THE MAN IN THE DARK.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 10488, 22 June 1910, Page 6

THE MAN IN THE DARK.

(By Albert Payson TerJmnc.)

A SERIAL STORY. CHAPTER IX. A NAPOLEONIC VICTORY. There we stood herded, we three; with a ring of iniknowns about us. Someone was blowing upon tinder. Its dull glare showed a bronzed face crowned by a tasseled Jersey cap. Then a pine knot torch was ignited and a red gleam fell over the ridge. Y\"e were surrounded by a group of hardfeaturccl seamen, tanned and' rugged, callous of hand, tarry of clothing. Sailors of the hardest, roughest sort, as anyone could see at a glance.

One —a huge fellow with gold rings in liis ears and a tricorne hat stuck far hack over the red silk handkerchief that bound his head —strode forward, laughing, cutlas in hand, to greet us. "A" pretty brush with" the dirty gagers!" he cried. "A good lesson to them not to be so quick another time in clapping hand on honest smugglers! There'll be broken heads to nurse at Dover to-morrow unless I'm vastly— Thunder and death!" he broke off, his eye falling on the scarlet-gilt splendor iii' Bi:lle< uniform. '•Who'are you:'" "I can't answer for the rest," replied Holies witli really admirable presence of mind, as he stepped forward into the torcli-glaro so as to shut off the sight of us from the smuggler-captain. "I am an army officer in these parts on sick leave. I was on my way home to-night from a friend's house when I came upon a party of gagers dragging along two smugglers. I begged them to let the unlucky lads go free, and, i'i reply, they seized and bound me. too, saying they would report me at headquarters as a friend of the freetraders. We had scarce gone a hundred yards farther when you fell upon us." "Good lad! Good lad!" shouted the smuggler, smiting him with a resounding blow on the shoulder with his open palm. "There's one decent man, it seems, in the red-coat service, after all! We—"

"And now," put in Bolles. "as I'm weak from my illness, and as I was a bit knocked about in the scrimmage. I'll wish vou all good luck and good night." With a wave of the hand, he was off in the darkness; the little group of smugglers parting with many expressions of rough good-will, to let him

pass. ''"Which of our fellows are you other two;-■•' queried the chief, catching!: up the torch unci flushing it on us. '"And how did it happen yon let a parcel of gagers lay you by the heels like this? Of —Zounds! There's been a pretty blunder hereabouts! These are no men of mine!" "'The misfortune is ours, captain," I said, stepping forward, ''and we thank you from our hearts for your timely service. I and my friends here—-" "But what does it mean?" he interrupted fiercely. "I've' been bamboozled! A lass comes running to the cliffy ten minutes agone and sees our iittie signal-fire in t!u j cave below, where we're waiting for a cargo. She ■v:;l!s down to us that a dozen pagers have taken sonic of our men and are bringing them across the downs from the :<beep huts. "We r!r ; :nber up just in time to rescue a—couple of strangers! "What does it all—Stay! That' red-back officer said you were smugglers. Is lie a liar, too?" "One of the best--and most proficient I have ever met." I replied. "That is why lie is now showing you a clean pair of heels, while we are left in the rain to answer your f|iiestious. If you are ready to accept our apology—and a five-pound-note for drink money —we would like to be moving on." "We'll be moving on pretty quickly, if we be wise." growled the smuggler. "Those runaway gagers will bring their whole company about- our ears, if we don't look sharp. That lying lobsterback there is like enough to bring down the soldiers, too. But we'll clear this thing up first. Who are you, arid how did the gagers chance to be nabbing you? What meant' the lass by screaming such a warning to Us?" "We were seeking refuge from the I rain in a shepherd hut," said I, paI tiently as might be, yet itching to I3e I sale out of this newest tangle, "when the gagers set upon us. That is all I can tell you. -I am sure you will not detain us longer." In the gloom outside the torch-flare I was peering for sight of Claire Deigarde. 1 knew none but she could have hit on so fine a scheme for our rescue. Her knowledge of the coast had, ao doubt, taught her the whereabouts of .the-local smugglers' signal-fire; and she had summoned them to her aid bv the oile plea that could appeal to their lawless, loyal hearts. "I'm still all in rhe dark over it,'' the [smuggler captain was grumbling. "Except that I have risked the lives of my best men for a brace of strangers and for" a lying redcoat. Still. I can't hold you to blame, I suppose. Go your ways, the pair of you. If you're not eagfer for any.reason to meet the law's men, I give you advice to make yourselves scarce with all speed, as shall.we. The whole countryside will be buzzing five minutes after the first of those gagers reaches the nearest village. Our run is spoiled for the night. It would he as safe for a man to walk into a

hornet's nest as tor u.s to try to land a cargo after this, to-night." . "If this," said I, thrusting a ten-pound-iiute into his hand, "will help to compensate your delay and pay you for helping two innocent men —" "Your're a gentleman!" lie an- : nounced, "Let them pass, lads:'this, gentleman and his—" ; •-■ '- He paused, mouth wide open. Iliad moved fonvard. and- had signalled the .Emperor to follow me. Napoleon had stepped forward, in compliance to my gesture, from the knot among men whose greater- stature had half-hidden him. His hat. during "the struggle, had ; been knocked off, and the neckerchief ; had slipped down from his chin. His sparse hair was uncovered, one lock of it falling ,-across his broad forehead. Now he came into the full glow <>f the "torchlight, and the smuggler-cap-tain halted midway in his speech, and looked as though he had seen a ghost. For the briefest instant, smuggler. chief, and French Emperor faced each "other there in the sputtering, lurid light on ihe cliff summit, the rain falling about them rB torrents : the smugglers, looking in wonder at their leader's convulsed, blank visage. Then the momentary spell broke. From the chief's throat, hoarse with astonish- '■ ment. burst the startled cry: i "Strike mc paralytic. but it's Honey!" i The fat was in ihe lire with a veil- ] goance! The men caught up the last word in i a dozen accents of surprise, unbelief, c

and eagerness. They formed a gaping, questioning ring about tlie silent, sta-tue-like figure in their midst. . Not one of them but was a half-head or more taller than the Emperor. Yet, in his speechless, passive dignity, he dominated the lot, as an eagle might :i flock of fat ganders. He, of course, understood nothing of what had been said, save the one word "Boney." He must often have heard, of that eontemp r tuous British nickname. Hearing it nojv. as well as from the the expression on the face of the man who had spoken it, he saw that he was known. Yet lie relaxed not one atom of his cold, masterful dignity. I made an asinine effort to mend the hopelessly shattered incognito. "So you recognise the likeness, too, do you? I put in lightly. "Many another has been startled' by it. It is my servant who —" _."'.. The smuggler made an impatient gesture, as one who brushes aside a persistent fly. That was his sole tribute to my efforts at explanation. "Boney!" he gasped again. "Boney —for ten thousand pounds!" "Captain!" expostulated one of his men. "Your crazy—begging your pardon. What would Boney be doing here on the chalk cliffs? It would be sooicide for him to set foot on English ground; even if he could, which same he couldn't, on account of the network of warships. He's asleep in his camps over there acrost the Channel. This gentleman says—" "Shut up!" snapped tlie chief. "Ain't I got eyes? Didn't I see him the day he was coronated? Didn't he pass within thirty feet of me as he walked in procession to the Tuileries Didn't I see him a score of times before' that in Paris? —I—" Napoleon's cold, fathomless eyes had never left those of the excited chief. Now, for the first time, the Emperor spoke:

"Yous me connaissez done, mon brave?" said he. "V'ous avez raison. Je suis Napoleon." » Tt was my turn to be astounded. For, in place of the haughty, rasping tones which I was accustomed to hear- from those chiselled lips, the French words, were spoken with a singular charm, ;i magnetism that struck a mysterious chord, even in my stolid Anglo-Saxon heart. The beautiful mouth, too, curved into one of the rarest and most memorable smiles I have ever seen. Now, at last, I understood this man's almost supernatural power over men. To this smuggler, he was not posing as Napoleon the Emperor. He was once more the peerler;s commander, for whose smile and word of encouragement brave soldiers were eager to throw away life. Magnetic charm, power that held only good comradeship and no hint of arrogance, fairly radiated from him. The smuggler's accusing, excited glare turned to the dazed look of the bird that is falling under the serpent's spell. "You are right," repeated Napoleon slowly in his strongly accented French. "I am Napoleon. What then " The smuggler shook himself,, as if to gather his wandering wits. "I am a cargo-runner, your Majesty, '.

he made answer in the French of the . Channel ports, "and I am at odds with , the law. But I'm an Englishman, and you're the man who is trying to destroy my country. The country I was ; born in and love. With-you out of the ■ way, England can laugh at those silly ,' armies of yours over there on t'other ' side of the water. You are my pri- [ soner. I don't want to treat you with J disrespect, but you'll go with us to the j nearest garrison. Look sharp, lads' : Fall in on each side of him. l'ou'll come along, too," he added with sudden ferocity, wheeling about toward me. You're. an Englishman who was harboring him. That means you're a dirty traitor to king and country, ami you'll swing for it." "One moment!" interposed the Emperor, making no move to escape or resist, and eyeing the chief with that same air of fatherly friendliness. "We are brothers, you and I, he said, gently. "You fight the unjust revenue laws of your own land, i fight the tyranny and oppression of all lands. You are a smuggler. I am sneered at as a robber of thrones. Are our trades so different? When two brave men meet, there can be no talk of treachery. I have won, even against

great odds. You, too, have won a livelihood against the whole revenue power of England. Shall one brother, by force of numbers, crush down the other, mon frere,?" It is utterly impossible to put in writi ing his rather bald words, with any hope of conveying the wondrous' charm • that found its climax in that last phrase —"mon frere!" So must he have appeared before the ragged, sulky, rebellious army of Italy; when, by a handful of words, he had turned a rabble of officer-slaying mutineers into an invincible, insanely devoted fighting-machine, ready to rush co certain death at his lightest word or. look.

The smugglers —a*ll of whom, of course, understood French after a fashion, as became men who daily dealt with the ports of France —murmured under their breaths. In that murmur the accent of hostile doubt was fast merging into applause. The Emperor, like every demagogue, was quick to take advantage of the first change of feeling on the part of his hearers. Turning suddenly, he faced them all with outstretched arms, his mask-like face alight. • "My brothers!" he cried, his voice athrob and vibrant. "I am in your' hands,' l)o with "me as you will. I Etm your captive. A brave.-inan, captive of brave men. I speak to you, not as Emperor of the French, but as Napoleon Bonaparte, who has lived and fought and suffered side by. side with men like you, and' who owes all to such men's comradeship and devotion. Your captain says you must lead "ine £0 shameful death. So be it! If here ends my career, -at least I shall have the escort of such gallant fellows as I love best. En avant!"

Yes, it was acting. I knew it. " So—ab the bottom of their hearts —did they. My poor skill as a scribe can give no notion of that acting's marvellous power. Even I —who knew both sides of the nan's character, and realised for what •rreat stake he was playing—was swept away by it. From the smugglers arose a confused shout. They surged upon him as by :onimon consent. Yet no hand was raised to touch him. It was the impulsive movement that ivill sometimes sway a crowd, large or small—a movement bred of excitement, ind without definite motive. "Who will lie first to claim the honor ;f seizing and dragging to death Naloleon .Bonaparte':'" he demanded. His eyes swept the circle with lightring glance, then focused upon the hief's flushed face.

"What is your verdict, my brother?" lie asked, holding out his hand toward the smuggler, while again that rare smile Hashed across his face. The chief made no instant reply. He seemed to be battling confusedly for words. His stalwart body began to tremble. T'nder the fixed regard or the Emperor's eves his own faltered. .Moving like a man in a dream, he stumbled forward, dropped awkwardly upon one knee, and raised Napoleon s hand to his boarded lips. The cliffs rang to the hoarse, impetuous cheer that burst from his fol-

lowers. The victory was won! Perhaps, :n its results, as mighty a triumph as any the Corsican had ever achieved. The Emperor's pallid cheek flushed ever so faintly, and a gleam shot through those unfathomable eyes of his. He was once more the commander. "And now. mes braves," he ordered, "I wish your escort to the boat that awaits me. ilv time is up, and I must be gone. If it will console your staunch British hearts to know it, yon have my word that my mission on your shores to-night has come to naught. Lead with the torch. 'Tis but a few yards to the path that runs down from the elmtop to where the boat awaits me. Forward !" The smugglers under the dominance of his voice and. presence, fell into rude semi-military formation behind us. Their captain, mumbling to himself some sort of apology for the unwonted burst of feeling that had lured him into kneeling at the feet of his nation's foe, caught the torch from the bearer and led the way. _ For the 'first time in the history of the world, a French monarch was, conducted by a guard of honor composed of loyal Englishmen. ' Thus we traversed the slippery path at the summit of the abyss, marching two by two. The Emper.or was none too great to relish his victory. He walked with gay-step. Under his breath he hummed a_ fragment of the martial air that was ever Ms favorite — the two-thousand-year-old Oriental tune that we. Anglo-Saxons sing to the irreverent words, "We Won't Go Home Till Morning." It was "Malbrouck," the famous French version of the air that the Emperor -loved. Between his teeth lie sang now: "Malbrouck s'en va-t-en guerre, Mironton, mironton, rniroiitaine!''

He sang horribly. By no chance was he ever on the key. It set my teeth on;, edge. ' "Ne'sait qua'nd reviendra —" Then' "a white figure slipped into the path beside us. It was Claire Delgarde. . The Emperor greeted her arrival with scarce a look; but I found her warm little hand, as we plodded forward, and pressed it covertly in my own huge clasp. At the side of his two "dishonorably discharged" servants, and surrounded by a corps of devoted men who till half an hour ago had been his logical enemies, this man of a thousand contradictions passed on in triumph. We had come to within thirty yards of the steep, downward path, when a cry from the rearmost smuggler halted us. . (To be continued.)