for us, and may betray themselves out of carelessness, if, of
course, there is any understanding between them and our friends.  And
how do you like this slow mode of travelling?"

"I like it well; there is a restfulness in the slow swing of the waggon,
and in the stillness of the night, that soothes one.  Will the journey
be like this all the way?"

"Ah, no, we are in the beaten track now, in a quiet country.  The
dangers and the difficulties lie beyond the range of the ordinary
traveller when we enter the wilderness.  Then the loneliness of the
slowly passing days and the brooding silence of the nights, broken only
by the sudden clamour of wild beasts, will try your patience and fill
you with regrets that you should have ventured away from the crowded
cities."

"Sometimes there is pleasure in melancholy, and the wilderness has no
terrors for me, no more than it has for the stricken deer that seek the
deepest solitudes."

She took out her violin and played, while the men smoked, and the two
Kaffirs, letting the oxen keep on in their way undirected, fell behind,
drinking in the music with delight.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

MISSING.

It seemed as though the suspicions about the designs of Groot Piet and
Lieutenant Gobo were groundless, as for two weeks they trekked on
without an obstacle, though Frank found it necessary to check the
growing impertinence of the Kaffirs by knocking Klaas down out of hand
one morning, and by flogging the leader with a doubled rheim--a hint
which brought about the proper degree of respect due by a native to a
white man.  They reached the rolling bush country without further
incident, and found greater objects of interest in the diversity of
animal life.

One evening they drew up on a gentle rise above a river, and found
themselves in the neighbourhood of a Boer trek.  About thirty tent
waggons, gleaming white in the dark, were drawn up in ranks of ten,
their desselbooms all pointing to the north, and the space around
thronged with troops of cattle and herds of goats and sheep.  This was a
party of "Doppers," shifting ground to get away from the vain delights
and irritating chatter of the uitlanders, who had invaded the South in
the wake of the gold miners.  Their austere piety had risen in arms, and
they were now in search of a remote spot where their eyes would not be
offended by the spectacle of ungodly merriment.  Their thin nasal notes
as they chanted an evening hymn cut through the air fraught with a
spirit of hopeless despondency at the wickedness of all things human;
but when the singing was over they allowed their morbid curiosity to
draw them to the solitary waggon where one lovely woman, in outlandish
costume, sat laughing with two of the despised uitlanders.  The men,
with their dark sombre faces, drew near to offer the accustomed
hand-shake, but the women stood aloof, the younger ones giggling under
their linen kapjes, and the elder standing stolidly, their hands folded
in their aprons.

"Who are you, and whence do you come, if I may be bold enough to ask?"
was the first question of the male spokesman; and when Hume had
courteously responded, there was one word spoken, and that was "tabak."
A roll of tobacco was produced, plugs cut off, and shaved against the
balls of big thumbs, all scarred with knife cuts and blackened with
tobacco.  The fragments were solemnly rolled between the broad palms,
the pipes filled, and lit with coals from the fire; and the best flavour
can only be drawn from tobacco by a wood coal.

Then they squatted down on their heels and stared solemnly, making
observations enough to supply them with slow conversations for a week on
the frivolous manners of the strangers.

Hume answered all the questions, and then asked for information himself,
from which he learnt that they had arrived at a good place for a halt,
grass being good and water plentiful, with game in fair numbers a few
miles distant from the road.  They were told of a vlei five miles off,
where some of the large antelopes gathered at sunrise, and getting the
direction from the stars, Frank and Webster determined to walk there
that night, so as to lose no time.

After leaving a note with Klaas, now her humble slave, for Miss
Anstrade, who had retired some time previously to her tent, and after
seeing the oxen tied up to the trek-tow, they set off with their guns,
guided by the stars.  Frank, with his old hunter's instinct fully
revived, walked along through the deepening gloom without a tumble, but
Webster damaged his clothing and his skin by repeatedly running into
thorn-bushes, whose long, white thorns, curved like the talons of an
eagle, laid fast hold of him.

Now and then a startled antelope would bound away, or a porcupine or
ant-bear roll grunting across their track, while the notes of plovers
and ducks flying overhead broke complainingly on the quiet air, and the
far-off barking of dogs at the "Doppers'" camp accentuated the silence.
Before morning they saw the faint, ghostly gleam of water below them,
and lay down to wait for the first break of day, when they rose to take
their bearings, so that they should not miss the route on their return,
a catastrophe very likely to happen even to experienced hunters in the
bush country.  Separating, they each selected a hiding-place by the
water, and before long the cracks of their rifles rang out sharply, Hume
securing a fine sable antelope, while Webster, over-estimating the size
of a buck, which loomed large in the mist, had no luck.  After shifting
ground, and walking for an hour, they each met with success.  Some time
was spent in gralloching the quarry, after which a fire was lit; they
had a bathe, and then roasted a steak of venison on the glowing coals.
Then they covered the bodies with bushes, and picking up their course,
returned to the outspan, which they reached at noon.

They stood at the border of the bush struck with dismay and surprise.
The open space so crowded the night before was now deserted.  A few thin
streaks of smoke rose from a number of white ash-heaps, two or three
ringed crows croaked and gabbled hoarsely from a withered thorn, but
there was no other sign of life.

"Why," said Webster, tilting his broad hat back, "you've made the wrong
port."

Hume walked out into the open, and stood by a heap of ashes.

"This is the spot," he said; "here are the marks of our scherm poles;
and there," pointing to the dent of a small heel, "is her spoor."

"Then, where is she?"

Hume pointed to the broad tracks of the waggon-wheels leading north.

"What the devil! then she has moved away.  Those swabs of niggers have
mutinied and cleared.  And we were fools enough to trust them.  Thank
God, they can't be far."

"No, they can't be far."

"Then come on, man; with a trail like those wheel-marks before us we can
overtake them before dark;" and without more words, Webster strode
rapidly on, soon to disappear into the waggon road, which struck into
the bush beyond.

Hume, however, stood by the dead fire, resting on his gun as though
stupefied, but his keen eyes, ranging over every inch of ground, belied
this.  So far from being dazed, his faculties were fully alert, and
presently he began quartering the ground in widening circles until he
reached the edge of the bush, when he stopped under a spreading mimosa
and keenly examined the ground beneath.  Stooping, he picked up a
half-consumed cigarette, and then went at a trot after Webster, whom he
met returning in a state of white fury.

"You take it very coolly," growled Webster, "lingering like this, when
every minute is precious.  The trail has been blotted out by a thousand
hoof-marks, and there is no more sign than a ship makes on the water.
Why the devil don't you suggest something?"

"Look here," said Hume, holding out the fragment of cigarette.

"This is no time to trifle," said Webster, eyeing the thing impatiently.

"No Boer smokes cigarettes."

"Well?"

"Portuguese do."

"What!  Good heavens!  Has Gobo taken her off?"

Hume ground his teeth.

"I knew it," he said; "I knew when those fellows took the trouble to
speak to our boys on the sly that there was some devilment afoot, but I
thought they had missed their chance of playing some spiteful trick on
us and had gone back.  They must have had us in view all along until the
opportunity offered.  Last night their chance came, and they have gone
off under cover of the `Dopper' trail."

"If they are with the `Doppers' we can easily overtake them."

"No; they would keep ahead of the trek for a mile or so to hide their
spoor, then they would fall behind and make off by some side-path or
through the veld.  Now, you skirt along the left side of the road,
keeping watch for any waggon-track turning aside, while I go along the
right."

They went on rapidly, in complete silence, with bent brows, and a fierce
eagerness at the thought of soon meting out punishment.  The task was
not difficult.  For the greater part the road passed through thickets of
mimosas near enough together to prevent a lumbering waggon from passing;
at other parts there were small banks where the ground had been cut into
by the heavy wheels, and these would at once have shown signs where a
waggon turned off; and, at long intervals only, were stretches of hard,
sun-baked ground, on which the track of wheels could only be faintly
seen.

Mile after mile they went, kicking up the dust, which stained their
clothing red and caked on their hands and faces, until their eyes glared
as if from masks.  Sometimes they would pause to straighten themselves
and to rub their eyes because of the strain upon them, and once Webster
gave a shout; but Hume, after one glance at wheel-tracks a week old,
went swiftly on, and gradually their shadows lengthened out before them
as the sun stood lower and the great heat was tempered by cool breezes.

At last Hume made a sign to Webster, and turned sharply off to the
right, along the track of a solitary waggon, and just at dusk they saw
the gleam of white, amid a cluster of thorns.  Forgetting their
weariness, they started off at a run, which did not slacken until they
came within a hundred yards, when Hume, with a gasp, drew up.

The waggon was theirs truly; but there was an unusual silence about.  No
fire shed its welcome light, the sails were down, the oxen were away,
and there were no signs of life.

Slowly they went up, with a nameless fear at their hearts, to find the
tent empty, and the contents tumbled about and rifled.



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

THE GAIKA.

The two friends stood a moment gazing blankly at the empty waggon; then
Webster clambered in to see if by any chance Miss Anstrade had left a
message, while Hume, in the fading light, hunted slowly around for spoor
of hoof-marks.  Darkness, however, soon closed, and they sat down with
their faces in their hands.

"The infernal scoundrels!" muttered Webster, springing up in a moment;
"the cowardly hounds!  If they had a grudge against us, why could they
not have wreaked their spite on us?  Is it some mad freak, do you think,
of that crack-brained Dutchman?"

Hume was silent.

"Come, Frank," said Webster, stepping up to his friend, "have you no
idea?  I am at a loss in the veld; but you, who have been here before,
should have some confidence."

"I made certain she would be with the waggon," said Hume drearily.

"Let us get a fire alight, and when we have had some food we may hit
upon something."

In a few minutes a bright fire was burning, with a kettle in position.
Food was brought out from the locker, and once more they sat down,
looking silently at the crackling flames.  Gradually the fire burnt away
and they were left in darkness.

"Well," said Webster.

"We have overrun the spoor," said Hume gloomily.

"Why, here stands the waggon!"

"She never came as far as this.  The waggon was brought on here to lead
us astray.  They met the waggon in the road, and have gone off in a
direction opposite to this.  They may have circled round, struck the
road below the old `outspan,' and returned towards Pretoria."

"Good heavens! then they may be fifty miles away?"

"Ay, and we are on foot."

Webster groaned.  "What next?"

"There is one hope.  It is possible the Dutchman has a house somewhere
in these parts, and, if so, we may find her before it is too late."

"Then let us start.  With a lantern it is possible to distinguish
hoof-marks in the dust."

"Come, then," said Hume, after a quick look round.

The lantern was secured, and they strode off rapidly, Hume whistling.

"For God's sake, stop that!" growled Webster.

Hume whistled the louder.

Webster gave one fierce look towards his companion, then strode ahead,
but presently faced round.

"Look here, Hume," he cried, "what is the meaning of this?"

"Go on," said Hume, catching his friend by the arm.  "When I went to get
the lantern I fancied I saw the figure of a man disappear from the far
side of the waggon.  It is probably one of our boys returning for more
loot; light the lantern now, and keep on down the road, making as much
noise as you can, while I lie in wait for him."

"Don't let him escape," said Webster, with great excitement.  "Wouldn't
it be better if we both went after him?"

"No; leave him to me."

Webster went away down the road, swinging his lantern, and making vain
attempts to sing, while Hume crouched down to the ground for some
minutes before beginning his stealthy advance towards the waggon, whose
position he guessed.  When at last he caught the faint gleam of the
white canvas he slowly circled round, and then stopped to listen.  To
his great relief he heard someone at work in the waggon, turning over
the goods, and carefully he crept forward till he reached the
desselboom, where he could hear the exclamations of the man inside as he
groped among the packages.  The echo of Webster's song--which had come
fitfully--ceased, and the man, clicking his tongue, jumped to the
ground, stood listening a moment, then went round to the fire, where he
could be heard blowing at a coal.  Hume slipped round the waggon, saw a
dark figure crouching at the fire, the glow of the coal as he blew on it
throwing out his round head, noiselessly stepped forward, then flung
himself on the Kaffir, burying his face in the pile of ashes.  There was
a smothered cry, a fierce struggle, and Hume dragged the man to the
desselboom and bound him fast with a rheim.

Then he hollowed his hands and sent a shout ringing through the night to
recall Webster, having first satisfied himself that his prisoner was
Klaas the driver.

Webster did not delay his return, and it was not long before he ran up,
guided by the fire, which Hume had restarted.

"Have you got him?"

"Yes; lashed to the waggon."

"Thank God for that!  Let's look at him.  Ah, you black devil, what have
you done with the lady?"

Klaas blinked at the lantern, then sullenly looked away.

Webster drew a sjambok from the side of the waggon, a formidable weapon
made from rhinoceros' hide, and made it whistle through the air.

"Now I'll make you speak.  Where's the lady?"

Klaas looked at the sjambok, and clicked with his tongue in token of
defiance.

"Leave him to me," interposed Hume quietly.  "Of what people are you,"
he asked the native; "a Makatese?"

Klaas gave a click.

"A Fingo?"

"Yoh!" he exclaimed, with a flash from his small black eyes.

"Well, then, of what people?"

"A Gaika of the house of Kreli!"

Frank looked at the man steadily, then suddenly spoke in Kaffir.

"You a Gaika; and you come like a dog of a Fingo in the night to rob
those who have served you well, after playing the part of a jackal to
the men who carried off the lady!"

The Kaffir made a sharp exclamation when he heard Hume speak his own
tongue, gave him a swift, startled look, then hung his head.

"Well, Gaika, what do you say before this baas cuts the marks of
disgrace upon you with the sjambok?"

The Kaffir lifted his head.

"What did the master say about the lady--the Inkosikasi?"

"I said she had been carried away; but why repeat it, when you helped?"

"It is true, baas, I would have taken one of the things from the
waggon--the thing that plays; but I did not know that the lady had been
taken."

"You lie!"

"Yoh!"

"Why did you steal away when we came?  Was it not because your heart was
black?"

"Because the things had been disturbed by that Makatese boy.  Let me
speak.  When the baas went to shoot there came a white man, with
writing, saying we were to inspan and trek, so that the waggon would be
near where the baas was shooting.  We inspanned, and one white man came
along.  He said this was the place to outspan.  In the morning another
white man came with a cart, which drew up over there beyond the thick
bush.  They said the lady would go with them until you came back.  Then
I went off with the oxen to the water, and when I came back the cart was
gone, and the lady and the white men, also the leader, and the things in
the waggon were disturbed.  So my heart was afraid, and I went back to
the oxen."

"Is this story true?"

"Eweh, Inkose, it is true."

Hume took the lantern and went over to the bush, beyond which he found
the tracks of a cart.

Returning, he released the Kaffir, and told him to prepare food for
himself.  He then related to Webster what he had just heard.

Webster was for tying Klaas to the wheel all night, but Hume opposed
this.

They snatched a few hours' needful sleep, and were roused before
daybreak by Klaas, whom they had left seated by the fire.

"Ah!" said Webster, as his eye fell upon the Kaffir, "I confess I
expected he would have slipped off in the night, and his presence here
is hopeful."

"A Gaika, like us, is a stranger in this country.  We have talked to him
in his language, and he will stick to us like a burr.  We must leave the
waggon to its own fate, I suppose?"

"Ay, I could not stay behind.  Nor could you."

"We must trust the Kaffir, then.  Klaas!"

"Baas!"

"Bring the oxen near the waggon, and keep watch while we follow the
cart."



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

FOUND!

They were about to start, when the Kaffir suddenly gave vent to an
exclamation, at the same time inclining his head in a listening
attitude.

"What is it?" asked Webster.

"Hush!" muttered Hume.

The Kaffir slipped away into the bush on the left, and Hume, with a word
to Webster, ran off to the right.

A moment later Webster heard the gallop of a horse, and rushed forward
with his rifle cocked, expecting he knew not what.  Rapidly the
hoof-beats struck sharper through the air, there was a crash of
branches, a cry from the Kaffir, and a white horse cleared a bush and
drew up.  His rider lurched forward, and would have fallen had not
Webster leapt forward in time.  It was a slight boyish form he took in
his arms, but as he was stooping with his burden to the ground he saw
the face.

"Laura--Miss Anstrade!" he cried, trembling as he laid her head on his
knee.

"Have you stopped the horse?" cried Hume, as he darted up.

Webster held up a hand warningly, and Hume went down on his knees, and
the two of them, with white faces, gazed at the insensible figure.

Her short riding-habit was torn to shreds, her hands were scratched and
bleeding, and across her white forehead there was an angry red weal.
Her hat was gone, and the heavy plaits of her black hair had broken
loose from their bindings.

Presently, as they leant over her, half-paralysed by conflicting
emotions of joy, fear, and surprise, she opened her eyes, struggled to
her feet, and sprang to the side of the horse.

"Laura!" they cried.

"Ah, heavens, it is you.  I thought--" She looked round wildly, then
fainted dead away.

"Look at her hands, how they have been torn," and Hume gently pressed
his lips to the fingers he held.

"Some water!" cried Webster.

"Yes, you run for the water;" and Hume passed his arm under the graceful
head.

Webster looked fiercely across at his friend.  "I can support her; you
go for the water."

"Klaas," cried Hume, "water, quick!"

Klaas, who had been standing near, hurried up with a tin of water, which
both young men attempted to take, the result being that the contents
were spilled.

"It appears you wish to quarrel," said Hume.

"No, sir; but it is my right to support her."

"You are the first to break the contract which you yourself suggested,"
said Hume bitterly; then quickly rising, he went to the waggon, to
return with a drop of brandy.  A little water was scattered on the white
brow, and when presently the dark eyes opened again, the cup was held to
her lips.

She rose up slowly, and looked long at them.

"Ah," she said, "you must not leave me again."

"Take my arm to the waggon," said Hume tenderly.

"Let me carry you," whispered Webster as gently.

She looked at her wounded hands and smiled, but when she saw the forlorn
condition of her dress her feminine instincts rose in alarm.  "Gracious
heavens," she murmured, "what a fright!" and vanished into the shelter
of the waggon tent without support from either.

The two friends regarded each other with cold looks, then fell apart
without a word.

"Baas," said Klaas in Kaffir, "here come more horses."

Hume picked up his double express and ran forward into the bush, while
Webster, with gloomy and lowering brow, mounted guard at the waggon.

"Halt!" rang out Hume's voice.

"Verdomde," came a startled reply, "what say you?"

"Drop that gun, drop it."  There was the dull sound of the gun falling.
"Now, come on slowly."

Horse and rider advanced into the open space, and Piet Coetzee sat in
the saddle, casting uneasy glances about him.

"Dismount," said Hume sternly.

Slowly the young giant swung himself to the ground, and stood sullenly
regarding his enemies under his straight brows.

"Take the horse, Klaas, find the baas's gun, and keep watch beyond the
bush."

The Kaffir obeyed with a grin.

"Now, Piet Coetzee," said Hume, with a hard look in his keen blue eyes,
and a tightening of his lips, "if you have anything to say why you
should not be tied to the waggon-wheel and flogged, say it."

Coetzee flushed to his eyes, then folded his arms.  "I am not a black
man, that you should speak of flogging."

"It is a question of crime, and not of colour."

"Beware what you do or say," said Piet threateningly; "if you flog a
Boer you will be a dead man before the sun has risen again."

"Come--have you anything to say?"

"What have I done?"

Hume picked up a rheim, made a running noose, and stepped up to the
young Boer.

"I will kill you first!" hissed Piet, doubling his great fist.

"Be quiet," said Webster; "or I will shoot."

"Oh, yes; you are two to one, and I am unarmed.  Cowards!"

"And you were two to one when you took away the young lady," said Hume,
and he slipped the noose over the broad shoulders and tightened it.

"My God! you will not flog me?"

"I will."

"But it is a dog's punishment.  It will disgrace me for ever.  Shoot
me."

Hume pulled the end of the rheim through the spokes, and pulled on it,
then made a hitch.  The young Boer placed his foot against the rim,
exerted his strength, and snapped the strong hide.

"Now," he shouted furiously, "I will make you shoot," and with a bound
he seized the pole of the scherm and whirled it round his head.

"What is this?" said a fresh voice, and Miss Anstrade, looking her old
self, except for the angry red mark above her forehead, and the wounds
on her white hands, stepped forward.

"This is one of the men who carried you away," said Hume, "and I
threatened to flog him unless he could explain."

"It is not so," said Piet furiously; "you threatened me first and asked
me nothing."

"Put your guns down," said Miss Anstrade.

The two friends obeyed.

She walked quietly up to Piet, and took the pole from his hand.

"You are angry," she said quietly.

"They threatened to flog me--me--a Boer in my own country.  Verdomde,
when my people hear of it they will whip every uitlander in the place."

"Perhaps they will ask your forgiveness; and what has brought you here?"

"I followed you," he said.

"Yes, true, you followed me, and why?"

"Because--because--" He dropped his eyes.

"Because I rode away?"

"Yes, on my horse."

"It was your horse you wanted, then?"

"Yes--no--it was you, and my horse which had run away with you."

She laughed.  "I see, it was the horse that ran away with me; it was the
horse that caused my hands to be torn, it was the horse that came in the
night when my friends were away, and carried me off by force."  The
smile was on her lips still, but there was such a look of scorn from her
eyes that he trembled.

"I do not understand," he said humbly.

"You know that I was taken from my friends at night, and you must
understand, surely, that that was the act of robbers."

"But he said you wished to escape."

"Who?"

"That Portuguese Gobo.  He told me you were of his country, and that
these men were carrying you off into the desert, so that they could
benefit from your death without being detected."

"Is this the truth?"

"I am a Boer," replied the young Dutchman with some dignity, "and I do
not work harm to women.  If the Portuguese has made a fool of me I will
wring his neck."

"He is a bad man.  These are my friends who have helped me in great
danger, and you caused them great suffering in taking me away.  You have
acted like a child; but it is because I see you have been misled I
forgive you."

She held out her hand, which he took in his, while a flush of manly
shame spread over his face.

"Now, my brothers," she said, with a brilliant smile, "all shake hands."

Webster held out his hand frankly, but Hume refused.

"What," she said, "you will not forgive him?"

"No, madam.  If he has been the tool of a man more cunning than himself,
he has been a willing tool.  That mark across your forehead--how did it
come there?"

"From the lash of a rebounding branch, as I galloped through the bush."

"I am very sorry," said Piet.

"Then go," shouted Hume, "and thank this lady that you have not got what
you deserved."

"I will remember you," growled Piet, as he moved off, "and maybe the
sjambok you promised me will fall on your own shoulders."

Hume, with his rifle in his hand, followed the young Boer, and saw him
mount and ride away, leading the other horse.  On reaching a ridge Piet
turned and shook his fist, then suddenly dropping his reins he took a
deliberate aim at Hume.  A full half-minute he kept the deadly weapon at
his shoulder, then, with a laugh, let it drop to the saddle, and
disappeared.  Hume, who had stood the ordeal with a bitter smile on his
mouth, turned back to the camp and met Webster.

"Your friend has gone," he said.

"Yes," said Webster, whose face was deadly pale; "I saw his gun drop,
and thought he had meant to shoot you."

"I was wishing he would fire."

"Frank!" exclaimed Webster.

They looked at each other straight in the eyes, clasped hands, and then
walked back together.

Miss Anstrade went to meet them with a smile on her lips and a question
in her eyes.

"My poor friends," she murmured softly, "you have suffered a lot.  I see
it by your faces."

"And you?" they said.

"I was confident you would find me if I could not escape."

"We were just starting off," said Webster, "after Frank had found the
waggon and learnt from Klaas that you had been taken off in a cart."

"Yes; they managed that very well.  They told me there was a young woman
lying ill at a farmhouse near, and asked me if I would not go, and they
explained that, anticipating my consent, they had brought the waggon to
a spot which would be convenient to you and to them.  I saw no reason
why I should not do a kindness, and after writing a note for you, which
they promised to deliver, I was driven off to a cottage some eight or
nine miles away.  On alighting, I saw for the first time that one of the
two men was a Portuguese, and from his mocking air of courtesy my
suspicions were aroused.  Of course there was no woman in the house, and
on being shown into a room I locked the door.  They left me there all
the morning, but in the afternoon they begged me to come out.  The
Dutchman then went away, and through a small window I saw him mount a
horse and ride away with a number of dogs.  The Portuguese then began to
threaten, and next to batter at the door.  Then he promised me in his
generosity much wealth if I would tell him where you were going, and
whether it was to find a hidden treasure."

"The little yellow brute!" growled Webster.

"How terrified you must have been!"

"On the contrary, I was quite cool, and when the door showed signs of
giving way I opened it and asked him to enter.  He did, with a sudden
change to humility, and as he stepped in with his hat in his hand, I--
well--I am afraid I knocked him down with a heavy stick."

"Bravo!" said Webster, laughing, while Hume flashed a swift look at her
and saw how rigid were the muscles about her mouth.

"I would have escaped then, but on reaching the door I saw there were
some black men seated about a fire.  Returning to the room, I bound the
man up with some ropes that were in the room, and waited.  At night the
Dutchman returned and knocked at the door.  I said it was all right,
whereupon--whereupon he laughed.  After a time he slept, but the black
men sat round the fire till the grey of dawn.  Then I stole out, saddled
one of the horses, and was silently moving off when one of the dogs
barked; the natives shouted, and I was seized with a mortal terror and
fled, and my guardian saint led me to you.  That is all."

The two friends looked at her for some moments in silence, and they
recalled the figure of a girl standing on the bridge in the driving
spume, unmoved by the shrieking of shells overhead.

They then told her how they had passed the time, and when they had
finished, the waggon was inspanned and the journey resumed.  As the oxen
had well rested, they made this time a long "skoff," trekking till
sundown, when the waggon was drawn up under a wild fig-tree, whose vast
branches afforded plenty of shade.  Klaas hunted about for some leaves,
which he brought to Miss Anstrade to place on her hands.  A fire was
built, the violin was brought out, and the men sat dreamily as the music
floated on the soft air.

The next morning Miss Anstrade stepped from the waggon, holding in her
hand a small sporting Martini.

"I wish to learn how to shoot," she said gravely.

"Good!" said Hume.  "It will be as well."

He showed her the action, and made her snap it from the shoulder.  Then
she inserted a cartridge.

"Press the butt tightly to the shoulder, bring the left elbow well down,
and press with your thumb as you pull the trigger."

She fired, and then practised at a mark.



CHAPTER TWENTY.

A MYSTERIOUS CRY.

For the next fortnight they struggled with the difficulties of the road,
and Hume had to call to his aid all his resources in navigating his ship
of the desert over boulder-strewn streams, up almost impracticable
heights, and down dangerous slopes, wherever the road zig-zagged above
yawning precipices.  His bared arms grew black under the sun, and by the
time the Limpopo was reached he resembled in appearance one of the
scattered Boer farmers whom they occasionally surprised in their
journey--a man tanned to the colour of his own well-worn corduroys, with
a face lined by the drying of the skin, the eyes narrowed through the
constant effort to shut out the over-powerful light, and hands bruised,
knotted and grimed.  In this toilsome trek Webster had to squire Miss
Anstrade, and since she dreaded the sight of the oxen straining under
the yoke, and would get away from the sharp crack of the long whip, he
was thrown much into her company as they walked on ahead for the next
outspan.  In the loneliness of the slow marches Hume soured rather, and
in the evening by the fire it was some time before his silent fit would
thaw to the needs of companionship, and the others, having exhausted
every topic during the day's _tete-a-tete_, made little effort to dispel
the gloom.  In the veld there are few topics that can outlast a week,
and then there is little to fall back upon but the eternal subject of
religion, or the ways of nature.  Wherever nature is uninteresting and
the population is scattered, the mind of man fastens like a limpet on
the rock of some verity of the Scriptures, or to the decaying trunk of
superstition, and holds on to the end.  The Boers in the Transvaal have
quarrelled among themselves over their belief, and President Kruger has
taken up his rifle in defence of a verse in the Psalms.  Our friends had
played about on the outskirts of religious controversy about the camp
fire; but the men had been firmly checked by Miss Anstrade, who
possessed a woman's unquestioning faith, and latterly they had become
abstracted and dull, while Klaas, the Gaika, crooned to himself the
legends that hung about the dark kloofs of his own far-distant Amatolas.

"Thank God!" said Hume, as he threw down his whip on the far side of the
great river, "we have at last got out of the Transvaal."

"It seemed to me," said Miss Anstrade, "that we were going on for ever
until the waggon fell to pieces, and we grew too old to see.  I have
never been so dull in all my life, and am convinced there is a growth of
fungus on my brain."

"And I," said Webster, looking at his travel-stained clothes, "feel that
I am turning into a second Rip Van Winkle."

"We are like a party of disreputable gipsies," said Miss Anstrade, with
a look at Hume, whose boots were torn, and whose outward appearance was
scarcely an improvement on the many-patched garments of Klaas.  "Let us
get into a new outfit, and do you men act the barber to each other."

"Before recovering our respectability," said Hume, "we must overhaul the
waggon, grease the axles, repack, mend, and patch up."

They made a stay there, and the next evening, after several hours of
hard work, the camp presented a trim appearance, and the three sat down,
quite smartened up, and in good spirits once again, to dine off wild
ducks and sand grouse.  The map of Old Hume the Hunter was brought out
and studied now on the very ground over which he had passed on his
adventurous journey, and they found themselves, in their growing
excitement, looking away to the south-east, to where the shadowy
outlines of lofty mountains showed dark against the sky.  Somewhere
within that rugged casket lay the treasure that throughout the centuries
had remained for them alone, and the flickering light shining upon their
faces showed the flush in their cheeks as the thoughts of what its
possession would mean flamed in their brains; revealed also the stern
look shot from one man at the other, at the second thought that, bound
up with that treasure of gold, was that other treasure of a beautiful
woman.

"Beyond that mountain," she said dreamily, in her rich voice, "lies
Europe, ambition, power, pleasure, love.  I wonder which of these you
will follow when the mountains have given up their secret."

"Give me a house by the sea," said Webster, "and a wife I love, and who
loves me."

"And the sound of the sea would stir the sailor in you, and one day your
wife would be looking at a white speck in the horizon, and you would be
walking the bridge again."

"And she would not grudge me that if she loved me," he said quietly.

Hume cast a swift look at Webster, whose face had turned white, and he
had reached out his hand, for to both of them there came, at that
moment, the thought of Captain Pardoe and his betrothed.

"What is it?" she asked, noting the action.

Hume looked at Webster, and then told the story of the lovers who had
waited so long.

"But how," she said, in low tones, "did you know each other's thoughts?"

The two looked at each other.

"We also are waiting," said Hume, with a sad smile; but from that moment
the shadow of distrust that was coming between them melted before the
sympathy revealed by that one chance word.

They talked then, as they had often done before, of Captain Pardoe and
the gallant men who went down on the _Swift_, and planned how they would
help the widows and children out of the Golden Rock.  And as they talked
there came through the darkness a startling cry as of a human soul in
agony--so wild, so sudden, that they leant towards each other, and Klaas
bolted under the waggon with a cry of "Amapakati!"--"Wizard!"

Again it was repeated, a long quivering cry.

Hume took his rifle from where it stood against the waggon, and, bidding
Webster stay, slipped into the darkness.  The minutes passed by slowly
to those two, standing with bated breath, listening for any cry or token
that would break the spell.  Ten minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour,
went wearily by, and still there was no sign; then Webster shouted, but
without response, then fired his rifle.

"I must go after him," he said.

"And I will go, too.  We should not have let him face that terrible
darkness alone."

"I will go alone."

"No, no, I cannot stay behind.  Let me get the lantern," she said
feverishly, and quickly unhitched the lantern from its hook under the
canvas "scherm," at the same time picking up her rifle.

"This way," said Webster, and they descended rapidly the slope leading
to the river, from which there came a rippling noise strangely
mysterious in the dark.  The shaft of light swept around from left to
right over rocks and ant-hills, and nodding bushes, and at every dark
object they strained their eyes.  Then there came a sound that chilled
their blood: the noise of a body falling in the water, followed by a
deep groan.

"Frank," she cried; "Frank, where are you?"

The reply was unexpected and startling.

"He is dead," said a voice, hollow and unnatural; "and so will perish
all who try to find his secret."

Miss Anstrade shuddered with horror, and clutched Webster by the arm.

"What is it?" she asked, in a thrilling tone.

With an answering shudder, Webster threw up his gun and fired in the
direction of the voice.  After the brilliant flash, the darkness closed
in blacker than before, and when the echoes of the report had rolled
away in the sullen mutterings down the valley the silence was the
deeper.  They waited long, then went on quickly to the river, where they
stood above the rushes, looking at the gleam upon the dark water, and
listening with pale faces and beating hearts to faint whisperings and
gurgling noises.  Webster put his hand to his mouth and called, but his
voice broke in a hoarse whisper, and he called again.  There was no
answer but the wail of a jackal, and after that the far-off booming of a
lion's roar.

"It is horrible," she whispered, looking round over her shoulder, and
pressing closer.

"Let me take you back."

"No, this way; let us go along the river."

Again there came a splash from the river, and then, within the shaft of
light flashing on the water, there glowed two glittering green specks.

"Look!" she said, with a gasp.

"Hold the lantern," he said quickly.  The rifle rang out, and then the
water was lashed into foam, and a dark body showed for a moment in the
light.

"A crocodile," he said, with a nervous laugh.

"A crocodile!  Can it--oh, merciful heavens--do you remember when we saw
the _Irene_--the shark?"

"Don't," he said, laying his hand on her shoulder.

A deep sigh came to their straining ears, followed by a confused noise.

"Oh," she cried, "if I could only see what forms there are about I would
not be afraid."

"I think that noise is from the oxen," he said.

"Baas," came a warning shout, "pass op de leeuw!"

"That is Klaas--what does he cry?  The leeuw--the lion--is it not?  Ah,
that is better.  Give me the lantern again."

She took the lantern, while Webster, with his rifle ready, kept by her
shoulder, and they slowly advanced, following the shaft of light for the
reflection of the lion's eyes.  Presently an ox moaned, there was a
sound of horns clashing as the oxen bunched together, then the ground
trembled to the roar of a lion, followed by the wild rush and crashing
of branches.  When they reached the waggon there was not an ox
remaining.  The Gaika, who loved his cattle, was raging about with a
lighted brand in one hand and an assegai in the other, hurling insults
at the lion.

"Mij ossa," he said; "mij mooi swaart-bonte; oh! verdomde leeuw!"

"Where is the baas?" asked Webster, at his wits' end.

"The baas is dead," cried the Gaika; "mij ossa es dood, und ek is dood."

Webster took the Kaffir by the arm and shook him.  "Stop this noise and
build up the fire."

Klaas obeyed, piling dead brushwood on the coals till the flames mounted
up, and shone on the white canvas and on the pale faces of Miss Anstrade
and Webster, who stood looking out into the darkness for their missing
friend.  From far there sounded the wild bellow of an ox, followed
presently by the complaining, wailing cry of a jackal and the devilish
laugh of a hyaena.

"The lion eats," muttered the Kaffir.

They longed for the light of day to reveal the dark mystery that hedged
them in, and, above all, the meaning of that voice and its warning.

"Klaas, did you hear someone calling before I fired the first time?"

"Neh, sieur, I heard the lady call, and then the voice of the jackal,
who led the lion here."

"Can we have been mistaken?" she whispered; "and yet I heard it plainly:
`He is dead, and so will perish all who seek his secret.'"

"He cannot be dead," said Webster fiercely; "I will search again."

This time Miss Anstrade remained by the fire, her rifle across her
knees, and her eyes following the Will-o'-the-Wisp-like flashings of the
lantern, while out of the blackness there rang the voice of Webster
calling for his friend, a mournful cry that drew no response but the
murmur of the river, and the still more plaintive call of a plover
overhead.  And sitting by the fire, with the light shining in her eyes,
and her face resting on her hands, she still heard the voice calling out
that Hume was dead, and she was sitting so when, after a long search,
Webster came wearily and hopelessly back.

Before the morning, completely worn out, they dozed at their posts, and
when there was light enough to show the ground the Gaika slipped away
like a shadow towards the river, quartering the ground as he went, with
his body bent, and his thin wide nostrils quivering.  Reaching the
river, he dwelt awhile over the spoor made by Webster, picking up an
empty cartridge, then went up to the right, and presently, with a
startled look, darted forward to where there projected the butt of a
rifle from the rushes.  It was Hume's, and as he lifted it his quick
glances roamed over the ground, noting the bruised grass, and then with
a "Yoh" he jumped back, for a man stood beneath a tree looking at him
with feverish eyes.

"Yinny," said Klaas, fingering his assegai, and stooping his head to get
a clearer view of the figure which was in the shade, then he rushed to
the tree with a cry, "Baas, baas!"

It was indeed Frank Hume, gagged and fast bound to a mimosa-tree.

As the sun streamed over the valley the two sleepers by the dying fire
awakened, and their haggard faces told how real had been the nightmare
of the long night.  The morning mist lay in a thick blanket over the
river, and they shuddered to think what tragedy lay concealed under that
winding-sheet, then started up to the sound of muffled voices, and the
next minute advanced to meet two forms that loomed up vast.

"Halloa!" came a hail in a well-known voice.

"Thank God!" cried Webster, springing forward; but Miss Anstrade stood
with her hand to her heart, looking wildly at this apparition.



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

THE UNKNOWN.

"Thank Heaven you are alive!" cried Miss Anstrade, taking his hand in
both of hers, and looking with tear-dimmed eyes into his face.  "It
seemed I was not free here from the curse that falls on those who are
dear to me."

She drew him to a seat, still holding his hand, and Webster, busily
engaged in making hot coffee, stopped at times to place his hand
affectionately on Frank's shoulder.

"And where have you been all this fearful night?"

"Tied to a tree.  Three times the light from your lantern fell upon me,
and twice a hyaena came and stared at me.  Ugh, the brute!"

"Tied to a tree?  How did it happen, and that voice, did you hear it
calling?"

Frank shuddered slightly.

"I heard it," he said, "and I would have thought it supernatural, so
like my uncle's voice it was, had it been possible for a spirit to knock
me down and bind me."

"Strange," she murmured.  "I also thought it was your uncle calling,
though I had never seen or heard him."

"It struck me to the marrow," said Webster, "and I fired at the sound
out of sheer terror."

They all sat silent for some time pondering over the mystery.

"It is beyond me," said Hume wearily.  "When I left you last night I
expected to find some black, perhaps a woman, from the terror in the
sound of her cry, fallen into the river, or caught by a crocodile, and I
ran down to the bank, making noise enough to inform anyone of my
whereabouts.  On reaching the river I stood still, and without the
slightest warning was felled to the ground.  On recovering consciousness
I found myself bound to a tree and gagged.  It all happened within the
space of ten minutes after leaving the waggon."

"The cry was a decoy, then?"

"It must have been."

"You saw no one?"

"No, nor heard the step of my assailant, though at the time I was
listening intently."

"His feet must have been naked, then?"

"Not necessarily, for he may have worn veldschoens, which give no sound.
I examined the ground with Klaas before coming up, and we could see no
spoor beyond that made by our party."

"What possible object could he have had," mused Webster, "since it was
not your death he sought?  Do you think he mistook you for someone
else?"

"Impossible!  Whoever did it must have watched us, and he could only
have mistaken me for you.  No one has a grudge against you."

"I see it!" cried Miss Anstrade, who had been looking with knitted brows
into the fire.  "Just before dusk we were talking of the Golden Rock.
It was possible for an enemy to creep up undetected and to listen to our
talk."

"Yes," said Hume, and he felt for the pocket-book that contained the
map.

"That is it," she cried; "they have taken your secret."

Frank opened the book with trembling fingers, while the others gazed
anxiously, leaning forward.

"It is gone," he said, starting up.

While they looked at each other, with pale faces, Klaas came up.

"Baas," he said in a low voice.  "Baas," he repeated.

"Well?" said Hume sharply.

"De ossa is gone."

"What!" shouted Hume, glad for some excuse to give vent to the anger and
bitter disappointment that filled him.

"They were stampeded by lions," said Webster.

"Didn't I tell you to have them properly tied?"

"Yoh, my baas!  But the rheims; someone cut them in the night.  Come,
see!"

"Good heavens!  Can this be true?"

They ran to the trek-tow, and there saw that the tough rheims which
secured each ox to the chain had been severed by a sharp instrument.

Hume laughed bitterly.

"Upon my soul," he said, "you must think me a nice leader."

"We can walk," said Miss Anstrade, looking to the distant mountains.

"We could make a raft from the waggon timber, and float down the river,"
said Webster.

"It is not the loss of the oxen I fear.  We will recover enough of them
to continue; it is the ease with which these unknown enemies have
succeeded in their plans that troubles me.  Now that I have lost the map
I believe there does exist a Golden Rock, and their cunning and superior
woodcraft will enable them to win it."

"Nonsense," she said; "they succeeded because we were off our guard.
Now we know what we have to expect, we will oppose our wits to their
cunning."

"It is too late--they have the map--and will have a long start."

"There was nothing in the map," said Webster, "that I could not describe
with a stick on this patch of sand."

"Besides," she said, with spirit, "do you suppose I am going to give up
the search after coming all this way?"

"You are right," replied Hume; "but it does not improve one's spirit to
be fast bound to a tree all night with a handkerchief in your mouth.
Map or no map, we must find the Golden Rock."

"That is better," she said, with a smile.  "Now, then, let us do
something."

Klaas set the example by starting off on the spoor of the oxen, armed
with assegai and kerrie.  Miss Anstrade sat down to draw, from memory, a
facsimile of the lost map; Hume walked on to a small kopje to plan out
the route, for there was no trace of road here; while Webster went down
to the river to see whether he could decipher any explanation of the
night's mystery on its broad and shining surface.  Long he listened to
the murmur and ripple of the shallow river against huge round and jagged
boulders strewn across its bed, and gazed into the dark beds of shade
cast by the wild palmiet, but nowhere was there any trace of human
life--not so much even as a piece of driftwood fashioned by man, or a
broken beer-bottle, sign throughout the world of the passage of roaming
Englishmen.  Overhead passed a flight of cranes, their long legs
trailing behind like rudders to steer them in their heavy flight, and
from their long bills emitting, at intervals, the harsh cry with
Nature's melancholy note, while flocks of "sprews," the white-bellied
African starlings, flew, with noisy clatter, from side to side, and grey
monkeys, their black faces rimmed in white, grimaced from waving
branches.  As he went down the bank, in and out among the thick bushes
and clinging thorns, he started a troop of wild buffalo, which crashed
off with many an angry snort, and a minute later was brought to a sudden
stand by a moaning sound of no great volume, but conveying an undoubted
warning.  It proceeded from a cluster of rushes, and he moved his head
from side to side in an endeavour to see what caused it, succeeding
presently in detecting a slight movement made apparently by a small
creature like a rat.  Smiling at his doubts, he stepped forward, when
once again the moaning was repeated, and he stooped down to peer more
narrowly into the thicket.  Then he saw that the small object was the
tuft of a tail, and following the direction, he made the indistinct
outline of a large animal crouching flat, and then, with a start, he met
the full, fierce gaze of the yellow eyes.  Cautiously he stepped back
foot by foot until he reached the shelter of a tree, when the rushes
shook, and out sprung a full-grown lion, which, after one look at him,
trotted off after the buffalo which he had evidently been stalking.

"Phew!" said Webster, his heart thumping, "I suppose Frank would have
shot the beggar, but hang me if I wasn't pleased to see him cut."

He waited for some time till his heart beat more regularly, then
advanced with greater caution, examining each cluster of rushes and dark
patch of bushes very carefully before passing.  Half a mile further on
the river took a bend and swept against a rampart of huge rocks flanked
by a krantz, the home of a pair of white-headed eagles, whose harsh
screams wakened weird echoes.  Attracted to the wild spot, Webster
stepped on one of the rocks, which jutted into the swirling water, to
examine the krantz, and, noticing that caverns had been worn into the
base by the water, he sprang from rock to rock till his way was barred
by a smooth wall of slaty rock, which rose considerably above his head.
Slinging his rifle over his back, he made use of his seamanship and
quickly scaled the slope, slipped down on the other side, manoeuvred a
narrow ledge, and stood in the first of a row of caves.  There was
nothing in this but a half-eaten fish, left evidently, from the signs,
by an otter, but on rounding a slippery corner he entered a roomier
cave.  To his intense surprise, he saw that it had been occupied, and
that recently.  The walls and roof were blackened with smoke; on the
smooth floor was a pile of ash, with the burnt ends of driftwood around,
and on a ledge at the back was a mass of dried grass which had evidently
served as a couch.  He disturbed this with his gun, and dislodged a skin
bag made of the entire skin of a monkey, the neck serving as an opening.
Stepping to the mouth of the cave, he emptied its contents.  These
consisted of a copper cylinder, such as Kaffirs use to keep their
"passes" clean, a necklet of crocodile teeth, a bracelet of solid ivory,
stained with tobacco, and a lump of quartz, rounded at the edges from
much friction.  There was nothing in the cylinder, and Webster after a
curious inspection of the quartz, which was heavy as lead almost,
replaced the articles, and returned the bag to the ledge.  He entered
two other caves without finding anything fresh, and returned to the
waggon, where he reported his discovery.

"You saw nothing to indicate whether the occupant was a European?" asked
Hume.

"No; and I took it for granted he must be a black."

"Natives don't, as a rule, lead solitary lives, and still less could one
of them dwell in loneliness by the side of a river, though the place may
be the secret retreat of a witch-doctor."

"Perhaps," suggested Miss Anstrade, "the unknown visitor of last night
and this hermit may be one and the same."

"Well," said Hume, "it is worth looking into; but in the absence of
Klaas it would not be wise to leave the waggon."

"I'll run down and get the bag," said Webster; "for there is nothing
else in the cave from which you could draw conclusions."

He started off, and in half an hour returned with the bag.

"This is Kaffir work, certainly," said Hume; "but," putting it to his
nose, "it has not the native flavour, strong and pungent.  This string
of teeth threaded on a gut is native, and so is this bracelet.  Humph!
Quartz.  What a weight!"  He opened his knife and scraped the surface.
"Why, look here; it is half gold."

A streak of shining yellow showed on one side, between two white veins
of crystal.

"It's as rich as that piece which my uncle broke from the Golden Rock.
I wonder where he found it?"

"There's something more in the bag," said Miss Anstrade.

"It's the empty cylinder," said Webster.

She slipped her hand in, drew out the little tube and opened it, at the
same time uttering a cry of surprise.

"Look here!" she said, drawing out a roll of paper.

"I swear," said Webster, with excitement, "it was empty when I found it,
for I placed my finger in."

She flattened the paper out, and looked at them with eyes wide-opened,
and a flush on her cheek.

There, in her hand, lay the missing copy of the map!

Each in turn took it, turned it over and over with a blank look.

"Well, I'm hanged," muttered Webster, under his breath.  "That fellow
must have placed that paper in the tube after I left the cave, and
probably watched me the whole time, yet I never caught a glimpse of
him."

"He is some half-witted native," said Hume, after a long pause.

"You forget the cry, after your disappearance.  That was the voice of a
white man who knew you or your uncle, and had learnt the object of our
journey."

"True, I had forgotten that.  Still, one of my uncle's men, escaping
from the attack made upon his camp, may have taken up his home in the
cave, and have lost his mind in the solitude.  Such a man might have
learnt about the Golden Rock, and he would have picked up a few words of
English."

They now heard the lowing of oxen, and presently Klaas appeared with the
runaways.  Hume quickly counted fifteen.

"Well, Klaas, did you search far?"

The Gaika stretched his naked arm out and swept it round.  "They stood
all about, some in one place, some in others, but I whistled to them,
and they were joyful to see a man.  Three I could not find, but the body
of one."

"You have done well, Klaas.  What are these things?" and Hume handed
over the bag and contents.

"Yoh!  Kaffir man made these, but a white man uses them."

"A white man?"

"Yah, sieur, it is so.  It smell white man."

The three looked at each other with uplifted eyebrows, while Klaas
turned the necklet over in his hand.

"That settles it," said Hume.  "Let us search for the stranger.  But, as
he may be on the look-out, I will make a circuit to the top of the
krantz, while you go towards the base, and leave the bag on some rock
that can be seen from above."

This was done.  Webster placed the bag on a rock well out in the river,
and then retired towards the camp, while Hume watched behind an aloe.
For an hour he waited without seeing aught, then descended to the
bottom, and himself examined the cave, without, however, finding any
fresh evidence.  He then returned to the camp.

"It is no use," he said; "we should be wasting valuable time in
searching for this mysterious being.  If he had some design in taking
that map we should be serving his purpose by lingering here.  Inspan,
Klaas."

The oxen were yoked, and the waggon moved on slowly, Hume going ahead to
mark out the road, and Webster, taking the "trek-tow," or looped rheim
to guide the leaders.

Before dusk they outspanned on a grassy knoll, and set to work at once
with axes to build a fence round.  The oxen were driven to the water,
allowed to graze a short time, then driven into the enclosure and tied
up.  Fuel was stacked up in preparation for fires, supper was made and
eaten, and then they sat talking about the man of the krantz until the
clamorous howling of jackals warned them to be on watch.  Miss Anstrade
retired to the waggon, the sail was drawn down and two huge fires lit,
one on either side of the oxen.  Hume crept under, the waggon, and was
soon in a deep sleep, while Webster and Klaas, on either side the
waggon, kept watch.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

A STARTLING VISIT.

To Webster there was nothing unfamiliar in the lonely watches of the
night, and the first long silent stretch recalled to him many a fleeting
memory of hours spent upon the bridge amid the dark waters, when the
mystery of night would close down upon the ship, bringing with it all
manner of fancies and haunting superstitions.  There was here, in this
unpeopled land, the same brooding stillness, the same murmur in the air;
and the deep darkness, too, was instinct and alive with the same sense
of things unreal.  It seemed as though, beyond the flickering circle of
ruddy light cast by the crackling fires, there were forms peering in,
under cover of the shadows which concealed them, at those within the
light, and now and again he would strain his eyes and finger the rifle
that rested across his knees.

The minutes slipped by quietly, with an occasional sigh from a contented
ox; then the long, wailing cry of a jackal rose and fell, to be
followed, as though it were a signal, by the deep, hollow growl of a
lion.  The oxen stirred uneasily, and Klaas came softly up with his red
blanket wrapped about him.

"Seen anything, Klaas?"

"Nix, sieur; but I hear de leeuw."

"Will he jump the fence?"

"Ek dink so.  The wind blows across, and he will come from that side."

"We will hear him when he springs?"

"Neh, baas, he will come over where it is dark, and lie still against
the ground, so that we could walk up to him without seeing, though he
sees us."

Webster picked up a bull's-eye lantern, pushed back the slide, and shot
a vivid fan-like shaft into the gloom.

"Come, then, you hold this, and I will shoot."

They piled fresh wood on the fires, then mounted to the waggon-box, and
tried the range of the light over the oxen.  At the radiance they turned
their heads, and their large eyes shone reflected.  Webster pushed back
the slide, and they sat waiting--the one with his finger on the trigger
of his Express, and the other with the lantern, which sent up a steaming
vapour into his face, and a faint reflection shining upon his gleaming
eyes.

Presently, just beyond the fence on the right, there broke out a booming
roar that made the air vibrate, and brought the oxen to their feet.  It
died away in a hollow growl, and was repeated again and again from
different quarters.  The oxen bunched together, and Miss Anstrade
knocked against the tent, while Hume called out from his lair beneath
the waggon.

"It's all right," said Webster, "the fires are burning, and we are
prepared."

Hume crept out, and finding that the back of the waggon was unprotected,
he hung a lantern there, and then went back to his couch, with the
muzzle of his rifle pointing into the light thus thrown.

Klaas called out to his oxen by name to soothe them, and at the sound of
his voice the two great red-and-white wheelers laid down with a grunt.

For a time there was a spell of stillness, more disquieting than the
terrific chorus that had awakened far-off echoes from every roving troop
of jackals.

"De leeuw talk now," whispered Klaas.

"Talk--what about?"

"They tell what they do.  The young ones wait over there and shout; the
old man creep round on this side, say nothing, and jump over."

"And you think they are settling that plan now?"

"Yoh, sieur; they make plan, bymby begin work.  See, there!"

A second burst of roaring made the ground tremble, and the movement and
the vibration in the air seemed to communicate more quickly the terror
in the sound.  It swelled and fell, and rose again, and at each pause
the after-growl came in more threatening and ferocious.

"There, baas," said the Gaika, in a thrilling whisper, dropping his long
hand in a fierce grasp on Webster's arm.

"What?" asked Webster, raising his rifle, and looking eagerly to the
left.

"He jumped just now.  Is the baas ready?"

"Yes."

The slide was opened, and the brilliant light, released, shot out into
the darkness beyond the fires, and, under the steady hand of the Gaika,
swept along the fence, throwing out the white scars on the broken
branches.  It crept back again, and the two men, with eager eyes and
every nerve alert, followed the beam for sign of the fierce visitor.
Three times the light swept over the ground, and Webster levelled his
rifle; but just then the lamp was held still and the Kaffir made a
slight noise, while his breathing became quicker.

Webster followed the light in vain.

"What is it?" he whispered.

"Skit, baas, skit!" said the Kaffir.

"I can see nothing."

"There, there, sieur!" pointing with his assegai.

Suddenly out of the path of the light, near the ground, and apparently
detached from any object, glared two balls of yellow fire, and at the
same time came a low growl.

Guided now by these two luminous orbs, Webster saw a faint outline on
the yellow ground.

The Kaffir clicked with his tongue impatiently.

Webster sighted between the eyes and fired.

Upon the report there followed a savage roar, and the next moment the
waggon shook to the thud of some great body hurled against it.

There was a shriek from the waggon, then a muffled report.

"What is it?" shouted Hume, as he crept out from under the waggon.  He
caught the lantern and rushed round, just as Webster had slipped another
cartridge into his rifle.  The uproar was terrific.  The oxen bellowed
as they strained at their rheims, the lions beyond the fence roared, and
from beside the waggon there rose a series of blood-curdling growls and
coughs.  Both guns flashed out together and the assailant laid stretched
out.  It was a huge yellow-maned lion, still gasping.  The Kaffir drove
his assegai into the heaving body, and then both Hume and Webster rushed
to the waggon.

"Are you all right?" they cried.

She drew the canvas flap on one side and looked out, with her hair
falling forward in heavy coils.

"What was it?" she asked.

"A wounded lion sprang upon the waggon tent."

"Is anyone hurt?"

"No; but the lion is dead."

"I thought something dreadful had happened, and fired as much from
terror as anything."

Hume rolled the great body over and examined it.

"Your bullet went home, at any rate, Miss Laura, and you have killed
your first lion."

"Let me see."  She drew her wraps about her, and was about to descend,
when, with a shudder and a nervous laugh, she crept back, dismayed by
the darkness.

The three men now walked round the enclosure, fired a couple of chance
shots, restarted the fires, and returned to their posts.  The uproar had
subsided, and was succeeded by another spell of oppressive silence,
broken at lessening intervals by a vague sound, which grew in volume,
but not in distinctness, and before which the other sounds did not
revive.  As it grew louder it took on a rhythmical beat not unpleasant.

"It sounds like a human voice," said Webster.

"Yes, it is a black man chanting, eh, Klaas?"

"Eweh, inkose, he sings as he walks;" and so speaking, the Kaffir
stretched himself by the fire and drew his blanket over his head.

"He evidently fears no danger," remarked Webster.

"I don't know," said Hume, and stirred the Gaika; "what manner of man
can this be who walks abroad in the night, making sign of his presence
to the lions?"

"It is the wizard," replied the Gaika solemnly, "and it is not well to
look on him.  Even the beasts quit his path;" and once again he pulled
the blanket over his head.

The man approached rapidly, and now the deep chest notes rolling forth
in a rough melody took shape from the mighty volume of sound, and now he
was at the fence; and now, with a cry of "Layate," he leaped the
thorns--a wonderful bound--and still chanting, he came up to the waggon,
paused a moment at the body of the lion, then stepped to the fire, and
stood there with the glow upon his tall form and in his smouldering
eyes.  A black man he was, of gigantic mould, with a tiger skin knotted
by the fore-paws round his neck, and with a mass of bone necklets that
clattered at every movement.  On his forehead was a large ball of hair,
behind which rose two eagle's feathers, and he carried a bundle of
sticks and assegais, while from his shoulder hung a large skin bag.

"Who are you, and what is your business?" asked Hume, after looking
intently at the stranger.

The man shook his head, and his wild, roving eyes, shifting uneasily
like those of an animal, glanced from object to object, dwelling at last
upon the rolled-up figure of Klaas.  Him, presently, he prodded with the
butt of an assegai, and grinned till his white teeth gleamed.

"Stand up, Klaas," said Hume sternly, and the Gaika, with a sullen look,
rose, and gradually raised his eyes from the feet to the dreaded face.
Then, like two fierce and strange dogs meeting, they stood fronting each
other--the one with a commanding look, the other with lowering frown and
quivering nostrils.

The stranger spoke, but the Gaika shook his head in turn.

"What does he say?" asked Hume.

"He speaks strangely, sieur."

"Is he a witch-doctor?"

"He is not of my people, nor of the Zulus, and his toes turn out."

"I wonder if this is our hermit?" said Webster.

"Ay, the same thought occurred to me; and the man who could leap over
that fence as he did could have no difficulty in knocking me down."

While they were talking the stranger looked at them furtively.

Hume cut a piece off a twist of Boer tobacco, and handed it to the man,
who took it with a gleam of satisfaction, cut a fragment off with his
assegai and put it into his mouth.  The Gaika stalked away and crept
under the waggon, the stranger stopping his jaws to watch him, until he
heard the sigh of a man who lies down to sleep, when he appeared more at
ease.  Presently he squatted by the fire, spreading his hands before
him, and, in a guttural voice, said, "Brandy."

"His vocabulary may be limited," said Webster dryly; "but it is useful,"
and he went to the waggon-box for the stone demijohn in which they
carried the Dop brandy.

Hume had his eye on the man and saw him shift an assegai to his right
hand, whereupon he pulled back the hammer of his rifle with a click that
drew a swift, furtive glance upon him.

The brandy was poured out and drunk with a resounding smack, and in
jubilation he shouted out, after the Kaffir fashion, a few words of
praise, and at the noise the oxen stirred.

"Yoh!" came a sharp exclamation.

"Is that you, Klaas?"

"The bush, sieur--the bush; it moves!"

"What the devil--Look after that fellow, Jim, while I see into this,"
and Hume bolted round the waggon.

"Well, Klaas?"

The Gaika was not there, but Hume heard him talking to the oxen, and ran
forward.

"What is it?"

"Men come in to cut rheims again, and take away the bush fence."

"Where are they?" said Hume, throwing up his rifle.

"They run when they see me.  That man by the fire no good.  So I went by
the waggon and watch--bymby, when he drink and cry out one word, he
shout in Zulu, _baleka_ (quick).  So I leave the waggon."

"Hold that fellow!" shouted Hume, but there came a stifled cry from
Webster, and when he got round the man had gone, and Jim was rubbing his
eyes.

"Hang the swab," he said; "he threw a handful of dust in my eyes when I
attempted to seize him, and bounded away.  What new devilment's afoot?"

"That fellow was in league with someone, and another attempt has been
made to stampede the oxen.  They beat us at every turn."

"You are very noisy out there," said a voice from the waggon.

"We have been entertaining a guest, and he has just left us," said Hume,
with a wry face.

"A guest in this place, and at such an hour!  You should have given me
an opportunity of sharing the pleasure."

"We did not wish to disturb you."

A close inspection was made of the fence, and three large branches,
which had been removed, were replaced.  Then the three men, each taking
up a different post, kept watch again until the dawn.



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

A DUEL.

They agreed to keep back from Laura the alarming incident of the night,
and when she stepped out in the morning, full of curiosity, they made
light of their strange visitor, and drew her attention instead to the
huge body of the old lion.  But though they would give her no cause for
fresh anxiety, their minds were troubled and their glances continually
roaming over the country for sign of the danger they were sure was
preparing for them.

"It is not right," said Hume, "that we should expose her to these
terrors and risks."

"True, my lad; and there is a look in her eyes already which I do not
like."

"What are you talking about so gloomily?" she asked.

"The fact is," said Frank gravely, "we have made a mistake in bringing
you into this wilderness, and we think we should take you back to
Pretoria, or, at any rate, to some farm where you could stay safely
while we returned from the search."

"Then something did occur last night," she said, looking from one to the
other.

"The lion occurred," said Webster, with the ghost of a smile.

"There is nothing very terrible in a dead lion.  You are keeping back
something from me."

"We are just entering upon the most dangerous part of our journey, and
the risks we have encountered are nothing compared to those we must
expect, but they have been bad enough to alarm us on your account.  We
feel that we cannot expose you to the dangers and strain of constant
alarms."

"You should know by this time," she said slowly, "that I am prepared to
encounter danger, and we have already discussed and faced this very
matter when we reckoned up the difficulties and hardships of the
enterprise.  I am resolved to continue unless my presence tires you."

"Heaven forbid!" they muttered.

"Then be satisfied," she said, with a sad smile; "you are relieved of
the responsibility which you think due to me because I am a woman, for
if I knew death were awaiting me over there among those grim mountains I
would not draw back."

They shuddered.

"Come," she said, "I have put into words what was in your thoughts.
Tell me now what happened last night, and let me judge whether the
danger be the greater."

So they told her.

"Now, see, if you had not told me I should have magnified horrors out of
the unknown; but now the incident sinks into the plot of a cunning
native to steal our oxen.  These people can have no designs on your
lives."

They sat down to their little camp table, and then for an hour
afterwards they cut bundles of long grass for their oxen that night, as
Hume was determined to make long treks until they reached the vlei or
lake.

The oxen were then inspanned, and they started, Hume going on ahead,
Miss Anstrade sitting in the back of the waggon with her little rifle,
while Webster handled the long whip, and Klaas led the oxen.  They
passed along a ridge, whose wooded slopes sank to the river, disturbing
many troops of big game as the waggon creaked and rumbled slowly on
between huge ant-hills, and in and out among aloes standing like
sentinels.  At noon they reached the lip of the plateau, and below them
stretched a wide plain, where gleamed a large sheet of water, with
moving troops of game around.  Here they outspanned for the mid-day
rest, and with the map before them traced the route taken by Old Hume,
away to the right, across the river, through a wide belt of reeds, which
shone in the sun like a white streak, then up the far-distant range of
rugged mountains.

"I feel within me the glow of the explorer who sees the mists veiling
the bed of a mighty and unknown river," said Miss Anstrade, as she
looked with kindling eyes over the low-lying country.  "But the way
seems so easy that a horrible doubt arises.  Surely someone must have
been before us."

"What do you think, Webster?"

"It seems to me to be plain sailing; but no doubt a nearer view would
open up reefs and difficulties."

"Yes, difficulties enough.  Now, see that belt of reeds looking like a
ribbon for thickness: it must be three miles in width and saturated with
water.  It will need a struggle to get through.  Then there is the
mountain to climb, and a particular spot in it to find, and beyond that
the dangers from those who are said to protect the Rock; but before we
enter upon any of those tasks we have to reach that sheet of water,
which must be some twenty miles off, and there we may be forced to
abandon our waggon."

"Why should we?--the country looks quiet enough."

"Well, our party is too small to divide, and in anything we attempt we
must keep together.  As for the country being quiet, I can see smoke
rising from three different kraals, and depend upon it, as soon as the
people see us they will swarm round, ready to beg, steal, or fight."

The day was sultry, with a hot steam rising from the marshy lowlands,
and they soon sought the welcome shade of the baobab, whose
wide-spreading branches sent down roots to the ground.  The ground
beneath, in a wide circle, had been trampled bare of grass by buffalo
and wild beast, which had here resorted to rub their tough hides against
the rough stems; there were the remains, too, of old fires, and on the
parent trunk, high up, where the bark was smooth, the handiwork of some
roving white man, who had deeply scored his initials.

"It is quite a fresh scar," said Webster, noticing the marks.

"By Jove, yes! and made within the day; for, see, here are parts of the
old bark on the ground.  What is it?  D.H.--the initials of my uncle."

"Baas," said Klaas warningly; "here come men."

They started round, snatched up their rifles, and looked about to see a
small body of natives hesitating whether to advance or not.

"Advance," said Hume in Zulu.

The leading man at once stepped forward, the others following, and in a
few moments six stalwart natives, armed with assegais and shields, were
looking curiously at the small party of whites.

"Greeting, inkose," said the leader in deep tones, looking out of the
corner of his eye at Miss Anstrade.

"To you also," said Hume quietly.

The men stood silent for a full minute; but their quick glances took in
every detail, coming back always to the slender form of the white lady.

"I come from the great chief, Gungunhama, the strong one," said the
leader, "and demand a present from the stranger."

"Demand?" said Hume.

"Oh, ay, the country is his, the game in it, and the people.  Inkose
must pay, or take the path he has travelled."

"You have flown fast if you come from Gungunhama, for his kraal is six
suns away."

"My chief is not one who sends a word to each white man who enters his
country.  He moves himself only when he wishes to strike, and his word
is spoken to little people through his Indunas."

"So," said Hume, swallowing his wrath, "I have a present for the chief;
but I must know that the man I give it to is the one authorised to
receive."

"You are few, and one of you is a woman," said the Zulu, coolly taking a
pinch of snuff.  "So I brought only these men.  If your present is large
I can bring a regiment, that of Incornati, to-night, and my young men
are quick to anger."

This was a veiled threat that checked Hume, who had been disposed to
carry matters with a high hand.

"Sit!" he said, "and eat.  Klaas, give these men meat."

Klaas did as he was ordered, and the Zulus eyed him disdainfully at
first, then subjected him to a running fire of stinging criticism.
Presently he answered back, and one of the younger men struck at his
shins with a kerrie.

The Gaika's blood was up, and flinging the venison down in the ashes, he
ran for his sticks, while the young Zulu, with a jeering laugh, rose to
his feet.

"Drop those sticks, Klaas," shouted Hume angrily.

Klaas hesitated, then sullenly replaced his kerries and turned away,
whereat the Zulus laughed again.

"It is not fitting that we should serve ourselves," said the Induna;
"let this servant wait on us."

Hume called to the Gaika to attend to the guests, but he clicked his
tongue and would not move.

"Come," said Miss Anstrade gently; "do as you are told, Klaas."

Thereupon Klaas moved slowly to the fire, placed the kettle on to boil,
and made coffee, while all the time a running fire of chaff was turned
on him.

"It seems they want to provoke him," muttered Webster, with an
unfriendly glance at the arrogant natives.

"Yes," said Hume, "and it is contrary to their custom, for Zulus are
aristocrats."

When the visitors had fed, Hume brought out from the waggon a roll of
coloured print, a railway rug, and a few knives, which he laid on the
ground.

The Induna regarded them contemptuously, and, after a long argument,
Hume added a couple of blankets and a roll of brass wire to the
articles.  At a shout from the Induna, four other men appeared, gathered
up the presents, and departed.  Then the Induna demanded something for
himself, and receiving a quarter of what he asked, presently rose,
whereupon the young Zulu, a tall and powerful savage, deliberately
emptied the steaming contents of his pannikin over Klaas' bare feet.
With a bound Klaas reached his sticks, and this time Hume did not
interfere.

"You will not let them fight," implored Miss Anstrade.

"Yes," said Hume; "Klaas comes of a tribe who have no equals in the use
of sticks, and he will teach this young brute a lesson.  Now," he
continued, turning to the Induna, "you wish these men to fight.  Let
them; but if one of you raises a hand to help I will shoot him."

The Induna smiled contemptuously.

"A Zulu is better than three slaves and sons of slaves.  My man will
beat him; but you must not help either.  Let them battle in the open,
and we will stand here."

Miss Anstrade cast one shuddering look at the two men; then, suddenly
running forward, she dipped her handkerchief in the water, bade Klaas
lift his foot, and made a bandage round the inflamed ankle.  Then she
climbed into the waggon and stopped her ears to the fierce sound of the
strife.

Klaas threw his head back and shouted the Gaika war-cry, then rolled a
blanket about his left arm, and moved forward with his long iron-wood
kerrie outstretched.  He was an older man than the Zulu, shorter, and
thinner, and his much-patched clothes made his movements appear awkward
when compared with the agile grace of the almost naked Zulu, whose
smooth skin shone like satin.  In his left hand the Zulu held a long
shield, while he twirled in his left hand a short but heavily-knobbed
kerrie.

"They are not fairly matched," growled Webster; "and that fellow has a
further advantage in his shield and heavy stick."

"The Gaika does not think so.  Look at his face."

The small eyes of the Kaffir glistened like those of an animal, and he
followed every movement of the Zulu, who was going through a performance
by which he meant to strike his opponent with terror at his prowess.  He
leaped into the air, bounded from side to side, danced on his toes,
twisted, turned, struck at the ground--all the time accompanying these
antics with shouts and deep grunts.

"Enough," said the Gaika; "these are for children.  Stand still and
fight."

The Zulu paused, astonished, then, with his shield before him, he
advanced, crouching to the attack, and springing suddenly into the air
struck swiftly a blow that would have settled the fate of Klaas had he
not been prepared, but springing lightly to one side, he rapped his
enemy across his broad back.

The Zulu bounded forward out of reach, turned, and again advanced
impetuously, his glaring eyeballs showing above the feathered tuft at
the end of his shield.

This time Klaas did not wait, but swinging his five feet of tough
kerrie, he delivered, in rapid succession, three sweeping blows, one at
the head, the next at the body, and the last at the bare toes, and then
sprang back to keep the proper distance for a telling blow.  The Zulu
rushed in again, to be again beaten back by blows delivered with
lightning rapidity, one of which drew the blood from his forehead; then
he sprang from side to side, advanced, retreated, and feinted, until his
movements were almost too rapid to follow, and at last bounded forward
with stick uplifted.

"By Jove!" muttered Webster, "he will kill him."

The Gaika had his kerrie trailing from his side, and as the Zulu bounded
through the air he made a sweeping blow upwards, which, falling full on
the Zulu's elbow, made him drop his stick.  As it fell, Klaas knocked it
away with a backhanded blow, and sprang between it and his foe.

There was a fierce cry from the Induna, a triumphant shout from the two
white men, and the tall Zulu, standing with his arm at his side, looked
with bloodshot eyes and curling lips at the despised Kaffir.  A minute
he stood panting heavily, then his hand stole behind his shield, and he
drew forth a short-hafted, long-bladed stabbing assegai.

"Stop!" thundered Hume.

"It is a fight," said the Induna, sullenly fingering his assegai.

"All right, my baas," said Klaas, and, with his left arm across his
body, he shook his stick.

The Zulu threw forward his shield at full length, and walked forward
warily, determined to get in one stab, his right arm held back out of
reach of that whirling stick.

"It is murder," said Webster hoarsely.

Twice the long blade darted out like the tongue of a snake, and the
second time it pierced the Gaika's thigh; but the Gaika was not idle,
and the air whistled to his rushing blows, and the drumming on the hard
shield was continuous.  Still the Zulu pressed relentlessly, though the
blood trickled over his face, and his shoulders showed the marks of
angry blows.  At last he gave his war-cry, "Zu-tu," and throwing his
shield above his head, made one fierce thrust.  The blade was caught,
however, in the folds of the blanket, and the kerrie came with a
sounding crack across the unprotected shins, bringing the Zulu to the
ground.  Klaas picked up the assegai, and threw his hand back to stab,
but Hume, expecting this, reached his side and seized his wrist.  Then
the prostrate Zulu bounded to his feet, and ran to his friends for
another assegai.

"Enough!" cried Hume sternly.  "Go!"

In five minutes the little party were left alone, the Induna and his
followers having moved off without a word.

"Are you hurt, Klaas?" said Hume, while Webster shook the Kaffir by his
bruised and bleeding hand.

"Neh, baas; the Zulu is no good with kerrie.  Will baas give me supje
brandy?"

The baas gave him two, which Klaas drank with a smack of his lips, then
with his eyes still glowing, he swelled out his chest and sang his song
of victory.

An hour afterwards, when his wounds had been looked to, the order was
given to inspan.

The oxen were grazing near the waggon when the Zulus appeared; but now
they were missing.  A few minutes' search showed them far down the
plain, being driven away, while the sun shone on the spears of a large
number of blacks seated in a circle behind them.

Hume brought out the glass and examined the group.

"There is the Induna," he said, shutting the glass and turning with a
set face to Webster and Miss Anstrade.

"Well," said Webster, "of course he is there; but you have paid him, and
he will send the oxen back."

"No, they mean trouble.  They came here prepared to kill Klaas, and they
have stolen our oxen so that they can attack us at their leisure.  What
do you say, Klaas?"

"Yah, sieur.  They think Kaffir too quick, and they want to kill him
first, then kill masters after.  Chief tell his people now that we hurt
one of his men.  That is enough."

"It is pretext enough," said Hume bitterly; "and I should not have
allowed the fight."

"We have four guns," said Webster, "and plenty of ammunition and
provisions if they attack us."

"And if they don't," said Miss Anstrade quietly, "we must leave the
waggon and walk."

"We have first to think of defence," said Hume gloomily, eyeing the
waggon and the great tree.  "We shall want time to talk over our plans
and get together the articles we want.  They may attack to-night."  He
paced off the width of the tree, then did the same to the waggon.  "That
is it, we must draw the waggon up parallel with the trunk, leaving a
space of twelve feet between, then build a turf wall with an outer fence
of thorns."

This was done.  After strenuous efforts the heavy waggon was drawn up,
and with pick, shovel, and axe they set to work in feverish haste.

"They are moving," said Miss Anstrade, who was keeping watch, "and
coming this way."



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

THE ATTACK.

"They are coming this way," said Miss Anstrade.

"Open fire at them," said Hume, "when they come within range," and he
stooped his back to widen the trench around the little camp.

Webster drove in his pick, and looked sidelong at Laura, who stood with
her rifle in her hand, staring blankly at Hume.

"I may hit them," she said falteringly.

"So much the better," was the grim response.

The sod wall rose higher against the outside wheels of the waggon, and
the Gaika had already lopped off a large number of branches from the
mimosa-trees, together with some stunted wacht-en-beetje bushes.

"We must close up the ends with bags and boxes.  Let us have them out."

"I can see the colour of their shields now, and some of the men are
springing into the air."

"They mean to attack, then," said Hume, pausing a moment to glance down
the hill.  "Put up the five hundred yards' sight."

"Hark, I hear them shouting."

Klaas heard, too, and as he swung the axe, he answered with a
deep-chested war-cry.

A moment later there was a dull report, and a bullet whistled overhead.

"By Jove, they have rifles, and there can be no mistake about their
intention.  Shoot, Laura."

The little rifle came to the shoulder, and her white cheek was pressed
to the butt, but the barrel shook, and she lowered it.  She looked round
at the two men, and seeing the look of anxiety on their faces as they
hurried on with their work, she threw the rifle up again and pressed the
trigger.

A deep, booming shout replied.

"I hope I have not hit anyone," she said anxiously.

Webster laughed; but Klaas, in his excitement at the first shot, bounded
forward, swinging his axe and hurling insults at the foe.

"Come back, you fool!" shouted Hume hoarsely.

The Gaika danced back on his toes, and at his curious antics Miss
Anstrade laughed; but at the sight of the passion in his face the laugh
ended hysterically.

"Come behind the boxes, Laura," cried Webster.

"I would rather stand here until you are ready," she said proudly, while
with trembling fingers she extracted the empty cartridge and inserted
another.  The sharp crack of her rifle rang out again, and then she
began to fire rapidly.

At last the barricade was finished, and the little laager was complete,
flanked on one side by the huge tree, on the left by the waggon and bank
of turf, at the ends by boxes and bags.

"Now for the outer fence," said Hume; and climbing over the boxes they
began quickly to draw the thorn branches, with the stems in.  This outer
fence left a clear space of about fifteen feet.

"Pass up, sieur," cried Klaas, as Hume walked out to cut down another
tree; "there are men creeping round."

"Get my gun!"

Klaas sprang for the heavy weapon; and Hume stood on an ant-hill to take
a look at the foe.  They appeared halting about three hundred yards off,
with their shields before them, and their waving plumes nodding above,
while their assegai blades threw off the sunlight in sparks.

"They have not moved," said Miss Anstrade, "since I fired."

But Klaas knew differently, and his keen eyes had seen a few men glide
into the long grass, to show themselves momentarily at lessening
intervals, and when he judged they were too near to be pleasant he cried
out:

"There, baas! there, my good baas, by the round bush!" indicating a spot
about one hundred yards away.

As Hume raised his Express a bullet struck the ant-hill beneath him,
while a cloud of smoke drifted away from a rock to the right of the
bush.  At this there was a shout from the main body, and the enemy
dashed forward.

The Express covered the bush, and as the leaves shook it cracked, then,
swinging his gun round, he covered one of the advancing troop and fired
again.

"Hit!" said Webster.

"To the laager!" shouted Hume; and the little party clambered into the
enclosure.

"Lie down, Laura, there, under the waggon."

"Will they get in?" she asked.

Hume fired twice.

"Too high, Jim; aim at their feet.  No, they won't come within sixty
yards;" and he fired again.

The shouts of the Zulus rose hoarse and terrible, mingled with shrill
whistling.  On they rushed, right up to the outer barricade, and then,
as they were brought up, and the terrible Express bullets tore through
them, they hurled their throwing assegais, then scattered and fled for
shelter.  Some of the assegais entered the little fort and were embedded
in the earth, their hafts quivering; others glanced along the branches,
and many stuck into the waggon.

"That was a warm rush," said Webster; "and if it had not been for the
mercy of that fence we would have been speared to a certainty."

Hume was passing a cleaner through the barrels of his Express, and
looking over the box barricade at the enemy, or, rather, for a sign of
them, for they had apparently sunk into the earth.  He did not reply,
but turned presently and looked at Miss Anstrade.

"Well?" she questioned.

"If they make another rush, having now warmed to it, two rifles will not
keep them back, and then--"

"Yes."

"There can only be one end," he looked at her with sad eyes, and then
added, "for us."

"And for me?" she asked.

He turned away.

She came from under the waggon.

"I understand," she said firmly; "and if they come again there will be
three rifles."

No sooner had she stood up, than an assegai, hurled from the rear,
whizzed by her head and plunged into the tree.  Before they could turn,
Klaas with one bound sprang over the barricade, and, throwing his hand
back, launched an assegai at a small bush beyond the fence, then quickly
darted another; and, as the second spear rattled through the leaves, a
tall Zulu sprang up.  Springing over the bushes he leapt towards the
fence, and, with one terrific bound cleared its bristling height, the
tufted armlets and long feathers streaming behind, and as he reached the
ground he thundered his war-cry.  Before this magnificent rush the Gaika
held his ground, his body stooping, the slender assegai quivering in his
fingers as he poised it, and, as the Zulu struck the ground the weapon
sped from his hand.  Swift it flew, and straight, so that it seemed
there could be no escape from its thirsting blade; but the Zulu's shield
met it, and with a sure turn of the wrist, sent it whirring harmlessly
through the thorns.

Then the Gaika, weaponless, tore the shirt from his body, baring his
naked breast, and stood with folded arms.  The Zulu caught the Kaffir by
his arm, and, towering up a full head taller, glared down into his eyes,
and raised his stabbing assegai.

At the sight, the three spectators in the little fort stood horrified,
while from behind numerous ant-hills there rose up men to watch the
scene.

"Klaas," said a quiet, authoritative voice, "fall down, and I will
shoot."

At the voice the Zulu fixed his fierce and bloodshot eyes upon the
group, dwelt for a moment on the white face of the lady, then rested
with a questioning look.

"Eh, Hu-em," he cried, then drew the point of his spear across the
muscular breast of the Kaffir, leaving a lone red line.  His hand
relaxed, and Klaas, turning, was inside the laager in a moment, where he
picked up another assegai.

The Zulu stood between the fence and the barricade, calmly looking at
the white men, and presenting, as he stood there, the very picture of
war, with courage expressed in the poise of his head, command in the
fearless glance of his eye, character and will in the clear sweep of his
clean-cut jaws, strength in the broad shoulders, and activity in the
straight limbs, all bone and muscle.

"Do not shoot him," answered Miss Anstrade.

"Shoot him!  Good heavens, no!  Is it Sirayo?"

"Yebo!"

Hume sprang over the boxes, and ran with outstretched hands to the great
warrior, who had led the last charge at the battle of Ulundi, and had
distinguished himself in a hundred desperate fights.

"Why are you fighting against us, Sirayo, my friend?"

"I was told you were bad people.  So I came here to kill or die.  What
matters it?  Sirayo is no longer a chief, his assegai is at anyone's
command."

"Come in, my friend.  We are not bad; these people have three times
tried to steal our cattle, now they would take our lives.  We are but
four, and one is a woman."

"Tell me the story," said the Zulu, "and I will listen."

Hume told him all that had occurred, and when he had finished Sirayo
turned once more, dragged a thorn-bush away, and stepping through,
advanced into the open.

Hume stood anxiously waiting, and Webster, coming to his side, asked if
he should shoot.

"Wait; I know this man well.  There is no treachery in him, and he may
prove our friend."  Still he waited breathlessly.

Sirayo stopped when he was near the enemy, and then, striking his
assegai against his shield, he told them they had lied.

"You brought me against these people with false stories; I find they are
my friends, and my shield is their shield, my assegai is their assegai.
But, inasmuch as you came here thinking you had the help of Sirayo, I
stand here to meet any of you hand to hand, lest you say I fled from you
when there was danger."

No one took up the challenge, which was received with a howl of rage,
but presently man called to man until the news was carried to the
Induna, who directed the attack from afar, and at his command there was
a general movement towards that end of the laager where Sirayo stood.

At this the chief, not carrying defiance to the point of foolishness,
returned into the camp, closing up the fence after him, and entered the
laager.  There was no time for talk, for the enemy appeared to be
gathering for another rush, and fire was opened to check them, but when
they altered their minds and drew off, Hume asked the chief the
paramount question, whether the laager was strong enough to resist a
determined attack.

Sirayo stretched his arms.

"You are in a hole; good if you can keep them out, but a death-trap if
they enter, and when the night comes they will pull away the thorns.
See this tree?  I already had marked it, and meant in the dark to send
six young men.  They would have climbed secretly into its branches and
dropped among you.  No; if you would live you must steal away."

"They will be on the watch."

"No.  They know you cannot attack them, and before the dawn, after they
have drawn away the thorns, they will come.  By that time you must be
away."

Hume interpreted, and it was resolved to take the chief's advice.  It
was necessary, however, to get together as many necessaries as they
could carry, and while Hume busied himself with this work, the others
went out beyond the laager, for, as Sirayo advised, it was better to
show they were not afraid.  They paced round and round, longing, yet
fearing, for the night to come, and frequently the glances of Miss
Anstrade and Webster stole to the tall figure of the chief, half
doubtful still of his intentions, while the Gaika regarded him sullenly
in the light of an interloper.

Presently the two natives stood silently regarding some object on the
plain, and, attracted by their attention, Miss Anstrade asked what it
was they saw.

"White men," said Klaas.

"White men!  Oh, then, we need not fly from our waggon, our home."

Klaas shook his head.

"Bad men, they."

"How can you tell, when they are so far that I cannot even see them?"

"They bad men," said Klaas, shaking his head, with the Kaffir's
reluctance or incapacity to explain the reasons that led up to his firm
opinion.

White men they certainly were, and presently they were met by a native.
Were they friends or not?  Anxiously they were watched as the men
leisurely approached, and when they were close enough to be distinctly
seen even by the untrained eyes of the Europeans, Miss Anstrade waved
her handkerchief.

"Pass op," shouted Klaas, "he will skit," and at the cry four men sprang
before Laura, while a tiny puff of smoke rolled up above the strangers,
and a bullet whizzed unpleasantly near.  That was the reply to the
salute!

Hume, who had come out at the news of the strangers, flung up his rifle
and fired, but the heavy Express carried wide at a long range.

"They are preparing," said Sirayo quietly, and took a pinch of snuff,
while as he held the powder to his nostrils he pointed with his assegai
to where the gleam of shields showed thick among the bushes.

Hume took from Miss Anstrade her light and beautifully finished rifle.
Then, throwing a handful of dust into the air to get the direction of
the wind, he put up the 500 yards sight.

"If I can pick that brute off I may stop the rush," and he nodded at one
of the two whites who stood upon an ant-hill.

"Three hundred yards, I think," said Webster, measuring the distance
with his eye.

"No; the clear air takes off from the distance.  Now, Klaas, see where
the bullet strikes.  I will shoot better beyond the fence;" and pulling
away a thorn, he walked out to an ant-hill.

"They come," cried Miss Anstrade, as the nodding plumes of the Zulus
moved forward.

Hume knelt down, and resting the barrel on the conical top of the
ant-mound, aimed long--so long, that Webster felt tempted to rush out
and pull him in.  At last came the crack.

"Missed, by heavens!" shouted Webster, and he emptied his two barrels at
the dark mass which was now moving on the left in a direction parallel
to the camp.

"Baas shoot too strong," cried Klaas, and Hume put up 450 yards, and
inserted another cartridge.

"Come in, man, come in; they are running."

Sirayo moved out of the fence with the Express, after motioning Miss
Anstrade to the laager.

Hume aimed again--longer than before--and the beat of the bare feet over
the grass rose louder and louder, like the rush of a river in flood.  At
last!

"Oh, ay," shouted Klaas, "he is dead," and the man on the ant-hill,
throwing up his arms, fell forward.

Then Hume, rising, took the Express from Sirayo, and, whipping round,
dropped a warrior to each barrel, and, Webster firing rapidly too,
caused a check, most of the men dropping to the grass to advance with
more safety.  But a dozen warriors, tempted by the chance of catching
Hume outside the fence, leapt on, swallowing the ground with enormous
strides, and twisting whenever the deadly rifle covered one of them.  On
they came in silence, their shields before them, and the short assegais
that won victory for the Zulus held in readiness, and now the gleam of
their eyes could be seen, and now a low moan breaks from their lips as
they feel their prey.

Webster gradually slipped nearer to the fence with Klaas at his side,
and as the Zulus came together in the last rush, the four barrels were
emptied and the revolvers drawn.

Now Sirayo's terrible war-cry was raised as he suddenly bounded forward;
in a few strides the lean Gaika was by his side with his sheaf of
assegais.  There was a shock of shield striking shield, and the foremost
Zulu fell with a groan, while, in the same breath almost, the tough
shield of the chief met the thrust of the next man, and his red blade
plunged deep beneath the arm.  "Eh, Zu-tu!" he shouted, springing back
from another blow, while his third assailant ate the assegai of the
Gaika.  Then came the sharp crack-crack of heavy navy revolvers, and the
five surviving Zulus turned and ran.

Then they retired into the laager, having taught the enemy a terrible
lesson, and then the chief offered snuff with his red hand to the Gaika,
who took this pledge of friendship.

"You are a great warrior," said Hume to Sirayo, "and you, Klaas, have
fought like a lion."

"It is nought," said the Zulu.  "I have killed ten men of the
Nkobomokase in a feud when first I got my ring as a married man, and
they were warriors every one--not men of the swamps like these, who are
feeble.  But it is well.  They will not attack again to-night, and when
the jackal calls we may go safely."



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

THE ESCAPE.

When the night swiftly settled down, a ring of fires sprang up about the
little camp, and the warriors seated round chanted their battle songs
with many a burst of merriment.  But in the camp thus hemmed in there
was silence--the silence of despair.  Though they had beaten their foes
off the victory would not lay with them, as they had to abandon their
waggon, the home of many happy days; their possessions, which became
more valuable with each day's move from civilisation; and had to face
the hardships and dangers of progress through savage country on foot,
themselves their own porters.

"Is there no hope of holding out?" asked Webster.

Hume glanced significantly at Miss Anstrade, who, with head averted, was
listening, with evident nervousness, to the ominous chants of the Zulus.

"We must escape," he muttered.

"At least, let us scuttle the ship before we leave her, lay a train to
the powder-room, and blow her up."

"And so tell them that we have left the camp.  No; I'm afraid we must
leave everything standing.  I have made four large bundles, and we can
take away enough to last."

Blankets and rugs, rolled up and tied at their ends, were slung like
horse-collars over their shoulders and across their breasts, rifles were
picked up, bundles tied on with the ox rheims; and so prepared they
waited the return of Sirayo, who had gone off scouting into the night.
And as they waited their first regret at leaving gave place to a nervous
anxiety to be off, for the darkness brought to them a thorough sense of
the insecurity of their position.  A rustle in the leaves of the huge
tree rising above them like a dome made them look up apprehensively,
lest some daring savage was already in lurking amid the branches, and
when at last Klaas signalled the approach of Sirayo, they stepped
forward eagerly to meet him.

"Is the way open, chief?" whispered Hume.

"They watch like jackals when the lion has killed," he said gloomily.
"The order has gone round."

"What! do they fear we will attempt to escape?"

"They know.  Their white chief has told them."

"Could we not get through while they are singing?" asked Hume, looking
moodily into the darkness.

"Those who sing are not those who watch; they are nearer, and will close
in until they are a fence right round."

Hume turned despondently to explain, and all tightened their grasp on
their weapons, and listened for any sign of this living and deadly ring,
narrowing its coil for the final crush.

"Baas, I have a plan," said the Gaika suddenly.

"What is it?"

"Which way would the baas go?"

"Towards the river," said Hume impatiently.

"My plan is this.  I will creep out on the other side and cry out that
you have escaped there.  The men will then run up and you may then
quickly move for the river."

"It is a good plan," growled Sirayo.  "I also will go, and when we meet
those in the way we will fight and at the sound all will rush up."

"And you would be killed," said Hume, after weighing it over, "and they
would follow on after us.  No, no, if we cannot escape together we will
fight here and die together."

"Let it be so," said Sirayo, squatting by the fire and proceeding to
eat.

The others looked at him for some time, then Miss Anstrade, with a
sudden start, laid her hand on Hume's shoulder.

"I have it," she said breathlessly.  "Those rockets; you remember you
bought some at Pretoria in case we wished to signal from the camp to any
lagger.  Let us fire them off, and perchance these strange fiery stars
will terrify the natives."

"By Jove!" exclaimed Hume, "there's something in that," and he dived
into the waggon to emerge presently with a bundle of fireworks.

"You'll get the full effect in this darkness," remarked Webster dryly,
"and the blacks should be greatly pleased."

"The idea may seem to you childish," said Hume, fixing a couple of
rockets, "but try and imagine your sensations if for the first time you
saw a rocket streaming into the night."

The experiment was tried.  Into the darkness rushed the rockets,
exploded high up, and sent down a shower of coloured sparks, which,
slowly fading as they sank, left a blacker darkness than before.

From the two Kaffirs in the camp there rung exclamations of surprise,
and Sirayo strove hard to conceal his astonishment; but from beyond
there was no response, either in fear or admiration.

"Fire the next just close to the ground," suggested Webster; and they
gathered behind Hume, peering into the dark, their faces coming and
going out of the shadow as the light from the match fell on them.  There
was a flash, a long stream of light darted out, hissing, and as the
light swiftly flashed, they say a row of shields, the glint of assegais:
then there was a yell, as the warriors, who had been arrested in their
stealthy advance by the mysterious fire, now broke and fled.

"They run!" said Sirayo loudly; "they say it is witchcraft, that you
talk with the stars.  Come!"

Quickly they slipped out, Hume remaining a moment to fix two other
rockets with slow fuses, and then, after closing up the opening in the
fence, he overtook the others.  With Sirayo ahead, Webster and Hume on
either side of Laura, and Klaas behind, they felt their way cautiously
over the rough ground, and, as they went, there streamed out towards the
sky the other two rockets.  A deep murmur arose from the awestruck
natives, who would, no doubt, remain fixedly gazing towards the camp for
more portents; and the little party, taking advantage of their
opportunity, pushed on rapidly till they reached the long slope
stretching down to the thick bush on the banks of the river.  Now they
could advance with less caution and more speed, and their spirits rose
as the hope of safety increased, for they had not time yet to realise
this disaster that had overwhelmed them.  At last the outlying mimosas
of the thick woods arrested their progress, and, for the first time,
they halted to readjust their burdens.

"Which way does your path lie?" asked Sirayo.

"Down the river, and then up into the mountains."

"Yoh!" exclaimed the chief, astonished, "the safe path is back on the
way you came, and into the white man's country."

"We undertook this journey for a purpose, and it is not now we will turn
back.  You will come with us?"

"When Sirayo sets forth on a journey, he knows beforehand whither he
goes and why.  You are not hunting, and your lives are dearer to you
than the sight of the mountain."

"We have heard a tale of a yellow rock that lies beyond the mountain,
and we would see whether the tale is true."

"Soh!  I have heard that tale from the people we have left.  They have
talked much about it, and of a strange man who knows of it.  Many, they
say, have set out to find that rock, but never one came back."

"Then it is there?" said Hume.

"Oh, ay; yet if it has not been found it may not exist.  A tale grows
easily out of nothing, and lives long on the tongues of old men.  This
rock has been polished by the gossips till it shines like a flame, but
the man who set the tale going may have seen only the sun striking on a
girl's armlet."

"Well, we will search for it, and with your aid."

The chief took a pinch of snuff, as could be judged from the loud sniff.
"We must cover up the spoor.  Let your friend come with me so that we
may lay a new spoor away from this, and do you keep on the river."

This was done.  Webster remained with Sirayo, while the others went on
slowly and with many pauses till they heard the river flowing, when they
waited for the dawn, wrapping themselves up in their blankets to keep
off the night chill.  At dawn they continued their flight for several
miles along the bank of the river until they reached a place where the
bed narrowed between granite banks, where a halt was cried and they
waited for the other two, who came up close on noon, having smothered
the trail and laid a false track up stream.  Preparations were made to
cross, for it was feared the Zulus might lay dogs upon the spoor, and
Webster, in a marvellously short time, made a small raft out of
driftwood.  It was large enough to hold Laura, the rifles and goods, and
the men, stripped to the waist, swam at the sides, splashing vigorously
to frighten the crocodiles.  Without accident they reached the further
shore, landing amid a confused mass of boulders, over which they
struggled to the shelter of the woods.  As before, Webster and the chief
remained behind, this time to watch if the enemy discovered their
crossing, while the others pushed on wearily down wide game tracks into
a patch of forest trees, where they rested, at last, under a wild
fig-tree, whose light-coloured branches stretched wide and high.  Here,
with the driest of wood, a fire was made, and carefully nursed so that
it should not give forth thick smoke; a tin hold-all was produced from
one of the bundles, the kettle set to boil, the blankets spread on the
branches, and a small leafy shelter made for Laura.  This work occupied
them until they were joined by the others, who reported that they had
heard only the distant shouts of the Zulus, but had seen no one.

"They are content," said Sirayo; "they have got what they wanted--your
waggon, your oxen, your goods, and if they have lost a few men there are
less to share the spoil."

"But the white men who were with them will not give up the pursuit so
readily."

"Oh, ay; the white man's hate, like his bullet, reaches far, and strikes
when you are out of sight and have forgotten, but those were not of your
race; they are yellow men from the coast, and maybe they, too, are in
search of the flaming stone."

"Portuguese!"

"I know not, but they chatter much, make much trouble with the women,
and show their teeth when they are angry; moreover, they are idle and of
little stature."

"They are certainly Portuguese," said Hume, with a sly glance at Laura,
as he interpreted.

"You may depend," she said, "that Lieutenant Gobo is still following us,
though surely he must have some other motive than that of revenge.  His
persistence would be out of all proportion to the injury he has
received.  And you remember the offer he made to me if I disclosed the
object of our mission."



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

ON THE MARCH.

They had passed their first night in safety, disturbed only at intervals
by the snorting of buffalo, and in the morning they were seated round
the fire, eating rather unpalatable "cookies" of meal baked under the
coals, and drinking black coffee, steaming hot, from tin pannikins, Hume
having made a good selection of stores.

Suddenly Webster planted his tin in the soft ground, threw his head
back, and laughed long and hearty.

"Well?" questioned Laura, parting her lips in a smile.

"Excuse me," said Webster helplessly; "but, upon my word, of all
going-a-fishing, this is the funniest," and he laughed again.

"I don't see the joke," growled Hume, as he looked through the steam of
his coffee.

"Exactly; that's what makes it so absurd.  Lord, just think of it; we've
been to great expense and enormous trouble, and have taken a year or a
month--I don't know for the life of me which--to get here, and now here
we are adrift with about two weeks' provisions."

"I see no fun in that."

"Man, it's brimful of fun, if you only look at it in a proper light,"
and carefully lifting up his tin, he began to sip his coffee, the light
of laughter still gleaming pleasantly in his eyes.

"The most dreadful part, to my mind," said Laura, "is the ease with
which we adapt ourselves to the most sudden changes.  Look at my hands;
how coarse they are!"

It was now Hume's turn to laugh.  "That is an extraordinary ground for
complaint," he said, "when you have so many greater grievances at hand."

"What greater grievance can a woman have than that of diminishing
charms?  I believe my face is freckling.  Give me that tin plate.  Thank
you."

She took the plate from Webster, polished the bottom of it, and then
calmly studied her reflection.

"I am sorry I did not think of a looking-glass," said Hume, "but I must
confess I was not in a state to pick and choose carefully."

"You did well," said Webster heartily; "though it was a pity you forgot
my razor, both for me and yourself.  By-the-way, why did you burden
yourself with that small crowbar?"

Hume looked a little confused.  "Well," he said, after a pause, "I
thought that if we did find this--this infernal rock--the crowbar would
be of use."

"Of course," replied Webster gravely; "of course.  Let me see, what
would be the value of fifty pounds of raw gold?"

"Close on 3,000 pounds."

"Is that all.  Lord love you! and has it not struck you that we could
never get away with fifty pounds weight of dead metal about each of us?
So that if there is a ton of gold it would not be worth to us more than
the little we could carry away."

They looked at each other blankly.

"We could hide a great quantity away, to be recovered on another
journey."

"Gentlemen, may I remind you of Mrs Glass's advice to catch your hare
before you cook him?"

"Now we've lost our bearings again," said Webster, "and just, too, when
we'd almost put into port and got the precious cargo on board, though by
the same token the breadth of our backs is the only space at the
disposal of our supercargo."

"By Jove, you are right! we have lost our bearings," growled Hume.  "If
you'll believe me, I never thought of retrieving the gold, a work of
uncommon difficulty, since we cannot possibly coax the metal from its
matrix and will have to load ourselves with a worthless weight of
quartz.  If the rock is as rich as the specimen implies, we would have
to carry away half of quartz, giving twenty-five pounds of gold to each,
or only 1,500 pounds.  Now, is it worth while advancing for such a
little?"

"Nonsense," said Miss Anstrade, with a frown.

"I am merely looking at the matter from a common-sense point, and Jim
has just considered the humorous side.  We both apparently come into the
same `blind alley,' and see the absurdity of running against a stone
wall.  We have lost everything, we have narrowly escaped with our lives,
and now, even if, when not properly equipped for continuing the
enterprise, we do succeed, the reward sinks to insignificant
proportions--insignificant, that is, compared to the boundless wealth we
originally contemplated."

"Nonsense," she repeated; "you originally had the very slightest faith
in the existence of this rock, and the value of the reward is not the
consideration you would prize.  We have risked all and braved all to
find it.  Let us find it, and the pride of discovery after so many
dangers and disappointments will be our reward.  You mean to continue
the search?"

"Of course," said Hume.

"How about a canoe?" said Webster, getting up, and jobbing his hunting
knife into the fig-tree.

"We don't want a canoe, for the distance to the belt of reeds must be
about nineteen miles, and we can walk that before you would finish your
vessel.  Afterwards we will ask you to build us a raft, which I think
would be better, as there are many rocks in the channel."

"A raft," she said, with a smile; "then what would there be to prevent
your making two or three trips to load your raft with as much of the
metal as you like?"

"Good," said Hume, laughing; "but, as you observed, we must first catch
our hare, and he appears to be vanishing while we talk.  Opstan--Klaas--
we march."

In half an hour they struck out of the forest into the glare of the sun,
slightly tempered by the feathery mimosa, whose little fluffy buds of
yellow bloom scented the heavy air.  From the river banks there rose in
thick masses the lustrous green foliage of the wild palmiet, rising from
out of a ring of golden yellow, where the old leaves drooping had faded,
and above the river, defining its winding course, rested a slight
vapour, while beyond was the wide plain of rolling grass out of which
had come their enemies.

They stood long with fixed gaze bent upon the wide expanse for sign, but
could see nothing but herds of game, with a fine group on the opposite
bank of gemsbok, whose long horns, when the game looked up, rested
lightly on the striped haunches.  Flocks of blue starlings, their wings
glittering with a metallic lustre, flew across the river, and the birds
alighted on the bucks to hunt for parasites.

"I can see no one," said Hume, "but, nevertheless, we must proceed with
caution, and before we advance into this blaze we must take the glint
off our weapons.  A gleaming spark, even from the point of an assegai,
would be seen when the sharpest eyes could not detect us."

"It is well," said Sirayo, when the necessity was explained; "but of
what use to dim your weapons when you have white about your clothes?"

Hume and Webster wore only shirts of grey flannel, the sleeves turned up
to the elbows, leaving bare the brawny arms, bronzed almost to the
colour of old oak, but their wide-brimmed hats were of a light blue, and
Miss Anstrade wore a white puggaree.

"Have you some red clay, Klaas?"

The Gaika produced a small lump which he had himself used that morning
to paint his face, and Hume deliberately stained all those articles of
clothing which showed white.

"Why do you smear that red over your face, Klaas?"

"Make the skin soft, missy."

"Oh, vanity of vanities, and I have seen you men smile when I have used
a powder-puff.  Does it really make the skin soft?"

"Oh, yes, the sun does not burn through the red clay; all mooi Kaffir
girls put on red clay when the sun is hot."

"That decides it; give me the clay!"

"Surely--" expostulated Hume.

"Give it to me; now Klaas, come."

With an imbecile grin, Klaas followed the lady to a little stream of
water, and performed the necessary toilet duties.

"Merciful heavens!" gasped Webster, when the two returned, while Hume
tried gallantly to preserve a look of stoical indifference.

The beautiful white skin was covered by a hideous mask of red, out of
which blazed the black eyes with a challenge that dared them to laugh at
their peril.

"Forward," said Hume, and off they went in single file; and as they
went, their eyes would ever and again seek the great mountain before
them, no longer blue and shadowy, but grey and rugged, with a cloud
coming and going about its highest peak.  They went on now among a
litter of stones, now in and out among ant-hills standing above their
heads, now struggling through some intervening kloof, or breasting the
far side of a steep valley, whose tributary stream crept slowly on
through thick rushes to the great river.  In one of these valleys, where
the water opened up into a shallow lagoon, a large reed buck, standing
up to its belly, regarded them unmoved, and at another spot a long tree
snake of vivid green whipped across their path at incredible speed and
streamed up a small bush, above which its head appeared as though
carved; locusts of strange form and brilliant colours flew from their
path, while a brace of hawks accompanied their march for some distance.
Their shadows from the right dwindled down to little round patches at
their feet, then gradually lengthened out on their left, and the shrill
cry of the cicada pulsating through the air beat upon their brains.

"Is it time we came to our moorings?" said Webster.

"A little further," said Hume, looking at the mountain; and they went on
over a ridge and down into a rounded valley, where a small vlei shone
like a jewel.  They were leaving this sheet of water on their left, when
Hume suddenly halted.

"What a sight!" he whispered.  "Look there!"

Out of the centre of the vlei rose the clear-cut head of a lioness, with
her eyes gleaming green as emeralds.  She was lying there in the shallow
water for coolness.

"She cannot see us," said Hume; "the sun is shining in her eyes.  See
how they glow like bits of glass."

They stood absorbed in the spectacle; but the lioness hearing, though
she could not see, began to move her head, then sat up like a dog, with
the water streaming from her yellow shoulders, and her eyes still
sparkling with green fire.  She thrust her head forward, then, detecting
some taint in the air, gave a low growl, whereupon, from out the
withered grass on the further side, rose a huge lion, who, being out of
the direct rays of the sun, saw the silent group, and fetched a deep
growl.  Thereupon, the lioness walked towards him, and, after one long
stare over her shoulder, she lay on the grass and rolled over like a big
dog, and the lion crouched down with his shaggy head on his outstretched
paws.

With many a backward glance, the party moved on, glad that they had seen
such a spectacle without being compelled to fire in defence.  They
rested at noon for lunch, then pushed on steadily, gradually edging
along to the higher watershed, away for miles within easy view.
Presently there came to them a low, tremulous murmur, which grew as they
advanced, until it sounded at last like the sweep of the outermost
fringe of the waves swinging to and fro over loose shells.

"It is the voice of the reeds swayed by the wind," said Hume; "and when
we reach the ridge above we shall be above this leafy sea."

"Oh, how beautiful!" murmured Laura, a few minutes later, as they looked
over a vast sea of feathered green; now shining with a silver reflection
as the sun struck upon the leaves all bent in one direction by the wind;
now with a ripple of dark shadows as the light tops sprang back
together; now mottled all over with specks and splashes of black and
white, and yellow.  And all the time there rose the sweet, soft murmur
and sibilant swishing, low and melancholy.  As far as the eye could see
stretched this moving mass, and it widened out to a dense fringe of bush
on the right, beyond which, again, rose the buttresses of the mountain,
springing to where, in one straight mass of frowning granite, seamed and
scarred into a thousand fissures, towered the precipitous sides of the
mountain itself.

Resting on their weapons, they stood gazing from the restless level of
green to the grim sentinel of rock, its brow among the clouds, and its
front overlooking the lowlands; and as they looked it was borne in upon
them by the melancholy in the voice of the reeds and by the impassive
face of the mountain that there might well be some dark mystery of
Nature hidden away in this desolate place, but there could be no hope,
or joy, or sound of laughter.  Here was Nature of vast unpeopled places,
of voiceless rivers languishing through thirsty sands, of rock-strewn
uplands, and arid flats--Nature gloomy, mournful, and yet majestic too.

They sat down and, while there was still light, studied once more the
well-thumbed map, with its vague outlines, and no longer simple when
compared with the tossed and broken zigzag of mountain kloof and gorge.

"It would seem easier," said Webster, "to flank the mountain from the
spot where we now stand, rather than attempt to scale its front in
search of that profile of a face, whose likeness may have appeared plain
to your uncle, but which very likely will offer to us no resemblance."

"I think so also," said Laura, "for, see, when we get round the mountain
through the forest here marked, we enter apparently a wide valley where
we should have no difficulty in finding the ruins said to exist, and the
rock bears to the north-west, distant about ten miles."

"I should prefer to follow the old hunter's directions," said Hume; "but
if we cannot find the face in the mountain, then we could adopt your
suggestion."

"Very well," said Webster, "but it will be more difficult to scale that
wall than to strike through the forest."

"Perhaps, but I have a desire to stand where he stood in the place of
the eye at sunrise and see the flaming signal as he saw it, or fail to
see, for now I have lost faith."

"No, my friend, you have not," said Laura; "for then you would have no
wish to follow your uncle's wanderings.  He must have been a man of rare
courage to have struggled alone as he did, and as we are five, if we
have but a part of his determination we must succeed.  How desolate, how
melancholy, the place is, with scarce a sign of life, except for that
eagle soaring there."

"Yet those reeds must shelter herds of buffalo, and sea-cow, and we know
not what else."

"We are seen," broke in Sirayo's deep tones.

"Seen!  By whom?"

Sirayo pointed with an assegai to the nearest peak, distant about two
miles, and shading their eyes, for they stood in the light, while the
slopes running towards them were in shadow, they looked anxiously up.

"I see nothing," said Laura.

"There is a man standing on a rock," said Klaas.

"It may be a bush or stone," muttered Webster.

"Neh, sieur, it is a man."

"They are right," said Hume; "look!" and he pointed to where a column of
smoke rose straight into the air from a spur which ran to the forest
behind them.

As they watched, another column shot into the air behind; then a third,
from the summit of the mountain; then a fourth, faintly descried still
more distant; and as they looked, the darkness swept over the scene, and
in place of the smoke there gleamed out a spot of red on the peak.

"They speak to one another of our coming," said Sirayo.

"There you see Kaffir telegraphy, Miss Laura; in five minutes the
villages within ten miles have warning.  The way through the forest you
suggested is guarded; we must seek the shelter of the reeds and push on
under their cover.  There must be no fires to-night.  Forward!"

Slowly they picked their way over loose stones, through dongas deep and
slippery, through thorns and bushes, until the reeds closed upon them.
Then, with their heavy hunting knives, they cut out an open space,
stacked the fallen reeds in a wall, made beds with the leaves of others,
and passed the night.



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

A NIGHT IN THE REEDS.

The day's long march had tired them, and wanting the sociable aid of a
fire, they soon fell asleep, each one on his own bed of reeds, lulled by
the continuous ripple and murmur of the waving mass.  The two blacks
slept with their blankets completely drawn over their heads, so that no
sound disturbed them, but the other three in turn would start, and with
lifted head peer vainly into the blackness round them, and twice Laura
reached out a hand on either side to feel if her protectors were there,
and each time the hand instinctively was grasped in a strong palm.

At a deep, low growl of some prowling animal, perchance the lion seen on
the march, Hume sat up gently and cradled his gun on his knees, giving
ear to the soft, mysterious creeping noises, as though a legion of elves
were whispering in the reeds, and eyeing the stars for comfort.  As he
listened he heard the beast outside move off, uttering a deep-drawn
sigh, and he was about to lie down again, when he fancied he heard the
sound of another animal sniffing.  The noise, however, was not repeated,
or the heavy breathing of the sleepers prevented him from tracing it,
but he was on his guard again, with every sense on the alert.  He could
feel that something was stealing in upon them, and the slight path they
could not avoid making when they entered was no doubt being used.  He
had fixed his couch opposite the entrance, and held his rifle with the
muzzle towards it; but if his suspicions were correct, and something was
approaching, the movement was more stealthy than the advance of a
footless serpent.  Presently, however, raising his glance until he dimly
outlined the waving heads of the reeds against the stars, he saw a reed
bend slowly away, and then another, each one disappearing as though
gently drawn down.

There could only be one solution to that mystery.  The reeds must have
been cut at their base, and then gently lowered, and whose work could
this be but that of a human foe, patient and cunning?  At once he cocked
the trigger, and the sharp click woke Webster with a start.

"Ssh!"  Hume hissed, while still keeping his eyes fixed on the reed
tops.

The click of the gun and the noise of the waking man had been heard, for
the movement stopped.  The moments went slowly by, and for the one who
was in ignorance the suspense was keen.

"What is it?" whispered Webster at last.

Hume bent over to reply.  "I think we have been tracked.  Waken Sirayo."

Webster laid his hand on the chief's blanket, and slowly drew it from
his face.

He saw the gleam of the fierce eyes as the cold night air at once
awakened the sleeper; then there was a deep-drawn sniff, and without a
sound, the Zulu was sitting up.

Hume still kept his eyes fixed on the reeds, but noting no further
movement, he rose gently to his feet, and slipping over the bundle of
reeds, sank to the ground, and with his rifle held before him, with one
hand crawled slowly to the edge without hint to anyone.  On returning,
however, he felt on either side, and found reeds carefully laid after
being cut.

He had made noise enough, and on his return to the enclosure he found
all the party astir.

"There is no doubt of it," he said; "we have been followed."

"Yes," said Sirayo; "there are people afoot."

"How do you know, chief, since you slept when this man stole in on us?
and how he came, and when he went, is to me a mystery.  He cut the reeds
as he advanced, and lowered each one to the ground.  Before he came I
heard the sigh of a lion."

"Mawoh!" exclaimed the Gaika.

"Well, Klaas, what is it?"

"It is the wizard; the same who came to the kraal after the lion sprang
over.  They go in couples."

"It may be the same," muttered Hume; "what do you say, Sirayo?"

"I know not," said the Zulu gloomily, "for the ways of those men are
dark; but there are people afoot; I can hear them now."

There was a long spell of silence after this, as they listened, with a
feeling at their hearts that if there were people moving it was in
search of them.

"Eweh! it is true!" broke in Klaas; "they are men on the war-trail, and
they sing of battles."

"I hear nothing," said Laura, trembling.

"Nor I," growled Webster.

"Neither do I," said Hume; "but these men do.  If they sing, however,
they must be halting round their fires, and if they are after us there
is nothing to fear now; but we must shift our quarters before we are
trapped.  What do you say, Sirayo?"

"Yebo, we must fly to the mountain and hide.  No man can live long in
these reeds, and a woman would be quickly struck down by the sickness."

"Yes, we must reach the mountains."

"What!" said Webster; "at first we fly to the reeds, to escape the
people on the hills--people we cannot see; and now you ask us to fly to
the mountains to escape people we cannot hear.  It seems to me we are
dodging shadows."

"You are right," said Hume wearily; "for what but a shadow could have
stolen in like this man did just now while I watched and listened?  For
all we know he may have returned."

"Don't!" gasped Laura; "when I look round I see eyes staring at me, and
in every noise I hear a footstep.  It is horrible, this place, and the
air seems heavy."

"Let us get out, then," said Webster; "but it is a mystery to me why we
should have entered a place which is now considered to be a trap."

"It is no use discussing the matter; let us quickly get our traps
together;" and suiting the action to the word, Hume rolled up his
blanket.  Luckily the bundles containing the kits were still intact.

Soon they were all ready, and then they followed Hume deeper into the
reeds, until one of the numerous game tracks was crossed, upon which
they followed it to the edge, coming out about two hundred yards below
the spot where they entered.  Then, treading softly to leave no spoor,
they advanced for a considerable distance, when the pace was quickened
up the rising and rock-strewn ground.  And now they were out in the open
they heard, unmistakably, the murmur of many voices, and caught, afar
off, on the edge of the reeds, the reflection of fires.  Their fears at
once saw enemies seated about those fires, and gave them energy to
pursue their way.  Gradually the ground grew rougher, the incline more
steep; but Sirayo unerringly kept to a ridge that wound tortuously up
among valleys whose growing depth could only be felt.  Up and up they
went doggedly, with bodies bent forward to the incline, and the two
friends took Laura each by an arm, and always spurring them on came the
faint echo of that deep-throated war-chant.

"I can go no further," said Laura presently, with her hand to her side.

"Rest awhile," said Hume gently; and she sank to the ground, while the
men stood near drawing deep breaths.

"The sun is soon up," said Sirayo, "and the watchers on the mountain
will see us."

Webster thrust his gun into Hume's hands, and, picking her up, went
staggering on a few ineffectual yards.

"Thank you," she said, as she sank to the ground, and at the words Hume
recalled the stinging rebuff he had received when he had lifted her in
his arms on the _Swift_.  Time and the alarms of many dangers had since
then tamed her spirit to indifference as to the degree of respect due to
her, and she would not have revolted had the Gaika carried her; but Hume
read in her thanks a deeper meaning.

"The horizon on the east is brightening, and in an hour there will be
light.  Let us find shelter, and rest the day," he said.

"Go on," she said; "but as for me, I will stay here."

"And I, too," said Webster.

"Stay, Klaas," said Hume quietly; then went off with Sirayo up the
ridge.

"He has left you to me," murmured Webster.

"I am content," she said; "his energy tires me."

"I care not, if we are together."

"The baas has gone to find a hiding-place; he will return," said Klaas.

"Of course," said Webster bitterly; "it is of our safety he is thinking,
and the mischief is that I am completely helpless in my ignorance."

"I am too tired to talk," she muttered; and he sat looking out over the
dark expanse to a light in the eastern sky.

In a few minutes Hume and Sirayo were back again.

"There is a place above here where we can halt against the shelter of a
precipice, which will screen us from any people above.  It is but a
short distance."

"It is so restful here," she said.

"Persuade her," he said, turning to Webster.

"I have not the will, even if I had the privilege," he replied; "she is
tired."

"Come," said Hume harshly; "this is no time to be nice.  We can take no
risks, and must reach the shelter."

She rose up, and disdaining any offer of help, walked on; and so, in
silence, they continued until the precipice was reached.  Here among
some huge boulders they spread their blankets, and in a minute Laura and
the two blacks were in deep slumber.

"Sleep, Frank," said Webster; "you will wear yourself out."

"So much the better for you," he said.

"Look here, Frank, you are the leader, and I follow you with my eyes
shut; but heavens above, man, my helplessness breeds in me a feeling of
desperation, which finds vent now and again in bad humour.  You must
bear with me."

"Ay, and what of myself?  I have brought you all here, and am answerable
for your safety.  That is anxiety enough without the additional weight
of your ill humour and her dislike."

"It will be all right when the morning breaks; now sleep, my lad."

Frank stretched himself out and Webster remained on guard till the dawn
broke in a red glory, and the heavy mists began to roll up from the
river.  Then Sirayo and Klaas arose and went away to a fountain, which
gurgled from the rock, to wash the sleep from their eyes, and to polish
their white teeth with bits of stick.  Then one of them made a fire with
dry sticks, trusting to the curling wraiths of mist to hide the slight
smoke, and the other filled the kettle.  They built up a screen of rocks
to hide the blaze, then sat down to warm their hands and feet.  Then
Hume woke, and when the coffee was ready Laura stirred under her blanket
and lifted her head to look around.

"For heaven's sake, Laura," said Webster, "do go and wash that hideous
mask from your face!  It is a nightmare."

"Thank you," she said stiffly, but, nevertheless, was prompt to take the
hint, Webster leading her to the fountain, while Hume looked after them
with a sigh.  His face had a worn and anxious look, and his cheeks
seemed to have suddenly hollowed.

"Laura," said Webster gravely; "we did not behave well to Frank last
night, and he feels it deeply.  Be kind to him."

She looked at him with a flash in her eyes.  "You presume too much," she
said coldly; but, nevertheless, on returning to the fire, she took her
place next to Hume, and treated him with a winning deference that soon
smoothed the lines from his face.

Then they sat and watched the mist fade and the country below appear
suddenly fresh and brilliant in the soft light, and presently, as they
looked, they saw a band of warriors move quickly along the edge of the
reeds.  In the clear light they were plainly seen even to the colour of
their shields, and it was noticed that at intervals small bodies broke
away to enter the reeds, while the rest followed the lead of a solitary
warrior who went ahead.

"They are hunting," said Hume.

"Yebo--they hunt us; and the men who enter the reeds are stationed in
game tracks.  It is good; they think we are still there."

"And if we had remained," said Laura, "could we not have hidden?"

"No, Inkosikasi; those men who continue will presently enter in the rear
of our retreat.  They will then spread out and advance.  If we were
there we should be driven ahead like game, and those stationed in the
paths would see us sooner or later.  Oh, ay, it is a good plan they have
made, but we have made a better."

She put her hand on Hume's shoulder.

"You were right, Frank."

They watched in breathless interest, and it followed as Sirayo had said.
When the main body of warriors reached the spot they entered the reeds,
leaving half a dozen men on the outside, who turned and followed the
line of beaters.

"Two of those are white men," said Klaas; "they carry guns."

"The devils," growled Webster; "there is some mystery in the hate with
which they pursue us."

"No mystery," answered Laura; "they have the key to the Golden Rock, and
know we are in search of it."

"I'm afraid it is so," said Hume.  "They do not shout as they would if
they were after game; and, see, a buffalo has broken cover, and the men
on the outside do not fire."

For an hour the man hunt went on, and from time to time game of all
kinds broke out, circled round unnoticed, and re-entered the reeds.  At
last a gun was fired as a signal, and the men straggled out in twos and
threes till the whole body had re-assembled about a mile below the point
they had entered.  They remained for some time, after which they lit
fires, while half a dozen men again advanced, quartering the ground
along the reeds, searching evidently for spoor.

"It is well we were careful to leave no spoor when quitting the reeds,"
muttered Hume, as he brushed his hand across his brow.

Slowly the six men advanced until they were opposite the retreat, when
they again entered the reeds, remaining hidden for some time, to emerge
at last from the very game track followed by the fugitives.

Hume grasped his rifle, while Sirayo's hand felt for his assegai.

The men stayed a few minutes gesticulating; then four of them started
back for the main body, leaving two, who moved about for some time with
their bodies bent.  Then, straightening up, they advanced swiftly.

"Good God!" muttered Hume; "they have hit off the spoor.  Behind the
rocks!"

Sirayo said a word to the Gaika, and, slipping off their blankets, they
each took an assegai and went down, one on each side of the ridge,
taking so much advantage of the shelter, that, after a few moments, even
Hume could not follow them.

"Have they deserted?" said Laura, with a gasp.

"No," said Hume, in a suppressed whisper; "they are taking the only
measure that will save us.  They are brave men and faithful, and our
lives depend on them."

"It is true," she murmured, while her eyes grew large.  "I said it when
you first told me of the accursed Rock--it can only be reached through
blood."

From the shelter of the rocks they saw the two men breast the ridge,
following on the spoor like bloodhounds, and stopping at intervals to
look over the ground ahead.  Gradually their pace slackened, until, when
they had reached the place where Laura had rested, they halted, and
seemed reluctant to advance further; indeed, after looking long at the
precipice which crossed the ridge, they turned to retreat.

They were about four hundred yards off, and Hume raised his rifle.

"If they escape," he said, "the whole crowd will be about us, and if I
fire it will also draw them."

At this moment the men sprang aside as though suddenly alarmed, and in
the same breath the two concealed foes hurled themselves upon them.
There was a shout, the sharp click of assegais, a death hug and tumble,
and two men arose to continue their flight down the hill.

The three spectators looked at each other horrified.

"Our men are killed," said Webster, moistening his lips.

"This is the beginning of the end," she whispered; "poor Klaas, who was
so willing, and Sirayo so strong and brave."

Hume looked after the two men with despair in his eyes.  They reached
the bottom of the ridge, shouted after the four men, who were half-way
to the main body, and then entered the reeds.



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

THE FACE OF ROCK.

"It won't be long before they attack us, will it?" asked Webster
quietly; "the main body may be two miles away, or perhaps three,
allowing for the roughness of the ground.  They will learn where we are
in half an hour.  We've got an hour--plenty of time to build a circular
wall from the base of the cliff."

"We three are left," murmured Laura; "and if we are to die, let us die
together."

"Don't let us talk of dying," said Hume, who had been in a brown study.

"We've beaten them off before, and we'll do it again," continued
Webster; "but we must have our bulwarks high and stanch.  Let us begin."

"There is no necessity; at least, I hope so.  Wait until I return," and
he cautiously went down the ridge.

"What's in the wind now?" muttered Webster, as the two looked anxiously
at each other, and then stood waiting in silence while they searched the
ground in vain for any sign of him.  At last, after a torturing
interval, they saw him reach the scene of the fight, saw him a moment,
and then underwent the same suspense.  It might have been an hour after
he left them that he suddenly appeared below them from behind a bush,
and his face told its tale before he cried, "It is all right."

"How," they said, "can it be right?  Surely there were two men killed,
and the others escaped?"

"Yes," said Hume, rubbing his knees, for he had crawled for many a yard;
"but the two men killed were our enemies."

"But why, then, did our men leave us?"

"Be sure they have some good reason.  When I saw the two retreat after
the fight, I thought, with you, that Sirayo and Klaas had been killed;
but I could not understand how a man like Sirayo could fall before a foe
not armed with a gun, and something in their walk aroused my hopes.
When they entered the reeds, I was convinced they were our men; for,
naturally, the others, if they had escaped, would have run on at once to
the main body."

"Shake, old man," said Webster; "you've put me in good heart again;" and
the two brown and sinewy hands came together in an iron grasp.

"Don't leave me out," she whispered, and with the first laugh that had
left their lips for some time, the three crossed hands.  Then, seating
themselves on the long grass between the rocks, they watched the Zulus
right through the morning, and into the afternoon.  There was no
movement until the sun was on the downward slope, and the shadow of the
mountain had lengthened out, when, the warriors fell into four
companies, and entered upon what, from the deep-throated shouts that
marked time to their antics, was evidently a war-dance.

"See!" said Hume anxiously, "they are preparing to attack; there can be
no doubting that dance.  Can it be possible that they know we are here?"

"If our men have told them," said Webster gloomily.  "But," he added
grimly, "let them come, and have done with this suspense."

"They are moving now!"

"And coming this way!"

"Yes, by heavens!"

"Hark," said Laura, "what booming noise is that?"

The two men looked at her, at the wild gleam in her eyes, at the parted
lips and heaving breast, and the dew stood in beads on their foreheads
at the awful thought that her mind had given way.

"Why do you look at me so?  Do you not hear it--there!"

Hume started, and bent his eyes to the top of the krantz.

"I have it!" he almost shouted, "they are not coming to attack us; that
noise you hear is made by the people above sounding the alarm with their
horns."

"But the Zulus are coming this way," said Webster.

"They may turn off before they reach the ridge."

On came the band of warriors, walking in column of six abreast, with
their Indunas on their left.  A ribbon of white ran down the dark line,
made by the mark on their shields, and presently the nodding plumes
could be seen.  Suddenly they wheeled to the left and wound their way up
to a spur of the mountain, until the long column of about six hundred
men was marching parallel to the ridge where the fugitives hid, and bars
of light shone between the ranks.  As the shadows darkened the column
was hidden by the rising ground, and, except for an occasional horn
blast echoing from the mountain, there was nothing to tell of the
presence of savages near.

So the long day drew to its close, leaving the three uneasy and wearied
in spirit from the recurring strains, and they waited with fresh
suspense for the return of Sirayo and Klaas.  Happily, however, they
were not kept long waiting, for soon after the night had fallen a low
whistle sounded below them, and Hume responding, the two suddenly
appeared out of the darkness.

They were overwhelmed with questions, for the joy of the three at their
safe return broke down the barriers of reserve observed in intercourse
between them.

"We have not eaten," said Klaas practically.

"We may build a fire," said Sirayo, and throwing down their assegais,
they were about to bring in wood and water.

"Rest," said Hume; "we will do this," and very soon a fire was made
under the shelter of a rock, the kettle was put on, and the food brought
out.

The two natives were left to their repast, and when at last they filled
their pipes they were again questioned.

"We went into the reeds," said Sirayo, "as you saw."

"We thought at first you had been killed."

"Yoh! we each smote our man, for they were startled; then we took their
shields, called to the other four to throw them off their guard, and
entered the reeds.  We went through them till we came abreast of the
impi.  Then we lay and watched.  There were four Indunas and two white
men.  They ate and slept, and in the afternoon took medicine from the
_amapakati_, a big man whom the Gaika had seen before."

"Eweh," interposed Klaas, whose eyes gleamed through the dark, "the same
who came to the kraal, and who last night crept in upon us."

"They took medicine and danced.  Then they marched, and we thought at
first they were going to eat you up.  I saw the people on the mountain.
They took alarm; the horns sounded, and I knew the impi was not on your
spoor.  They have made their fires high up, and in the morning will
ascend.  It is well.  Our path will be clear."

"And the white men?"

"One I have seen before," said Klaas, "a small man with a yellow skin.
The other I know not, but his arm is hurt.  It was he the baas hit when
we were at the waggon."

"You have done good service, and we will remember.  They will have their
hands full with the mountain people."

"Oh, ayi, and with the people beyond if they enter the valley."

"Then our chances improve," said Hume, turning to Webster, "for while
they are fighting we may slip through undetected."

"I suppose there can be little doubt that this is Lieutenant Gobo, and
that he has somehow possessed himself of the secret of the Rock."

"And he has lost much time in his efforts to put us out of the way.
We'll be before him yet, unless we take this opportunity of escaping."

"No, no," cried Laura; "we have already undergone in imagination the
terror of violent death, and we must continue.  I have watched you
to-day, and saw how anxiety has left its mark on your faces.  Imagine
how it has been with me.  I can feel that there are grey hairs on my
forehead, that my cheeks have thinned, my mind is stored with the memory
of alarms, and if we retired there would be nothing for me but the
bitterness of disappointment and of failure.  I must reach this Golden
Rock, and then the future will once more brighten before me.  This
mission stands for me in place of everything I have lost, and you know
what that loss has been."

"Do you recall how the _Swift_ leapt at the great sides of the cruiser
through a fury of shot?" asked Webster slowly, his mind going back to
that one great tragedy of their lives.

"Yes," said Hume softly, "and I think we said we would do something for
the relatives of the gallant fellows who went to their death with
Captain Pardoe."

"Then we advance," said Laura.  "When?"

"Well, we must wait until the Zulus have broken camp, then we must
strike across their line of march, and continue south, about six miles,
I should say, from my recollection of the map, to bring us opposite that
bend in the mountain where the Rock may be seen from.  I cannot
understand why Gobo, if he is in search of the treasure, should approach
the mountain at the spot selected."

They continued to discuss this absorbing subject for some time before
seeking rest.  In the morning a sharp outlook was kept on the movements
of the Zulus from the top of the krantz, and they were seen to be afoot
soon after dawn; and as the clouds lifted later on it was also seen that
the people on the mountain had gathered in small bodies.  When the last
of the Zulus had been swallowed up in the deep gorges which scarred the
face of the granite mass, the little party set out on a course parallel
with the base of the mountain.  This presently took them across the wide
track beaten down in the grass by the naked feet of the warriors, and,
taking advantage of the shelter, they pushed on until noon, when the
mountain dipped round to the south.  Before this they had heard the
sound of firing reverberating from the deep ravines, but the shoulder of
the mountain now concealed them.  They paused now for a rest after their
sharp burst, and to prepare for the arduous labour of the ascent in
search of the Eye in the face of rock.

Above them towered the great mass, bare of trees, and grim with scars
and fissures cut by the sharp teeth of the wind and rain.  As is the
case with many African mountains, the summit was rimmed with a sheer
precipice that seemed from far below quite impassable.  They traced the
contour of the upper rim for sign of profiles, which are often
fantastically outlined by the rock, but without success, and, having
sufficiently rested, began the ascent.

They had carefully marked off their position by the map, and, in the
excitement of nearing their goal, had completely forgotten the
neighbourhood of rivals and enemies in the field.  They went on from
spur to spur, and whenever they topped a ridge the face of the mountain
took fresh shape, and they would pause to scan its rugged front.

At last, after one of these halts, there suddenly opened before them,
and above, a narrow fissure in the mountain; and at the very top,
sharply defined against the sky, stood out the profile of a human face,
the forehead sloping back to the very sky-line of the mountain, the nose
straight and clear-cut, the lips full, the chin with a bold and sweeping
curve, and the neck clearly defined before it joined the parent rock.
This profile would have been accounted something curious, but not
unusual, if it had not been for the marvel of the eye, which seemed
actually to sparkle with a look of mortal intelligence.  The eyebrow was
clearly marked--the lines beneath as well; but what gave to the feature
its magic touch of realism was a spark of light from the retina.  This
lent majesty to the face.  The eye seemed to follow them as they moved,
and they could not suppress a feeling that there was some living and
awful power bending its gaze in severe displeasure upon them.

Hume drew a long breath, and then began, in his excitement, to fill his
pipe, while, with a smile of triumph, he stood looking at the face.

"By Jove," he said, "the old man was right after all!"

"It is wonderful," said Laura, with a shiver; "but I wish it had not
such a human look."

"There is something in it," said Webster, in a low voice, "that reminds
me of an eye shining through a layer of still clouds."

After an exclamation that broke from their lips at the first shock of
startled surprise, the two natives turned their backs to this mysterious
and threatening portent.

Hume alone was not oppressed.  Whether because he was free from
superstition, and had little imagination, he regarded the face as merely
a natural curiosity, and was moved only because it did exist.

"Come," he said cheerily, "let us reach it before nightfall.  See, the
ravine before us leads right up, and though the mountain rises to the
face apparently in a straight wall, there is no doubt a way up.  Take
your bearings, Webster."

They looked at the face, and then at the points around that were most
conspicuous, and then they looked at each other, startled and dismayed.

When their gaze again returned to the face, the eye was no longer there,
and the face itself, deprived of that living spark, seemed not the same.

"Never mind," said Hume, with a strange laugh, "we have seen it.
Forward!"

Somewhat reluctantly, they moved on, casting questioning glances above;
but when presently the face was hidden by an intervening ridge, they
shook off their fear, to be revived again when they entered the ravine.
This cut deeply into the heart of a mountain, a vast and gloomy fissure
where the sun scarcely entered, the haunt of the owl, but of no other
living creature.  Lofty walls towered above them, and the bottom was
covered with a litter of loose stones and gigantic boulders.  At each
step the stones clattered away, and the sounds echoed and re-echoed.

They did not speak above a whisper, for a loudly uttered word was tossed
back from side to side and rolled up in deep mutterings.  And then the
gloom was so deep, especially when a slight bend to the left shut out
the opening behind, that it seemed as if night had already fallen, and
one of them looking up, saw pale stars appear out of the blue.  Still
they plodded on, with many rests, as the incline grew rapidly steeper,
and Hume affirmed that in an hour they would reach the top.

"It only wants that time to sunset," said Webster, "and before then it
will be too dark in this wolfs throat to see a yard."

"At any rate, let us get as near the top as we can, so that we can reach
the face before sunrise."

"If it is there still," muttered Webster gloomily.

Again they advanced, the darkness deepening, and the walls narrowing in
upon them, until Hume, who was leading, uttered a sharp cry.

"What is it now, in Heaven's name?"

"The way is barred.  We're in a _cul-de-sac_!"

They went up to Hume and stood against a great wall, which, as they
could dimly see, stretched right across.

All sank to the ground with a first feeling of relief that they had to
go no further, except Hume, and he went from side to side, feeling with
his hands for some way over this obstacle.

"It is no good," he cried; "we must halt here and try again to-morrow."

His words were met by a sound of weeping as Laura, tired out, for the
first time gave way to a spasm of sobs which shook her frame and awoke
echoes the most melancholy in that profound abyss.  This sign of womanly
weakness at once restored to the men courage to face this new trouble
with cheerfulness, and, deeming it best to leave her to the relief of
tears, they busied themselves in making for her a comfortable couch,
finding material in a mass of fern which grew at one spot where water
oozed from the rock.  The dried ferns also served for fuel, and
presently the flames flickered up, casting fantastic shadows.  They made
light of their position, being rewarded by seeing Laura take her coffee,
and tasteless damper and tough biltong, with the relish of hunger.
Pipes were lit, she rolled a cigarette, and they leant back to gaze up
at the stars, now out in all their brilliancy, increased by the darkness
from which they looked.

Then, rolling themselves in their blankets, they fell into a profound
sleep, in spite of the hard rocks, and were not disturbed until far into
the night, when they were aroused by the sound of the wind moaning down
the ravine.  They drew their covering tighter to shut out the cold, but
the noise coming and going in a manner weird beyond the power of words
to express, they sat up to listen.  Then they found there was no breath
of air stirring about them, and that the noise came intermittently in
blasts from one direction, being caught up by the echoes and sent
booming from side to side.  When the echoes rolled away there would be a
fresh blast, a wailing note, a gasp as if the wind were struggling in
some long funnel, and, mingled with this sound, they fancied there was
some human note.

"There is a mystery here," said Hume, rising.

"It is the wizard of the mountain," said Klaas, shivering.  "His breath
will wither your flesh."

"Oh, hang the wizard!" growled Hume, as he moved off away from the
barrier; but the sound came again, rising from a moan to a shrill
screech.

They stood to their arms, driven to a pitch of fury by the disturbing
noise, until there was light enough to reveal objects at hand, when they
peered up at the walls above.

Suddenly the Gaika yelled aloud, and covered his eyes.

"What do you see?" asked Hume sternly.

"The white breath of the wizard, sieur!"

Hume stood by Klaas, and looked up just as from a point about fifty feet
above a puff of white darted from the rock, followed by the now familiar
wail.  He laughed at the sight.

"Here is our tormentor," he cried; "a blast of wind blowing through a
natural funnel," and he pointed to the spot.

They gathered near him, and Webster, with a quick glance at the rock,
began to climb.  From point to point he went with seeming ease, until,
reaching a ledge, he stood before the aperture.

"By Jove," he cried, "there's a gale of wind blowing through!" then,
after a pause, while his face was at the opening: "A light!  I can see
through.  Hume, suppose this is the way after all."

"Is the opening large enough for a man to pass through?"

"I will see."

They saw dimly his body disappear, and waited anxiously while the
moments slipped swiftly by.

"He is a long time," muttered Hume.

"He is in danger," said Laura, in a low voice, coming close to his side;
"I feel it."

"I will see," he said.

"Yes," she whispered; "I suppose you must," but she laid a trembling
hand on his arm, while her face looked ghastly white.

Sirayo let slip the blanket from his shoulders, and with a piece of fat
rubbed his skin until it shone.  Then quickly he scaled the rock and
disappeared.

And the three left behind stood there looking up at the hole, while
across the cleft above struck a broad fan of light, making a silver
track along the rocks on their right, and by the pale reflection they
saw the opening more clearly, and were startled by the sudden appearance
of the chief.  Hume placed his hand on Laura's shoulder.

"Have you found him?" asked Hume quietly.

"Yebo.  But it is bad.  He is dead!"

"Dead!" they muttered; "dead!"

"He lies here in the passage."

"Let us go to him," said Laura, shaking off her fears at once.

"Is the way easy?" asked Hume.

"It is easy."

She sprang to the rock, and Sirayo came down to help her, while Hume saw
that her footing was secure.  They entered a tunnel, which for some
distance was quite round, and through which, one at a time, they
crawled.  Then there was more room, and, guided by the light of day
ahead, they went on where the tunnel opened out on a wide ledge.  Here
lay their comrade with his face to the sky, and blood oozing from a
wound on his head.

About fifty yards to their right and above them was the Face!



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

A FEARFUL POSITION.

"He is not dead," said Hume, as he earnestly studied the white face.

"Oh, thank Heaven!  Quick! bring him in here out of the sun;" and,
sitting down in the shadow of the opening, she took the wounded head
upon her lap, and, with a firm, yet soft touch, parted the matted hairs.
"Now get water and brandy."

Hume went swiftly back to the place they had just left, and on his
return with water he found she had cut away the hair with her scissors,
which she always carried.

"It is only a surface wound.  I think we have some maize meal left; give
me some."

Hume unbound a small bundle, and produced a packet of meal, of which she
grasped a handful and laid it on the wound, pressing it with her hand
till the oozing blood caked it into an impervious plaster.

"That will stop the bleeding.  Now a drop of brandy," and, taking a
pannikin handed to her, she poured a few drops into his mouth, bathing
his forehead with the rest.  "Make a couch there with the blankets."
This was done, and the insensible form laid softly down.

Then she sat by his side, bathing his forehead at intervals, and
watching with an absorbed look, while Hume stood near pale and silent,
and the two natives crouched in the cave.

"Don't stand there," she said, without removing her gaze; "it irritates
me.  Find out how it happened."

Hume stepped out on to a broad ledge and stood in a maze, looking
without seeing anything, until the rush of an eagle before his face made
him recoil and restored his faculties.  Then he keenly noted the
surroundings.  The ledge terminated at the cave, and from its lip a
frightful precipice sank down and down into the rock-strewn depths.  On
his right the ledge swept up the face of the krantz to where the Face
stood out from the rock, about two hundred feet above.  He noted that
the outline was not so clear, the smoothness observable from a distance
being broken up by cracks and inequalities, while the neck was detached,
and in the eye was a jagged opening without design.  Slowly he mounted
towards the profile, scanning the ledge for a sign of human presence,
but finding nothing but a certain polish on the rock, which might have
been caused by the passage of human feet.  Without difficulty, and
without emotion, he stepped into the socket of the eye; but no sooner
was he there, with one hand holding to the rock to support him, than he
thrilled to the thought that at last the mysterious Golden Rock was in
the range of his vision.  He drew a deep breath, and, forgetting
everything, stood looking at the scene spread in noble beauty at his
feet.  There it lay, calm, beautiful and peaceful, the valley of the
shining rock; the place where no white man had entered; whose secret had
been jealously protected for centuries, to find its way at last through
those gloomy ravines to the solitary hunter, and from him to the three
who had been so strangely thrown together, and who were risking all to
win it.  Far and wide stretched the valley, flanked on the east and
south by the frowning battlement of rocky mountains; on the north and
west by deep forests, whose dark and sombre mantle stretched without a
break, a valley of gentle grassy undulations, with clusters of trees
scattered about, and with a broad and shining river running through its
centre.  On the further side large herds of cattle grazed, the slopes
leading to the river showed green in patches, where the mealies grew,
while dozens of native kraals were visible, and diminutive figures moved
about in the fields, about the huts, or along the winding paths.  On the
nearer side there were no cattle, neither people nor villages, nor the
criss-cross of trodden paths, but only an irregular structure overgrown
with bush, which marked, no doubt, the site of the ruins referred to in
the map.  Long he stood drinking in the scene, and making many guesses
as to the place where the rock should be, until he remembered that there
was no one with him to share this pleasure.  Then he examined the rock
about him, and saw that a ledge ran from his feet along the front of the
mountain facing the valley, to disappear round a projecting shoulder
about one hundred yards away.  Returning to the cave, he found Laura
still sitting by the still figure.  She looked up with a smile as he
entered.

"He is breathing regularly now, and the bleeding has stopped."

"You have saved his life, then," he said warmly; and added softly, "his
life is yours."

A deep flush suffused her face, and her lips trembled.

"Did you find anything?" she asked absently.

"No," he answered, with a sigh; "but I have seen the casket that holds
our treasure.  I have looked on the valley from the eye.  We are very
near it at last.  Will you come and see?"

"I will wait till he can join us.  It is at sunrise only--is it not?--we
can see the Golden Rock.  And to-morrow, then, let us stand together and
watch for the ray that is to guide us."

Hume looked at Webster, and he remembered the silent mysterious foe who
had dogged their footsteps.  "If to-morrow's sun shines for us," he
murmured.

At last, in the afternoon, Webster suddenly sat up, and with a wild
glare in his eyes, stared around him.

"We are here, Jim," she whispered softly.

The bloodshot eyes sought her pale face.  "And Frank?" he asked.  She
drew aside, showing Hume standing there.

"Look out!" he cried hoarsely, "there is danger here.  I was struck down
just now by some unseen hand.  Give me my rifle."

"There is no fear at present," she said gently.  "Several hours have
gone since we found you here."

"And Laura has nursed you all that time;" and Hume placed her hand in
that of the wounded man.

Then he stepped out again to keep guard, while Klaas, who had been very
subdued, took infinite pains to make the kettle boil out of such scanty
fuel as he could find.  When night closed down Webster was able to sit
up, but was still too dizzy to stand, and could not, much to his
concern, take his turn at guard.  Klaas was stationed at the back of the
cave, Sirayo at its mouth, while Hume went forward to seat himself in
the eye itself.

There was a profound silence up in that lofty eyrie, and the
long-continued strain they had been subjected to made them more liable
to the sad influence of the surroundings.  In the dim light Laura could
see the blanketed figure of the Zulu chief, seated like a stone image on
the ledge overhanging the deep ravine, and as she watched the blurred
outline minute after minute without seeing any movement, she began at
first to speculate on his reflections; but this train of thought rapidly
melted into a vague uneasiness, giving way again to a feeling of
superstition.  Her breath came quicker, and to still her fears she moved
softly out on to the ledge and laid a timid hand on the bowed shoulder
of the immovable savage.

He turned his head quickly at the touch, his eyes gleaming.

"I was afraid," she whispered, shuddering, and sat down near him, while
he, after a steady look around, gravely took snuff.

"Much dark," he growled in broken English.  "Inkosikasi not like.  Sit
here; sleep--no!" and leaning over, he gently touched the lip of the
precipice with his assegai.

"It is very deep," she whispered.  "What did you see down there in the
dark that you looked so steadily."

He shook his head.  "Still," he said; "listen."

Drawing his blanket more closely round him, he became motionless as
before, his sombre eyes fixed on the gloomy depths and his ears alert,
while she, feeling a little comforted by the presence of this watchful
figure, turned her white face to the brilliant stars.

In the cave Webster was recovering his strength in a profound sleep,
while behind him the lean Gaika, stretched at length in the narrow
tunnel, kept doggedly on guard, his position being the safest but the
most trying, from the cramped surroundings and intense gloom.

The post of danger, however, was on the eye, where Hume sat barring the
only possible way of approach to the unknown enemy who had struck down
Webster.  Fully two thousand feet below him was the wide valley, hidden
now by the blackness of night, and showing its depth only by one tiny
point of red where a fire blazed in some kraal.  To him there rose soft
sounds, the lowing of cattle, the cry of wild animals, a song of
natives, intermingled, and subdued by distance.  There was a sense of
companionship in the sounds, showing as they did the presence of living
creatures near that lonely height; but they did not appeal to his stern
nature.  He sat with a grim purpose, his rifle cocked, his ears bent to
detect some other noise, and his mind fixed only on the one purpose of
defending his position.  In this mysterious being, who had dogged their
footsteps, whose every visit had put them to a severe trial, he knew he
had to deal with someone not only possessed of extraordinary cunning,
but who had a secret knowledge of his name and his mission.  He would
not sound the dangerous depth of speculation about the identity of the
unknown, but sat on, determined and watchful.

So they continued at their several posts well into the night until the
wind rose, poured into the ravine, and as on the previous night, went
moaning into the ear of the cave, and through the narrow tunnel.

Hume stirred in his seat, and placed his finger on the trigger.  The
moment, he thought, had come.  Then the faint crack of a rifle broke on
his ear, followed by a confused murmur of voices, and almost at his
feet, though far down, a circle of fires pierced the darkness with their
red points.  The fires were evidently on the deserted right side of the
valley, and, as he judged, in the neighbourhood of the ruins.

Bringing the rifle to his shoulder, and with his elbow resting on his
knee, he idly sighted at one of these gleaming points.  While his finger
played with a come-and-go touch in the curve of the trigger, his nerves
suddenly tightened at a slight sound.  It was a sound made by a man
expanding his nostrils, the noise he had heard at the reeds--and slowly
bringing the muzzle round, he fired into the night.  There was the vivid
flash, the crashing report suddenly breaking the silence, and a startled
cry from his rear, where Laura still sat dreaming near the still figure
of the chief.

Then a deeper silence than before, save that the wind wailed down the
ravine; and Hume, softly rising to his feet, slipped in another
cartridge.

In a moment Sirayo was by his side, having come without a sound, and the
two stood intently listening, without a whisper even of what had
occurred.

"Are you safe?  Oh! what is it?"  It was Laura's frightened voice
hailing.

Sirayo clicked with his tongue at the interruption, and Hume half turned
his head.

"Frank," she cried again, nearer at hand.  "Frank; oh, how dark!"

Hume thought of the narrow ledge, of the fearful precipice, of the
danger of one false step in the dark, and cried out:

"Stand where you are.  I am coming."

Immediately the darkness below was pierced by lurid flashes, and bullets
smacked against the rock or whistled fiercely overhead.

Hume fired both barrels, and then swung behind the projecting rock which
formed the ear of the face.

"Oh, merciful Lady!" came in a gasp from behind.

"Take her to the cave, chief," said Hume quickly, "and return with the
other gun."

Sirayo slipped away, and Hume, taking a heavy Colt's revolver from his
belt in his left hand, swung himself round and fired along the ledge on
the further face of the mountain.  The first shot was swiftly answered,
and as quick as lightning, he emptied the remaining barrels, guided by
the flashes.

Sirayo returned, and Hume explained to him that the enemy must be
advancing along a ledge which sloped away to their right for about one
hundred paces, to disappear around a projecting rock.

"We should hold this place against a hundred.  The only danger is lest
two or three should crawl up while their companions fire to attract our
attention."

"It is easy to shoot wide in the dark," muttered Sirayo, "but when a man
gets close enough to thrust an assegai it is different."  He felt about
with his naked feet to find the nature of the foothold.

Hume fired again, drawing as before an instant reply, the bullets
singing viciously overhead.

"They fire high," said Hume.

"How wide is the ledge?"

"It will take two men, crawling side by side."

"Soh!  Here is a plan.  Let one of us get out flat on the ledge.  The
other will stand here and fire.  Then the other will hear if any advance
on their bellies, and shoot."

"It is good; I will take the ledge."

"Nay, the plan is mine; I will take the ledge, and if the bullet misses,
the assegai will not."

"No, chief; your assegai is good against one or two, but this little gun
holds six lives."

"Go, then," said Sirayo, with a grim chuckle; "but when your little gun
has spoken let me try my assegai."

Hume took off his boots, laid his rifle and cartridge-belt aside, and
then, feeling his way with his hands, he crept out, inch by inch,
several yards, until he was well out on the ledge.

Then he sat close against the wall of rock, with his revolver ready--
waiting.  It was a dangerous position, and his life depended on the
keenness of his hearing and steadiness of nerve.  Before him were
cunning foes stealthily advancing, and within a yard was the lip of the
sheer precipice.

No sooner had he sat down than Sirayo, standing well out in the eye,
fired, and the bullet, striking the side of the mountain, went humming
into the darkness.  A solitary shot replied; then another nearer, and a
third still nearer; and immediately after the third report a shout
rolled out, deep and fierce, thundering taunts.

"Look out!" hissed Sirayo, and fired again.

The shouting increased, and Hume's grasp tightened on his revolver,
while his breathing came quicker.  What was that?  The sound of metal
touching the rock--just touching it--but the faint tinkle was enough.
There were men crawling up, then!  That soft noise--it must be made by
naked men creeping.  His arm stiffened--his eyes were riveted--he now
scarcely breathed.  Was that a darker shadow before him?--almost within
reach--his finger closed on the trigger.  There was a groan--the rattle
of a spear falling--the flash of a gun almost in his face, so that the
burning powder scorched his eyes, and he emptied his remaining barrels
before covering his eyes with his hand.  As he did so he heard at his
side the double report as Sirayo, advancing, fired; heard the terrible
Zulu war-cry, the clash of blades, the fierce grunting of men in a death
struggle.  But he sat helpless, blinded, in an agony of pain and
apprehension.  The sound of the fighting retreated, grew more fitful,
died away, and with trembling fingers he refilled the empty chambers of
his pistol, and waited, with his hand over his throbbing eyeballs.  But
the enemy did not come; instead he heard the voice of Sirayo calling:

"Eh, Hu-em--Inkose!"--calling surely in some strangely unfamiliar tone
of fear.

"Hu-em, my friend, do not desert me."

"What is it, chief?"

"Come; I cling to the rock."

"Good God!" cried Hume; "wait," and painfully he groped his blind way
along, grinding his teeth.

"Quick, my friend!" cried the chief hoarsely.

"Yes, yes; oh, God, for one moment's strength!"

"Frank, oh, Frank, where are you?"

He turned his head at the sound.  "Laura!" he cried.

"Oh, thank Heaven!"

"Listen," he cried, steadying his voice by a supreme effort.  "You will
find a ledge on your right.  Keep your right hand, to the rock and come
on quickly, quickly, for God's sake!"

There was a sobbing reply, but he heard her come.

"Where are you?"

"Here; but go on quickly to the chief.  He is in danger."

"But you--you are hurt?"

"Go on," he cried fiercely; and he felt the touch of her dress and heard
her voice go out in a quivering cry for Sirayo.

"Inkosikasi," came the faint reply.

She gave a shriek of terror as, guided by the heavy breathing of the
chief, she felt his wrist, and slipping her hand over the straining
muscles of the arm, found that he was hanging from the ledge.

"Your other hand," she said.

"Broken!" he growled.  "Woman weak--where Hu-em?"

She stretched herself on the ledge, and, reaching over, grasped the
shoulder-strap from which his bag was suspended.

"No good," he panted; then, in Zulu, he muttered: "It is a far drop, and
every bone will be broken.  To die like this.  Inkosikasi!"

"Well!" she gasped.

"A gun is near.  Find it and shoot!  So Sirayo dies!  Go--find."

"Hold on--help comes.  If you fall you drag me.  Frank!"

There was a movement by her side, fingers felt along her outstretched
hands, then closed upon the warrior's wrist in a grasp of iron, and
Hume, shutting his teeth, put forth all his strength.

There was a scramble, a sob, the sound of deep panting breaths, and
Sirayo was saved.  Hume, with a cold sweat on his brow, fell back,
almost swooning from the fierce throbbing of his eyes.  Laura gave way
to a fit of crying, and Sirayo, crawling along the ledge, lay at full
length, breathing deeply.

If the enemy had come now, not one of them could have lifted a finger in
defence.



CHAPTER THIRTY.

THE PLACE OF THE EYE.

Some minutes they remained helpless in that perilous position, then
Laura aroused, but at the deep silence--significant of, perhaps, more
disaster--she cried out, frightened.

Hume muttered some inarticulate reply.

"Oh, let us get away from here," she said, almost in a whisper.  "The
precipice so near seems to draw me to it, and in every breath of wind I
hear a stealthy footstep."

"Yes, let us go," he said in a low voice, trying to keep his agony from
her knowledge.  "Keep your left hand against the rock, and tread firmly.
Sirayo!"

"My strength has returned," answered the chief, though he still breathed
heavily.  "Pass by, and I will follow," and there was a movement as he
edged to the brink of the krantz.

"I will go first," said Hume; "follow me closely, Laura;" and setting
his teeth so that no groan should escape, he groped his way along.  She
came fearfully behind, catching her breath now and again, and Sirayo
followed.

Now that the excitement, which had supported them before, had died away,
the return along that giddy height, with no other guide than the sense
of touch, was full of terrors, and these increased in the slow and
hesitating advance.  If she had known that the one who led was blind,
that at times he almost reeled through pain, she must inevitably have
broken down; but Hume forced himself to the task with a desperate
resolve.

At last he felt the ridge made by the eye, and climbing up, helped her
to ascend, then asked her if she could go on to the cave; then, as she
went on, he sat with his head bowed on his hands.

"What is it, friend?" asked Sirayo, as he, in his turn, reached the
place.

"I am blind, chief, blind!" was the bitter reply.

"Yoh!" and, overcome by the terrible nature of the injury the Zulu
remained dumb.

"Say nothing to her, for it will soon be morning, and she must stand in
the eye and watch.  Bind this handkerchief about my eyes."

"I cannot--my arm is broken; but I will send Klaas with water.  It is
bad--this thing that has happened.  It would have been better had you
let me go out on the ledge."

"And your arm is broken," muttered Hume.  "We owe our lives to her, and
the mountain is slipping away."

Sirayo caught him, and laid him in a corner of the rock, then went down
rapidly to the cave, where he called to Klaas.

"Where is he?" asked Laura.

"He is tired; moreover, he says the morning is near at hand, when you
will stand in the place above."

"To see the Golden Rock," she murmured.  "At last; but at what cost of
suffering!"

"What do you say about the rock?" asked Webster, sitting up suddenly.

"Are you better?" she asked gently.

"Ay, except that my head feels strangely light.  Where is Hume?"

"He has been watching through the night, and is still out on the ledge."

"Good fellow.  I will take his watch when I am well."  And with a sigh
he sank back on to the couch to sleep again.

A faint smile hovered about her lips, then she bound Sirayo's damaged
arm, and at last, drawing her blanket over her, she sank into a profound
slumber.

On the rock above, Klaas put a bandage round his master's injured eyes,
gave him water, and made a pillow for his head.  Sirayo went out on the
ledge again to keep watch, bearing his injury with stoic indifference,
and grimly bent on doing his duty.

"Sit with your face to the sunrise, Klaas," whispered Hume, "and when
you see the sky turn red bring your mistress here."

"Eweh, my master."

So they sat in the darkness and silence deep and brooding.

"Do you sleep, Klaas?"

"Neh, sieur."

"I feel the touch of the morning wind."

"The stars are white, all but one that shines red."

"The morning star.  The sun will soon be up.  Are the clouds rising, do
you think?"

"The sky shines like the eye of a pool when the moon looks on it."

"And the mist; look below."

"It is black below, sieur."

The minutes went slowly by.

"It must be time," he muttered.  "What noise is that?"

"Birds flying over.  They smell the morning; and the buck will now take
his stand at the edge of the kloof, to catch the first warmth of the
sun.  Ayi; the red line spreads along the sky."

"Call your mistress!"  Hume cried.  "The moment is at hand!" he
murmured; "and I--I will not see this wonder."

Presently she came and stood by him.

"I am here, Frank."

"Stand in the opening above, with your face to the west, and look below
to your right.  At the first ray of the sun you should see the light on
the Golden Rock."

"Am I to stand there alone," she said, "at this moment we have looked
forward to so intently?"

"Where is Webster?" he asked impatiently.

"He is still weak and asleep.  And you, Frank--I can see you have been
wounded."

"For Heaven's sake!" he said, almost fiercely, "take your stand there.
I am all right, but knocked up."

She sighed, and stepped into the embrasure, and stood there waiting,
with an oppression at her heart that robbed the moment of all its
expected joy.  The two natives sat near, calm and unmoved, perhaps
marvelling at the strange ways of these restless white people.

"What do you see?" asked Hume anxiously, to make her talk, so that she
should not hear him moan with the pain he suffered.

"I see the rocks on my right, the outlines of the mountains beyond, a
tremulous light around, but below it is jet black.  No--there is a faint
luminous track winding through the blackness."

"That is the layer of mist over the river."

"There is a glow on the summits of the distant mountains; and, oh! above
me, on the rocks, there is the reflection as from fire.  It is the
sunlight streaming, and it stretches out, fan-shaped, pouring its
radiance down into the darkness in countless quivering threads of
silver."

"Follow that gleam," he cried; "don't let your gaze wander."

"It is shivered by a projecting rock on the mountain side," she
continued; "but the centre broadens out and flows on deeper and deeper,
the darkness flying before it, and now there is a lake lying far below;
no, it is land, I think--rolling prairie, and oh!"

"What--what?"

"Come and look at this--a gleaming spot far off, that glows like the
heart of a furnace.  Give me your hand."

"No; I am tired.  Laura, that is the rock; look well at it."

"Is that the rock? it glows, it flashes back the light.  There is a pale
radiance that quivers above and around, and a wide belt of purple about
its base--a belt of colour that widens, contracts, and coils upon
itself.  Purple--no, it is not purple; it is like a band of opal; now
'tis red, blood-red," and her voice sank to an awed whisper, "and the
yellow flame above shines wonderfully."

"Mawoh," muttered Klaas.

"Well, what now?"

"It is gone--faded!"  And she stood looking below her with wide-opened
eyes and parted lips, and a glow of colour in her cheeks.  "Frank, it
was such a sight I saw when we were on the mid-Atlantic."

"And has it repaid you for all you have suffered?" he asked.

"Repaid me; it was beautiful!  But it has not repaid me, and will not
till I stand beside the rock itself."

"That cannot be," he said in low tones.

"And why?" she asked, still looking away.

"Webster is ill."

"He is rapidly recovering, I am sure; and the news that we have seen the
Golden Rock will restore him."

"Then Sirayo is wounded."

"His arm is bruised, not broken; and then we have you."

"But," he said, "I am blind!" and the long restraint he had put upon
himself giving way, he flung his hands out before him with a groan of
bitter disappointment.

"Blind!" she murmured, "blind!" and sinking beside him, she caught his
hands in a convulsive grasp, and looked into his drawn and bandaged
face.  "Oh, Frank! why did not you tell me of this before?  How did it
happen?  But never mind now; let me lead you to the cave.  Blind! and
out on that fearful ledge."

"Yes," he said, with a ghastly smile; "lead me to the hospital."

"Hullo!" shouted Webster, as they approached the opening, "I thought you
had left me, cast me adrift without compass or food, and I have a most
extravagant appetite.  Don't look so downcast; I assure you I am quite
well.  Why, what is it?"

"You see, I am crippled, Jim, disabled, helpless, worse than useless."

"Lad, I don't believe it;" and rising, Webster stepped to Hume's side,
took his hand, then, as he caught the signs of suffering, he gently
pressed him to the couch, while Laura leant against the rock with her
hands before her face, her courage gone at last.

"Hurt, while I have been lying here like a log.  Well, it is my turn to
help now.  Let us look at it."  Gently he drew away the roughly-tied
bandage, and caught his breath at what he saw.  He looked quickly over
his shoulder.  "Laura, tell Klaas to get some water."  She went out
slowly, and he examined the injury.  The upper part of Hume's face was
blackened, the eyelashes and eyebrows burnt off, the eyelids glued to
the cheeks.  "Poor lad!" he muttered.  "She must not see this."

"Is it so bad; will I ever see again, Jim?"

"Ay, man, that you will!  I have seen a worse case mend within a week
with the proper treatment.  Laura, you look worn--lie down and rest.
This is my case.  Klaas, bring water and some clean damp moss."

Klaas quickly returned, and Webster began, with a gentle touch, to
moisten the eyelids.

Hume caught him by the wrists.

"Leave me alone--it's torture."

"Good--the powder has pierced the lids, and what you feel is the grit on
the eyeballs," and he went on sponging.  "The upper part of your face is
a colourable imitation of Klaas's."

"Jim, don't be so cruel."

"Oblige me by going to sleep, young lady.  Now for the damp moss," and,
picking out all the coarse stuff, he placed a portion over each eye, and
tied the bandage.  "Now, take this brandy, and keep quiet."  Then, in
singular contradiction to his own words, he burst out: "How the devil
did this happen?"

An hour after he sponged the eyes again, and continued at lesser
intervals throughout the morning, heedless of his patient's terrible
sufferings.

"I'll tell you what," he said, as though with a sudden inspiration,
"we'll get back to the river, and drift down to the coast on a raft; the
rest will do us all good."

"Yes," she said; "let us go quickly; I have lost all desire to see the
rock."

Sirayo's form darkened the opening.

"What!" almost shouted Webster, "are you wounded, too?"

"The people are moving down below," said the chief; "the same we fought,
and there are others gathering beyond the river.  I think they will
fight."

"Which way do the Zulus move?" asked Hume, sitting up.

"Away towards the shining place from the spot where we saw the fires
burn last night."

"Are there many of the other people?"

"Ay, they outnumber the Zulus, but they are not eager for the fight.
Maybe they have already been attacked."

"We will descend, then!"

"Descend!" asked Laura, bewildered.

"Yes; don't you see," he continued quickly, though his lips trembled at
the pain, "this is our chance?  If there is to be a fight our help may
decide the day, and instead of being opposed by the people of the
valley, they would assist us in return for our support.  Don't you see
that, Jim?"

"No, I don't.  I know nothing of the people of the valley, and it will
be folly now to continue."

"You must not," cried Laura; "you are not fit to face fresh dangers."

"I have brought you thus far," he replied doggedly, "now you must take
me down.  I swear if you do not I will not budge from here.  Let us pack
up and go while there is still light, for the day must be far advanced."

In vain they tried to persuade him, but opposition only made him the
more stubborn, and after noon they began the long and perilous descent.
Klaas, as being the most active, went ahead; Sirayo followed, then
Laura, Hume, and Webster, with rheims connecting them.  Of necessity
their advance was slow, but after they had passed over the scene of the
night's conflicts, with its stains of blood, and rounded the projecting
rock, they struck the top of a ravine, down which the way was safer,
though more difficult to traverse because of the loose shale.  From the
ledge they saw a body of Zulus marching on one side of the valley, while
beyond the river a larger body was massed inside a wide military kraal.
After many a rest they arrived safely near the bottom, and, waiting
until Klaas, who had been sent on to scout, returned with a favourable
report, they reached the valley near sunset.



CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

A STRANGE AWAKENING.

Immediately before them rose a conspicuous mound, which they believed to
be the ruins marked on the map, and though, from the fires still
smouldering near, they knew the Zulus had camped there, they rapidly
determined it was the best position for them to hold.  Quickly,
therefore, they struck across and found themselves under a broken
bush-covered wall, which surrounded an irregular mass of masonry, out of
which rose a crown of foliage.  They walked round seeking for an inlet,
and stepped off the circumference at one hundred and fifty yards.  On
the south, where the wall was intact, it rose to a height of ten feet,
and appeared to be of great thickness, and, though at other points it
was lower, there was a continuous natural fence of stiff brushwood,
showing no entrance anywhere.  They saw, too, from the ring of fires,
that the Zulus had camped quite a hundred yards from the ruins at a spot
where a spring of clear water bubbled from a belt of rushes.

"It would not be safe to camp out here," said Webster; "and if there is
no inlet to this place there is no reason why we should not climb over
the outer wall."  He very quickly mounted to the top, and, springing
down, disappeared.  "Come on," he cried presently; "there is good
shelter in here and a clean floor, in the very centre of winding
passages."

Very soon they were all on the wall, and Webster led them along a narrow
passage, which coiled round and round between heavy walls to an inner
chamber, whose floor was covered with sand.

It seemed so retired, was so silent, that in security they placed no
guard, they made no fire, neither did they talk; but stretched
themselves on the sand and slept, and the sky was blue above them when
they opened their eyes again.

Yet weariness weighed upon their lids, their limbs were heavy, and the
morning air was charged with a sweet odour that seemed to lull the
senses.

Slowly they opened their eyes, blinked at the strong light, closed them
again, without any feeling of surprise that they had slept so long, then
remained still, listening idly.  They heard, afar off, the drowsy
war-song of the Zulu warriors; but it was a sound detached from their
surroundings that no longer moved them.  They did not ask themselves
where they were nor why.  A strange relaxation of mind and body had
overcome them--the reaction possibly from the fierce impulse which had
impelled them on in face of all danger.  Constant anxiety, want of
sleep, and poor food had worn them out.  Was that the explanation of
their stupor, or did it arise from some other source--that faint and
subtle odour that recalled to Laura, at least, the swinging of a censer
in some dimly-lighted aisle?  She saw the shadowy figures of priests
moving softly to and fro, the forms of women kneeling, and involuntarily
there broke from her lips, in a tremulous whisper, the petition, "Ave
Maria."

Webster stirred, and muttered with a yawn:

"Eight bells, and my watch; a calm sea, and a bright night."

"Eh!" said Hume; "what's the matter with my eyes?  I cannot open them."

"We're bewitched!" shouted Klaas.

They sat up, and then with a cry of fear and amazement looked at each
other.  They were bound hand and foot!

Bound with the very rheims which they had used to secure their packs,
their weapons removed, and all their belongings.  And yet not one of
them had felt the slightest touch, or heard the faintest movement of
their enemies, neither was there anyone visible beyond themselves.

The room was about ten feet square, its roof opened to the sky, the
walls covered with the shining leaves and twisted tendrils of the wild
vine.

"What is the matter?" asked Hume, struggling wildly to free his hands.

"Heaven knows!" muttered Webster, staring helplessly at his bonds.

"And to be bound like this!" cried Hume, in fierce and bitter despair.
"Sirayo, what do you say?"

There were beads of sweat on the chief's forehead, for his bruised arm
had been torn from the sling and tightly bound, while his fingers
trembled with the pain.

"It is true, we have been bewitched," he said hoarsely, "for I felt no
one touch me, even though they bound my wounded arm."

"Laura, are you also bound?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Webster struggled to free himself, then rolled over until with his
fingers he could touch her cold hand.

"This is awful," muttered Hume.  "Can't you see any spoor?"

"No," growled Webster; "the sand has been kicked up, but I can see no
footmarks."

For many minutes they stared at each other with wild eyes, then making a
frantic effort, Webster rose to his feet, swayed about a moment, then,
in a series of jumps, reached the opening, where he steadied himself.
"Good heavens!" he gasped.

They all heard his cry with a feeling of something terrible impending.

"What now?" cried Hume.

"Nothing," came the faint reply, "but the tightening of the ropes;" but
when he turned, his face was ghastly white, and there was a look of
horror in his eyes.

Slowly he shuffled to his former place, then turned his head to watch
the opening, while his breath came quickly.

"You have seen something," she whispered, with her eyes fixed on the
opening.

"No," he said; "there is no one there.  Laura, can you move up against
the far end of the wall?  You will be in the shade there.  Try, please."

She slowly crept to the wall, then Hume was asked to join her, and, with
a deep groan at his weakness, he did so.  Then Webster, with a sigh of
relief, sat with his back to them, and his face to the opening, and
there came into his eyes that same look of horror.  The two warriors saw
his fixed gaze, caught, too, the fear in it, and their eyes were
fastened on the opening.

"Why don't you talk," said Hume, "and tell me what you see; the size of
the room, its appearance, anything to relieve this darkness and
suspense."

"Be still," muttered Webster, in hollow tones.

Hume suppressed the fierce retort that rose to his lips, and the others
sat staring at the opening, finding in this new suggestion of unknown
danger a fear which quenched the speculation about the mysterious nature
of their bondage.  So they sat on, while from beyond there came to them
a confused sound of shouting, while the sunlight streamed in in a white
light, and the broad leaves of the vine rustled softly, and imagination
working on their fears kept their senses on the rack.  The air grew
closer, their lips were parched, and the sweet odour in the heavy air
oppressed their breathing.

"Speak," whispered Laura, moistening her lips.

"Yes, for God's sake break this silence!  It is worse than death;" and
Hume rolled impatiently from side to side.

"Yes," muttered Webster; "it is terrible, this waiting.  Shall we talk
of the Golden Rock?"

"No, no," she cried, with a shudder.

"I remember once," he resumed slowly, "when on the sea--shall I ever
feel the touch of the salt breeze again?--the look-out reported the
sea-serpent ahead, and, sure enough, we saw the gleaming curves of his
body.  I recall well how we all grouped forward till the captain gruffly
dusted us for a lot of swabs, though he himself had kept his eye glued
to his glass.  The sea-serpent proved to be a floating mast with a
trailing mass of rope and a dead body caught in the raffle."

Laura laughed hysterically.

"A pleasant story," said Hume savagely.

"Man, I can't think of a joke; my brain revolts from the effort.  Why
were serpents created footless, stealthy, lidless, implacable--the
living embodiment of cunning, their very presence--" He stopped short,
and the hairs of his moustache bristled.  "It comes," he whispered.
"There! there!"

Spellbound, they gazed at something that flickered in the opening at a
height of about three feet from the ground, something strange, black,
supple, that quivered in the air like a thin flame of fire,
insignificant in size, yet suggestive in its lightning play of something
terrible.  Scarcely breathing, they waited for what was to follow, and
in a moment found themselves looking into the unwinking eyes of a huge
serpent.  The long head and about two feet of the muscular neck alone
showed, held high above the ground, and remaining there fixed as if cast
in bronze.  The sunlight pouring on the large scales made them glow like
bits of burnished metal in tints of blue and yellow, while a greenish
light smouldered in the unwinking eyes.  In the actual size of the head
there was nothing alarming.  It was no bigger than a man's hand, with
the thumb bent in, the fingers extended, and the knuckles arched, while
the neck was no thicker than a man's wrist.  A strong man might grasp it
by the neck and strangle it--so Webster thought--but the eyes--ah! in
their fixed, impenetrable stare, there was the suggestion of unknown
power and mysterious force.  Suddenly the forked tongue darted out from
the aperture in the grim jaws, quivered rapidly, and then the head was
withdrawn.

"Thank God!" murmured Webster.

With a faint cry, Laura fainted away, and was mercifully spared the
fresh trial.

"Ah! heavens!  Again!" whispered Webster, while, with an awful cry, the
Gaika wriggled back to the far end of the room, and turned his face to
the wall.

Suddenly the snake darted its head along the floor, and the body poured
in with a swift and silent motion, the muscles standing out in a ridge
along its swelling bulk.  Half-way it reached across the floor in that
swift dart; then its head and neck curved back, and the body was bent
like a huge S to permit the fatal strike at its destined victim.

"I can feel there is something awful in the room," said Hume, in hollow
tones; "tell me what!"

Webster gulped down a lump in his throat.  "A snake!" he gasped, and his
eyes, wild and starting, were held as in a spell.  He was the nearer,
for Sirayo had shrunk against the wall at the side.  This thing he felt
could only take one.  He was to be that one.  Well, all right; he would
not see Laura die.

Then he went through an ordeal that nearly shook his reason.  The snake
moved its head from side to side, and his head moved also.  The tongue
darted out, and his lips quivered.  The head was suddenly uplifted, and
he staggered to his feet.  He began to laugh--foolishly--and his
features twitched horribly.  His body swayed to and fro, and, with an
inarticulate cry he fell forward, his outstretched hands striking
against the cold scales.  With a loud hiss the reptile darted forward
till its head rested on Laura's insensible body, and its coils gathered
upon Webster's.  So it remained a minute, then the head was reared
against the wall, the leaves rustled to the strange, flowing movement of
the heavy coils, the tail presently slithered over the sand, went up the
wall, and disappeared.

Sirayo followed it with bloodshot eyes, looked a moment at the entrance
to see if some new horror were in store, looked at the motionless
figures about him, then shouted in Zulu: "It is gone; wake up!"

As if in response to his shout, a low music broke out, thin and
monotonous, the strains from a native bow, and gradually, as each one of
the helpless band revived, they listened with intense relief to these
signs of human presence.  In the grim silence of that room they had
begun to think that there was something magical in the manner of their
capture, and they would have welcomed any foe in human form rather than
think of another visit from the python.

The monotonous strain rose and fell on the heavy air, a sickly vapour
sifted in through the cracks in the wall, suspense gave way before the
torture of thirst which suddenly assailed them, and Klaas shouted out to
the unseen foes to come and kill him.  The music rose to a wail as if in
mockery, then receded, grew fainter, died away, was heard again from
another point, grew nearer, retreated again, until even Sirayo's iron
nerves broke down under the irritation as he shouted hoarsely.

Suddenly, without sound or notice, the passage was darkened by the form
of an old woman, black and withered.  She looked at the prostrate
captives with a mingling of fear and rage, but they looked not at her,
but at a calabash poised on her head, on which glittered a few precious
drops of water.  Was this to be another mode of torture?  No, she moved
timidly forward, lifted her calabash from her head, while they followed
her movements with glittering eyes, then shot a cooling stream into each
mouth gaping wide to receive it.  Then the old witch stood there talking
passionately, stretching her skinny arms, pointing now to the passage,
then at the broad trail of the python.

"Silence," said Sirayo, "bring someone here who can listen as well as
talk."

She shook her lean hand in his face until the bones cracked, then
shuffled out, still shrilly grumbling.

"I am past all feeling of curiosity," groaned Webster, as his eyes
shifted uneasily round the room; "but I should like to know two things:
why that old woman has been cursing us after giving us water, and what
became of the snake."  He turned his head to scan the wall.  "I have a
strange feeling in my bones," he said with a shudder, "that those evil
eyes are still fixed upon me!"

Laura shuddered, too, violently, and her dark eyes, looking unnaturally
large and bright, glanced about restlessly.  "I hope this will soon
end," she whispered.

"Good God!" groaned Hume; "if I could only see!"

They lapsed once more into silence, and listened again to the wailing of
the native instrument, heard a sudden outbreak, the sharp crack of
rifles, the shouts of men, the wild din of battle.



CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

DEFENDING THE PASSAGE.

Unmistakably the sounds of battle.  The small Zulu force of marauders
must have come into collision with the people of the valley.  It had
happened as Hume had said, up to a certain point; but that point left
them very far short of the possibility of taking advantage of the fight.
Whether the Zulus conquered or were defeated, the result could matter
little to the prisoners in the ruined chamber.

They heard, without hope as without fear, the roar of the distant
fighting, but what affected them keenly was the wailing of the native
music, which all along continued to send forth its monotonous cry.  They
could not understand what was meant by this persistent sound, having in
it a wild note of appeal, but they felt it had a closer bearing on their
lives than the din of battle.

Presently, however, they became aware that the fight was coming nearer.
They heard shrill whistling, the occasional sharp crack of a rifle, the
deep shouts of individual warriors, and the loud, continuous roar of
conflict.

It was evident that one party must be in retreat, but fighting
stubbornly.

"The Zulus are getting the worst of it," muttered Hume.

"If we were only free!" growled Webster, and he made a violent struggle
to release his hands.

"The shouts of victory," said Sirayo, "are from the Zulus."

"The fight is coming this way rapidly.  The retreating party will surely
make a stand in these ruins, and then--"

"And then we'll be put out of our misery."

Louder and fiercer grew the shouts; but through it all pierced the thin
music, and it, too, came nearer, shrill and despairing--now nearer,
until the musician himself appeared at the door--a wild figure tricked
out with bones and teeth, feathers, and whisps of hair.  He stood there
glaring at them a minute like a wild beast; then dashing his reed
instrument to the ground with a yell of rage, he grasped a small
battle-axe that hung from his waist, and flourishing it about, poured
out a flood of denunciation, exactly as the old woman had done.

"Good heavens above," growled Webster, "to be sworn at by a thing like
that."

There came a wild yell of terror from beyond the walls, a cry several
times repeated, there was a rush of many feet, and the triumphant shout
of victory from the pursuers.

"Yoh!" said Sirayo, while a sudden light leapt to his eyes.

The musician was also affected.  His eyes rolled, his lips foamed, and
with a scream he rushed forward.

"Hold!" shouted Sirayo in Zulu.

The man stood with his axe poised and glared at the chief.

"You have lost your familiar, your protecting spirit, the great snake!"

The native gnashed his teeth and howled in his fury: "Killed!  They have
slain it, and now our nation is doomed; but you who caused this shall
not escape."

"Fool!  Would you destroy your friends?  The snake itself fled, though
we were bound, because our fetish is more powerful."

The native dropped his arm, and looked half terrified at the eyes that
were fixed upon him by the silent and helpless group.

There was a sound of men climbing the wall, of metal striking against
the rocks, of the Zulu war-shout, ringing loud above the despairing
cries of their defeated foes.

"Release us, dog, before it is too late!" cried Sirayo hoarsely, while
the blood, rushing to his eyes, gave them an awful appearance, as he
glared at the now cowed native.

A man appeared at the door panting, streaming with blood, a broken
feather drooping from his hair.  He staggered into the room, and, as he
advanced, the first native grovelled at his feet, sobbing.

Sirayo thrust out his hands, calling out: "Cut these; the Zulus are our
enemies."

The new-comer brushed his hand across his brow and flicked the blood
from his fingers.

"Who are you?"

"A chief, like you.  Quick--cut; we can save you."

There was a fall of stones, the Zulu cry rose within the walls.  The
wounded man, stooping, severed the tough rheims with the sharp blade of
his stabbing assegai, then drew it across the thongs about the ankles.

Sirayo paused a moment to rub his arms, then, rising up, snatched the
battle-axe from the still grovelling native and reached the door.  A
moment later the blade descended with a crashing blow upon the head of a
Zulu who was rushing in.  Stooping, he snatched the shield from the dead
man, and forced his wounded arm through the band.  Up the narrow
passage, with eyes gleaming, with a low moaning noise, came a second
Zulu.  Without a pause he rushed forward, stepped, unheeding, on the
quivering body, then bounded at Sirayo.  The fierce onset drove the
giant warrior back a few feet, but his shield received the thrust, then
he struck so fiercely that the blade remained fixed in the skull, and
the handle was torn from his grasp by the fall of the stricken man.

"Mawoh, oh chief, a stroke for an ox!" came from behind, and Sirayo saw
the Gaika at his side.

"There is not room for two," said the chief, as with his toes he grasped
the haft of an assegai and lifted it to his hand.  "See to the others."

"They are free, but they cannot yet stand, their flesh being too soft,
and not of iron, like yours."  The Gaika stooped and pulled the
battle-axe from the skull.

"Give me room," growled Sirayo, and Klaas, looking under the chief's
arm, saw three Zulus standing in the passage.  He drew back a step, and
rubbing his hand in the sand, took a firmer grip of the handle.

The Zulus stood awhile, with their nostrils quivering at the scent of
blood, and their eyes gleaming with satisfaction to think that one of
the fugitives had courage to face them.  They did not know it was a
warrior from the famous fighting stock of their own nation; but they
feared nothing now.

"To the good death!" cried the first man, and advanced alone, pausing to
roll the dead body against the wall.  Then he balanced a throwing
assegai, and launched it.  The narrow blade struck Sirayo's shield full,
passed through the tough hide, pierced the forearm of the chief, and
struck against his ribs.

"A good throw," said the chief, and bounding forward, drove in his
assegai under his opponent's arm before he could raise his shield.  The
warrior reeled--then sunk to the ground.

"To the good death!" cried the second Zulu, bounding forward at once,
and hurling himself on Sirayo; he grasped the haft of the assegai that
still protruded from the shield, and pushed fiercely at it.  The chief
slipped and fell backwards, and with a hoarse shout of triumph the enemy
lifted his arm to plunge his weapon into the broad and naked breast.
With an answering shout the Gaika hurled his battle-axe.  It struck the
Zulu on the temple and flew high into the air.  The man himself fell
with his hands outspread upon Sirayo, and before the chief could
struggle to his feet the third Zulu, whirling a heavy knob-kerrie,
rushed to avenge the death of his comrades.  Sirayo, by a herculean
effort, raised the dead body as a shield, warding off the furious blow,
then, seizing his assailant by the leg, he hurled him against the wall,
when the warrior, shaken by the grim and blood-stained figure that rose
to confront him, turned and fled with a cry of "Sirayo."  Each separate
duel had followed with breathless rapidity, and the chief, exhausted by
his morning's fast and suffering from the second wound in his left arm,
leant dizzy and faint against the wall, his lips still curling from his
white teeth.

The desperate struggle could not be renewed by him if the Zulus
returned, and at any moment a fresh string of them might appear.
Already there were eager shouts as the escaped warrior spread the news
of the presence of Sirayo.  Well they knew him from the fight at the
waggon; and they would esteem it an honour to vanquish him.  Mingled,
too, with the cries of his name were the names of his white companions
and of the white lady.  What would be her fate when they triumphed, as
in the end they must?

"By the Lord, has a single man done this?"  It was Webster who spoke.
He had heard the conflict, had seen the first blow given by Sirayo, and
had rubbed fiercely to bring back the blood to his numbed limbs.

"They will come," said Sirayo, speaking slowly; "I will hold them for a
time.  When I fall be ready to take my place.  The inkosikasi, does she
live?"

"Yes," said Webster, with his eyes brightening at the unyielding courage
of the savage warrior.

"Give her an assegai," he said, and put the point of his blood-stained
blade to his throat.

Webster shuddered at the fearful significance of the gesture, then
picked up an assegai, and stood waiting with the Gaika to bar the
passage.

There was a cry from Laura.  "Come," she said, "quick!"

Webster turned with a roar, expecting to face the foe; but he stood
amazed to see the native who had so opportunely arrived to cut their
bands disappearing through a hole in the wall.  Laura stood by, holding
Hume by the hand, while with the disengaged hand she pointed at the
hole.

"A refuge," she whispered; "a hiding-place."

"Hold the passage a minute, Sirayo," he cried, then ran to her, and
looked through into a dark cavern.  "Is it safe?" he asked.

"Yes," said Hume; "but I have lost half my perception with the loss of
sight; there is some sort of cave here, I think.  The man told me he had
run here for shelter."

There was a shout from beyond.

Laura struggled through; then Webster lifted Hume, and almost shot him
in.  "Klaas, come!"

The Gaika looked along the passage and hesitated.  Webster ran, caught
him by the neck, and jammed his head in the hole, then shoved him
through by main force.

"Jim, come in!" cried Laura.

He was already advancing to the passage, but he turned.  "I cannot,
Laura.  Sirayo must come too;" and he rushed away to join the chief, who
stood astride the passage eyeing a fresh body of the enemy, whose
glaring eyes and quivering nostrils met the view above the striped
shields.

Two men stood shoulder to shoulder, their shields before them, and two
behind held their bucklers above the heads of those in advance.

"Now!" they cried, "together!" and advancing in a solid mass, by their
sheer weight pushed back their two opponents into the open room; but
beyond the opening the two would not budge.

Webster drove his fist full in the face of the foremost native, who
fell, stunned, against the men behind, and in the opening made Sirayo
plunged his assegai.  Then the two of them struck and thrust furiously,
while the Zulus in front, who could not use their hands, cried to those
behind to give them room, but the latter, scenting blood, pressed on the
more fiercely, till at last they forced their way and, by their impetus,
fell headlong into the room.  Webster and the chief sprang aside a
moment, and then dashed among their foes before they could rally; and
the desperate rush they made, and their great strength exerted to the
utmost in each swift blow, combined with the fierce war-shout and
terrible vigour of the great Zulu, produced a panic.  The injured men at
first ran crying out, and then the survivors fled, leaving the two alone
with a few writhing figures.  Then they struggled, all blood-stained and
panting, through the hole to the hiding-place, and the stone was
replaced.



CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

THE CHIEF'S PLAN.

They had entered a narrow chamber, into which the light streamed through
numerous cracks, in volume sufficient to bring every object into dim
relief.  For several minutes the little band, snatched from certain
death at the last moment, stood anxiously listening for the movements of
their enemies, scarcely daring to hope that their hiding-place would not
be immediately detected; then, with a sigh of relief, they grasped each
other's hands and peered about them.

At one corner of the room was the old woman who had first visited them,
mixing something in a stone dish; near her crouched the witch-doctor,
with his head bent in a state of utter dejection, while, with his back
to the wall and his eyes fixed upon the woman, leant the warrior whose
prompt action had so timely released the captives.  Sirayo was seated on
the floor, with the Gaika endeavouring to stanch the blood that still
trickled down his arm.  Hume stood with his hands to his eyes, having
torn off the bandage, which, in its sun-dried state, had increased his
torture, his face looking haggard and white.  As her eyes, growing
accustomed to the darkness, dwelt upon his pathetic action, and noticed
the signs of suffering in his face, Laura realised what he must have
endured through the long hours of darkness.  She moved to his side, and
gently took his arm, the tears gathering in her eyes.

The old woman rose up, washed away the blood from the wounds of the
warrior of her own race, then anointed them with the preparation on
which she had been engaged, and over the wounds so treated laid a thin
leaf peeled from a large bulbous root.  The man turned away, and took a
deep draught of water from a calabash, the gurgling noise breaking
strangely on the silence.

Sirayo stood up, and thrust his arm before the old woman, and she,
without a word, busied herself with it, probing it with her skinny
fingers to feel if the bones were broken, and giving a satisfied grunt
when she found it was sound.  Moving the limb under a stream of
sunlight, and bidding Klaas support it, she washed out the wound, then
brought the gaping ends together, and stitched them with a dried thorn
of mimosa and sinews.  She spread ointment on the wound, and bound the
arm up with a curious fragment cut from a long strip stretched along the
wall.  With the same material she made a sling for his arm, then, with a
dry chuckle, dismissed him, and cast a questioning gaze at the others.

Seeing, from the expression of Hume's face, that he was the only other
needing her attention, she stepped to his side, drew his hand away, and
with glittering eyes peered into his mutilated face.  Then, roughly
pushing Laura aside, she drew him to the light and again scrutinised
him, while the others looked on in silence, subdued by the confidence in
her own power of this old and withered savage.

She whispered to the crouching witch-doctor, and he submissively brought
her first a calabash of water, with which she moistened the blackened
and inflamed lids, then some vegetable, which she began to chew with her
almost toothless gums, making awful grimaces.  Then, taking the
masticated pulp, she spread it over the lids, stretched on them leaves
from the bulb, and with the handkerchief made a bandage.

Hume had submitted with a strange patience, and, now that the operation
was over, stood with his face in the light.

Laura stole to his side again.  "Do you feel any relief?" she murmured.

"Hush," whispered Webster.

They listened, and heard a sharp exclamation outside.  Those who stood
near the wall peeped through the crack, and saw a Zulu standing in the
centre of the vacated chamber, looking around him curiously at the signs
of the struggle.

There was a fierce hiss, and the Zulu, with a cry of alarm, darted off,
while the old woman opened wide her mouth in a silent laugh, and cracked
her fingers.  She it was who had made this noise.

They heard a noise of men leaping to the ground, and a distant shouting,
gradually sinking to a confused murmur.

"They have gone," said Sirayo.  "Old mother, have you any food?"

The old dame responded not very amiably, but at an authoritative order
from her own chief she disappeared through a narrow opening, hitherto--
hidden in the gloom, into another apartment, while, at the prospect of
food, the men brightened up.  A man may soon become indifferent to
danger, but peril never deadens the edge of hunger, so that many a man
condemned to death has breakfasted heartily a few minutes before the
hour set for his execution.  The fare laid before them was not tempting,
but they ate the food ravenously and felt the better for it.  Laura
retired into the other compartment, after somewhat timidly eyeing the
old woman, and the strange crone followed her, mumbling and smiling, as
well as her toothless gums would permit, at this new type of feminine
beauty.  The natives prepared to sleep, that appearing to them the most
natural alternative, but the developed nerves of the civilised white
rebelled against such indulgence at such a time.  Hume leant against the
wall with his arms folded, putting a few whispered questions to Webster,
who restlessly moved up and down, as though pacing the bridge.

"I want to get out of this place," he growled.  "It isn't natural--it's
cramped, dark, uncanny, with the dried skin of a snake on the wall, and
in its evil-smelling corners the lurking superstition of a mysterious
and bloody past.  If we stay here we'll deserve the worst kind of
ill-luck."

"How large are these ruins?" asked Hume.

"About fifty yards across, but with a multitude of passages coiling
round the centre chamber, from which we escaped into this hole, which, I
take it, lies between the first curve of the passage and the inner
chamber."

"Then, if the Zulus, knowing we are concealed somewhere in the pile,
made a systematic search, they must find us?"

"Certainly; and knowing we were in the inner chamber they will begin
their search from that point, and discover our hiding-place at once."

"Would it not be best, then, to find out what the Zulus are about?"

"Good; anything to get out of this place.  I'd better get out the way I
squeezed in.  Where's the port-hole--the loose stone?"

"Stop; Jim, you must not go; you're too clumsy for this work.  Klaas!"

"Sieur!"

"We are in great danger here.  To get free we need the help of a brave
man, a man who can move softly, and use his eyes and ears well.  You are
he."

"Eweh, Inkose, I am that man."

"You will get out of this place, and, keeping yourself concealed, see
where the Zulus are and what they do."

"I will do it," and he fixed the point of his assegai in a crack in the
wall where the movable stone was fixed.

"Stay," said Hume; "I have been thinking.  There must be another outlet.
The woman was here when we entered; I heard her voice.  She must have
crept in by another way after bringing us water when we were bound."

"I never thought of that," muttered Webster.

Klaas spoke a word to the witch-doctor, and, at the sullen reply,
removed a strip of hide in a corner, slipped through a hole, and
disappeared.

There was an exclamation from Laura, and she came swiftly in, holding
one of the rifles.  "Look," she said, "I have found all our guns and
belongings."

Webster caught the rifle and opened the breech.  "Loaded!  Ah, now we're
all right."

Hume sighed heavily.

"Do your eyes pain you still?" she asked gently.

"No; I was thinking of my rifle.  If I could only see a little--a very
little."

She looked into his face, and, with a curious thrill, saw that the tears
were streaming down his cheeks.  She took his hand and patted it.

"I am not weeping," he said, with a ghost of a smile, "but the treatment
of the old woman makes my eyes water."

"Thank God," said Webster fervently; and he grasped Hume's disengaged
hand in a warm pressure.

"What do you mean?" asked Frank hoarsely, while his hand tightened in a
convulsive grasp on Laura's fingers.

"I mean that your eyesight will be restored.  I saw a similar recovery
on the _Barracouta_, and I remember the surgeon's joy when he saw the
water run from the powder-burnt eyes of the patient."

"I cannot see yet," muttered Hume, as he raised his fingers to the
bandage.

"Nay, man, wait a little longer; you are in the hands of the old woman,
and must trust the cure to her.  But, believe me, Frank, you will see
the sight on your rifle when the Zulus come again."

"And the sunlight and the trees," he whispered.

"Which," Laura said, "would you like to see first?"

"Well," he said, "I would like very much to see my feet, for they appear
now not to belong to me, and then one look round the horizon.  But the
idea frightens me," and he leant against the wall again with folded
arms, while Webster paced to and fro, and Laura stood looking at the
quiet figure and the three natives, dimly outlined on the floor.

Suddenly the shafts of sunlight that streamed through the lower cracks
were cut off, and the black line of shadow crept steadily up the wall,
until the narrow cell was faintly illumined by one broad stream only,
and this they watched slowly fade away, leaving them in impenetrable
gloom.

"It is very still," muttered Hume.

"Yes," said Webster; "it is oppressive.  I suppose the night is upon us,
but the light has been turned off as though it had been under command.
We must not stay here; it would be folly--madness."

There came a sound of shuffling, and the voice of Klaas, sounding
hollow, called out:

"Are you there?"

"What have you seen?"

"Ah, it was so still I thought you had been swallowed up.  The Zulus are
in three parties; one has marched up the valley, another is by the
river, and the rest stay near here, where they were encamped before."

"Are they keeping watch over the ruins?"

"Neh, sieur, I think they fear the stones and the things in them at
night."

"Then let us get out of this," said Webster.

"Wait awhile," said Hume, for an animated discussion had sprung up
between the natives, and he was listening intently.  The strange chief
was evidently emphasising some point with great earnestness, and the
smack of his fingers into the open palm marked off each point.

"Does he think the Zulus are determined to find us?" asked Hume.

"Oh, ay," said Sirayo; "yoh, I have no more snuff.  They will attack
to-morrow, and if they do not succeed the others will come to their
help.  But they do not seek us!"

"They do not seek us?"

"So the chief says.  They came here in search of riches stored below,"
and the thud of his assegai was heard as it struck the floor.  "They
find us here.  It is the worse for us--but they do not seek us.  So says
the chief."

"Is there such a treasure?"

"No chief would tell where the grain pit is dug in the kraal, or if it
were full of grain.  But the Zulus do not hunt on a cold spoor.  If they
come after riches, who will say they are not here?"

"But who told the Zulus of the store?  They were encamped here before,
and did not enter the ruins."

Sirayo repeated this, and the chief, with an angry exclamation, poured
out a volume of excited words.

"He says the secret must have been told them by one of the witch-doctors
who lived here, and who alone knew of it with the chiefs."

There was a noise in the room of someone moving.  Laura cried out that
something had brushed against her, and there was a scraping, followed by
a rush of cold wind.

Each grasped a weapon, and deep silence ensued as they listened; then
Webster struck a match, and, as the feeble light spread, they followed
its path through the blackness.

"Yoh!" exclaimed Klaas, whose eyes gleamed as they rolled, "the
_umtagati_ (witch-doctor) has gone," and he thrust his assegai through
an opening in the wall opposite to the gap through which they had
entered.

The match went out, and the stranger chief gave a sharp exclamation.

"What the devil is in the wind now?" demanded Webster impatiently.

"Treachery," said Hume.  "Was that the informer?" he asked in Zulu.

"Eweh," said Sirayo fiercely; "my fingers itched to grasp him by the
throat as he sat there like an evil toad through the afternoon.  He is
one of those who knew the secret, so says Umkomaas, the chief, and he
must have given the word to the Zulus last night."

"And now he will go straight to them, tell them where we are, and that
half of us are wounded."

"Eweh, he will do that."

"For Heaven's sake," said Webster, "give me the bearings of this
matter."

Hume explained.

Webster laughed fiercely.

"We've missed port again, but I'm hanged if I weigh anchor now."

"A few minutes ago you were anxious to get away from here."

"Look here, Frank, we are after a treasure.  There's no doubt we've been
mad to push on; but if there is a treasure here we would be mad to give
it up.  What do you think yourself?"

"Leave me out of the question; let Laura decide."

Sirayo's deep voice interposed.

"The chief Umkomaas has a plan."

"Wait awhile, Laura.  What is this plan?"

"He says it would be no good to leave this place unless you take the
backward path up the mountain, for on the plain you would be seen and
attacked in the open.  This is a strong place, and the only place that a
few men can hold.  The Zulus will attack in the morning after they have
eaten.  You will hold them off till the sun is high.  To-night one of us
will leave, cross the river, and gather the people to fall on the Zulus.
He cannot go, for his hurts are deep; neither a white man, for the
people would not follow him; neither the Gaika, for he is not of their
race.  It is I who will go.  Soh!  That is the plan, and it is good."

Hume interpreted, and Webster banged his clenched hand into the open
palm.

"Splendid!" he cried.

"Now, Laura, the decision remains with you."

"I am tired," she said in low tones.  "I could not climb the mountain if
we retreated.  Let us stay."

Hume sighed, and laid his hand upon hers.

"What we decide to do must be done quickly," said Sirayo.

"If you find your way to the people, Sirayo, will they not turn upon
you?"

"The chief has given me the word and a sign.  They will follow Sirayo,"
said the chief proudly.

"Then let it be as you wish."

"I will go," said the chief, rising; "I must swim the river, and though
the way is not far, it will be longer than if I had both arms.  But when
the shadow is small at your feet you will hear Sirayo's war-cry."

Without another word he passed from the room by the way Klaas had taken.



CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

SIRAYO'S MISSION.

After climbing through the hole, Sirayo found himself in a passage so
narrow that his broad shoulders jammed, and he was obliged to edge along
sideways, and so dark that he had to feel his way with his toes.  It
bent sharply to the left, and after he had shuffled on about twenty
paces he found an opening above, and mounting on projecting stones,
reached the top of the wall, from which he dropped into the open
passage.  This coiled round and round in widening circles until at last
he stood on the outermost fringe, from which he saw the light of Zulu
fires about two hundred yards distant.  Creeping round the wall to the
opposite side, he saw, far off, the gleam of camp fires straight ahead
in the direction of the Golden Rock, and then to the left, towards the
river, the lights of still another encampment.

The stars shone brilliantly out of the black sky, the air was cool and
refreshing.  He drew a long breath, looked back at the dark pile, so
much like a mound of the dead that he almost shuddered, then sprang
lightly to the ground, paused awhile, listening, and silently slipped
away in the direction of the river, straight towards the Zulu fires.

He heard the distant lowing of cattle complaining at being hurriedly
driven in the night, the sharp yelping of dogs, the angry muttering of a
war-song chanted by deep throats.  They were sounds familiar to his ear.
They told of war and victory, of premeditated riot in the morning, of a
frightened people deserting their kraals in the night with such of their
goods and their cattle as they could hastily collect, of terrified
children and wailing women, of men who had lost heart.  He knew them
well.  Often in his daring youth and stormy manhood he had burst upon
some peaceful village slumbering amid waving fields of maize, and seen
the scattered survivors flying to the woods or rocky retreats in a
neighbouring krantz.  Like a hurricane he had swept over the land,
leaving desolation in his track; and the wailing of innumerable women
widowed by his terrible regiment, the quavering cry of children made
fatherless by him, seemed to mingle with that tremulous cry that came on
the night air from beyond the river.  His iron soul stirred under these
blood-stained memories at the thought that now, in his grim age, the
last of his band, an outcast, without authority or possessions beyond
the assegai in his hand, he was hurrying to the relief of the helpless.
He strode on faster over the level plain, his nostrils expanding, his
tireless sinews stiffening until his gait was as clean and springy
almost as in his youth, when he led his victorious warriors to the
fight.

The reflection before him shone in a ring of fire, then as he rapidly
advanced this split up into separate flames, and he slackened his speed
to approach stealthily.  There were ten fires, and in a circle about
each there squatted ten warriors, some of them chattering as they ate,
others flinging their war-cry across the river, telling what they would
do in the morning.  Little did they dream in their confidence of the
dreaded enemy whose fierce eyes took note of their numbers, and who,
slipping away to the right, turned his steps to the river.

He stood on the high bank, listening to its soft, mysterious murmur,
trying to pierce the gloom on the further bank, and unshaken by the
eye-like reflections of the brighter stars, through which Icanti, the
spirit of the river, looks out upon the venturous mortal, seeking to
draw him into the clutch of the waters.  At a spot where the bank was
low he went down to the water, felt the depth with his assegai, then
gently slipping in, so that he made no sound to disturb a lurking
crocodile, he waded until the cold waters mounted to his chin, when he
fixed his assegai in his waistband, and struck out with his right arm.
A few strokes he made, until with his toe he touched the bottom again,
then struggled on to the bank, reached the top, and all wet as he was
ran in the direction of a confused noise.

His way was soon barred by the thorn fences to the cultivated lands, in
which he could hear some stray cattle munching at the forbidden food,
but with unerring instinct he found a footpath, and passed through
several kraals, deserted by everything save a few curs, which yelped at
his heels before returning to forage in the abandoned huts.  Then he
came up with a string of old people, feebly struggling along, who stood
still to look after him with bleared eyes, and next upon a band of
women, swinging along under great bundles borne on their heads.  At the
sight of this glistening figure at their side, that had come without
warning, and of his head-ring, sign of the dreaded Zulu, they threw down
their bundles and ran shrieking away, while at the noise young children
ahead cried out shrilly, communicating the alarm to the men who were in
advance driving the cattle.

The men called to each other, and the rush of their feet could be heard.

"What is it?" they shouted.

"We know not," said a boy's clear voice; "but our mothers cried that the
Zulus were upon us.  Give me an assegai.  I will fight, too."

"Run, my child, run!" called out a woman's voice.

"Stand where you are, and I will do you no harm;" and as the deep voice
rolled above the noise there was immediate silence.  "Soh!  Let your
chief Induna come forward; I have a message."

"Do not heed him," cried the woman; "he will slay you."

"There is but one," cried another, "kill him; nay, let us tear him to
pieces."

"Stop, or by the bones of Chaka I will beat you till you cry for mercy.
Let the boy who spoke advance.  Come."

"My son, my son, do not heed."

"Nay, I will go, since I am chief;" and there came to the great Zulu a
stripling, with his eyes gleaming, and the hand that held the assegai
thrown back.  "You speak to us as though we were dogs!  Who are you?"

Sirayo's eyes rested on the boy, then glanced around.

"Tell your men to keep back.  I hear them stealing through the grass
like snakes."

The boy turned, and called to the men to keep back.

"Good!  You will be a chief some day."

"I am a chief now," said the boy proudly, "since my father is killed."

A strange light leapt from Sirayo's eyes.  "Take that, O chief, and tell
me what it is!" and he held out something, after sticking the point of
his assegai in the ground.

The boy looked at the gigantic figure before him, then snatched the
thing, and held it close to his eyes.

"It is the war-plume of my father--Umkomaas."

"Yebo.  He lives; but he is in danger, and if you would save him you
must obey me.  Say that to the people."

The boy turned instantly and shouted the message, whereupon the women
came forward, while the men talked.

"How do we know this is true?" asked an old man suspiciously.

"You know by the plume, by the word that your chief lies in the old
place of stones, by the wound I received in his defence, by the sign of
the snakeskin round my arm.  I have said enough.  Let those who obey the
chief Umkomaas stand on this side."

Sirayo, beginning suavely, ended by ringing out in a stern command, and,
quelled by the authority in his tone, a few of the young men ranged up
behind him.

"What means this, son of Umkomaas? are your warriors quicker to run than
to obey?"

There was a threatening murmur from the dark mass of men who had
gathered opposite to Sirayo and his small party.

"Who are you that we should obey?"

"Who am I?  Well do you ask, for never yet have you seen a warrior like
me.  I am he who was the first war chief of the Zulus of the south.  I
have led, I have fought, I have conquered since I was a boy like this
son of Umkomaas: I am Sirayo!"

They fell back before this name, and the women fled again; for the fame
of the great chief, spreading from tribe to tribe, had entered their
remote valley.

"Yes, I am Sirayo, and there never was a warrior yet who would not have
left all to follow him at his command.  You have heard; now, without
more words, will you obey?"

"Bayate!" they cried, and thundered on their shields--all but a few
Indunas, who would feign probe their suspicions by prolonged discussion.

"It is well.  Let there be no more thought of flight.  Your women will
return to their kraals.  The men will take their weapons and meet in the
great kraal.  Every man will take his place in his own regiment, and the
Indunas will take their proper positions.  Advance!"

Under the spell of this born leader the courage of the people returned;
the men poured on in one direction, talking excitedly, and Sirayo
followed with the young chief by his side, whose head was thrown back,
while his eyes continually turned upon his formidable companion.

In a vast semicircle within the great kraal the men drew up in something
like order, regiment on regiment, to the number of two thousand, each
regiment with shields differing in colour from those carried by the
others.

Sirayo marched through the lines, towering a head above them, and the
rows of gleaming eyes followed him, trying in the dark to decipher the
features of their new leader.  It was an impressive scene--this large
body of men, silent and waiting, drawn up under the stars within the
wide circle of huts.

Sirayo smiled grimly on returning to the head of the column, after
judging the number, to think that so large a body should dream of flying
before the small band of Zulus.

"Your enemies are few," he said; "you are many.  Why did you think of
flight?"

"They had killed our fetich, and the witch-doctors said we were doomed,"
came the response.

"They lied; they were in league with the enemy.  Which of the regiments
suffered most in the fight?"

"We of the Rock," said a young Induna proudly; "nearly half of our
brothers lie beyond, and they fell facing the foe.  I, Inyame, say it."

"The Regiment of the Rock will draw up on my right."

There was a movement, and from the mass, with active steps, a body of
about three hundred drew up.  Sirayo recognised the red and white
shields of the men who had first sided with him.

"The regiment of tried fighting men will now draw up on my left."

"It is the Regiment of the Snake," said a deep voice, and at the command
a body of about five hundred fine warriors marched to the left, giving a
booming shout as they fell into columns.

"Who leads the Regiment of the Snake?"

"I, Chanda."

"Chanda, listen!  You will at once lead your men down the river towards
the place of stones.  On the further bank you will see the fires of a
band of Zulus.  Camp over against them, singing your war-song.  In the
morning, when they retire, you will cross the river and attack them in
the rear."

"Will they retire?"

"I have said it.  Heed my words.  When they retreat you must cross and
follow.  Depart, and make much noise."

Chanda gave his orders, and the regiment, accompanied by a shrill
whistling from those who remained, filed out of the gates and went
chanting into the night, and as they sang they struck the hafts of their
assegais against their shields.

"Chanda has done well.  Let the others obey as promptly.  I want, now,
picked men from the regiments in the centre to make good the Regiment of
the Rock.  Inyami, select your men."

The young Induna advanced and touched, with his assegai, the men he
wanted, ticking them off on his fingers, until two hundred stood out and
fell in with the Regiment of the Rock.

"Son of Umkomaas, little chief with the big heart, I place you over the
men who remain in the centre.  You will sleep here, but when the sun is
up you will march quickly to the old stones where your father lies."

"Shall I not go at once, O chief?"

"Nay, do as I say.  Inyami, listen.  The largest body of Zulus lie at
the place of the shining Rock.  Is it not so?"

"It is so, great chief."

"You will lead on to the nearest drift.  We will cross the river
to-night with your regiment, and draw up before the Zulus.  There must
be no noise.  We steal like panthers on the prey--silent and hungry.  If
any man speaks so much as one word it will be his last.  Do you heed?"

"Eweh, O chief!"

"Come, then;" and placing himself beside Inyami, he led the regiment
towards the river.  The war-song of Chanda's regiment on the march came
plainly on the wind, and in response they heard the deep booming of the
Zulu chant.  The enemy recognised that some movement was afoot, though
in their confidence they never expected that their defeated foes would
dare to attack them.



CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

AT BAY!

When Sirayo left, Webster, chafing at the narrow limits of the stifling
den, knocked away the loose stone and wriggled through into the inner
chamber, where they had passed the previous night in a stupor of sodden
sleep.  The Gaika presently glided to his side, and Laura soon struggled
out to drink in the fresher air.  The two men went along the passage,
still bearing its ghastly burdens.

She leant against the rough wall, with her white face to the stars,
weary in body and mind, worn out by the unequal struggle against the
accumulating horrors and dangers, in which there was no wild dash of
romance.  She was beaten.  Her courage had lost its resolution; her
pride had been burnt out.

"Where have you gone?" asked Hume, with a touch of reproach in his
tones.

She shuddered, but did not move or speak.

"It is very dark," he muttered, as he groped about with his hands until
he came upon the opening, when he thrust his head through, moving it
helplessly from side to side.

"Don't!" she gasped; "you frighten me."

"I am sorry," he said.

"For heaven's sake!" whispered Webster as he hurried up, "keep quiet,
man.  Someone has entered, and is coming along the passage."

With a low cry, Laura placed her hands before her face.

"I will protect you!" murmured Webster passionately, and Hume silently
withdrew his head, a feeling of fierce despair at his heart.

He stood in the narrow den, hoping in his bitterness that death would
free him from his torture, when the old woman suddenly clicked with her
tongue angrily, then muttered to the wounded chief.  He rose up, and she
supported him to the hole, calling on the Gaika to help him through.
She followed, and said a few words to Klaas, who, with a stifled
exclamation, began tapping the sanded floor with the butt of his
assegai.

"What are you doing?" demanded Webster.

"Wait, sieur;" and the tapping of the assegai continued.  "This is the
place;" and Klaas with his naked foot pushed the sand away, leaving bare
a flat stone in the centre of the room.  With the point of his assegai
he prised up the stone and then started back, for there was a yawning
pit disclosed, out of which came a rush of damp and sickly air.

"Where does that lead?" asked Webster.

"I don't know, sieur.  The old woman will say."

She spoke rapidly, pointing with skinny forefinger at the pit, and
turning her gleaming eyes from face to face.

"She says we must go down," said Klaas; "but I am afraid."

"Hark!" said Laura; "I hear voices."

The old woman drew Umkomaas to the hole, then, seizing Laura by the arm,
pulled her violently forward.

"What the deuce does the old witch mean?" growled Webster impatiently.

"I think," said Klaas, "she say this is the last place of hiding; and
the Amazulus will find us if we stay here."

"Go down, then."

"Neh, sieur.  It is too dark."

"It is no blacker than a ship's hold.  Stand away;" and, dropping his
feet through, Webster lowered himself till he touched ground, when
immediately Umkomaas almost fell on top of him, and he was obliged to
catch the helpless chief and stagger back with him.

Before she could utter a word of protest, Laura was seized by wiry arms
and dropped into the pit, and the Gaika, with a grunt of anger at such
treatment of his mistress, followed her.  Then the old woman quickly
slid the stone over the opening, rapidly spread the sand above, and
stood listening.

Hume had heard the exclamations, the excited whispers, and a muffled cry
from Webster calling his name, and in the silence which suddenly cut
short this commotion he read some fresh calamity, and stood for a moment
trembling violently.  Then he groped once more to the hole, and,
thrusting his head through, called softly:

"Laura!"

No answer came to the murmur.

"Webster!" he cried, a little louder.  "Jim! are you there?"

"Ssh! be still," came a suppressed cry in the native tongue.

"I have been still too long--where are you?"

"Listen.  The men know that hiding-place.  I heard two come and retreat.
They will return in greater numbers.  Be not afraid for your people;
they are safe with Umkomaas, my chief, under the ground here;" and she
stamped with her feet.

"They are safe," he muttered--"safe, you say?  Why did they leave me?"

"You must stay there and tell the Amazulus that your people have fled."

"And then?"

"They will kill you.  Your strength has gone; it is well."

"Good heavens!" he gasped in horror; "did they know that?  No, no, no!
It is a lie.  They would not leave me.  Jim!"

"Ssh!" she hissed, then swiftly climbed the wild vine and crouched flat
on the wall.

"My God!" he cried, "my God! and is this the end, to be left in a hole,
blind, helpless, and alone?  And I lost my sight for them! would have
lost my life to save them"--he paused--"ay," he continued softly, "may
do so yet."  There was the ring of metal against stones, and he drew in
his head instinctively and grasped his rifle.  "Good!" he muttered
fiercely; "I hope there are many, so that even a blind man may strike
home."

He heard the soft sound of men brushing against the stones, heard their
exclamations of fury as they kicked against the bodies of dead Zulus,
and knew they had reached the inner chamber.

"Is this the place?" said one harshly, in Portuguese.

"This is the place, Captain," answered a deep voice that seemed familiar
to Hume.

"And where are those robbers hidden?"

"In the wall there.  See! there is the gap by which they entered."

"Hark ye," said the first man, raising his voice, and speaking in
English, "you who are hidden in there.  I will lay a train of powder and
blow the walls in upon you if you so much as lift a finger upon us.  Do
you hear?"

"I hear," said Hume sternly; "and I warn you also that I will shoot you
like the dog you are if you attempt to injure one of us."

There was a laugh, and a third man, whom Hume judged to be Lieutenant
Gobo, said: "Would it not be better to blow them in now, Captain?"

"What! and kill the girl you rave about?" said the Captain in
Portuguese.  "We'll get her first--moreover, we have no time to waste;
the people across the river may yet show fight.  Hark to their singing!
Blow them up when we have finished this job."

The deep chant of Chanda's regiment rolled from beyond.

"Now," said the man who had been addressed as Captain, "let us begin.
Ferrara, which is the entrance to this hidden treasure?  It must be in
the centre.  Where is that witch-doctor--ah, you thief of night, come
here!  Now, Ferrara, tell him to point out the place."

As the witch-doctor stepped forward, a loud hiss arrested his steps.

"What in the devil's name was that?"

"Look!" said Gobo, trembling; "there is something moving on the wall.
Is it a snake?"

"Serpent or not, here goes."  A report rang out, followed by a wild cry,
the rustling of leaves, and the fall of a heavy body.

"Carrambo!  What have we here?  A woman--a witch.  Gobo, here is your
serpent;" and the Captain laughed.  "Do you hear that, you inside?  If
you do not keep quiet you will be served in the same way."

The old woman, with a last effort, called to Hume: "Keep watch; they
look for the secret place of hiding."

"Be silent!" cried the Captain; "and, Ferrara, show us this place of
treasure, if you have not lied."

"I do not lie," replied a deep voice, "and you have done wrong to shoot
that woman.  She has given warning of our search."

"And what then?  Are we afraid of a parcel of sick men?  By the saints!
I will give them this old witch for company."

"Stay; here is the place.  Yes--see the crack!  Your knife, Captain, to
force it open."

Hume heard the scrape of the knife, the thud of the stone as it fell
back.

"Carrambo!" exclaimed the Captain.  "What a hole of night!  Who goes
down first?  I will lead.  A light--give me a light."

There was a light, a flash of red flame from the hole in the wall, as
Hume, who had listened, with nerves all quivering, fired blindly to save
his friends.

"Bayate!" gasped the old woman.  "It is well done, O Mole."

There was a sound of rushing feet, followed by a storm of curses from
the passage, where the men had rushed for shelter.  Hume drew his
revolver, and, with his arm out of the hole, fired in the direction of
the voices.

"The powder!" roared the Captain, hoarse with fury.  "Give me the
powder, and I will blow in the wall on their heads."

"Nay!" said Ferrara; "the falling stones may crush in the secret chamber
below.  Let two of us fire into the hole while the other descends."

"No, the powder!  That bullet grazed my head.  I will lay it against the
wall.  Good! here is a projecting stone.  Get back, all of you, to the
inner curve."

Hume, listening, heard the men retreat.

"Listen in there!  In one minute you will be crushed.  I have laid the
train"--there was a scratch--"I have fired it--good-bye!"

Hume stood a moment; then felt wildly for a hole, struggled through, and
as he fell free of the wall he heard the spluttering of the powder.  The
next instant he was hurled aside, and in his ears there roared the heavy
blast of the explosion, coupled with the hollow rumble of falling
stones, while the floor beneath him shook and trembled to the shock.  He
remained for a time on his face motionless, almost stunned by the noise
of the explosion and by the force with which he was flung aside.  Then,
as his senses returned, he heard a murmur of voices as though afar off--
then more clearly a man speaking:

"By the saints! that is well done.  They have had decent burial,
Captain."

"Ay, too good; now we can get to work at our ease.  But what a dust!
First let it settle; it chokes me."

Hume rallied his senses, and softly rolled over, feeling for his rifle,
which he had dropped.  Then he put his hand to his eyes, to feel that
the bandage had been torn away by the rush, of air.  With his fingers he
pushed back the lids, which by long pressure remained as though gummed
down.  With his eyes blinking at the falling dust, he sat in hopeless
darkness; then a sharp cry escaped his lips, for it seemed to him that
the darkness was not so black.  He shut his eyes tightly, then opened
them wide, and before him there was a yellow blur.  A brilliant spark
flashed through it; then it changed to a deep violet, and from his
trembling lips there leapt a cry, for he saw the looming dark walls, and
above caught the sparkle of innumerable stars.

"I can see!" he cried.  "My God!  I can see!"

"Hark!  It is one of them crying out."

"It was a fearful voice," whispered Gobo.  "The men say this place is
possessed."

Hume saw the sheen of something bright, and, with his heart beating,
softly drew his rifle to him.  He shut his eyes, and opened them with a
joy he could scarce restrain; then, gently cocking the hammer, he rose
to his feet.

"Curse this dust!" growled the Captain; "one can neither see nor hear.
But we cannot remain here like a lot of children frightened by a sound.
Come."

"Stop!" shouted Hume sternly.  "I can see you--ay, I can see you well;
and if a man moves I will shoot him."

"If you can see in this light, you have good eyes, my friend," said the
Captain, with a nervous laugh.  "But who in the devil's name are you?"

"Stand aside, Captain," whispered Gobo.

"Stand where you are," said Hume fiercely.  "Now give an account of
yourselves.  You have hunted us, keeping yourselves, like the shabbiest
curs, well out of danger; and now, when you have brought us to bay, you
have taken the last damnable measure of cowardice against us--thinking,
too, there was a lady here.  I see that third man move--by heavens!  I
will shoot."

"Be calm, my friend," said the Captain in his hoarse voice; "we do not
wish to harm you.  Now, can't you make some agreement with us?  You are
perhaps alone?"

"Thanks to you," said Hume grimly.

"Alone--one man against two hundred.  What can you do?  Just think: you
may kill one of us; but then you are yourself killed, or perhaps wounded
and given over as a plaything to the Zulus, who are like tigers because
of their friends who died."

"Well, what do you propose?" said Hume, listening to the louder cry of
Chanda's regiment, and to a confused murmur that quivered through the
fresh morning air.

"You know why we are here, as we know why you have come.  We have been
racing against each other for a hidden treasure, and you would not
accept the warnings we gave you to desist.  There are three of us; let
us sink all differences, and do you come in, taking fourth share."

"And my friends?"

"Your friends?  It was the fortune of war that--"

"War do you call it?  The better name would be murder."

"We need not split hairs," said the Captain impatiently.  "But why speak
of your friends, since they are dead?"

"You lie! they live.  The treasure is not for you.  They have already
secured it, and are in safety with the people beyond the river.  Fools!
while you slept they marched away, and Sirayo is now leading an army
against your men."

"You lie yourself, dog of an Englishman!" cried the Captain.

"Listen!"

The distant murmur increased to a hoarse roar, threatening, and nearer
rose the shouts of Zulus calling to each other.

Behind the three men in the passage were some Zulus, who had remained
silent; but now they broke out in fierce excitement, all speaking
together.

"What do they say?" shouted the Captain shrilly.

"They say there is a fight where the greatest number of our men are, and
the enemy have gathered also by the river, where our second force is
stationed.  This man speaks truly.  The people would not fight unless
they had a fresh leader, and who can that leader be but Sirayo?  But as
for the treasure, those feeble people could not have carried it away."

"Carrambo!" said Gobo, "I recognise this fellow now."

"We met before at Madeira," said Hume grimly; and as the light increased
the scowling faces of the three men stood out.

"Mother of God! what a sight!  His eyes are red and look out from a
black mask."

"He is like a devil," muttered Gobo; and, with his gun at his hip, he
pressed the trigger.

"Baleka!" cried a warrior, pushing in.  "Sirayo eats our men up by the
lone rock, and men are swarming across the river for this place."

"To the mountain!" cried Gobo, turning to fly.

"Not I!" cried the Captain furiously.

"Nor I!" said Ferrara.

And the two dashed at Hume.

He fired and the Captain fell; but Ferrara gripped him by the throat,
and the two reeled about in a fierce struggle, and in their ears, though
without conveying much meaning, there came the sound of shouting beyond
the walls.  As they stood for a spell, gasping for breath to renew the
struggle, they heard the Zulus calling to each other to fly, and Ferrara
by a terrific effort hurled Hume away, sent him staggering, to fall
heavily over the heap of fallen stones, then himself vanished into the
underground passage, a moment before the little son of Umkomaas dashed
into the ruined chamber at the head of his victorious warriors.



CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

THE UNDERGROUND CHAMBER.

Sirayo's leadership had prevailed.  He attacked the main body of the
enemy before sunrise, and the young warriors of the Rock, fired by his
ferocious courage, had withstood the desperate rush of the Zulus until
Chanda's regiment came up on the trail of the second detachment, when
the enemy, terribly thinned, took the path to the mountain wisely left
open for them.

Before the fight Sirayo had taken the long throwing assegai from Inyami
and snapped the haft across his knee within three feet of the blade.

"Do ye likewise," he said to the regiment, "and you will fight the Zulus
hand-to-hand with their own weapons, for it is by their short assegais
they have conquered."

The young warriors obeyed, and for the first time they went into a fight
without hurling their spears.

After the great fight, which left the ground about a lonely rock of
strange shape strewn with dead and dying, the women flocked to the
scene, to attend to the wounded, and Sirayo, with the remnant of his
band, marched to the ruins.  As they neared the place, the men broke out
with their song of victory--a deep-throated roar tossed to the
mountain--and the warriors about the ruins formed up to meet them,
whistling shrilly and drumming on their shields, while the boy-chief
stood before the ranks, his black eyes glittering.

"Bayate!" they thundered.  "Great is Sirayo, the big black bull, the
swooping eagle!"

The air vibrated to their shouts, and the warriors of the Rock, with the
marks of battle on them, gave an answering shout, and proclaimed Sirayo
as their chief.

If the Zulu had been a younger man, he would perhaps have seized the
opportunity and grasped the proffered honour, which would have meant
instant death to the little chief, and a fierce attack upon any
suspected of supporting him.

As it was, the chief took a pinch of snuff, while his bloodshot eyes
glared fiercely at the son of Umkomaas, standing within reach of his red
and dripping assegai.

"Do you hear, little chief?" he said in his deep tones.

"I hear, and I know.  Strike if you will."

Sirayo took from his head the broken eagle plume, and fixed it on the
head of the child.

"Behold your chief!" he cried, lifting his assegai and letting his dark
glance sweep along the ranks of excited men.  "He is a babe, but he has
the heart of a lion.  Chief, see your men; they fought like my own Zulus
of the far south.  Take thought that your heart never turns black
towards them."

Then Sirayo turned into the ruins, and found Hume wetting with his
dripping handkerchief the lips of the old woman, who lay bleeding slowly
from a wound in the breast.  The chief looked at the fallen stones and
at the prone body of the Portuguese Captain.

"What evil has happened?" he asked.

"I heard them shout your name, chief," said Hume, keeping his face bent
over the woman; "you have triumphed?"

"Yebo! it was well done, and it was a great fight.  Your eyes are no
longer dark; that is better than my victory.  Ay, it is good!  Where are
the others?"

"Down there;" and he pointed at the hole.

"Did they go before the fight, and leave you alone?"

"I could not see, and they were hurried.  They forgot me."

"Yoh!  And do they hide there like jackals?  It was not a good thing to
leave a blind man."

"They did it without thought I fear there is something dark thereunder,
chief, for a strange man, I think, has gone down.  I would have
followed, but my head was dizzy from a fall; and then I heard this old
woman crying feebly for water, and I went out to the spring.  We must go
down."

Sirayo called for men, and when a few came in with wild looks he bid
them carry the old woman to the spring and tend to her.  The men
exclaimed, when they saw Hume, and clapped their hands to their mouths,
but Sirayo sternly bid them go.

"They do not like my face," said Hume, with a bitter smile.

"They are not women, that they should be terrified at a scar received in
battle."

"Then my face would frighten a woman;" and he shuddered.  "Will you go
first, chief?"

A faint smile flickered for a second about the grim mouth of the
warrior; then he lowered himself into the hole.  "We shall need a
light," he said, and split the haft of an assegai.  They found
themselves in a narrow passage curiously arched and ribbed, which coiled
round and widened as they advanced, turning always to the left.  The
walls were polished, as if by constant friction, and where the ribs met
overhead was a well-defined ridge, or backbone, regularly articulated.
It was very still, the stagnant air heavy with a sickly odour, and twice
they paused to struggle against a feeling of dizziness; but a slight
current of air, coming with a cooling touch, freshened them, so they
were able to struggle on, through a short length where the passage
suddenly narrowed, to a large wedge-shaped chamber.

They stood peering by the flickering and waning light at some dim forms
stretched upon the floor, at two spots of light at the far end through
which the air came, at a double row of shining objects on either side
the narrow end of the wedge, and at an object in the centre from which
there came a wreath of smoke, spreading the odour that had so disturbed
them.

As Hume hesitated, with a sharp fear at his heart, one of the figures
moved, then rose up, swaying to the side for support.

"Thank God!" he cried; and at the sound of the voice the figure started
back, moved his head from side to side as though he tried in vain to
pierce the gloom behind the spark of fire, and then cried hoarsely:

"Quien es?"

"Ah, it is you!  Surrender; we are armed."

The man made no answer; but, stooping, he appeared to grope among the
prostrate forms; then with a fierce growl of satisfaction lifted one,
and by the light that filtered through the two openings they caught the
sheen of steel in his hand; they saw, too, the face of Laura, white and
deathlike.

"I will not surrender!" he said slowly; "and if I die she dies also."

"Don't!" cried Hume hoarsely.  "Give her to me, for Heaven's sake!"

"Not I," he growled, and placed her face in the stream of light, so that
Hume could see the closed eyes and white cheeks.

Hume trembled and went faint with terror.  "For mercy's sake, take her
out of this, into the fresh air."

"And what of me?"

"Ask what you like; but be quick, or it will be worse for you--I swear
it!"

"Do not threaten," said the other darkly; "I want my life!"

"Yes--yes."

"My liberty, and safe passage from the valley."

"Ay, I will see you out myself; but, for God's sake, be quick!"

"And more--a full half-share of any treasure there may be here.  I have
lived years for it, and less I will not take."

"I know nothing of any treasure; but if there is any, halt is yours--the
whole if you will hasten."

"Nay, half will do; I would not try you with the loss of the whole.  How
do I know you can dispose of it?"

Hume swore under his breath, and made a step forward.

"Stop!" cried the other, with so menacing a voice that Hume reeled back.
"You are wasting time now, and I feel her heart beats more slowly.
What claim have you to give half the treasure away?"

"I--I am captain of this party."

"Ay, but you are not the chief of the people here."

"No," said Hume quickly; "but here he is.  Sirayo!"  And he spoke
hurriedly to the chief.

"Half is his," said Sirayo.

"Good!" said the man, this time in Zulu.  "Swear it.  I think I will
trust you--since I have watched you for many nights--had your lives in
my power, but spared you."

"Then bring her out!"

"Take her yourself."

And the next minute Hume was staggering blindly, fiercely through the
dark and tortuous passage, with his precious burden.

Then the stranger overturned the burning vessel in the middle of the
room, and stamped on the smouldering herbs; next he lifted Webster's
heavy form, to stagger off with it; while Sirayo did the same for Klaas,
both returning to carry the chief, Umkomaas.  They were all taken to the
spring, shelters of rushes built over them, and a medicine man called to
attend them.  They had been all stupefied by the fumes of burning herbs,
by the same fumes which, stealing through the cracks in the floor, had
overcome them on their first night in the ruins; and the witch-doctor,
after much waste of time over muttered incantations, brought them slowly
to their senses, though they were too languid to move.

When Hume found that they had shaken off the stupor in which they were
locked, he went down to the spring and stooped to quench his burning
thirst; but he paused as he knelt, appalled by the reflection he saw in
the clear pool--the reflection of a terrible face: the eyes red,
inflamed, without eyelashes; the forehead blackened, as though covered
by a mask.  In his anxiety for Laura, in his joy at her recovery, he had
forgotten about his injury; and now this sudden revelation filled him
with horror.  He turned away from the pool with a feeling of repulsion
for himself, and went off to the now deserted ruins, where he faced this
new trouble, and all that it meant to him of ruined hopes.  With these
awful eyes of his he could not face her--no, nor mingle among his
fellows.  He remembered how the Portuguese had exclaimed at seeing his
face; and he writhed at the thought that men would start at sight of
him, and women would turn shuddering away.  A great bitterness filled
his heart, and when he thought of Webster, he ground his teeth at the
cursed chance which left him maimed, while leaving his friend free.  A
feeling of resentment towards Laura sprang up also, because she had
feared him even in the dark.

"Would to Heaven," he muttered savagely, "I had been killed!"

And he sat staring blankly at the wall before him, and suddenly there
came before him the calm face of Mr Dixon, the engineer, going to his
death, cooped up in the bowels of the _Swift_, and the stern features of
Captain Pardoe.  Then he rose with a faint smile about his lips and went
to the inner chamber, where he found Ferrara preparing a torch, while
Sirayo sat near, as calm and indifferent as though he had passed an
uneventful day.

"Are your mends better?" asked Ferrara.

"Yes," was the curt reply.  "What do you hope to find here?"

"That which has brought you to this valley, and led us upon your tracks,
and sent many of us on the longest journey of all--the love of gain."

"And what good, after all?"

"Very little good to you, my friend; but for me--I am not too old to
have one last fling after having lived the life of a savage.  Now let us
find and share."

He lit the torch and held it close to the arched roof, and the flaming
light was reflected on a double row of shining objects.  His eyes
glittered as he examined them closely.

"Ah," he muttered, "the man did not lie, then.  These are the teeth of
gold."

"Teeth," said Hume, throwing off his moody air--"teeth of what?"

"Why, of this serpent.  Have you not been through the coils?--and this
place is the head.  The temple above was reared on the coils of a
serpent, and the simple people of the valley have kept alive the old
worship in some of its forms.  These two points of light at the narrow
end are the nostrils.  But you knew of this."

"Nothing.  We came in search of the Golden Rock."

"Yes; I have seen that wondrous thing, but it was not to be carried away
bodily, while these treasures may."

And with a strong tug he wrenched one of the curved teeth from its
socket, and as it lay in the broad palm, the three heads bent over to
examine it--a finely-wrought piece of pure metal, two inches in length,
and about a quarter of a pound in weight.  There were altogether
forty-eight of these teeth, and in an hour they had all been wrenched
from the sockets which had retained them in glittering rows for many
centuries.

"My knowledge of values is rather musty.  What would you judge the worth
of these?"

"About a thousand," said Hume, after a mental calculation.

"Is that all?  Then my share will not purchase a month's enjoyment.  You
gave me half for the life of that girl, yet I had you all at my mercy,
and spared you.  Come, comrade, what say you to my taking the whole?
Remember, you offered me all."

Hume divided the yellow pile into two parts, and emptied one half into
Sirayo's skin bag.

"There! that is your share," he said sternly, and Ferrara, muttering to
himself, stored the precious burden about his person.

Hume looked curiously at the tall dark man.

"Who are you?" he asked, "and why have you followed us so closely?"

"Who am I?  Ho, ho!  I scarcely know.  Ask the Zulus; they will tell you
I am the great Witch-Doctor, whose coming and going no man knows.  Ask
the white traders--they will tell you I am the Hermit of the River.  Ask
the Portuguese--they will say I am Alfonse Ferrara, the lieutenant who
killed his captain at Delagoa Bay.  I am all these, and for twenty years
I have lived on the banks of the river, alone--alone with the running
water, the brooding trees, and the things that move in the night."

"The animals?" whispered Hume, awed by the light which smouldered in the
dark eyes opposite him.

"The animals--phaugh! they shrink at my coming.  No, no, the soft,
silent, gliding things that lurk in the shadows; that watch me looking
over their shoulders, or peeping from the shelter of rocks, or from out
the dark pool.  I want to get away from them;" and he glared round the
cavern, shuddering.

Hume shuddered too at the glimpse of madness in Ferrara's gesture.

"But why did you dog us?"

"Because I knew what you were after, and I wanted it for myself.  Years
ago I knew of the secret of this valley.  It was I who set your uncle
upon the quest, in the hope I might afterwards rob him.  I have haunted
this place, but in vain, for they kept too close a watch.  It was
necessary to have help, and before you came, I sent a message to a
Portuguese trader.  You came when my plans were ready, and if it had not
been that I mistrusted my countrymen, you would have been killed while
you slept; but if they had played me false, I would have sought your
help."

"You appeared to us as a savage," said Hume, repressing a feeling of
abhorrence.

"Yes," replied Ferrara with a mysterious air, and dropping his voice.
"You see, I have donned this clothing to deceive them--the voiceless
people who are searching for me.  If they found me"--and he looked
cautiously round--"they would drag me back to the river."

After another glance round the chamber, Hume and Sirayo withdrew,
leaving Ferrara alone, and Hume, surrendering himself again to gloomy
thoughts of his maimed face, sat on the outer coping of the wall, with
his face resting on his hand.

Long he sat there thinking whether he, too, would not do well to lead
the life of a hermit, rather than be an object of disgust to his
friends, when he heard a hoarse cry behind him, and, turning, saw
Ferrara standing with his head turned, looking back along the passage.

The strange being had stripped himself of his clothes.  His huge form
stood naked as that of a savage, his breast was heaving, the muscles of
his arms rigid, and when he turned his face it was contorted with the
passion of terror and rage.

"What in Heaven's name is it now?" cried Hume, springing to his feet.

Ferrara fixed his eyes on Hume; his lips moved, but without sound, and
he seized his throat savagely.  Then with a wild cry in Zulu of "They
come! they come!" he sprang over the wall and fled towards the mountain,
while Hume faced the passage, expecting he knew not what.  Presently he
entered cautiously, until he came once again to the underground coil
without meeting anyone; but while he stood peering down into the dark
pit, he realised that Ferrara had in the stillness of that gloomy
retreat fallen a victim to his dark fancies of the "voiceless people."



CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

THE LAST OF THE ROCK.

Laura recovered from her prostration filled with an intense longing to
get away from the savage surroundings, which had too surely left their
mark upon her spirits.  The whole enterprise had lost for her its zest,
and under the reaction which had set in she wondered how she could have
entered upon the expedition.

"Let us go," she said to Webster.  "Take me away from this.  It fills me
with disgust."

"I do not wonder," he said gloomily, running his eyes over her frayed
dress.  "You look ill; won't you rest?"

"It is not rest, but change--change from this fearful, this degrading
life--that I need."

"Degrading?"

"Yes, degrading!" she replied passionately.  "Where is Mr Hume?"

"I do not know," he said.

"Find him, then."

He rose slowly, looked at her a moment dully, then heavily moved off
towards the ruins, where after a long search he found Hume seated with
his hands over his eyes.  He waited for some time patiently, but as
Frank showed no signs of his presence he touched him on the shoulder.

"Miss Anstrade asks for you.  She wishes to return."

There was no reply.

"You must go back with her.  She is weary of this life--sick of it and
of me.  I will remain here for a time.  You hear me, don't you, Frank?
besides, it is necessary your eyes should be looked to.  Of course," he
went on patiently, "I understand how you feel.  I have seen that you
have shunned me, but God knows, my lad, I would not have left you alone
in the ruins if I could have helped it Frank, I tried to get back to
you, but I was overcome by those cursed fumes.  Do you believe it,
Frank?"

"Ay, I believe it, Jim."

"Ah!" he said with a sigh of relief.  "Now will you take her back, my
lad?  Take her away out of this, and when you are once again back among
your fellows, forget that ever I had the impudence to make a pact about
her.  Forget it, and win her."

Hume withdrew his hand from his eyes, and, rising slowly, faced his
friend, his worn face pale, his eyes burning from out that blackened
mask.

"My God!" said Webster, drawing back.  "But you can see," he muttered.

"I can see--yes," said Hume, in hollow tones.  "See how you shrink from
me.  Do you ask me now to take her back?"

Webster said nothing, but a groan shook his frame, and he caught his
friend's hand and held it.

"You don't speak?"

"The black will fade out.  It is only powder."

"Yes, and my eyebrows will grow," he said with a bitter laugh, "and the
red will disappear from my eyes; but before that she would have learnt
to dread my presence.  Do you still ask me to take her?"

"No, lad; you must not see her until you have recovered."

"Then, you must take her, and I will at once see Sirayo about your
departure.  By the way, he has our share of one part of the treasure
already found, and it will be sufficient to pay your way to Cape Town
and to take her passage."

He related what had occurred in the underground chamber.

"You will come also, of course, keeping near by day, and sharing our
camp by night?"

"You have forgotten the Golden Rock.  I will remain here."

"Impossible!  I could not leave you behind."

"I will stay."

"But what must I tell her?"

"Tell her that, as we came for the Golden Rock, it would be folly for
the whole of us to return at the very time when the natives are
friendly, and that I have remained behind in the interests of the
party."

"She will want to hear that from your own lips."

"I will see Sirayo--tell him to make arrangements for your departure,
and will leave for the rock.  If she asks for me I will not be within
call."

"It is a miserable ending," said Webster.

"Not for you," said Hume meaningly.

"Why?"

"You will have an opportunity to push your suit, and you may do so."

"Look here, Frank: I will take Miss Anstrade to Pretoria or Cape Town,
and part with her as a friend--if she is willing to call me friend--and
I will come back here to you.  How long will it take for the double
journey?"

"Three months."

"In three months, then, I will be back."

He went to the camp, and Miss Anstrade advanced quickly to meet him.

"Have you seen him?" she asked impatiently.

"Yes."

"Why, then, is he not with you?"

"He is making arrangements for our departure, and I am afraid you will
not see him--at any rate, at present."

"Why not?"

"You will remember that we came here for a certain purpose, and that,
certainly, was not to return as soon as we had arrived.  One of us is to
remain, and it is decided that I go with you."

"Oh," she said, looking haughtily at him, "is this your arrangement?"

"Yes," he answered slowly; "I made it."

"Then I decline to go with you."

"I am afraid you must."

"Where is Mr Hume?" she asked, as the blood flashed in her cheeks.

"Frank asked me to say good-bye.  He is very busy.  I told him how
important it was he should lose no time."

"Would you leave a blind man alone, and again seek the safest course
yourself, you--you coward?"

"I should have told you," he said gravely, "that Frank has recovered his
sight;" and he stood waiting for her to speak, but she turned away, and,
with a wild look around, he moved heavily down to the river, where he
stood with head sunk, watching the water.

Sirayo made arrangements that evening with the people, and next morning
a party of men with two trained oxen approached the little camp.  Laura
was persuaded to mount one of these; the kit was packed on another, and
Webster, with Klaas and five natives, moved off in the direction of the
forest for a secret path which led directly over the mountains beyond
into the Transvaal.

Hume, from the ruins, saw the little party go, and watched them across
the plain--watched them until they were out of sight, and afterwards
stood there looking towards the west with a half-formed hope that they
might return.  For now in his loneliness the bitterness and pride of his
spirit melted away.  And so, he thought, had ended their great quest,
his companions surrendering in disgust, himself filled with
disappointment, though he had reached the goal.

The Golden Rock, the golden dreams, the links of friendship, the ties of
love--where were they now?  Ah, well, there was still the rock.  He
turned from the ruins, and with Sirayo went along the right side of the
valley in search of it.  Away over the river the women moved among the
fields singing, and beyond in the great kraal the men were drinking
beer; their drinking-song had gone droning on through the night, and was
still coming in snatches.

"They sing loud and drink deep," said Sirayo; "to-day they will slay
whole armies in song; to-morrow they will have forgotten Sirayo and the
help he gave.  Already they have asked me about the gold that was in my
sack."

"Is there any danger, then?" asked Hume listlessly.

"I care not," said Sirayo; "and your heart is heavy too.  What will it
matter?"

Hume stopped and looked anxiously across the river.  "As you say, chief,
what does it matter?  But are our friends safe?"

"They are safe, for they go and have the word of Umkomaas the chief; but
we are here, and they would love us better if we were away."

"But you have done them a service, and they would have made you chief."

"I have done them a service, and when they were hot they would have set
me above them; but some of them will think the service was too great for
any reward but death.  Water will run, and men will always act the same.
See where the vultures circle; below them lays the field of the fight."

The unclean birds, with their bald heads bent earthwards between the
vast sweep of their fringed wings, were circling round above the stained
and trampled ground, whereon were many scores of dark figures rigid in
death, and each swift circle bringing them nearer to their dreadful
repast.

"Phaugh! to think that a warrior should come at last to the maw of such
a creature!"

They moved among the dead, lying as they fell, with gaping wounds on the
naked breasts, and saw standing alone a large rock rising from a bed of
flat stone stained red with blood.

"See the stone of blood!" said Sirayo.  "It was here they made their
last stand."

The Golden Rock!  Hume looked at it with a feeling of horror and
disgust, as though it were itself answerable for that ominous tinge of
red; then his eye was caught by a singular life-like appearance, and
advancing, he saw that the rock had been carved into the semblance of a
coiled serpent, with the head slightly raised and projecting, giving to
it a touch of defiance.

Looking closer, he saw that the coils were beautifully carved, the
muscles standing out with startling distinctness, while each scale was
clearly defined, and the whole polished to the smoothness of marble.
The head stood about five feet from the ground, and the tail ran out in
a small ridge across the flat rock at the back.  Under the throat a
broad vein of white quartz gave a wonderful touch of reality to the
carving, and along the side of the coils were patches of yellow and
black, while the topmost coils in line with the head were richly marked
with yellow.  From the broad blunt nose there was a continuous line of
yellow over the head and along the backbone of the topmost coil.

"It is gold," said Hume hoarsely--"pure gold--and if these veins and
splashes run through the mass there must be thousands of ounces."

"There are men hurrying from the kraal," said Sirayo quietly.

"Let them come;" and Hume, without turning his head, drew his knife and
began feverishly to scratch a yellow patch.  "It is as hard as iron," he
muttered; "we shall have to blow it to pieces."

"It has been long here," said Sirayo, "that snake of stone, looking over
the plain at the mountains.  The people think it watches over them."

"The people are fools," said Hume gruffly.  "There is gold enough here
to buy up their cattle ten times over."

"Soh!  If they had so many cattle, other nations would have eaten them
up.  As it is, they have lived in peace to the present."

"A fragment has been broken off here," muttered Hume, going down on his
knees; "and the vein runs right into the rock.  Why, it spreads right
over here!"  He crept over the flat rock, thinking nothing of the stains
of blood, and cried out that the whole bed was thickly shot with gold.
"The rock has been cut down all round--see, here are the marks of the
chisel!  Miners have been at work here--white men."

"No white people have been here.  So they told me; but here are those
who can answer best."

A band of warriors led by an old Induna rapidly approached.  The leader
held a white wand in his hand; the warriors wore their blankets, which
fell gracefully over their right shoulders, covering their right arms.

"Greeting!" said the old man.

"Greeting!" said Sirayo courteously.

"Why do you linger here among the dead, when on the other side there is
plenty of beer and merriment?  And what was the white man doing crawling
around the rock?"

"And why have you left the feast to question me?"

"These questions are through my mouth, but they come from Umkomaas, the
chief.  He would have you near him, and he has sent a message."

"Hu-em!" said Sirayo, while his nostrils expanded; "the time has come.
Say what shall it be--one last fight, or, like an old lion weary of
life, shall we die as we stand without a sound or a movement?  I care
not."

"Why," said Hume, "they are peaceful men;" but he brought his heavy
rifle forward and stood beside the chief with his back to the rock.

"I know your message," said Sirayo in his deep voice.  "I can see it in
your eyes, that fear to look straight.  You carry it under your
blankets, and it has a sharp edge to it.  Stop!" he thundered, as there
was a movement among the men.  "I have a word to say to you.  Let slip
your blankets; the air is warm, and I know what you hold beneath them."

The blankets slipped to the ground, and every man stood revealed with a
stabbing assegai in his hand.

"Soh!  It is well.  Look around on the dead and tell me who they are."

"Amazulus!" was the sullen cry.

"Yebo--Amazulus; and they lie as still as the blades of grass beneath
them.  Look, and think how ye would have fared, had not Sirayo fought
against them.  Where to-day would have been your flocks and your women?
Sirayo is a great chief; it is because he is great that Umkomaas has
sent you each with a message--Umkomaas, who was drawn by these hands out
of the hole.  Do you think that men such as you can slay me?" and he
took a stride towards them.

They fell back, looking at each other, and the old Induna lifted his
hands.  "It is the will of Umkomaas and the headmen in council, O
chief."

"Learn--Sirayo cannot be slain.  See these wounds--the blood yet drips
from them--these scars; they tell you that Sirayo cannot be slain unless
he so wishes."  He let his fierce gaze dwell on them, and his giant form
seemed to tower above them.  "Let this white man go, and to-night you
may do the will of the chief; but if harm befalls my friend, my spirit
will return; you will hear your cattle moan in the night, and in the
morning they will be dead."

"Never!" said Hume, who had followed the strange speech without
difficulty.  "I will not take my life on such terms."

"Hu-em! my day has passed and the night comes.  Of what use is it that
we should both die?  Take the road to the forest while there is light,
and the dread of me will keep these men quiet till I give them the
sign."

"And they will follow me up!"

"What say you? can the white man go?  Remember my words: Sirayo living
is not to be so feared as Sirayo dead."

"Ay, he can go; the chief said nothing concerning him."

"Go, my friend, and when you grow old, see that you have children about
you.  It is not well to be alone then."

"I stay with you, chief," said Hume quietly.

"Is that the last word?"

"Yes."

"It is a fight, then;" and the big Zulu, throwing back his head, began
to shout of his deeds, while he stamped on the rock in a sort of dance,
a dance that grew quicker, winding up with a terrific bound in the
direction of the men.  They did not wait for him, but turned and fled,
and Sirayo stood looking after them in amazement.

"You frightened them," said Hume with a laugh.

The chief shook his head, took a pinch of snuff, and smiled grimly.

"Ay," he said; "they will have some lies to tell the council.  You see
it was as I said: they would like us better if we went away.  I cannot
frighten them with words when they come again.  Why stay, since they
don't want us, and you cannot carry that rock away with you?"

Hume laid his hand on the carved head of the serpent, and looked
gloomily across the river, then at the deserted stretch of the valley on
the near side.  Its desolation struck him, and he called his companion's
attention to it.

"How is it that this side of the valley is deserted, while beyond there
are so many?  The ground looks rich, and the grass is good."

"It is some folly of the witch-doctors, from what I have heard."

Under cover of the night they went back to the ruins, and there they
found the old witch-woman alone, sitting smoking over the fire.

"I thought," she said, "you would have been crow's meat before this.
The witch-doctors smelt you out last night.  They doctored some
warriors; how is it you escaped?"

"Oh, they were old women.  They came, but I shook my fingers at them,
and they ran."

"Ho, ho! if they'd been old women they would not have run.  So they ran;
and you--why did you not run also?"

"We have come for the stone of fire, old mother."

"Yinny!  That is where the _amapagati_ dance and make their medicine.
No one can touch the rock and live."

"We have touched it.  The _amapagati_ are fools; but surely if they
touch it now that we claim it, they will die."

The old dame grinned.

"See," she said.  "I know.  You cannot frighten me with such things.
But, as you say, the wise men are fools; they have made this side of the
valley a fear to the people.  Oh, I know their tricks--how they would
prick cattle, when they strayed on this side, with a snake's tooth, and
then tell the people the deed was done by the fetich, the great
snake-spirit.  Ay, they have slain men too, and girls who went to the
river for water have disappeared."

"If that is so," said Hume, "it would be better if the snake rock were
removed."

"Eweh, O red eyes--and the _amapagati_ as well.  They have beaten me.
Let them die, I say."

Hume gave a bit of tobacco to her, and as she filled her pipe he shot a
significant look across at Sirayo.

"It is not well for an old woman to be here without good food and warm
shelter.  You should have a hut in the kraal," said Sirayo.

"They killed my son when he brought me food one night," she said
hoarsely; "and they threaten to smell out my daughter if I leave these
rocks--the sons of dogs and earth-pigs!"

"Soh! we will talk over this in the morning.  In the meantime go you to
the river, and call out that we have gone."

"But you will stay and slay them?"

"We have said it."

"Oh ay, I will go.  They have grown fat on lies; now I will repay them.
I will show you this night where they keep their girls, all young and
fat, the he-goats that they are."

When she had gone, Hume immediately pointed out that they could turn the
superstitious fears of the people to their own advantage.

"Well, for my part," said Sirayo, "I am curious about these girls.  If
they have put up long with the company of snuffy old men, they will know
how to receive a man and a warrior;" and he stretched his limbs.

The old woman, having done her mission by shouting until someone heard
her, returned, and led them up the mountain, where, in a kloof whose
narrow entrance was almost hidden by huge rocks, they found a small
kraal and saw the light of fires.

The old woman clapped her hands and called out:

"Come and see what presents I have brought you, children!"

A door was opened and three girls crept out, laughing, one of them, with
her naked toe, pushing the half-burnt logs on to the smouldering coals.

"What is it, mother?"

"Guess, my children."

"A young kid," said one, smacking her lips.

"Tobacco," said another.

"Hark to them!" said a third scornfully.  "You bring news, is it not so?
We heard sounds of a fight.  Our people have fled, and we are free!"

"Ay, there was a big fight, and our people have won."

"You gabble, old woman!  Our men have no stomach for fighting.  They can
only talk."

"Noenti, how you chatter!  If our folk have won, they will be feasting
and dancing."

"Oh, your news is old like yourself, mother," said Noenti.  "We saw the
fighting, and our people won; but it was because of the stranger who led
them--a great man."

"Oh, well, if you know everything I will return; when I was a girl I
always listened to what my elders had to say.  So you saw the fight and
the great chief.  I could have told about him, but you already know."

"Tell us!" they all cried together.  "Catch her, hold her fast!" and,
running round the fire, they came full tilt against Sirayo.

"Yinny!" they cried, and bolted like rabbits for the hut, while the old
dame laugh shrilly.

Presently they peeped out, and after much giggling emerged once more,
and came and peeped up at Sirayo, and walked round him.

"What say you, my children, have I not done well?  Here is the great
chief himself."

The girls shrieked with laughter, and then, under the direction of
Noenti, brought out meat and thick Kaffir beer.

Hume left them seated round the fire, chattering like children all
together, and sat at the mouth of the kloof, gazing idly before him.
And as he sat there watching the stars in the east he heard footsteps
approaching stealthily, so he stepped gently from the rock, crouching
down in the shadow.

As the group at the fire laughed while the girls filled the calabash,
seeing how much their magnificent visitor could drink, Hume appeared
within the circle of light with a man in his grasp.

"Here is another visitor," he said.

"Yoh!" exclaimed one of the girls, "it is our master;" and she ran
frightened away, while the old dame seized a brand from the fire, and
held it before the malignant face of the same man who had led the Zulus
to the ruins.

"Soh! it is you," said Sirayo; "you are welcome; come, sit by me;" and,
seizing the man by the leg, he jerked him over the fire to his side.
"The beer is good--drink, man, drink."

"Nay," cried the old dame, "drink he shall not."

"Drink," said Sirayo, with a frightful grimace; "for it is the last your
lips will touch.  Since you have walked into the den, you will not leave
it alive."

"No, chief," said Hume; "you must not take the blood of such a
creature."

"As you say, Hu-em.  Let us leave him to the old woman; but this tuft on
your hair let me have it, and this necklet of teeth, and this bag of old
bones;" and Sirayo stripped from the cowering man all the ornaments and
trappings of his office.  "Now, Noenti, fix them on me; I will to-night
play the part of witch-doctor."

"There is a place in the hut here for you," she said.

"Keep it warm for me, then, but to-night I will cross the river and
listen to their talk.  Is it not well, Hu-em?"

"No, the plan is wild; they will detect you at once."

"I will crouch under a blanket and keep in the shadow.  Moreover, I see
there is a good time for me if I can keep them on their side.  I will
frighten them with a tale of the spirit of the snake; and is it not said
among the tribes that in council Sirayo is as cunning as the jackal?
though it is a mangy beast.  Yes, I will go."

"If you will go, warn them that when the sun is up they must collect the
dead on the field, and bury them well and deep, lest a pestilence strike
them."

"Ho, ho!  I see you would work by the rock.  Good!  I will say the
spirit is offended by the dead."

Noenti having finished fixing on the witch-doctor's belongings, Sirayo
bounded over the fire, and was in a moment out of sight, while the old
dame, with the willing help of the girls, bound the despoiled rascal
tightly, and thrust him into a hen-coop with unnecessary violence.
Whether the man died of fright, or whether some darker fate befell him,
Hume never found out, but in the morning he saw that the coop was empty.

Before daybreak Sirayo returned, cool and uninjured, with the report
that the people had already set out to bury the dead, and that they
fully believed that he and Hume had fled.  Then he rolled himself in his
blanket and slept soundly till morn, when he awoke to eat heartily, and
then to play and talk with the girls, who were merry enough, no matter
what part they might have taken in the disappearance of the
witch-doctor.

They remained within the shelter of their retreat through the day, and
in the night, with the laughing help of the girls, they made strange
noises by the river, and bore aloft on poles weird globes of light to
frighten the natives and imbue them with respect for the sanctity of the
deserted side of the valley.  Those mysterious, pale, and ghostly globes
that flitted in the air were but the rinds of hollowed pumpkins,
luminous from the light of burning tinder within; but they produced a
great sensation on the people, who on the following day crossed the
river with presents of food which they placed round the Golden Rock.
This was, however, an unwelcome sign of respect, and when the darkness
once brought down hundreds of people to the river to watch for the
globes of spirit-light, they saw suddenly a horrid face literally blaze
out of the night, with a tongue of flame and fiery eyes, while a slow,
solemn, thunderous voice bade them keep to their huts, lest they should
be driven into the water.  That lesson was enough for the credulous
folk; the hollowed pumpkin with the punctured eyes and mouth was put
away, Sirayo dallied with the girls, and Hume, with the crowbar he had
carried from the waggon, slowly bored into the carved rock.

In the still nights when the wide valley was hushed in silence, except
only for the melancholy howl of a jackal, he laboured to destroy that
old, old work of human hands, done in a time long past.  It was eerie
work, and there were times when he would lay down his tool and stare at
the menacing head of the great snake, then take a slow look around him.
It was very quiet, and the darkness shut him in like a wall, but that
still, erect head he could always see outlined as he sat, against the
stars, and one night suddenly he thought of the lone hermit of the river
and shivered.  It seemed that there were strange forms peering at him
also, undefined, shadowy shapes with muffled faces.  He stood up, looked
around him fiercely, as though he would invite his fancies to take shape
so that he might confront them, then he ran blindly away.  In the
daylight he smiled bitterly at his fears, but that night again the
forbidding phantoms crowded thick and thicker on his imagination, until,
without accomplishing a stroke, he once more fled from his task.

"You have seen," said Sirayo, as he looked at Hume's face by the light
of the fire.  "What have you seen?"

"I am a child again, chief.  I am frightened by shadows."

"See," said the old woman solemnly; "I said they would come."

"Yebo!" said Sirayo, "a rock is a rock, and it cannot speak; but when
men have breathed into it, have put themselves into it, have taken it
into their inmost thoughts, it is no longer a rock.  No man has said
that I fear, but yet if, not knowing of it, I came on that rock in the
night, I should be afraid.  Leave it, my friend, lest the spirit take
possession of you, and you start and mutter, and grow wild-eyed."

"I have bored three holes," said Hume; "to-morrow I will split it
without doing more work."

"It is true: white men are never content.  They have been bitten by the
water-beetle, and never rest."

The next night the people in the kraals saw once again the pale globe
flitting about, and as they marvelled there was a flash of fire and a
dull rumbling report.  The next morning, when they looked across, they
saw that the Golden Rock was no more, and, with a sense of something old
and familiar gone from their lives, they wailed in their sorrow.



CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

BETTER THAN GOLD.

When Sirayo saw that no harm befell Hume for the act of sacrilege, he
helped him bring the scattered fragments of the rock to the hidden
valley, and when the mass of now shapeless ore was stored up, with its
threads and veins of gold gleaming yellow, preparations were made to
break it up.  From the crowbar, after much labour about a roughly-made
furnace, Hume made two great hammers, and for days he and Sirayo
battered at the hard quartz, reducing it by slow degrees to small
fragments.  This work they had done on a wide flat rock, banked in so
that nothing should be lost, and next, with native-made shallow dishes
of baked clay, they began on the less arduous and more exciting business
of washing for gold-dust.  So alternately washing and crushing from week
to week, they at last succeeded with their primitive methods in rescuing
a vast amount of gold-dust, coarse grains, and large pellets from the
mass of rich ore.

At one time they were threatened with trouble, a prying witch-doctor
having braved the unknown dangers by crossing the river and surprising
the little party at work.  Sirayo and the old woman, setting their wits
to work, managed, however, to detach Inyame, who moved over with his
entire regiment, and placed himself under the chief.  A fierce conflict
was prevented by a meeting between Sirayo and Umkomaas, and by the time
Webster was expected back a new kraal had been built about the shattered
rock, and herds of cattle grazed on the rich grass.

Sirayo was now a respected chief with a royal household, the lively
Noenti being the head wife.

Gradually Hume's face regained some of its comeliness, but he seemed to
live in an atmosphere of gloom, and spent much of his time alone,
looking to the west for the return of his friend.  The interest which
had kept him up so long as there was a lump of quartz to crush had
failed him.  He was listless, silent and moody, so that the children
shunned him, and the women turned away when he came near.  They thought
he was possessed; and so he was--by a melancholy of the mind and
irritability of nerves, severely shaken by the hardships he had
undergone.  He had succeeded, so he told himself.  He had alone won the
Golden Rock and by indomitable energy broken it up, but this gave him no
pleasure.  Nay, he grew to doubt whether he had done right.  What right
had he to destroy that carved image, that masterpiece of ancient
workers, to shed blood for its possession?  So he brooded gloomily in
his loneliness, and the only comfort he derived was the spectacle of
growing crops on the land that was formerly shunned.

And Webster would not return.  Why should he?  He had, no doubt, crossed
the ocean with her, and by this time they would be married, for sailors
were always quick in their loves.  But he would wait.  And yet while
these thoughts ran always in his mind he would look towards the west,
growing thin, haggard and unkempt.

One day the scouts reported the arrival of a stranger, and Hume watched
him come--a mounted man with a servant behind, leading a spare horse.

"This is some traveller," said Hume--"some chance traveller who has
entered the valley.  I will hide till he goes."

But it was Webster, and the little son of Umkomaas led him up to the
stones, led him to where a battered figure of a man lay face downward on
the ground.

"Frank!" rang out the familiar voice, "what ails you, my lad? are you
asleep?"

But Hume rose and stood before his friend, thin, long-haired, gaunt,
with a fierce, almost defiant, glare in his hollow eyes.

"My God, Hume! you are ill."

Hume looked long at the big, healthy, handsome man before him, and he
shuddered.

"No," he said in a hoarse voice, "I am not ill.  I've been waiting"--he
paused and looked round--"but I did not expect you."

Webster put his hand to his throat, for there was that in the forlorn
figure before him that told its own story.

"Why did you come?"

"Frank, old friend, how can you ask me that?"

"For the gold, eh?  Well, it is there, in three calabashes--the dust,
the coarser, and the nuggets.  You can take two: one for you, one for--
for her."

"Damn the gold!" said Webster, as the blood mounted to his face.

"And so you have come?"  Hume went on.

"Yes," said Webster hopelessly; "I have come.  You don't seem glad to
see me."

"Yes, I am glad--why shouldn't I be?" he added with a sudden flare.  "I
suppose you are hungry.  I think there is something in my hut.  Let us
see."

"Wait a minute, Frank.  I have been looking forward to this meeting so
long, and now you almost repulse me.  What is it? have you anything on
your mind?"

"No," said Hume, looking around.

"Is it," said Webster sternly, "that you have grown to love your gold?
If so, learn that I will have none of it."

"You must have your share.  It is yours; you cannot refuse it."

"So it is that?" said Webster quietly.  "Ah, my poor friend, I can
understand how in your loneliness you must have felt yourself neglected,
and that your thoughts may have dwelt for compensation on the wealth you
have earned; but, man, believe me, I care not if I never see it, still
less possess it."

"Neither do I," muttered Hume.

"Then what the devil is it?"

The two stood looking at each other, and the contrast between them was
painful, and so obvious that Hume seemed to shrink within himself.

"Ah," continued Webster, while a sudden smile broke the cloud on his
face, "you think of Laura!  Come, Frank, you trusted me.  Can you
believe that I would abuse it--more especially when you were left
behind?"

"Then," said Hume, meeting his friend's convincing glance, "you have not
asked her?"

"No, my lad," said Webster gently; "and if I had asked her, it would
have been of no use.  She loves you."

"Loves me!" cried Hume with a wild laugh--"loves me!  Look at me--you
can see what I am."

"You require a wash," said Webster gravely, "and a shave, and a new
rig."

Hume started back, as though he had been stung, with a forbidding look
on his face; but presently he began to laugh.  "Thank God!" muttered
Webster.

"Ay, thank God!" said Hume solemnly; "if it had not been for the mercy
of that laugh, Jim, I would have flown at you."

They went down to the village, and soon after Hume reappeared properly
clad and groomed.  Sirayo, already growing sleek, joined them, and
Klaas, who had followed his master back, sat with his eye on a comely
maid.

Soon after that they left the valley with half a dozen men, and these
they sent back to the valley with a goodly number of cows, and goods
dear to Kaffir girls.  Klaas remained to settle down in Sirayo's kraal.

Five months later the two friends saw Miss Anstrade in London, but she
was so changed from the woman who, in a short skirt and gaiters, had
tramped beside them in the wilds that their hearts sank within them.

It was absurd to suppose that brilliant, magnificent woman, with those
wondrous eyes and that imperious bearing, could condescend to hear them.
Yet they went, and for courage they went together.

"Oh, merciful Lady!" she said, between crying and laughter, "I could not
marry both of you."

"No, I suppose not," said Webster, stroking his fair beard and looking
hard at Hume.  "Perhaps I should not have spoken, but Frank would have
me come."

"It is a conspiracy," she said, with a flash in her eyes.  "You have
come together out of some absurd notion of honour."

"No," said Frank, turning red under her glance, "we thought it was
hopeless, yet we came to show that we loved you."

"And what are you going to do now?" she said, biting her lip.

"Ah!  I see someone in the street," muttered Webster.  "I will see you
again;" and he darted out hurriedly.

Hume looked as though he would follow, but was arrested by a faint
sound, and, turning his head, he saw that she was laughing.

"It is no crime for a brave man to love you," he said, "and he deserves
something more than laughter."

"I am not laughing at him," she said.

"At me, then?  Am I, then, an object of ridicule?"

"You never could understand," she said.

"No," he said with a smile of courage; "I never did understand you, and
I never shall.  I love you.  Must I go also?"

"My friend," she said, with a sad smile about her lips, "I have been
wanting to call on Miss Webster; do you remember Captain Pardoe?  You
must come with me."

"And Jim?" he whispered.

"Jim will be our brother; he will be pleased.  His friendship is better
than gold."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE END.