SERIAL STORY.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 6314, 14 September 1907, Page 2

SERIAL STORY.

FAIR MARGARET.

(By H. Rider Haggard.) CHAPTER XXlll.—(Continued). By now Honnqmv- was speechless with terror. There he knelt tipoii the floor, glaring at this soft-voiced remorseless woman who had mad© a tool and a idol of him, who had beguiled him there that night, and who hated him so bitterly and with zo just a cause. Peter was spooking now. 1 . “It would be better not to stain our hnnds with this creature's blood, he said. “Caged rats give little sport, and he might be tracked. For my pan;, 1 would leave his judgment to God. Have you no other way, Inez?" ~ , ~ She thought awhile, then prodded the Fray Henriqucs with her foot, saving: “Get up, sainted secretary to the Holy Office, and do a little writing, which will bo easy to you. See, here fare pen® and paper. Now' ITI dictate: “ 'Most Adorable Inez, “ 'Your dear message has reached me safely here in this accursed Holy House, where we lighten heretics of their gins to the benefit of their souls, and of their goods to the benefit of our own bodies ' " “I cannot write it," groaned Henricnir‘6; “it is rank heresy." “No, only the truth," answered Inez. “Heresy and the truth—well, they are often the same thing. They would burn me for it." “That is just what many heretics have urged. They have died gloriously for what they hold to bo the truth, why should not you? Listen," she went on more sternly. “Will you take your clianco of burning on the Queraadoro, which you will not do unices you betray ns, or will you certainly hum more privately, but bettor, in a baker's oven, and within half an hour? Ah! I thought, you would not hesitate. Continue your letter, most learned scribe. Ax© those words down? Yes, Now add these: “'I nolo all you. tell mo about the trial at the Alcazar before their Majesties. I believe that the Englishwoman will win her case. That was a very pretty trick that I played on the most noble marquis at Granada. Nothing neater was ever done, even in tins place. Well. I owed him a long score, and I have paid him off in full. I should like to have seen his exalted countenance when he surveyed the features of his bride, the waiting-woman, and knew that the mistress was safe away with another man. The nephew of the king, who would like himself to be king some day, married to an English waiting-woman! Good, very good,*doar Inez. x tr r }yow, as regards {the Jew, John Castoll. I think that the matter may possibly be managed, provided that tho money is right, for, as you know, I do not work for nothing. Thus—' And Inez dictated with admirable lucidity i those suggestions as to tho rescue of Cas--1 tell with which the reader is already | acquainted, ending the letter as follows :

" ‘These Inquisitors here are cruel beasts, though fonder of money than of blood; for all their talk about zeal for the Faith is so much, wind behind the mountains. They care as much for the Faith as the mountain cares for the wind, or, let us say, as I do. They wanted to torture the poor devil, thinking that he would rain maravedis; but I gave a hint in the right quarter, and, their fun was stopped. Carissima, I must stop also; it is my hour for duty,' but I hope to meet you as arranged, and we will have a merry evening. J-ovo to the newly married marquis, if you meet him, and to yourself you know how much. Your, “ ‘Honriques. " ‘Postsoriptum.—This position will scarcely be as- remunerative as I hoped, so I am glad to be able to earn a little outside, enough to buy you a present that will make your pretty eyes shine.’ “There!” said Inez mildly, “I think that covers everything, and would burn you three or four times over. Let me read it to see that it is plainly written and properly signed, for in such matters a good dea) turns on handwriting. Yes, that will do. Now you understand, don’t you, if anything goes wrong about the matter we have been talking of—that is, if the worthy John Castell is not rescued, or a smell of our little plot should get into ' the wind—this letter goes at once to the right quarter, and a certain secretary will wish that he had never been born. Man!” she added in a hissing whisper, “you shall dies by inches as my sister did." “A thousand doubloons if the thing succeeds, and you live to claim them,” croaked old Israel. "I do not go back upon my word. Death and shame and torture or a thousand doubloons. Now he knows our terms.blmdfold him again, Senor Bernaldez, and away with him, for ho poisons the air. But first you. Inez, be gone and lodge that letter where you know.”

That same night two cloaked figures, Peter and Bemaldez, were rowed in a little boat out to where the Margaret lay in the river, and, making her fast, slipped up the ship's side into the cabin. Here the stout English captain. Smith, was waiting for them, and so glad was the honest fellow to see Peter that he cast his arms about him and hugged him, for they had not met since that desperate adventure of the boarding of the San Antonio. "Is your ship fit for sea. Captain?” asked Peter. "She will never be fitter,” he answered. "When shall X get sailing orders ?” When the owner comes aboard,” answered Peter, "Then we shall stop ■ here until we rot; .they have trapped him in their Inquisition. What is in your mind, Peter Brome?—what is in your mind? Is there a chance?” “Ay, captain, I think so. if you have a dozen fellows of the right English stuff between decks:" "We have got that number, and one or two more. But what's the plan?” Peter told him. "Not so bad," said Smith, slapping his heavy hand upon his knee; "but risky—very risky. That Inez must be a good girl. I should like to marry her, notwithstanding her bygones." Peter laughed, thinking what an odd couple they would make. "Hear the rest, then talk," he said. "See now! On the Saturday, the .Mistress Margaret and I are to be married in the cathedral; then, towards sunset, the Marquis of Morelia and I run our course in the peat bnll-ring yonder, and you and half a dozen of your men will be present. Now, I may conquer or I may fail—" "Never!—never!" said the captain. "I wouldn’t give a pair of old boots for that fine Spaniard's chance when yon get at him. Why, yod will crimp him like a cod-fish!" "God knows!" answered Peter. "If I win, ray wife and I make our adieux to their Majesties, and ride away to the quay, where the boat will be waiting.

and yon will row us on board th© Margaret. If I fail, you will take up my body* and, accompanied by my widow, bring it in the same fashion on board the Margaret, for X shall give it out that in tins case 1 wish to be embalmed in wine and taken buck to England for burial. In cither event, you will drop your ship a little way down tlx© river round the bend, so that folk may think that you have sailed. In the darkness you will work her back with the tide and lay her behind those hulks, and if any ask you why, say that three of your men have not yet come aboard, and that you have dropped back for them, and whatever else you like. Then, in case I should not be alive to guide you, you and ten or twelve of the best sailors will land at the spot this gentleman will show you to-morrow, wearing Spanish cloaks so as not to attract attention, and being well armed underneath them, like idlers from some ship who had come ashore to see th© show. I have told you how you may know Master Casbell. When you see him make a rush for him, cut down any that try to stop you, tumble him into the l>oat, and row for your lives to the ship, which will slip her moorings and get up her canvas as soon as she sees you coming, and begin to drop down the river with the tide and wind, if there is one. That is the plot, but God alone knows the end of it! which depends upon Him and the sailors. Will you play this game for the love of a good man and the rest of us? If you succeed, you shall bo rich for life, all of you/' "Ay,** answered the captain, "and there's_ my hand on it. So sure as my name is Smith, wo will hook him out of that hell if men can do it, and not for th© money either. Why, Peter, we have sat here idle so long, waiting for you and our lady, that we shall be glad of tho fun. At any rate, there will be some dead Spaniards before they have done with us, and, if w© are worsted, Ull leave the mate and enough hands upon the ship to bring her safe to Tilbury. But w© won't be—we won't be. By this day - week wo will all. bo rolling homewards ncross the Bay with never a Spaniard within three hundred miles, you and your lady and Master Castell, too. I know it! I tell you, lad. L know it!" “How do you know it?" asked Peter curiously. "Because I dreamed it last night. 1 saw you and Mistress Margaret sitting sweet as sugar, with your arms around each others middles, while I talked to the master, and the sun went down with the wind blowing stiff from sou-eou-west, and a gale threatening. I tell you that I dreamed it—l who am not given to dreams." (To be continued in Monday's issue.)