THE GOLDEN PRECIPICE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 13781, 20 June 1908, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE GOLDEN PRECIPICE.

[PUBLISHED BY SPKfUL ARRANGEMENT.]

— — . ip ■', BY H. B. MARK WATSON, Author of "The Web the Spider," "Gal. loping Dick," " Skirts of Happy Chance," " Captafa Fortune," "A « "' Midsummer Dajja Dream." Etc., Ho, I [COF^QHTJ .:;.' CHAPTER Su-(Continiief].) I Okio.v lay far in tie west. I knew the ■) dawn was near A. . and suddenly I -■ heard a. cry,, a cry o fear, of mingled terror ;}' - and supplication ,nd it was- the cry of a I" ; woman. There w« but ono woman on that I ".•;.. island of despair, i lifted my head, and lisI tened, every puis* in my body seeming to | : ' have stopped. Ji.o cry was raised again, V'■ and it appeared f> sound near mo. Was it I', - Ariadne crying, fr help, and crying in vain? i A madness sejzdme, greater than I had 1'" " ever before eiwienced. I put forth all 1 my strength ;rthc. muscles in my arms stifi - fened into luais of iron; the blood poured (. into my face aiit brain. Ana still I wrench- | ed . . . id all. of a sudden the stake i ■ • on my right gave. ] With a re/etition of the effort it camo •I ' slowly out ofAho earth Tn which it had been I';-- . buried. My/arm was free. ; 'With tremulous fingers I sought my pocket, andjfound there the knife, which in "•' • their ccrtaijty of my secure fastening, they had not tiubled to remove. With it J. [ shore throirh tho ropes that bound my left , • arm, and tfen repeated the operation on tho I * ropes thatlheld my feet. I cut away tho '"' wreckage, ind rose to my feet, a. man once moro, a nun with a giant's strength becauso I■ ' of Hi© thoughts that moved like flame withs'■■!''- in him. 1 caught up the stake, a heavy 1 ■ billet of wood, damp from the earth, and I I stalked out into the light of the fire. I The cry had come from my right, and I [■ directed iiy steps thither, to a hut like my ? own, sum'as'l had already noticed. 1 I reached ttro entrance, on which tho light of I? I "■■'.'■ the greaJ fire flickered weaTTiy, and in the 1:" flashes I/made out the figure of a woman on 1 ' the grouid, and that of a man who stood j |i over be/. A low cry went to my heart.' I | . stepped in, and raised my billet. The next I •„ moment the sound of my feet had come to I "/■ his eats, and he turned, and a revolver '■-■:,}■ belched in my face. The bullet whistled K". ■ past iy neck) and then my billet fell. It !'•? ■ Jell on"his right arm, and" broke it like a I■■{'■ '■'• :■'■ cracked stick above the elbow. He shriek- '■ i? -~ ■■ ed Willi the pain, and made a rush for the ! ,'„- bac% of the hut. Between the Hashing and dropping of the firelight I had glimpses of fi, l t- " ' him. IHe dashed from wall to wall, his arm '■■■" hangiig helpless, his hand still nervelessly gTusping the revolver. He ran about, squealing like a rat, and he trampled on the girl as he ran. I shouted, and stimur lated possibly by his panic he suddenly put out his left hand, and seized the weapon >, from the dead right hand. It was levelled, I ■■:-':, • and.he was firing as 1 raised my billet I ' again; and he dodged |! . He pitched sideways with no cry, only r>" : with little dropping bump into the darki?'-:', ness of an unlit comer of the hut. My §■}"■' stake had taken him behind the ear, and wk,'--, he had died instantaneously. There lay the Iff- man with the ugly dead lace that we had y commented on early in the voyage, and the p face that pressed the cold earth in that W-- rough shelter was really a dead face now. f For it was Heaven, the steward, who had 1 i been a confederate of the mutineers from tho S- outset. | Ariadne Sylvester was whimpering at my U- Jtnea. B '■] • " Oh, save nffi"! Where is that man? Ho ■-' frightened me; Oh, lie was terrible! I ;, knew you would come. I knew—where is | ■ :':■ " that man?'' I "He will frighten you no more— i . any more," I said, comforting her. (,<-■ "Is he dead? Have you killed him?" she '"":■■■;•' asked in an awestruck voice. She was still, '',' trembling, clinging to me. "I'm glad he's •■; dead," she breathed; and then, her face panting up to mine, she collapsed on my breast.; I let her come to of her own accord, hav--5 ing canned her away from that hut into the J"i shelter of the wood. She emerged from her pf""" swson with a. long sigh, and the first thing ' :' «he saw was my face above hers, watching - it with anxiety. The stars were paling be- ;• fore tho shafts of the new dawn, and her 1 '.,. face was dimly luminous. An expression '; which was not a smile, but mere content, '■//• passed over it. »a •| '■'■■; "I'm glad it's you," she whispered.P ;: : ; I pressed the arm which was supporting '■..' '■■:'".'. her closer. ■. ' "Do you remember when we walked i-i this way once?" she asked after a !•; pause, and was silent, as if she ; puzzled to herself. . *■' Don't bother to talk," I told her sooth- • ingly. • " No, no. I must," she said almost frotV fully. "I wanted to tell you. I remember ; walking," she said slowly, "and it was '-' night; and those men were about; and you —yes, vou struck one as you struck— She shuddered, and ceased. '".Why do you hold me?" she asked. "You fainted," I said. "But you're bet- '•■'•■.'...•. ler now/' , i "Is that all?" she asked in the slow voice, ,' »he had been employing. "Is that all ?" - : '■ . I drew her nearer. I thought she wandered, and I was afraid. Had .the strain jUy been too much for her brain? "Why do you press me like that?" she I| : | . •sked again slowly. _ ! j "Becauseoh, because I love you," I j | v... cried, forgetful of all else, save that I did ;J love her and that she was in my arms. She |5 put out hers towards me. ■?/' I' "That's what I wanted to say," she whimMr. pered, pulling my face down to hers. '7* V; was on that night it happened. I loved rin '-' ,"'; then. It was then. I can see it now. fov :/:,'; I felt— feel it more now: and that's ; lew !' •■' I know it. Oh, I'm glad you love me.''' ?: I kissed her lips softly, gently, art*.she • . Jighcd her soul towards me. " Whoever ;: might be the. fate of that hapless exp<dition, I/at the least, was indebted to it f#r more than life. < I laid her down on her ferny ted, and ;.;!• stood up, to regain the mastery d myself. ■ About me spread the wonder of foe dawn, < ■; which grew sensibly into morning. The j greyness was slipping from s. sky that was flushed with gold and roso towards the '.*/-'' orient, and thb sea alone was Irab, darkly :'•■; drab from the opacity if its depths. The ■ firs and the palms that surroimtted me like ■&'■ upstanding giants whistled in the breeze that blew oh the water. And on* of the innu■S merable crepitations of the twilight in the undergrowth sprang tho strident but triumj: / phant voice of a parrakeet I turned my '/ eyes again seaward, and absoibed the rare fine air in what was no less thin an testacy / of mind and emotion. I/was like one taken ;;= out of the rough circumstances of this rude Wt world and rapt to heaven. I was Nympho- ;' lept, and, behold, at my feet, recumbent, /■' silent, and with wet lashes over deep and | tired eyes, was Ariadne of the Island, yet no desolate Ariadne derelict and tear-stained, but one blooming, even through her terrors, into the flower/of full life and happiness. I looked down on her, and she stirred and looked up at me. .-. '"You must rest, sweetheart," said T. "I will go with you," she whispered. "No," said I. ; "I have «tern work. You have seen enough, too mu«h. You must rest." j "What will ra do?" she asked anxious- /. ; ly' " You wont-—" " I must visit our camp and see what has ,j. happened. I fear the worst. I have dis- / covered many , things during this terrible v>; night, and lam afraid. Ah, but I have dis- ?'■. covered a wonderful thing too!" I cried, ||? stooping to'her, and gathering her in my arms. I kissed her damp eyes, and she : j crept closer. '?/ I stood up, and faced the nawn, which came with /growing beauty. Away on the ■" . broad and [neutral plain of the sea was a I .'dark smudge visible against the gindinil |'/; ; ; lights oi the ..ast. I stooped again, and! -;;, Picked up Ariadne in my arms, aud carried II Eer'deeper into the recesses of tho opening v in which-we had sought refuge. It was '•. : hka a small gravel quarry, in the side of 'f' the slope on which we were, and was grown %'; plentifully with bushes. ■\. '•': "You are safe here, sweet," I told her. '■'-■-■■ *'I will return very shortly." ;'<: ■ . "But you will not—you will take care," she pleaded, clinging to me. p ' I lelfc in my coat pocket for the knife, .' jj *Qd gave if to"her. As I did so something .-,-,:;, tamhl?d cm,, of the pocket to the ground. But I was in too great a flutter to give heed to this. "I will take care, child," I said. "And **%. I leave you my knife.. No one will 11-jv'' ■:'; ■ .']■■-' ' '

', ■ — ■ • '.- - -.■■■■A I - seek you here, but this will give you a greater sense of security." r I comforted her fears, kissed be?, disengaged myself from her arms, and |ed. From the quarry-like refuge I, made straight for the mutineers' camp,' , I was without weapons of any kind, and J remembercrJ the revolver of the wretched Heaven. The light of tho morning was futon the hillside when I reached it, and thj fire was dying into its embers, as if it hat. been a wild thing that feared the day and crept to earth. There was no sign of life anywhere; bnt the light had found its way into the recesses of the hut, and a shaft plajM weakly 11 on the dead man's face with its gjassy eyes. With a shudder I withdrew the revolver from his stiff fingers, and secure;! the cartridges also. Then, thus armed? for emergencies, I set out for the stream When I had crossed, it I appwached our old camp with caution, for I di| not know what might have happened. But I saw nothing to alarm me., and so j noiselessly reacntd the barricade: no one (was visible, and the fires here also were /fiiling. I climbed the brushwood, revolver in hand, but was challenged by none. • It was as the camp of the dead. Present!}, I noticed tho body of a man lying in ai awkward heap, with his lace to the slj. . I recognised him as one of the mutineers. So our party had made a gallant aght for it. I could not doubt what had happened. Overpowered and surprised by the nperior numbers of their opponents. Hullidiy and McLeod and Marley had fallen ffctims to the treachery of Davenant and the ferocity of the mutineers. I glanced up; at the Pulpit, and my eyes detected some figures crawling on the cliff like flies. The treasure was in their hands. Sick at heart, [ entered the central hut. which Halliday; had occupied, and as I did so a groan reacted me. I looked carefully about me; and discovered Halliday securely fastened, .land and foot, I had only just time to roleise him when in the farther corner I saw mother figure. On examination this proved ',o be McLeod, similarly bound. I cut his tends also, and presently he had recovered enough to sit up, chafe himself, and tell lis story. Poor Halliday was only half conscious owing to a severe blow on the head. The mutineers, according to McLeod, hadjnade the assault at ten o'clock, just, as the start was being made on the expedition, ji came with dramatic unexpectedness, and tie issue was never in doubt from the first. Ihey had attacked from the stream, and seoiied "to be aware of our dispositions. McLeod seemed puzzled by this, but it was no soiree of wonder to me with my newly acquired knowledge of Davenant. "We made a struggle for it." said McLeod sadly. "But it was a one-sided business. Halliday went down at once, and Collins and one'of the stckera were shot. I didn't, se& Marley." f j "I must look," I said, rising, for my own tale could wait. "Just give a glance at Halliday, while I search she camp." I went out, and succeeded in discovering Marley also bound, and swearing like a trooper. Near by wis Collins, with a bullet in his thigh, and a resigned expression on his face. Carter had been clubbed with a gun, and was secured like the others. Tho stoker had been shot d?ad. There was no sign of tho Frenchman. ' Thus our party was reduced to McLeod, Carter, and myself,"ablebodied members, if we omit Marley, w,ho was still something of an invalid, Halliday, and Collins, and the remaining hand, more or less hoi' 3de combit— all seven. I made out that the mutineers must, at least, couut ten ashore,'to say nothing of those who had seized the saip. It was impossible for us to continue the unequal struggle; there was rothing before us but capitulation. These thoughts were moodily in my head while we were mustering our little company of wounded and broken men. Luckily for himself, Halliday had not. realised his position, and was only half alive. " It's all up," said McLeod bitterly. " I'd like to have just one more go afc the blighters," said sick Marley in his growling voice. / I was looking toward at the Pulpit, where the crawliig flies were visible at work. " No," said I. "You're off duty, and I command here. Ye'ie going." A shrill cry, a.squeal as of a bird that, flew in the heavej overhead, came down to us. '• WhatVthft?" asked McLeod.. "Good God!"'exclaimed Marley. "It's a man It's — We held our oreath; a fly had beeu detached from theheight, was falling. . . . It struck the neks below tho Pulpit, just where Wade hid fallen. Marley's fa<e was livid, and McLeod's natural red mlour went. Overhead the ruffians were fighting, maybe in their greed of gold. - j '" Yes, I giess we'll go," said Marley, and turned awar. Wo got the remnant of the camp together,; ;in« started at once, going down by the stream, McLeod supporting Halliday, Collins tottering weakly, and Carter aidin<T the otl/er wounded man. ° "I gam they've done for that poor devil Dave|ant,' remarked Marley pensively, "Not a bit of it," said I. "That's my storft which you haven't heard; and it's another reason why we should reckon it's all tp. Da-Tenant's one of them. ■ It was his treachery that caused tho attack last nirfit. ' s lmazemcnfc and incredulity followed on ins statement, but I educed my arguments aid my evidence, and they were silent. They did not even seem to have spirit left p stigmatise properly so base and cowardly ind 'traitorous a scoundrel. f "Tho Frenchman's gone," said Marley feebly. "Is he in it too?"

j/' "No; I can't believe that," I said. "I /should say he had run awav. He's not a combatant, and he would not. think he was called upon to fight for us." We were bound for the creek, where, it will bo remembered, we had concealed our boat, and by the time our explanations had been exchanged we had almost reached it. A heavy gloom rested upon us. We were defeated, and had but a hopeless outlook. I was roughly projecting a plan in myrmind, but that was by no means a solution of our difficulties. We had lost the treasure ; we were a broken party, with several wounded to embarrass us ; and we had lost our line of

retreat. It remained only that we should find our way back to the cove in which wo had landed at the outset, where w& should, at least, be supplied with stores for the time being. After that—well, it would serve no good purpose to look too far ahead in that hour of despair. We emerged from the undergrowth and came out upon the sandy margin of the little creek. As we did so, "a cry of amazemeub issued from Jfarley. I followed his gaze; and there in the "offing, her twin black funnels throwing clouds astern, was a big steamer. CHAPTER XVII. THE SiX palms. Wo stood staring for some minutes in silence, for the surprise had been complete and now I recalled^that smudge of darkness I had seen earlier upon a neutral purple water. She must have been making a smart passage to have come up so soon. I judged she was distant about four miles, but she was drawing rapidly nearer. The appearance of the steamer opened up new avenues of thought, and our hearts lifted. "God's providence! By George, it is!" exclaimed Marley. McLeod, looking out undor the hollow of his palms, said with characteristic caution:

" She won't be coming here; she'll be going about, and will pass four miles off at least."

"We must signal at once," I said, and began to go about the creek for materials for a fire.

"The boat!" exclaimed Marley, "that's our ticket. They'll see a boat if we put up a signal from it.' He scurried off to its hiding-place under Carter's guidance, whilo I quickly made calculations. It would take me fifteen minutes at least to reach the place in which I had left Ariadne, so that more than half-an-hour would necessarily elapse before V\ie boat could start. I told McLeod exactly how things stood, and he agreed that it would be well to light a bonfire as an alternative signal to the steamer, even at the risk of attracting the attention of the mutineers.

" Get all aboard and ready to start directly I get back," I said as I hurried away. " I ascended the stream by the left bank as speedily as I could, and when I paused to take breath it was upon a little elevation. The sweat was running down my face, for the sun, young as it was, streamed down roughly in those latitudes. 1 turned to get the sea wind, and saw the strange steamer still at her original distance from the island, and I wondered if she were going to anchor. Ilalliday's story of the chart, and the old man and his nephew in New Zealand, re-

turned to my memory. Was it possible, I asked myself, that here was a, second expedition after the treasure? Suddenly I heard the sound of angry voices raised in shouting, which came from the hills, and I guessed that the mutineers were quarrelling. I resumed my way with increased speed, resolved that nothing should come between mo and my mission. Soon I recognised a palm-tree, and presently I was in the recess among the bushes whero my love awaited me. She sprang to mo joyously.' " Oh," I'm so glad you've come safely," she cried. " I was afraid "Hush!" said I softly, holding her to mo; for at that moment there was in my ears a noise. It grew louder into a shouting; and then I heard the sound of feet heavily pounding on the earth, and the cracking of branches, as if a. body was pushing through the undergrowth in haste. We listened in silence, for the noise approached us. "We are safe," I whispered. She squeezed my arms, as if to reassure me that she was not afraid. The noise nowsoamo nearer, and I heard an oath. Someone was blundering down upon us. I drew my revolver and waited. There were more sounds from above, and then a, voice: " Damnation, and all for a cellar of bally empties!" I knew that voice. It was Clifford's. What did it signify? "Here, give me a. shove, will you?" it proceeded. My foot's caught," arid there was muttering, and a eruck, and another voice, the namby-pamby voice of Davenant, the traitor.

" It may bo bad, but it will be worse if we don't lake care. If they attract the attention of that vessel we're done. Come along, sharp." "How the —— did they get loose?" grumbled Clifford, and the voices and the footsteps blundered away into the distance. I was aware by now that my task was not so easy as it bad promised to be. What exactly had happened was by no means clear, but I made a guess at it._ The mutineers had been disappointed in the treasure ; possibly it had not come up to their expectations ;' and now they were frightened by'the strange vet-sol. Our party had got free, and being in possession of a boat, might succeed in reaching the steamer. In that case the plight of the gang was desperate, and Davenant knew it. _ I could picture them all in a wild and frantic rush to the sea. What was their object? They had their boat somewhere. They could eithor gain the shelter of the Duncannon, and run for it, which was a. counsel of despair, or they could try to prevent our party from communicating frith the stranger. That was their more likely course, and explained this precipitate*race for the sea. It also gave me pause. How was Ito conduct Ariadne to the boat in safety with those turbulent and unscrupulous ruffians between ? I was sorely preplexed, but there was no time to pause. I must act at once; and so we began to hasten in the wake of the mutineers towards the creek, keeping a wavy watch for the enemy. We penetrated the undergrowth for ten minutes in silence, and at last came out on a rise which was bare of vegetation. The sun dazzled the eyes, and leapt in sparkling flashes on the sea below. The steamer in the offing caught my sight, and away to the left the Duncannon at anchor. A great clamour came back to us, for we were now not more than a quarter of a mile from the creek. And as I looked I was astonished to see a. boat put out from beneath the i fringe of underwood that bounded my I vision and creep upon the face of the sea. i The shouting- increased in volume info a j confuted pandemonium of sound. j "mjpat is it?" asked Ariadne, clutching i me.":*,"

"It is our boat," said I, straining my eyes. « '* I can recognise Marley, and that must be Halliday in the bows. They've put. out to avoid bring attacked." _ But still I could not understand the situation. Why were they not being pursued? I expected every moment to see the second boat leap after the first, but it did not, a.nd I wondered if by chance the mutineers had their boat on a remoter part of the island; in which case the odds were in favour of our friends. But as I gazed, fascinated, the uproar of fury did not abate on the beach, and now. in sweeping the purview with my glances, I was aware of a. boat that crawled under the shadow of the bluff eastward. It was tenanted, as I could make out- in the strong light, by one man only. What did it mean? Was it possible that this was the mutineers' boat? At a 10-sg what to make of it all, J gazed. The boat with the single occupant having mad© the bluff now turned, and stood out to where the tramp lay, swinging at anchor. It must, then, be one of the mutineers, who had stolen Iris comrades' boat.

But now my thoughts came back to our position. We were left upon the island with the infuriated mutineers. I could not doubt thai Marley and McLeod had waited for us as long as they had dared to do, and I could not blame them that they had pushed off. It was their manifest duty, as the capture of the boat by the gang would have been fatal to us all. " Besides, it had been arranged that we should proceed to the cove. Thither, therefore, I must forthwith convey Ariadne, and to do so in safety, obviously wo must travel along the backbone of the hills, away from the more o;>en strand and seaboard. I explained to 'her what must be done.

"I trust you," she said, gazing at me earnestly, as a child might gaze at its father. "I know you can do anything. I am not afraid." Suddenly.she put- her hand to her bosom. "But see; I forgot. What is this? It fell out of your pocket when you gave me the knife. And I opened it. There is an old piece of paper in it." I took it from her, and recognised now that this: must be the hard object I had dug out of the cavern on the Pulpit. I turned it over, and scratched it with the knife. It was metal, and, it seemed, silver. It looked like an old silver snuff-box. The lid gaped, for dirt in the hinges would not allow of its being fully closed down again. I opened it, and drew out a discoloured, mouldy piece of paper. It was not more than three inches long, but was' almost as thick as cardboard, and had ken doubled. I .straightened it out curiously. It was dulled with age and earth stains, but there were certain marks upon it, discernible at once. On examining these close-, ly I made out big clumsy lettering slantwise : "FOR JAEE." Below this the paper was black with grime, but a certain, amount of loose dirt which was its envelope flaked to the touch of the lingers, and I could perceive that the lettering continued, still in that gross, uneducated hand. "... Oved Headland 6 Palms, N.N.W. 7 foot. Jan. 18. . . ." Nothing was distinguishable after that, for all ended in a great blur. What, did it signify? Ariadne at this moment uttered a little cry, and drew my attention from the paper. " Look," she cried. I glanced out to sea, and saw that our boat was some way off the island, but in the distance the stranger steamer seemed very dim. Would they bo able to attract her attention?

"What shall wo do?" she asked, putting her arm in mine confidingly. " They have left us."

"Child, are you afraid?" I asked. She shook her head, smiling. " Not with you." My gaze fell again upon the snuff-box and the paper in my hands. "Let me tell you something," I said in a quiet voice. ■ When I gave you that knife this fell from my pocket. I had forgotten it was there. I dug it up the night before last in the cavern of the Devd's Pulpit. I was digging for treasure, and I came upon this. I thought it was a stone —anything. I thought no more about it. You "opened it, dear, and I find it is a snuffbox. It must be over 100 years old; and it was buried with the treasure."

Ah, but there is no treasure," she said. "No; the mutineers found the chests emptv," I said. " But it is clear that there was treasure there once. It was doubtless used by the men who had possession of the chart during the last century. Can you exnlain this. Ariadne mine?—' For Jake, oved Headland 6 palms, N.N.W. 7 foot. Jan. 18?'" "What does it mean?" she asked, her dainty brows in a frown, "I'm guessing, Ariadne mine: but this is my guess: I've got into fairyland this past)'night. I stand now in faery with the queen of that divine kingdom. Will she deign to give me her hand?" I took it, and drew her nearer, so that her fair head rested on my shoulder. " If one day. sweetheart, an adventurer had come to the conclusion that the hoard was in too inaccessible a position, might he not have romov-.

Ed it? 'Oved;' observe. Moved might lie in that. Jake might be a friend, a partner. And the' rest, the rest that is decipherable, N.N.W.—a headlandand six palms and — well, I can't guess any further, but the date i.s incomplete-. What think you .of that, my Queen of Faery? Anything may happen in this wonderful world." I kissed her softly, and sho lifted iher glowing eyes to me. "The treasure'*' she panted. "The treasure," I said, ami looked out again to sea. " They are making signals to the steamer, and if they get her attention she will put back and "rescue us. We are safe for the present, and in any case we would he better away from here. Marley : will expect us at the cove, where the I steamer will undoubtedly call. In the ; meantime" " You mean we will make the venture that paper?'' she interrupted eagerly. "If you will, my dearest." "I will go to the world's end with you/' she said simply. Holding her hand, I pulled out my watch, and glanced at the position of the sun. I made* a rough calculation. " Our way lies over the spur yonder," I said. "It's not so difficult as eastward, and wo shall be out of the way of the mutineers." Suddenly Ariadne looked at, me piteously. "Oh, how -hungry I am!" she said. "I've just found it out." "I'll promise you a breakfast," said I, "in an hour's time. Come." Wo set out at once, and when we reached the mutineer's camp I left her and turned into it to forage. I avoided the hut in which the dead Heaven lay, but found another in which were some "tins of food and some bottles. I took as many of the former as I could carry, and put a bottle of whisky into my pocket; and then I rejoined Ariadne, and we resumed our gradual ascent. We halted an hour later on the heights by a little gushing waterlall to eat and rest. I filled a gourd, which I scooped out, with sparkling water from the stream, emptied a, little whisky into it, and bade Ariadne drink it. This she did with a wry face, but she had had so terrible an experi- . ence during the last twelve hours that I thought the stimulus was necessary. She was bearing up bravely under the stress of excitement, but it was possible at any moment that she might collapse. After resting for half-an-bour in the flickering shadow and the cool air we resumed our way, and that, with the vision of the boat like a dot below and the distant steamer with its trail of smoke, was the last we saw of the southerly sea for some time. (To be continued on Saturday next.)

[PUBLISHED BY. SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.] THE LIBEBATIONIST. — — '*>-

BY HAROLD BINDLOSS. t [COPYRIGHT.] CHAPTER XlX.—(Continued.) He rose, and buckling on his sword went down the outer stairway, while Benicia sat still with her cheeks burning. She fancied Dom Clemente had meant a good deal more than he had said, but, after all, that did not greatly trouble her. She was not one who counted the cost, and it was not quite clear that she had failed, though sho knew troops had been despatched to head off Ormsgill from the coast. It was possible that he had flipped past them, and the Palestrina would be waiting at the Bahia. Santiago, and then it flashed upon her that it would not be difficult for her father to send the man in command of the troops instructions to proceed direct to the Bania by a last messenger. While she considered the point it happened that the officer ho had handed the instructions to came up the stairway. -' "J. wonder if you know where the messenger Pacheco is, Senhonta?" ho said. " I have an urgent errand for him." Benicia saw that he had a packet in his hand, and a swift glance at the table showed her that the writing materials were not exactly as they had been laid out an hour or two earlier. Somebody, it seemed, had written a letter, and she could make a shrewd guess at its purport. For a moment she stood looking at the officer, and thinking hard. It was evident that her father had a, certain liking for Ormsgill, but sho felt that he would probab'y not allow it to inlluenco him to any great extent. Ho was apparently working out some cleverly laid plan of his own, and it was evident that she would incur a heavy responsibility by meddling with it, but after all Ormsgill's safety stood first with her.

" I am not sure, but I think I know where he is," she .slid. Sho left the officer waiting, and entering her own room lustily wrote a note. Then •she went down the inner stairway with it in her hand, and crossing the patio glanced up for a moment at the balustrade above. Fortunately, the officer was not leaning over it, and did' not see her slip into a, storeroom where a big dusky man was talking to the negress cook, with whom, as it happened, ho was a favourite. Western Africa, is indifferently supplied with telegraphic and postal facilities and messages are still usually carried by native runners. There were none "of them anywhere about that city as fast or trusty as Pacheco, and Benicia smiled as she looked at him. He was lean and hard and muscular, a .man who had made famous journeys in the service of the Government, which was exactly why she did not wish him to be available for another one.

" I have a message for the Senbora Blanco," she said. "I should like her to get it before she, goes to sjeep in the afternoon, and yon will start flow, but if it is very hot. you need make no great haste in bringing me back the answer." Pacheco rose with a grin. "It is only two leagues to the plantation," he said. " Though the road is rough, that is nothing to me." Then the plump negro woman caught Benicia's eyes, and, though she said nothing, there was comprehension in her dusky face. The girl went out into the patio satisfied, and stood waiting behind a, creeper-covered trellis. She felt she could leave the matter in the hands of the negress with ' confidence. ' The latter turned to the messenger with a compassionate smile. "You have the sense of a trek ox. It is in your legs," she said. " The senhorita does not wish you to distress yourself if the day is hot." "But," said Pacheco, "it is always hot, and no journey of that kind could weary me." The woman mado a little grimace. " The trok ox is slow to understand and one teaches it with the stick. Sometimes the same thing is done with a man. It seems the senhorita does not wish to see how fast you could go." At hist Pacheco seemed to understand. "Ah," he said, "there are thorns in this country. Now and then one gets one in hi? foot." The senhorita would be sorry if you came home limping. Once or twice I have cut my hand with the chopper, and she was kind to me."

The man chuckled softly and went out, and Benicia standing in the shadow felt her heart beat as she watched him slip across the patio. There would probably be complications if the officer saw him from above. Nobody, however, appeared among the pillars, and the shadowy arch that led through the building was not far away. ' The negro's feet fell softly on the hot stones, and though the slight patter sounded horribly distinct to her nobody called out to stop him. He had almost reached the arch when a uniformed figure appeared between two of the pillars, and for a moment the girl held her breath. If the man moved another foot it was evident that he must see the mes» senger, but, as it happened, he stood where he was, and next moment Pacheco, who turned and looked back at her with a grin, slipped into the shadow of the arch. Then Benicia wont back into the house with a little quiver of relief running through her. It would, she knew, bo possible to obtain other messengers, but none of them were so well acquainted with the native paths which traverse the littoral o:' so speedy as Pacheco, and she did not think ho would be available until the evening.

In the. meanwhile the officer waited above, until, growing inpatient, he summoned the mayor-domo, who sent for the negress. "Pacheco was certainly in the house because he talked to me, but he went out with a message, and I do not know when ho will bo back again," sho said.

The officer asked her several questions without, however, eliciting much further information, and went awav somewhat Perplexed. He could not help a fancy that Benicia was somehow connected with the messenger's disappearance, but there was nothing to suggest what her object could have been. She was also a lady of influence, and he wisely decided to keep his thoughts to himself. As it happened, Pacheco _ did not arrive until late that night, and another messenger was despatched in the meanwhile. He, however, became involved amidst a wasto of tall grass which Pacheco would have skirted, and afterwards wasted a day or two endeavouring to carry out the directions certain villagers who bore the Government no great good will had given him. As. the result of this the handful of black soldiers had wandered a good deal further inland before he came up with them. In the meanwhile it happened the morning after he set out that Dorn Clement* _ sent for Pacheco. who was just then sitting in the cook's store nursing an injured foot. They exchanged glances when the mayor-domo informed him that his presence would be required in a few minutes, and after the latter had gone out the negress handed Pacheco a sharppointed knife.

" It is wise to make certain when one has to answer a man like Dom Clemente, and the scratch the thorn made was not a very large one." she said. Pacheco took the knife, and looked at it hesitatingly. "The thing would be easier if it was some other person's foot. It will, no doubt, hurt," he said. "It will hurt less than what Dom Clemente may order you," and the negress grinned. A' man is always, afraid of bearing a little pain." Pacheco decided that she was probably right, and set his thick lips as he laid the knife point against the ball of his big toe. Still, for it is probable that there are respects in which the negro's susceptibilities are less than those of the civilised white man, ho steadily pressed the blade in. After that he wrapped up his foot again, and rose with a wry face. " I was given a bottle of anisado, and a _ small piece of silver yesterday," he said. "I almost think I deserve a little more for this."

Then he limped up the stairway leaving red marks behind him, and made a little deprecatory gesture when ho appeared before Dom Clemente. The latter looked at him .in a fashion which sent a thrill dismay through him. "I hear you have hurt vour foot," he said. " Take that bandage off." Pacheco, who dare not hesitate, sat down and unrolled the rag. Then with considerable misgivings ho did as he was bidden and held up his foot. "Ah," said Dom Clemente drily, "a thorn did that. The wound a thorn makes scorns to keep curiously fresh. Well, you can put on the rag again." Pacheco did it as hastily as he could while he wondered with arrowing uneasiness what the man who regarded him with a little sardonic smile would ask him next. Dom Clemeute, however, made him a sio- n to get up. " One would recommend you to bo more careful," he said. "You will have reason to regret it. if the next time 1 have an errand fcnfjpoii you have—a thorn—in your foot. ' J Pacheco limped away with sincere relief, and Dom Clemente, who sat still contemplatively, smoked a cigar. While he did it he once more decided that it is now and then advisable to content oneself with simply looking on, and it was characteristic of him that when he next met Benicia ho asked her no questions.

CHAPTER XX. DESMOND GOES ASHORE.

It was a thick black night, when Desmond brought the Palestrina into the Bahia, steaming at half-speed with the big smooth swell heaving in vast undulations behind her. The blinding deluge which had delayed him for half-an-hour kid just ceased, and at every roll boat and deckhouse shook off streams of lukewarm water. A dripping man stood strapped outside the bridge swinging the heavy lead, and his sing-song cry, which rose at regular intervals, broke through the throb of slowly turning engines. A yard or two away from him Desmond leaned upon the rails peering into the darkness athwart, which there ran a dim black line of bluff. A filmy haze that limmered faintly, white, leapt up between him and it, and the stagnant air was filled with a great, deep-toned rumbling. It rolled against, the half-seen bluff like the muttering of distant thunder, for, though the Bahia was partly sheltered, the vast heave of the Southern Ocean was crumbling upon the hammered beach that night. It does so now and then when there is not a breath of wind.

"It isn't exactly encouraging," he said to bis mate. " The surf seems running unpleasantly steep. There's a weight in it. I'm rather glad the boat's a big one since wo have to face it. Well, you had better get forward, and stand by your anchors. I'll bring her up in another few minutes." The mate went forward with a. handful of dripping men behind him, and left Desmond quietly intent upon the bridge. The latter was quito aware that it would have been prudent to wait for daylight, and recognised that he was doing a reckless thing, but that rather appealed to him. It is also possible to do a reckless thing carefully, and he was, at least, proceeding with a certain circumspection. When the bluff grew a trifle plainer he seized his telegraph, and raised a warning hand to the helmsman. "Starboard!" lie said. "Let her swing when she goes astern." A gong tinkled beneath him, there was a sharper clank of engines, and the Palestrina, swinging round rolled from rail to rail. Then a strident roar of running cable jarred through the rumbling of the surf, and was succeeded by a trumpeting blast of blownoff steam when he rang the telegraph again. When this slackened a little he raised his voice. "If you're ready there, Mr. Wiutlirop, will you bring your men along?" he said. There was a-tramp of feet forward, and when half-seen figures clustered beneath the bridge Desmond leaned over the rails and addressed them.

" Boys," he said, " what we are going to do is in some respects a crazy thing, and while I don't know that we'll have trouble it's very probable. Now there'll be a bonus for the'men who come -with me, but I don't want anyone to go against his will. If any of you would sooner stay here all he has to do is to walk forward, and I'll admit that he's sensible."

There was a little -laughter, but nobody moved. Among those who heard him were shrewd, cold-blooded Scots from the Clyde, and level-headed Solent Englishmen, as well as boys from Kingston and Belfast Lough. Of these latter Desmond had no doubt. A hint that the thing was rash and might lead to trouble was naturally enough for them, but he recognised that there might be occasions when the colder temperament of the others was likely to prove, at least, as serviceable. It was, perhaps, a. trifle curious that these, too, evidently meant to go with him, but there are men who can apparently with no great effort bend others to their will, and, after all, one cannot invariably be sensible. Perhaps, it would-be a misfortune if this were possible. " Sure," said one of them, and he was a Kingston man, " all ye have to do, sir, is to go straight ahead. We're coming with ye, if we have to swim, an' if we have to it's more than I can." One or two of his comrades laughed, and Desmond raised a hand. "It's very probable that you'll have to trv. We'll get the surfboat over, Mr. Winthrop." It would have been a difficult task in the davliffht. for the Palestrina rolled wickedly and the long slopes of water lapped to her rail, but thev accomplished it in th» dark, and when the big boat hove up beneath them dropped into her one by one. They had a few Accra and Liberia boys for the paddles, but .not enough, and white seamen perched among them on the froth-licked gunwale as they reeled away on the bark of a swell. It swept them out from the steamer, and let them drop into a black hollow while the negro at the steering oar yelled as another dark ridge hove itself aloft behind them. Thev drove on with this one and several others that succeeded it, careering amidst a turmoil of spouting froth that boiled round the high, pointed stern, and there was spray all about them, stinging their eyes and in their nostrils, when at last the beach was close at hand. They could not, however, see it. There was nothing visible now but a dim filmy cloud, out of which came a. thunderous rumbling that has its effect upon the stoutest nerves..

There are probably few men who can listen to the crashing charge of the great- combers on an African beach quite unmoved, especially if it is their business to face them in the dark. Desmond glanced astern a moment when the sable helmsman yelled, and then resolutely turned his eyes ahead. Ho had] seen all be wished to, and it was with vague relief ho felt the boat rush upwards under him, for that waiting in the hollow was not a tiling one could bear easily. She went forward reeling, half-buried "in tumbling foam, twisting in spite of the grasping helmsman in peril of rolling over, and out of the spray and darkness "the dim line of bluff came "rushing back to them. Then there was a crash that- flung half of them from the gunwale, and the boot went, up the beach with, a seething white turmoil washing over her, until they swung themselves over and clung to her, waist-deep in the wild welter when the sea sucked tack. Straining every muscle they held he:? somehow, and a voice rose strained and harsh through the din "Where are those - — rollers, boys?" it said. Somebody produced them, and grasping and floundering they ran her up with another comber thundering out of the darkness behind them, and then flung themselves down breathless and dripping on the hot sand. Desmond let them lie awhile, and then leaving the negroes behind the white men clambered up the face of the bluff. Alter that they stumbled amidst loose sand and tufts of harsh grass that now and then cut, through their thin duck garments and twined about their legs, but they plodded on steadily, and when morning broke had made about a league, which was, all things considered, excellent travelling. With the daylight, however, came the rain that beat the soil into a pulp and filled the steamy air. The grass they found in places bent beneath it, and the water flowed about their feet. Still, they held on, drenched, and bleeding from odd scars and scratches, until there broke out dazzling, blistering sunshine which in a few' minutes sucked the moisture from their clothing. Then Desmond, who had heard that littoral described as dry and parched, bade them lie down in the scanty strip of shadow behind a clump of thorns, and a twinkle crept into his eyes as ho glanced at them. They were already freely plastered with mire. A few of them had sporting rifles— he carried one himself —and bandoliers, while some of the rest hid the gig's ash stretchers, and one a big pointed iron bar, but he fancied they would scarcely pass for a big game expedition. For one thing, they had no carriers. Desmond desired only men who could be relied upon to say as well as to do what he bade them, for ho could without any great effort foresee that he might have to grapple with more than physical difficulties. He let them lie for haif-an-liour, and then the rain came and drove them on again. They floundered through it all that afternoon, lay down in wet sand when the sudden darkness blotted out the misty littoral, and rose with the swift dawn, cramped and wet and aching, to plunge into a thick white steam. There wa* a muggy warmth in it wliich relaxed their muscles and insidiously slackened the domination of their will. Thev wanted to lb down, and wondered vaguely why they did not do so, for there are times when man's resolution meltsout of him in that land, and nothing seems worth the trouble of accomplishing. Still, they went on, and evening found them wearied of body and limp of will, as well as very wet and miry, on the edge of a belt of thorny vegetation amidst which there wound a native path. They slept beside it as best they could, and went on again for two mote days nnder scorching sunshine until at last they reached a ridge of higher ground. There were a few palms on the crest of it, and they lay down between them amidst a maze of thorny vines. Darkness was creeping up from the eastward when Desmond sat poring over a section of a large-scale chart which had proved to bo a reasonably accurate guide to the physical features of that littoral. The elevation the ridge formed a portion of was duly marked, as was the creek they had ! cautiously waded through, and not far away there stood another rise which might bo made out from a steamer's bridge. The dots that ran through them both indicated Ormsgi.H's path. He was a man who, at least, endeavoured to provide for contingencies, and ho had for Desmond's benefit plotted out the last stages of his inarch to the coast. The latter, however, remained in unpleasant uncertainty as to when he would arrive, which, in view of the fact that a handful of dusky troops were in. all probability not very far away, was a question of some consequence. When darkness swept down he posted two sentries and then lay down near the smouldering cooking fire. The strip of rubber sheeting he spread beneath him did not make a veryefficient mattress, but worn-out as he was he fell asleep in spite of the mos- : quitoes, and so far as he could afterwards I ascertain the men he had left on watch in due time did the same. When he awakened there was a, half-moon in the sky, and a faint silvery light shone down upon the ridge. Ho 'could see the palm shafts cut against it darkly in delicately proportioned columns, and the ebony tracery of their great curved leaves. Now and then a big drop that fell from them splashed heavily upon the strangling undergrowth, but save for that everything was very still. The fire was red and low, but the smell of wood smoke and hot wet sold was in his nostrils. Ho was wondering drowsily why he had awakened when he fancied that a shadowy figure flitted behind a palm, and turning cautiously he reached out for the rifle that lay bv his side. As his hand closed upon it another figure moved towards him quietly. The moonlight fell upon it and his grasp relaxed on the rifle as he saw that it was dressed in tattered duck. He scrambled to his feet, and Ormsgill stopped a pace or two awav. " Yon are a little ahead of time, ( but considering everything it's fortunate," ho said. (To lie "continued next Wednesday.)