THE FUGITIVES,

Auckland Star, Volume LIV, Issue 72, 24 March 1923, Page 21

THE FUGITIVES,

(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)

BY ALICE A. KENNY.

CHAPTER XII. HUNTED DOWN. The two convicts came Into the little hollow below the cave, moving softly and examining the light undergrowth with sharp eyes. Blunt carried the musket. They walked slowly across (he glade, speaking in low tones. Mat raised his face and stared at the hidden cave-mouth Woodenly for a moment, while Laurence's finger quivered on the trigger. "Death!" he thought, his heart-heats thudding in his ears. "Tt would be death for both of us if T did fire." They passed out of sight and found the little spring and drank at it. Laurence heard a short, excited exclamation. "S-s-t!" said Blunt, and Mat's voice said: "They've been here —finger marks on the damp earth, aha.. They spoke together for a moment, then Blunt, came back into sight, looked about a little and sat down on a log facing the cave mouth, with the musket on his knee. Mat had gone on, but immediately a scrambling =ound somewhere above him warned Laurence that he was approaching the cave mouth from above. He thought afterwards that the man coukl have hail no suspicion of a cave there, but had only climbed to look about him. I\U discovery of the opening and the movement of Laurence's finger were, eimultaneoue. Yell and report rang horribly through the wood, and the body hurtled headlong into the hollow. There was no chance of missing, the muzzle of the pistol hnd been so near. The other man, taken fearfully by surprise, leaped up with a cry, blazed at random at the green bank, and fled, crashing through the bushes. The shot went thigh, ibut earth and pebbles rattled down on the floor of the cave. Laurence, with but one clear idea in the horrid confusion of the encounter, reloaded the pistol and fiercely rammed the charge down. "D him! that's one more gone." he muttered. "D him! I'll beat him vet!" But 'he was appalled at ithe position. If Bhint were not an abject coward, and he knew he ivae not, he would 'be back in a moment. Directly he had recovered from 3iia shock of surprise he would Jje back, more ruthlessly resolved than ever, and ho could stand off and butcher them iboth without coming within Tango of the pistol. ''Crouch down in the corner!" he said to the terrified girl, in a choked -whisper. ''Get all the cover you can." He lay flat himself wifch the pistol ready. He 'had a moment's temptation to drag the girl out and make a run for it but realised that Blunt might be reckoning on that, whereas he had at least a little uncertainty about the exact place from which the pistol was fired. Laurence's mind raced with frantio thoughts. If Blunt, firing from cover, killed him and not the girl ... If she were killed! ... "Miss," he said. "Yes," she whispered, in a shaking voice. "Listen, please, and call up all your courage. If it should happen that he kills mc, Blunt, out there, do you take the pistol and . . . keep it hidden against your dress, and let him get near you ... so that you can't miss, and shoot him through the body." "O— oh!" "Hush! . . . you must . . . and then light, a great fire and keep it "oixig day and night, until they find you. Hush! he's here. ..." Queer pictures, evoked by -his own earnest words, flashed through Laurence's over-strung mind. Flames lea-pinpr high against a black night sky aa a pale and starring girl, alone on an island of dead men, tended her desperate signal fire. A desolate mad girl, wandering barefooted on the beach, afraid to enter the shadow of the trees because of the hateful corpses that lay there tossed down like bundles of old rags. "Hullo!" cried Blunt'e voice from a little distance. Laurence started, but made no reply. "I'm belli ad a tree here," said the convict coolly, "and you can blaze away with the pistol if you want. However, you'd better not," he added in a drawling, offensive tone, "because it'll be my pistol before you're much older, and I don't want the ammunition wasted for nothing. You won't answer, of course; it makes no difference to mc. I know where you arc." He paused for ii space and then went on. "I've got you, you know, like a rat in a. trap, and it's for you to say whether you'll stay there and ibe shot and get the girl shot, too, or whether you'll surrender. . . These are my terms, and you're blanky lucky to get any. Throw out your powder and Tmllefcs and your pistol on top of old Mat there, and your knife too. Then coniß out yourself. •. . T don't want to shoot you. It won't do mc .any good. I'd rather be friendly than be stuck alone on this blanky island —that's sense, ain't it?" Laurence made no answer, but kept his pale, despairing watch on the green undergrowth from which the voice came. Ho felt Barbara's hand on his arm. 'HTan we not trust him?" she win snored, imploringly. "Xo" . . he breathed without stirring. "Xot for one moment. He'd shot Bio the miniite I showed. Ah! . . ." The report of the musket broke deafeningly upon them and asrain earth and pebbles scattered about the cave. "Are you safe?" gasped Laurence in anffuish, and heard her whisper "Yes," with utter thankfulness , . "And you?" she sobbed. "Yes, yes —unhurt! Oh, Ciod! strike him dead!" Blunt moved into the o)>en for a moment ramming a fresh charge home. "If you won't come out alive, I'll drag you out dead before long, you blanky fool!" he cried. Had he been a, little nearer, Laurence would have rushed upon him with the pistol, so fiercely 'had anger at this coldblooded cruelty transformed his fear to fury. But the man stepped back to the cover of the tree and Laurence, mad with helpless rage, saw the barrel of the musket gleam shoulder high again. And then Blunt screamed —a loud, horrible yell instinct with surprise and extremest terror broke from him, and he reeled out into the open like «i maniac throwing up his arms and letting the musket fall. "Oh!" he cried, and he fell on his Imnds and knees, and then on his face. While Laurence stared aparalysed at

A Story of the Early Days

this new horror, a naked Maori warrior | camo into eight, and planting his foot | upon Blunts body drew out the spear j which he had driven home between his shoulders. A half fainting sickness dimmed Laurence's senses for a moment, and as they | cleared attain he saw beneath him the Maori warrior clutching the musket and; stooping to examine the body of the; man Milt. Before Laurence could draw \ further back the roving black eyes were' raised up to his. The change in their! expression told the young man that ho | had Ik'cii discovered, and before he could l move a finger the Maori bounded away ! with v fierce exclamation and disappeared. As lie ran he shouted as though toj distant comrades, and Lnurance started! from his prostrate position with air ejaculation. "What is it?" gasped the girl. "Maoris —.Maoris again. They've ! killed Blunt—that cry!—only they'll be on us soon. We must get away- —out of, this." Barbara leaned towards him and tried to speak, but her lips trembled, and the blood was streaming down her check. At that sight his self-control went suddenly, and he flung up his hand with a despairing gesture. j "Oli, heavens!" lie cried, in a .break- i ing voice. "You're hit —that bullet!" | lie caught her hands and drew her j to him, catching his breath with stammered words, .while she tried to reas- ! sure him. "I am not hurt! I am not hurt! ,, she said, heartbroken at his tears. "It ' was only something that scratched my cheek. Oh, Laurence! don't." j She clung forlornly to his hand as I he wept with his face on his arm. She wept ;t little, too, but not so brokenly. ''Don't cry," she sobbed and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. He held her hand hard and spoke unsteadily, with averted face. j "Forgive mo . . . as if it wasn't' bad enough without this. . . I'm' more unnerved than I knew. . . I'm a coward, but for you to be hurt " "But it is very little, look. And wo might have been killed." ! She turned her face towards him, ; and he saw a slight cut caused by a flying pebble. A little blood still i welled from it. j "I'm ashamed of this," he stammered. "I want to tell you. . . They : taught mc this weakness in the hulks. ; They said they'd break mc and ... I they broke mc. Never mind now, we' must not stay here. A new enemy— I must get you out of this before they eomo ewarming up. Oh, if this cave only led somewhere into the earth!" He struck against the wall with his: clenched hand, and a second lniter a I light eound of falling earth came hollowly to their ears. CHAPTER XIII. THE TEBRIBLK DAKKNESS TNDEU TIIK EARTH. Laurence turned a wild glare on the c ""bid you hear that? Ife hollow, it fell within." Hβ struck again, and again a fall of ' loose earth was heard. Ho snatched out ' his knife, and began vehemently to hack into the earth, and soon, with an incoherent exclamation drove hand and arm through. "There is a cave! Tt is only a curtain of earth—the tree had grown over a fissure in the rock!" he cried, and bidding the pirl watch lest any Maoris should appear he worked until his pallor had turned to a flush of exertion, and the sweat started on iiis face. "But it may be a terrible pit," said the girl. "Xo, for the earth find rubbisfr does not fall far. There is ft. ledge we can drop down on to at least."' "Oh. anywhere, belore they come back! Wait!" She searched ill the pockets of her jacket j\nd gave a sobbing cry of joy••Oh, look! T found them ill the locker. "SKe held up half a tallow candle md a box of Lucifer matches. Laurence took them from her hand. "The thing we most needed," he said. "This may save our lives for us." Very soor. he had made a hole sufficiently large to pass through. Going to the mouth of the cave, he looked long and anxiously about and then ventured out fa: enough to cut a long slender rod. Nothing stirred in all the wood. He glanced at the huddled body of Mat and turned away his eyes. Leaning through the hole he had made he felt for the rocky ledge he believed to be below them. "I can foci bottom certainly." he said, "but I'd like to put a light down too." Drawing up the rod he lashed the lighted candle firmly to it and thrust it in. To his vast relief roof, walla, and floor were all visible. The cavern was not of great extent so far as he could see. but sloped down rather steeply, a passage of darkness leading perhaps to strange vaults. The boom of the sea was plainly audible. "Safe!" he snid to the. girl as he drew back tlio sUUV, and extinguished the precious caudle. He pocketed the pistol and ammunition, and gave her the half empty water flask. I "1 will go down iirst,"' lie said, "and do you climb over and drop, and I will catch you." "Yes," she said simply, but her lip 3 were dry, and her heart sickened at the earthy darkness. Just as Laurence was about to' go through a far away yell reached their ears. Both started and paled and their eyes met in the same thought. "Xo, no—there's time. You first!" gasped the girl. Laurence nodded assent, and sera~MnH quickly through: his head wont out of sight, then his clinging hands let go and she heard him strike solidly beneath her feet. "All right, miss!" his voice came up almost joyfully, and though he spoke low it reverberated strangely. "It's no great depth. Hand the water flask, down and then come yourself. Quickly."" She needed no urging for there was terror in feeling herself left behind. She got through the hole holding hard to the edge as she slid down. This slipping into darkness was a test of courage, and she waa ready to cry out when Laurence's voice below said, "Drop, miss! .don't be afraid!" She dropped, and was caught at once about the body. He staggered a little from her impact, held her in strong arms, and lowered her to the cavern floor. "How strange and dreadful!" she sighed breathlessly, her cyer. straining to

the little oval of light above them. "It is so dark. Stay near mc." "Yes, I am here. But, Mies, this is safety for a time at least. If we only had food " "But they will find the hole, won't they?" "Yes; he caw mc, the native who killed Blunt, but they'd hesitate about coming in after us. And I've got powder and shot enough to blow in every face that blocks that opening. This position is all in our favour. If we had food, I'd be content." Barbara shuddered ac his voice went •murmuring on in echoes. She hated the thought of going away froni the one patch of light into the unknown. "But isn't that horrible," she whispered, speaking low to prevent the. eerie vibrations which took tho lightest sound and wafted it terrifyingly about the phantom walls. She know it was nothing to fear, but it affected her imagination, and shook her with a kind of reason-dethroning terror, which her self-control could hardly hold in check. She found herself clinging with both hands to Laurence's arm, and, strangely onoujih, it whs the thought of his sudden breakdown in the hollow above which steadied her. "What is it?" he whispered protectingly. "The sounds . . . the dreadful, murmuring and creeping all around us." "ft is only the reverberations, Miss. You will soon get accustomed to it." ■'Laurence," she breathed, struck by another dread, "what shall wo do now? Suppose there is no ray out? We cannot get out the way we got in." "T think I could,".Miss, if I was put to it, but I am almast certain this opens into the beach caves. The direction ami the sound of the sea give mc that idea. We must find our way down. 1 wish we had more candles, or something to make a torch with." "Oli. light the candle now," she begged. "I daren't, Miss, unless we arc going straight on to find the way out. We mustn't be caught, in darkness somewliero away down there." "Xo," she whispered, in awe, "oh, no; but lot us start now. This is too terrible. I feel as if I were dead and buried ill a tomb." Laurence lighted the candle, and moved a few steps forward in the gloom, holding it high in his hand. '"Keep close to mc, Miss," lie said, "it drops away here quickly. Hold by my arm if it gels too rough." Down a steep and narrow stair of rock they went, staring with strained eyes, and followed by their wavering shadows. At first 'roots were to be seen, pushing through the low roof, and water ran {.'listening down tho rocks; then the passage opened out into a great cave with a roof higher than the candle's gleam could reach, and a floor more level though still trending down. Barbara's parted lips were dry. She said nothing, but held fast by her companion's arm. The boom and shock of the sea vibrated in the cavern. "We are near: there'll be light soon," said Laurence, and held up the halfburned candle. "It drops down here again. Hold fust." A slippery terrace of rock, and a deep (urn in the cavern wall, and they found themselves faced 'by a crevice of light, and deafened by a thunder of waves. A mist of salt spray settled on their faces, and a thin black glistening sheet of water ran towards their feet. Laurence extinguished tho candle, and drew the girl back a little. "The candle! Why did you do that?" she cried. "To save it. I know where we are now." As the water Bucked back they could hear each other speak; then a wave I broke and roared against tho rocks again, filling the air with its sound. ", . . not the cave I thought, but the low tide one!" "Can wo get out?" "Yes, at low water." "Oh, mc! I do want to get out." "Come back a little, miss, it's wet' here. There is nothing to do but wait for low water." Lighting the candle again they returned to the lofty cavern, and Laurence looking about found a dry bank of sand on which the girl could rest. They sat down to wait, once more putting out the candle, of which an inch only remained. "Doesn't it ease ynur heart, Miss, to know that at least we're safe from the I Maoris here." I "Yes. but . . . this terrible darkness under the earth weighs mc down, and I'm hungry. . . hungry!" "Yes." said the man gravely, "we must have food. Do you feel faint, Miss." "No, but tired, and I tremble, and 1 think of things to fat all the time." "Could you sleep?"' ' "T'm afraid to." "Afraid!" "Afraid I might wake up in the dark here and find you gone." "No, don't fear that. I shall not leave you." "Do you promise, Laurence? T should go mad if T woke up and found myself alone here. Do you faithfully promise?" "Yes, T faithfully promise." She sighed and slid lower on the bank of sand, and let her head rest against Laurence's knee ns he sat beside her. "T want to feel you there in this thick dark," she murmured. Laurence made no answer, but sat motionless, leaning his back against flic rocky wall, with his arms folded on bis breast. Yet it was most slrantro to hoar her slow breathing in the deathly darkness, I and to feel the weight and 'warmth of I her young head against him. Fatigued, famished, almost hopeless though be was, the loveliness of her presence and

her trust in him were like healing to his heart, and he vowed himself to her service. She started convulsively, with a muffled cry of "Mamma!" and woke, throwing out her arms. Laurence, putting out a. responsive hand, touched her hair, and then her hand, and she caught his tightly in her own. "I thought that terrible man had seized mo again, and I screamed out to mamma," she said grievously. "You're safe, Miss. Don't be alarmed." "In this terrible place," she sighed. "Can't we get out yet?" "Not yet. All that booming and breaking of the sea ceases at low tide. I don't think you've slept long." "And. . . it's still. . . the same day as up there on tne hill when those men came. Oh, how strange, and how long! Years long it seems." She put her flexed arm upon his knees and laid her fneo against it as if he had been a friendly brother. (To be continued Saturday next.)