BARON SAM.

Auckland Star, Volume XXVI, Issue 18, 22 January 1895, Page 6

BARON SAM.

By ST. GEORGE EATHBONS, Author of 'Doctor Jack,' 'Doctor Jack's

Wife,' Captain Tom,' etc.

BOOK THREE.

THE CARNIVAL AT ROME.

CHAPTER XIX.

DUDLEY PLUNGES INTO THE WHIRLPOOL, The few words spoken by the Canadian are significant, and put Baron Sam on hia guard. He realises that his suspicions are true with regard to the man who bursb so unceremoniously into his vehicle.

Plainly Sir Lionel will bear watching. Tho bluff Briton joins them—they can Bee hia eyes paaa from one to another as though he would ascertain what the nature of.'their little conversation has been. Do they suspect ? Both men are clever and diplomatic, and can disguise their real feeling?, co that the English baronet gets no satisfaction from the look he bends upon them. • ■

He givea a plain sigh of relief, this man who has spent much of hia life and three fortunes on the race-track. Perhaps ho will Drove a poor hand at the business of deception—a race-course gambler cannot also be a Richelieu.

Sam has conceived an interest in the man who made his acquaintance at the mnzzleof the revolver, as it wore. • Which way do you go, Sir Lionel?' he asks, though just as positive aboub the answer as if it had already been given. • Back up the Corso,' comes the reply. • You came here with me rather unceremoniously—perhaps you will accept an invitation to accompany us back.'

' With pleasure.'1 So the three gentlemen enter the carriage that is in waiting, and start back in the direction of Sam's hotel, which fronts on the thoroughfare that is Rome's especial pride, enter the hotel as friends, so far as appoarancfts go, and yet with deep feelings beneath the surface.

Sam awaits with eagerness an oppor-tunity-to question his companion. What does Dudley know in connection with the Briton, and how came be by the information ? There is something very singular about the mabtcr, since the Canadian athlete has only landed in Rome. They rattlo along: the streets, now brilliantly illuminated, for the person whose soul ia so dead that he will not even put an extra candle in his window during the nights of the Carnival, has no place in the Eternal City. ♦ Look, messieurs, says Sir Lionel, suddenly. They have reached a point where St. Peter's can be aeon, the huge, famous dome outlined in silhouette against the heavens. Just now it ia" Undergoing a wonderful transformation—ib no longer can be called gloomy, for a line of electrical fire is running,* along like a eorpeut—St. Peter's will coon be ablaze with lights, looking like an immense fire-ball. The shouts of the thousands who have ■ gathered to witness this scene make tho vary air vibrate—only once a year is St. Peter's thus illuminated, and to the faithful it as enablametical of wonderful things. They are now moving along the crowded Corso, and strange sight 3 begin to present themselves. All are on the lookout—indeed, one would have to be dead in truth to human feelings nob to have some show of interest in the queer people who appear at every _tutrn. s~^ « iv .. ~ •. -.. ■~..', / • • Cavaliers, monks, historical personages, mset one here and there. JRevt'ilry abounds, \ because it is the time for laughing. When tho weak has flown all RomeVwill go into mourning—the music that now throbs upon the air from a dozen points at once, must be hushed. • >

Sani has been here during Carnival once before, and has also seen Venice when lighted with her tens of thousands of lamps —a wonder city of the sea, with ncr mystical gondolas and ancient palaces, her Bridge of Sighs, and grand canal. He can never forget thah sight, though he live to bo four-score, and speaks of it now, while looking upon the crowded pavement of the Corso. , •It was here you dawned upon memoir Lionel, here you jumped into my vehicle with a rapidity that took my breath away. I remember it because 1 had been observing the figures represented in that brilliantly lighted window,' remarks the American. 'Ah! indeed! I could nob have told tbab, for I waa too violently excited ab the time. My encounter with chab ruffian whom I so neatly floored with a shoulder blow, and tho rush of a dozen burly rascals, stirred my blood to fever-heaf. I wonder if there are any of them abouc,' thrusting his head out of the carriage window, which allows Sam to poke hia corarade'in the ribs, and whisper something in his ear. Then, aloud, the American says : 'If I were you, my dear fellow, I wouldn't expose myself in a reckless fashion. Of course I don'b doubt you r bravery, but if you have foes in a Roman borough, it might bo wise to keep a little shady, unless you particularly want to try your revolver on them. I know these men of old, having had more than ono adventure while viewing the Coliseum and ruins of anciont Romo by moonlight.' ' Your advice is sound, and I.thank you. There is no necessity for a fellow inviting danger. Enough to meet it aa ib flies. What hotel do you pub up at?' , His manner is quite natural, but Sam has an idea tho question is unnecessary, for ho .beliove3 the Englishman knows this fact already from a few words ho chanced to drop while in conversation^ Nevertheless he mentions the name, whereat tho other gives a gurgling laugh. 'Just whore I am staying; singular wo have nob met bofore, by Jove !' ho ejaculates, but Saftj doos nob think ib so strange since there may have boen a reason for Sir Lionel nob running across his path until the proper moment arrived —the moment when he burst liko a (laming meteor upon Sam's vision, pursued by an imaginary coterie of. Boninn cub throats. ' We aro going to gob out ju3b beyond, Sir Lionel, desiring (o see the sights along tho Corso at this particular time.' ' Jovo ! I'm templed to alight witn you,' exekims the Englishman. • You aro inclined to be reckless,' hints ' 'Oh!' returns Sir Lionel, with a slight laufh, ' '.vo Britons nevt'ask " how many," bat "where 'xro they?" I don't nllow a spice of danger to interfere with my pleasure at any time. If the fellows seek -me again they will b'r.d me. Besides, you see, I am provided with a black mask and behind it will doubtless escape recognition.' ' ■ i\icLane's lip has curled afc the boasting tono of the other, and ib is evident thab he docs nob sympathise with Sir Lionel in what ho says. Jf there is anyone Dudley McLnne detests, it is a boaster. 'Then,,-again, you have your revolver,' say.s Sam, with an inaudible chuckle, for 'he knows perfectly well that ab the moment ho speaks" that self same weapon ia lying back in a corner of the carriage cushions, having slipped from the pocket of tho Englishman as he restlessly moved back .and forth.

Sam does not take ib upon himself to inform tho other of this thing, for the simple reason that he counts him aa among hia enemies, and this singular accident may in the near future be of value to him,

* What you say is true—armed with 6ha't trusty friend I have no fear. Do we drop oub here?' says Sir Lionel, tying on his mask.

' In one minute,' as the vehicle stopß by the curb.

' Dudley, see what I have brought for you,' with which Sam takes out from a small package a couple of'masks very like the Briton's.

With some laughter these are fastened on.

' Suppose we are .separated, says MeLane.

1 The old signal,' returns Sam. As Sir Lionel knows nothing of this h6 has to feel that in a moasure he is counted out; but it does nob seem to be policy with him to show any resentment just now. He leaves the carriage with the others. Sam is the last out—he has been' delayed jusb five seconds in securing the revolver which the Briton has lost, which he manages to very dexterously hide in a pocket. Tho driver is paid, he starts his horses, and the trio of foreigners find themselves stranded upon the sidewalk of the Corso, now filled with, gay revelers, who joke and laugh and sing, everything being given over to the madness of the hour.

It is natural for anyone who has life about him to feel an interest in these strange scenes, and both Sam Buxton and hia comrades are of course quite taken.with what they gaze upon. Perhaps their blood has been quickened by the music that throbs upon the night air, as gay processions pass by, representing various scenes in the history of ancient Rome. Cresar and Nero, together with numerous famous personages, figure in the streets during tho Carnival time.

Every one appears to be given up to merriment, and it hardly seems possible that under this cloak of innocence dark schemes can be concocted ; yet in all probability the evil men of Rome are reaping a harvest while all good neighbours give themselves up to the intoxication of the hour.

Here some minstrels sing and performyonder the gipsies of true Spanish blood, under a tent, give one of their weird dances, charging a few centimes to witness ib. Other scenes are on the right and lefb. A stranger in Rome must believe himßolf bewitched, sinco it can never be hia fortune gaze upon such odd sights under any other sun than chat of the Eternal City.

The three foreigners saunter along. Now they stop to gaze upon some singular spectacle that presents itself, and anon dodge handfuls of rice showered upon them by fun-loving ladios from certain balconies. It will be a fare feast for the pigeons, this Carnival season, sinco tons of rice must be scattered alony the streets of Rome. One might easily believe on the following mornthat a tremendous wedding fever had struck the city, ingulfing most of the bachelors and maids in a ground race to the altar. These sights will pall upon the strollers as the hour grows later, and they may be glad to seek their hotel, to shut themselves in a close room, and keep out as much of the noise as possible. Then again, Sam is more than eager to hear what his comrade has to say—to learn where Dudley picked up his information with respect to the Briton being concerned in the game against him. He becomes listless, and hia companions notice it. Ib is Dudley who suggests that they head in the direction of the hotel. Sir Lionel seconds the motion ; at the same time Sam believes thab he sees bhehorseloving Briton make a signal wibh bis arm, holding a snowy handkerchief in his hand at the time. Sam awaits a result—moanwhile he taps his pockets lightly to make sure his weapon and that of Sir Lionel are in place. ' Ah ! I am sure thab was a particular friend of mine who pasßod,'one 1 have endeavoured to run across for three dayß— the Duke of Sutherland, travelling incog. Gentlemen, you will excuse me, I am sure, if I leave you,' says the Briton, hastily. They bog that ho will not worry himself —thab under the circumstances he is excusable, and a sensitive man, less thickskinned than Sir Lionel, might feel offended by the warmth with which these remarks are made. , He gravely shakes hands with tham both, turns, and is lost to sight in tho crowd.

Dudley McLane chuckles audibly. •Exit the second villain. Down drops the curtain upon Act One, When it rises again a new character will step upon the Btage, one who puzzles me, bewilders, dazzles '

1 Hold on, for tho love of misery, Dudley —one would almosb imagine you had been bewitched,' breaks in Sam, astonished at his comrade's fervour.

'Perhaps I have,1 returns Dudley, moodily, ' ab any rate, 1 am under a spell. That girl's beauty dazzled me. I hardly know what to think of her.'

' She musb havo been on the train ?' ventures Sam, wondering if Dudley's time has really come. •Of course, that's where I heard the talk, by the merest accident in the world —the partition between our compartments was broken. I knew an Englishman named Sir Lionel Grant would be with you when you met me in the depfit. The man appeared to be giving the girl instructions. There were timea when I believed they ware deceiving her—that her aiii.a seemed to be inspired by gome lofty patriotism. In a word; she believes tho life of the king ia in danger, and that a foreign clique has formed a conspiracy against him, a"hd all her loyally to the court has been played upon in order to make her join in the game.' " ' I Ece —she is in truth a heroine, even while taking part in tho plot againsb our lives ?' pursues Sam. 1 'That's the idea I'm labouring undor,' exclaims the Canadian, eagerly, as though thankful thab Sam has helped him out.

'How about Miss Winchester?'—the other cannot help giving him this ono ' You know I'm off with that love, old follow—gave up all hope when you entered tho game, because I had no show at all.1 1 You fickle beau of St. James-street.' ' Don't, old fellow. I'm not built that W ny—never cared for a girl until 1 met Aileon, and you squelched me before I had much show there. It may be I shall meot my fate under the Italian sky—if only to keep your misery company.' ' Bah ! that's a poor excuse. Bub ccc here ! tho hotel isn't more than a block or two away; seems to me that if this inamoia'a of yours—-' ' Stop ! I didn't call her that. I Bimply snid she was a beauty and had attracted me in a singular manner which almost alarmed me. I believe her to be a lady, belonging to a good family, influenced by some lofty idea of serving her sovereign,' declares Dudley, earnestly.

• Bog pardon, Dud—no offence meant. What I want to see now is the curtain rise on Act Two.'

'Well, you hear tho ting-a-ling of the stage bell. Ib rises—don't look around, bub my charmer of the train is here, almost at your elbow, Sam.' {To he Continued.)