by Kirk Munroe
CHAPTER XXIV
CONNELL MAKES GOOD HIS ESCAPE
From the very first Mike Connell had determined not to be captured, ifhe could possibly help it, wisely concluding that he would stand abetter chance of serving his friend in freedom than as a prisoner. Herealized that Ralph Darrell's enmity was especially directed towardsPeveril, and believed that he, therefore, would be the principalobject of attack. At the same time he knew that, no matter howdesperately two might fight against six, there was little hope ofsuccess in face of such overwhelming odds. So, while he was preparedto throw himself heart and soul into the fray, he was also on thewatch for a chance of escape.
The entrance of the Darrell's into the cavern had been so precipitate,and both of them had been so intent upon the object of their coming,that they had forgotten their usual precaution and neglected to closethe door giving them admittance.
It was a slab of stone, carefully fitted to its place, swinging easilyon iron pivots, and usually fastened by a stout spring. Being leftopen, it disclosed a patch of blackness a shade darker than the wallon either side, and this caught Connell's eye just as the rush wasmade.
Believing that here was offered a chance of escape that could beutilized better in darkness than in light, and knowing also that abattle against odds could be more successfully waged under the sameconditions, he used his lantern as a weapon of offence, and therebydashed out its flame at the very beginning of the fracas.
For a moment he entertained a vague hope that he would be able to drawPeveril with him into the place that he had discovered, and that thusthey might effect an escape together. Quickly finding this impossible,he sprang to one side, after knocking down one of his enemies, gropedalong the wall until he found the desired opening, and entered it.
As he did so he came in contact with the slight figure of MaryDarrell, who had here taken refuge at the outbreak of the struggle,and was awaiting its termination in trembling anxiety. Now, thinkingthe new-comer to be her father, and desirous of saving him from harm,she gave the stone door a push that closed it. Then she said:
"I am so glad to have you safely away from those dreadful men, dearpapa! Now you will go back with me to the house, won't you, for I amafraid to go alone?"
"Yes, only hurry!" whispered the Irishman, readily accepting thesituation, but not daring to speak aloud for fear of betraying hisidentity. At the same time the thought, "What a coward the youngfellow is, to be sneaking away from an elegant shindy like the onebehind us! I've a mind to give him a taste of me fist for luck when weget out of this black hole! No, I will not, though. I'll lave him be,for wasn't it him saved Mr. Peril's life, after all?"
Resting one hand lightly on his guide's shoulder, he followed herclosely, and had barely reached the foregoing conclusion when the girlflung open a door, and the two stepped into a lighted room. For amoment their eyes were completely dazzled by its brightness.
Mary was the first to become accustomed to the glare of light, andturned to speak to her supposed father. Upon seeing the face of aperfect stranger she uttered a cry of dismay, and started as though tofly, but the other clutched her arm.
"None of that, young feller!" he said, sternly. "Now that you'vebrought me so far you'll see me farther and show me the way out ofhere. You're a fine, bold chap, ain't you?" he added, in a tone ofscorn. "Look like you was fitter to be a girl than a lad, any day,and, if it wasn't for the good turn you done me friend back yonder,I'd be tempted to give you a kindergarten lesson in the manly art ofself-defence. As it is, I'll let you off this time, provided you'llshow me the way out. But you want to get a move on."
Terribly frightened as she was, the girl still found strength to opena door on the opposite side of the room and motion for the man to passthrough. As he did so she slammed it behind him and locked it. Thenher overwrought feelings gave way, and she sank into a chair, sobbinghysterically.
Furious at finding himself thus tricked, the Irishman's first impulsewas to turn and batter down the door, but a couple of heavy kicksdelivered against it for this purpose brought forth a loud cry fromsome lower region.
"Hi! up dar. What you all a-doin'?"
At the same time it flashed into Connell's mind that his recentenemies of the cavern might appear at any moment and open the door insuch a way as to cause him to regret that it had not remained closed.Besides, was he not capable of finding his own way out of a house?
"Of course I am," he muttered, "and I'd best be doing it in a hurry,too. So good-bye, young feller, and here's hoping we'll meet again."
Then he made his way down-stairs, opened a door, and found himself ina kitchen, confronted by a resolute old colored woman, who, after oneglance at his strange face, let fly at it a ladle of hot water. Thisassault was immediately followed by such a well-directed shower ofplates, pans, and culinary utensils as caused the intruder to utterhowls of pain and make a blind dash for an outer door.
Even outside the house his troubles were far from ended, for shoutingmen were running towards him through the darkness, while at the sametime a dog leaped at him.
Throttling the animal and flinging him off after a vigorous struggle,Connell had next to knock down a man who was attacking him on theopposite side, receive a blow from a broom-handle wielded by AuntyNimmo, dodge several other assailants, and finally to run for hislife.
When the poor fellow at length found himself alone and safe frompresent pursuit, he sat breathlessly on a log, over which he had justpitched headlong, and began to consider his situation.
"You may talk about your dynamite and gunpowder," he said, "but beingblown up with aither of them isn't a patch to what I've gone throughthis night. What with being wracked on a rock in the sea, fightingsmugglers, nagurs, and Polanders--to say nothing of dogs and otherwild animals--beat and battered, torn and scalded, tripped up and lostin the wilderness, and all in the middle of a cruel blackness, is anexperience that any man might be grateful to be done with. If I have awhole bone left inside of me skin, or a rag to me back, it's more thanI'm hoping. Now what'll I do next?
"Will I go back to the house? Indade I will not. Will I make anothertry for the cave? Not so long as I have me right mind. Will I go backto Red Jacket?--and meet them as would ax me what had I done withMister Peril? Not on your life. Where is Mister Peril at this blessedminute, anyhow? At sea on board the smuggler, or I miss me guess. Howwill I get to him? By taking a boat, of course. Where will I find one?At Laughing Fish Cove, to be sure. That's the very place, bedad! andthe sooner I'm getting there the better."
The tug _Broncho_ had reached Laughing Fish about an hour before MikeConnell arrived at this decision. She had come in search of the partyof log-wreckers that she had brought to that place more than a weekearlier, and now those on board were greatly troubled at not finding atrace of the missing men save their deserted camp. Nor could theyobtain any information concerning them from the fisher folk of thecove.
On board the tug was Major Arkell, who had been led by curiosity totake the trip. He was curious to know what had become of the young manwhom he had sent into that region to pick up wrecked logs, and he wasalso curious to ascertain what had become of a large number of thosesame logs that still remained unaccounted for. At the same time hewould like to investigate certain reports that had reached him of thereopening of some old mine-workings in that neighborhood. He had hopedthat his researches might not take him beyond Laughing Fish, where heanticipated finding Richard Peveril prepared to answer all hisquestions. Failing to discover the young man, or any trace of him, theproblems that he had set out to solve became more interesting thanbefore, and he ordered Captain Spillins to start at daybreak on acruise still farther up the coast.
Early on the following morning, therefore, everything was in readinesson board the tug, and its crew were getting up the anchor when theirattention was arrested by the shouts and gesticulations of a man onthe beach.
"Send a boat in and see what he wants," said the manager; and tenminutes later Mike Connell was on board, telling his s
tory to a highlyinterested group of listeners.
Within an hour after receiving her new passenger, the _Broncho_, underfull head of steam, was several miles to the northward of LaughingFish, and well out to sea, in hot pursuit of a small schooner. Thelatter was slipping easily along before the fresh morning breeze thathad recently set in after a night of calm. The water rippled merrilypast her flashing sides, and she was making some six miles an hour. Atthe same time the _Broncho_, pouring forth great clouds of soft-coalsmoke and heaping the smooth water into double white-crested billowsas she rushed through it, was doing two miles to her one, and wouldsoon overtake her.
"Whatever can that bloomin' teakettle want of us?" growled the captainof the schooner as he blinked with half-closed eyes at his pursuer."She ain't no revenue boat, as I can see. Tom, h'ist our ensign as ahint for 'em to keep away."
The sailor obeyed, and a minute later ran the crimson flag of GreatBritain to the main peak, where it streamed out bravely in thefreshening breeze.
"Got a flag aboard this boat, Captain Spillins?" asked Major Arkell ashe watched the schooner from the _Broncho's_ pilot-house.
"Yes, sir, two of 'em."
"Good. We'll see that fellow and go him one better. Set 'em both."
In consequence of this order the Stars and Stripes were quicklysnapping defiantly from both the forward and after jack-staffs of theon-rushing tug.
"Sheer off, blast you, or you'll run us down!" bellowed the captain ofthe schooner as the tug ranged close abreast.
"Is that your man?" asked the manager, of Mike Connell.
"He is. Sure I'd know him from a thousand by me own frescos on hispurty face."
"Have you a man named Richard Peveril aboard your craft?" demandedCaptain Spillins.
"None of your d----d business."
"Run him down!" ordered Major Arkell, sternly, and the words hadhardly left his mouth before the two vessels came together with acrash.