Jack Harkaway and His Son's Escape from the Brigands of Greece

by Bracebridge Hemyng

  CHAPTER XIII.

  THE BRIGANDS' CAMP--A MOUNTAIN BIVOUAC--AN ALARM--THE SOLDIERS--ACHALLENGE--THE BRIGANDS' WIDOW--FATAL NEWS.

  We change the scene.

  And now we find ourselves in a mountain pass, where a number ofrough-looking men are grouped about a camp fire.

  A short distance from this group stands a tall man, leaning moodilyupon the muzzle of his musket, while he watches the zig-zag paths upthe mountain side.

  Upon this man one can see the whole safety of the party depends.

  He is on sentry.

  A prolonged silence was suddenly broken by the sentinel looking up andgrasping his musket nervously, while he turned a warning gesture to thecamp.

  "What is it?" exclaimed one of the party, jumping up.

  "Hush!"

  The sentry turned with his finger on his lips, and motioned him tosilence.

  At a sign from one of the men--evidently a superior--the whole partysprang to their feet.

  A hurried examination of their musket-locks and arms generally showedthat they expected danger, and only waited a word from the sentinel tobe "up and doing."

  The leader stepped up to the sentry, drawn sword in hand.

  "What is it?"

  "The patrol."

  "Soldiers?"

  The sentry nodded.

  "The Carbonari?"

  "Yes."

  The leader grasped his sword nervously, and made a step forward asthough he would have dashed through the ravine and charge the militaryalone and unaided.

  But if such were his intentions, he speedily altered his mind. "Perishthem!" he muttered; "and curse their spying!"

  "We could pick them all off from here," said one of the men--a huge,burly fellow, who had climbed up to a projecting rock commanding anextensive view. "All down to the last man."

  And as he spoke, he brought his gun up to his shoulder with an ominousgesture.

  "Hold, Toro!" ejaculated an English voice. "Your hasty imprudence willspoil us."

  "Bah!" said Toro, replying in the same tongue. "You are over prudent,Hunston. Why should we not destroy them while they are in our power?"

  "What if one escapes?"

  "One should not," retorted the Italian savagely; "no, nor half a one."

  "And where is the good if we succeeded, as you say?"

  "Good!" reiterated Toro, passionately. "Are they not our sworn foes?Are they not here in pursuit of us? Good!--why, will it not lessen thenumber of our enemies by their number at least?"

  "Yes, perhaps," replied Hunston. "And if successful, it would sothoroughly alarm the country, that it would cause a whole army to besent after us, and make the end a mere question of time. Let one escapeto tell the tale and it would bring them down to this spot, our safestplace in the mountains, and hitherto undiscovered by our enemies."

  Toro grumbled.

  Yet there was so much truth in what Hunston said that he could urgenothing further in favour of violent measures.

  The sentry, who was still on the watch at the fissure in the rocks,here turned round and motioned them to silence.

  "Not so loud," he exclaimed, in a whisper; "they can hear something;they are looking our way."

  "Hah!"

  In fact, the military were so near, that they could be heard plainlyenough giving their words of command.

  "Halt! Ground arms!"

  The rattle of their rifles was heard distinctly.

  The officer then could be seen taking observations through a shorttelescope which he carried suspended by a strap to his side.

  He glanced all about the place and fixed for some little time upon thefissures and rocky passes, resting longer below the very one at whichthe sentry was posted than elsewhere.

  But although it would seem to have aroused his suspicions, it wasevident that he could see nothing, for, after a few minutes, he loweredhis glass and shut it up.

  The reason of this was, that where the sentry stood was completelyshadowed by the overhanging rocks, so that he was invisible to them,although they could be distinctly seen by the sentry.

  The scrutiny appeared to satisfy the officer.

  "Shoulder arms! Left wheel! March!"

  The measured tramp of the soldiers was distinctly heard.

  Fainter and fainter it grew until it died away.

  The sentry watched them in silence for several minutes before he spoke.

  Presently he turned round to his comrades and nodded.

  "Safe," he said. "They have turned by the crossroads; the last man isout of sight."

  "That's prime," said our old friend Tomaso. "Then now to dinner."

  The sentry was not lost sight of--indeed, he was not the man to allowhimself to be forgotten, for before the meal had been long in progresshe reminded them that he had such a thing as an appetite about him by avery rough address.

  "Gluttons," he said to the party generally, "do you think only ofyourselves? Am I to mount guard for ever?"

  They only laughed at this.

  "Right, Ymeniz," said Toro; "turn and turn about is but fair. Matteo."

  "Present," returned one of the men, jumping up and saluting with astiff military action, which told that he had once served in the army.

  "Relieve guard, and let Ymeniz take your place here."

  Matteo picked up his musket and marched up to the rocky pass, while thelate sentry joined the feast.

  Now while the guard was changed, without any particular demonstrationof reluctance upon the part of the new sentry himself, Tomaso made avery wry face.

  "Our comrade Toro gives his commands as naturally as though he were ourleader."

  Toro flushed up at this.

  "And why not?" he said, almost fiercely.

  "Why not?" echoed Tomaso, with a sneer. "Oh, I could give severalreasons."

  "Give them."

  "Nay, one will suffice."

  "Well."

  "Our only chieftain is the gallant Mathias."

  "And he is in prison."

  "True; but that doesn't prove you to be our leader while poor Mathiasis in the hands of the Philistines."

  "Bah!" replied Toro, impatiently. "Someone must command while Mathiasis away."

  "Then there are others who should command here in his absence inpreference to those who are new comers."

  "Who are they?"

  "You haven't far to look," returned Tomaso, drawing himself uphaughtily; "myself, for instance."

  Toro burst into a loud and derisive laugh.

  "You?" he said, contemptuously.

  "Yes, I."

  "Why, I have led a band of gallant fellows years ago--a band of thriceour strength; aye, and what is more, I have led them to victory againand again--to victory and fortune."

  "Your lucky star has not been in the ascendant since you have deignedto honour us with your company," said Tomaso.

  The covert sneer conveyed in this speech made the peppery Italian fireup.

  "What do you mean by that?" he demanded, fiercely.

  "I mean that your gallant followers must have missed so distinguished aleader; pity you could not return to lead them to fresh triumphs,greatly as we should deplore your loss."

  Toro boiled over at this.

  "Do you want to fix a quarrel on me?" he asked, in a voice ofsuppressed passion.

  "No," replied Tomaso, insolently. "When I want to quarrel, I gostraight to my point; I don't beat about the bush. I only want toremind you of your proper place here so fall back, Signor Italiano, andlearn to be more respectful in your bearing."

  Stung to the quick by this, Toro plucked out his sword, and would haverushed upon the other, had not several of the men interposed.

  "Come, come," they said, "none of that. We have plenty of enemies; wecan cut their throats, not our own, when we want to spill blood."

  "Besides," said an old man, "it is profitless quarrelling about theleadership--we have a leader. Poor Mathias!"

  "Right," echoed several voices together, "right. Sit down; noquarrelling."


  "Here," exclaimed an old brigand, "let us drink to Mathias."

  "And his speedy return," added another.

  "Aye, aye, his speedy release."

  Horn goblets were handed round and filled with ruddy wine from a skin,which the old brigand himself produced from his own mysterious larder.

  "To Mathias!"

  "To Mathias!"

  A ringing cheer was heard, and the goblets were drained to the verydregs.

  * * * * *

  "Who goes there?"

  "A friend."

  "The word."

  "Mathias."

  "Advance, friend, and give the countersign."

  This challenge was replied to, and a woman appeared at the narrowentrance to the mountain pass.

  Slowly she walked through, her head drooping and her eyes fixed uponthe ground.

  They recognised her now.

  It was the wife of their chieftain, the bold Mathias.

  "I scarcely knew you," said the sentry, apologetically.

  She looked up and smiled in a strangely vacant manner.

  The other said nothing. Her manner impressed them with ugly feelings.

  Instinctively they felt that some fresh calamity had happened to them.

  In fear and trembling they anticipated the evil tidings which shebrought, although, of course, they could not guess at its exact nature.

  "Did you succeed!" demanded the old man.

  She nodded gravely.

  "You saw Mathias?"

  "Yes."

  Her answer was given in the same vacant manner, and staring fixedlyinto the very midst of them, she appeared to see nothing.

  "Did you tell our brave captain how eagerly we look forward to hisrelease--how anxiously we long for the moment when he shall be againhere amongst us--at our head?"

  It was the old brigand who spoke.

  She gave him a strange look, from which they could gather absolutelynothing, and her eyes dropped again to the ground.

  The heavy, unpleasant feeling deepened.

  Scarcely one of them had the courage to address her again.

  An oppressive silence fell upon them all.

  They looked at each other in silent, awkward expectation, all, bolddesperadoes as they were, cowed into silence by her manner.

  "You succeeded in seeing him?" said Hunston.

  "Yes," she said, quietly.

  "And you bade him be of good heart?--you told him that we were making aplan in his behalf--a plan which could not fail of success? You said--"

  The woman looked up.

  "Nothing!"

  "What!"

  "Nothing," she slowly repeated, "nothing. I saw him, but it was toolate to speak those words of comfort."

  "Too late?" iterated Hunston, eagerly, "too late?"

  "Ah, too late for words of comfort, for menaces, or for any thing."

  "Surely you do not mean--"

  He could not complete the sentence, but she helped him out--

  "I do," she said, in a hollow voice, and nodding her head gravely, "Ido mean that he, Mathias, the brigand chief is dead!"

  The brigands, one and all, leaped to their feet, snatching up theircarbines, while from their throats issued a deep cry of revenge.

  Dead! The word thrilled them one and all with horror.

  The bold Mathias dead!

  Prepared as they had been by her manner for some dire Calamity, it cameupon them like a thunderclap. The awful calm manner of the chieftain'swidow impressed them more than if she had thrown up her hands in wilddespair and given way to the noisiest demonstrations of woe.

  After some few minutes, one ventured to break the awesome silence.

  "How did he die?"

  The brigand's wife turned from her questioner with a shudder.

  "Ask me nothing yet. I am not able to speak of that at present; give metime to conquer this weakness."

  "If I ask, it is that I may seek vengeance upon his destroyer," saidTomaso, the speaker.

  Her eyes sparkled, and the colour rushed into her pale cheek at theword. "Vengeance--aye, vengeance. Well spoken, my bold Tomaso;vengeance is something to live for, after all; vengeance we'll havetoo. We'll glut ourselves with it; a feast of vengeance we'll have.""We will, we will!" shouted the brigands, as though with one singlevoice.

  "These English and these Americans shall die."

  "They shall!"

  "We'll exterminate them, root and branch."

  "Aye, aye."

  "Firstly, these Harkaways shall fall, then--"

  "They die."

  "Does Mathias owe his death to Harkaway's band?" demanded Hunston.

  "Was not this Harkaway the prime mover in all our disasters?"

  "Curse him!"

  "Aye, curse him!"

  Toro here stepped forward in the centre of the circle which thebrigands had formed.

  "If Harkaway is to be dealt with," he said, "I will undertake to leadyou to triumph within three days."

  Cheers greeted this speech until Tomaso stepped forward.

  "If we want a leader," said he, "we can elect one; we are not in needof any man to elect himself."

  "Stand back," said Toro angrily.

  "Fall back yourself," retorted Tomaso, "and obey your superior."

  "My superior? Ha, ha! He does not live here," ejaculated Toro fiercely.

  The old brigand here once more stepped between the disputants andinterfered.

  "Why quarrel over a dead man's shoes while his widow is still insight?"

  Tomaso fell back at the rebuke, but Toro, less thin-skinned, stuckboldly to his text.

  "If I offer to lead you against the enemy," he said, "it is solely forour interest generally, not for mine alone."

  "Oho!"

  "Aye, and I can prove it."

  "Do so."

  "I will."

  "Hear him," said Tomaso derisively: "hear our general benefactor speakup for us all."

  Toro turned upon the speaker savagely. "I can speak to you presently,"he said significantly, tapping his sword hilt.

  "You'll find me ready to answer you in any way," retorted Tomasoboldly, also tapping his sword.

  "I doubt not; meanwhile, I offer myself as the leader, for severalreasons: firstly, I know these Harkaways well, and am more fit to copewith them than those who have never met them."

  Tomaso laughed.

  "I doubt that," he said; "why, by your own showing, you have nevergained any signal successes with them."

  "No, but I start where you would have to begin; I am armed byexperience, which you lack."

  "True, true," exclaimed several of the brigands.

  "That sounds fairly enough," replied Tomaso, "but you have ever metwith such signal discomfiture that I, for one, should have smallconfidence in your leadership. I don't speak to uphold myself; let anyother leader be chosen--let one of ourselves to wit, not an Italian, orany other foreigner. Why should not a Greek lead Greeks?"

  "Hurrah!"

  A general cheer greeted this speech. "Tomaso! Tomaso!" they cried;"Tomaso for leader!"

  Toro's face flushed blood red.

  "Hearken to me," he exclaimed, in a voice now hoarse with passion;"Mathias was a great leader, and I felt it no shame to serve under him,but I have been in command of as bold and brave a band as this, one farstronger in point of numbers, and if I am not elected for the command Ishall withdraw altogether. Have me or not, you have the choice; onlythis is my determination; I will accept orders from no man here."

  "Go, then," said Tomaso; "leave us. You came unbidden, and you maydepart when you please."

  A general silence succeeded this speech.

  Toro's aid was not to be despised.

  His huge body and his muscular arm had gained him the consideration ofmost of those lawless men, who literally revered brute strength.

  "Wait, wait," said a brigand, stepping forward. "Let us not be toohasty. Some are for Toro, and some are for Tomaso."

  "Well?" />
  "Say on."

  "Let us put it to the vote, and let each of the disputants pledgehimself to abide by the decision."

  "Good."

  "What says Toro?"

  "Agreed."

  "And so am I," returned Tomaso, promptly.

  "Hands up, then, for Toro."

  Half the hands were uplifted and counted over.

  "Now for Tomaso."

  Up went the hands of the other side, and when they came to tell themoff, it was discovered that the brigands were equally divided in theirchoice.

  "We cannot have two leaders," said the brigand Ymeniz.

  "No, no."

  "Then we must have neither, as the matter stands."

  "Unless one gives way."

  "No," ejaculated the Italian, fiercely, "unless Tomaso likes to decideby the sword which of us shall have the lead."

  "I'm agreed to that," retorted Tomaso, promptly. "Let us fight for it,and may the best man win."

  "Agreed."

  "Hurrah, hurrah!"

  A ring was formed, and preparations made for the deadly encounter.

  As they were not agreed about the choice of weapons, a coin was thrownup, and Toro won.

  Tomaso would have chosen pistols, for he was an excellent shot, and itgave him the superiority; whereas, although not altogether unskilled infence, Toro's superior weight and size gave him a great advantage withthe sword.

  However, there was nothing for it now but to fight.

  The combatants stripped to the waist, and each received his weapon fromhis second.

  They were long, heavy swords, cut and thrust, like the heavy cavalrycarry, and with these there could be but one result.

  Death!

  There were no half measures with these weapons.

  "Now, then," exclaimed the Italian, impatiently, "why this dallying? Onguard."

  "I am ready," cried Tomaso, gripping his sword firmly.

  The swords met with a clash which sent forth a shower of sparks, andboth men recoiled with the force of the shock.

  Recovering themselves quickly, however, they went to work in realsavage style, and chopped away at each other with vicious earnestness.

  Now Tomaso, it was clear, could not hold his own in a battle whereinmere brute force was to have the best of it, and feeling himself at adisadvantage in this respect, he dodged about his adversary as nimblyas Harlequin himself.

  Being very quick-sighted, he saw what sort of a blow was coming ere itwas fairly dealt, and so he shaped his defence.

  If it was a desperate stroke, he jumped out of its reach.

  If a light one, he turned it off upon the edge of his own weapon.

  In this way he worked upon Toro to such an extent that the Italian'stemper got the mastery of him.

  Tomaso was attacking him so closely that the Italian looked like losingthe battle.

  Toro was bleeding from a dozen small flesh wounds.

  Tomaso was, up to this moment, almost unscathed.

  Presently he grew over bold, and incautiously trusting himself withinreach, Toro lunged so sharply out that it was only by the merest shavehe escaped being spitted on the Italian's long sword like a lark on askewer.

  As it was the sword pierced the waistband of his nether garments.

  Tomaso stumbled, and so nearly lost his balance that it took him allhis time to parry the next stroke, which was put in with equalsmartness and vigour. One blow, that might have brought down anelephant, sent Tomaso on to his knees.

  The same stroke made a notch in the Greek's weapon half an inch deep.

  Had he caught the blow upon the flat of his sword, it would have beenshivered to atoms beyond all doubt.

  Toro saw his chance.

  Nor was he at all slow to avail himself of it.

  Quick as thought, another blow fell, and out of his grasp flew theGreek's blade.

  He lay prostrate at the mercy of his adversary.

  "Beg your life," cried Toro, planting his heavy foot firmly upon hisadversary's chest.

  "Never,"

  "Then die!"

  He raised his sword.

  But he paused.

  Was it the action of a brave man to take the life of a defenceless foe?

  Well, it was not the thought of such romantic notions which troubledToro; it was simply because there were spectators.

  These spectators, he knew, would judge it harshly.

  He thirsted for Tomaso's blood.

  Yet he dared not indulge in his brutal passion.

  Therefore, making a virtue of the necessity, he lowered his sword, andspurning his beaten adversary with his foot, bade him rise.

  "Then take your life unasked," he said coarsely, "and in future learnto know and to respect your superiors."

  Toro's speech was received with cheers by the brigands.