CHAPTER SIX.
THE FIERY CROSS.
For fully fifteen minutes, which seemed so many hours, did the littleparty wait, in order to allow the main body of the Mormon fraternity toget well on their way in the direction of the eastern bridge; and then,at a sign from Grenville, all cautiously worked their way forwards,crawling at full length upon the grass, and soon finding themselves,undiscovered, within fifty yards of the bridge which was now becomingvisible by the light of the moon. Another short wait rendered all asclear as day; yet the trio, hidden within pistol-shot of the sentinels,remained altogether unseen by them, the men being evidently thrown offtheir guard by the rockets fired from the eastern bridge.
And now Grenville and his friends coolly rose to their feet, and,covering the Mormons with their rifles, commanded them to lay down theirarms. The surprise was complete. The sentinels, however, instantlythrew forward their guns; but ere the pieces had reached their level,they both fell, Winfield and Leigh having each marked his man withdeadly accuracy.
Quickly taking possession of the guns and ammunition, which they hid inthe scrub some little way off, Grenville then placed the dead Mormons infairly upright postures, leaning over the outer edge of the bridge, asif the men were looking at the water below, and conversing together.This was simply an old Indian artifice, utilised in case any straywatcher, attracted by the firing, should take a fancy to see if therewere guards on the bridge. If a regular inspection were made, theimposture would of course become evident at once; but at a reasonabledistance, and under the moonlight, the corpses might well pass musterfor living men.
Our friends soon cleared the two miles lying between the bridge and theConvent in which Dora Winfield was imprisoned, and reached the spotwithout falling in with a living soul.
This Convent proved to be a fine stone building of considerable size andheight, and Grenville saw at a glance that only stratagem could obtainthem an entrance into such a formidable-looking edifice, for nothingshort of cannon would have any effect upon the massive walls.
There was, however, no difficulty for them to contend with in the way ofgaining admission, Winfield having merely to give in his name through agrating, in order to be permitted to visit his daughter.
The moment the door was opened, Grenville and Leigh, who had kept in thebackground, quietly followed him in, revolvers in hand.
There was, however, but a slight disturbance, as it proved that theConvent was tenanted solely by womankind. The Superior, amatronly-looking dame, was summoned, and remonstrated with Winfield,whom she, of course, knew, as he had been in the habit of paying regularvisits to his daughter.
"If you insist," she said, "I must perforce give up your daughter, butyou know well that neither you nor these misguided young men can everescape from our mysterious country. Remember, _the eyes of the HolyThree are unsleeping_."
"Excuse me, madam," said Grenville with a quiet laugh, "but we have notime for parley. Our minds are made up; and if you will kindly produceMiss Winfield, we will be gone. Your miserable Trinity may serve tofrighten women, but it has no terrors for honest men." Then turning toLeigh, "Alf, guard this door; and if anyone--man, woman, or child--attempts on any pretext to leave this building, see that that creaturedies, or remember that our own lives will pay the forfeit."
At this the Superior lost her temper, and commenced to harangueGrenville in no measured terms; but he put her on one side withoutfurther ado, and when the woman found that these men intended to searchevery cell till they found Miss Winfield, she soon led them to thatyoung lady's apartment, which proved to consist of a small prison-likechamber, furnished only with a shabby bed and one wooden chair. Thepoor girl, who sat reading by a rushlight, flew joyfully into herfather's arms and fairly wept with delight at the thought of being freeonce more. Winfield introduced her to Grenville, and after brieflythanking him with a kindly smile for his share in her release, sheexpressed herself equally eager with themselves to get away from theConvent and its environs.
After a hasty introduction to Leigh, all passed out into the moonlight,Grenville locking the door from the outside, and taking possession ofthe key, hoping thereby to prevent the inmates of the Convent fromprematurely giving the alarm.
As Miss Winfield followed the hasty strides of her father in thedirection of the bridge, Alf Leigh walked by her side, conversing withher in low tones, and secretly wondering how her father could have beenso careless as to risk such a treasure in the wilds of Africa.
He saw at a glance that Dora Winfield was a lady, and as thoroughlylovely a specimen, moreover, as one could find in a day's journeythrough England. Her hair was of a lustrous golden hue, she had fineblue eyes, and a face which was singularly winning and beautiful, butwhich yet possessed an expression of self-reliance that in no waydetracted from her charming countenance. Her voice was sweet and wellmodulated; and altogether she was a most lovable little person--atleast, so thought Alfred Leigh from the vantage ground of his six feettwo inches.
Dora Winfield was, however, no ordinary woman--she was quite five feeteight inches in height, and fortunately for herself and the all-nightjourney she had in prospect, possessed a well-knit figure and aconstitution hardened by years of travel with her father, in the pursuitof his somewhat hazardous occupations.
Leigh was delighted to find her a quiet, modest young girl, whose tonehad evidently been in no way lowered by her contact with the roughdiamonds of advanced civilisation in the South African bush.
The girl had, indeed, been well-trained by a good mother, and after thedeath of that beloved relative had been so wrapped up in her father, ofwhom she was passionately fond, that she had never experienced anydesire to mix with the outside world, of which Leigh soon discoveredthat she knew absolutely nothing.
As the party drew near the bridge, Leigh whispered a few words to hiscousin, who at once moved on ahead, and, finding the bridge just as theyhad left it, coolly tipped the two lifeless sentinels over the parapetinto the water, and a sullen plunge which reached Leigh's ears as heapproached with his fair companion told him that she would be spared theghastly sight of those two livid corpses acting such a hollow, hideousmockery.
As the party crossed the bridge, Leigh laughingly observed that it wasmore like going home from a nineteenth-century dinner than leading theforlorn hope they had looked for.
Hardly were the words out of his mouth than a rocket again shot up fromthe Mormon stronghold and described an arc over their heads, and,turning to look behind them, all saw a singular spectacle.
From the roof of the Novices' Convent shone a small _cross of fire_,and, even as they looked, this signal was answered by the startlinglysudden appearance of an enormous emblem of similar shape posted upon thevery top of a steep hill just behind the town.
By this time the sky had darkened considerably, the lustre of both moonand stars were dimmed by driving belts of angry-looking scud, which shutout both the town and the hill behind it, and gave this extraordinarysignal an altogether terrible effect. Soon the cross upon the Conventdied out, but the one upon the mountain-top continued to glow morefiercely than ever, hanging as it seemed between earth and heaven,instinct with a wondrous radiant brilliancy. All at once the light diedout, as suddenly as it had appeared; but rocket after rocket ascendedfrom East Utah, still following the direction of the bridge, conveyingto the whole Mormon community, with the help of the fiery cross, thefact of an escape from the Convent, and indicating that the fugitiveswere flying by the central bridge.
Grenville afterwards ascertained that these crosses were made of a purecrystal cut in slabs from the mountain-side, and were lighted by thesame natural gas which had startled him in the subterranean road.
After watching the Eastern heavens for some moments Grenville turned tohis cousin and said--
"I don't half like it, Alf; the main body is already on its returnjourney, or an answering rocket would have been fired from the easternbridge. You must push on with Miss Winfield and her father, and try tomake
the Table Rock. I think we are in for a storm, but never mind thatI will stay by the bridge and stop any stragglers from pursuing; if youcome across the Zulus, send one to me and take the other one on withyou. Now be off, there's a good fellow," as Leigh was about to arguethe point.
"God bless you, dear old man!" burst from the other, as he wrungGrenville's hand and turned away, for he knew that his cousin was facingalmost certain death to effectually cover their retreat; and but forDora Winfield's sake he would have insisted upon taking his own share ofthe danger, as usual.
Another moment and Grenville was alone upon the bridge, the gatheringgloom around him, and the weird whispering veldt stretching out behind,whilst beneath him the River of Death seemed to murmur hoarsely alongits eerie and unwilling course.
All at once he became aware of a figure, apparently on horseback,approaching at full speed, and, challenging loudly, commanded theadvancing equestrian to halt on pain of instant death.
The horse was reined up less than a score of yards from the bridge, andto Grenville's astonishment a sweet girlish voice cried out, "Oh! doplease let me pass, I want to go with Dora."
Just then the moon shone out again for a brief space, and Grenville sawa lovely young girl, her luxuriant dark hair blown about her like acurtain by the wind, sitting on the back of an animal which he at oncerecognised as a quagga, and looking at him imploringly.
"Who are you?" he at length found voice to ask.
"I?" said the little creature, drawing herself up proudly, "I am theRose of Sharon, queen of the Mormons by right of birth, but kept in theConvent prison by the wicked men who call themselves the Holy Three."Then, in pleading tones, "You have a kind face, do let me join dearDora; you would surely not separate the Rose of Sharon from the Lily ofthe Valley."
The girl was not more than eighteen years of age, and shut up fromalmost all human intercourse as she had been for many years, her mannerswere almost childlike, whilst her form was so _petite_ that Grenvillemight well be excused for taking her, as he had at first done, for achild of fourteen.
Catching the head of her strange mount, he quietly led her across thebridge, telling the young lady which direction to take in order to comeup with her friend, and being much relieved to learn from her that thisquagga was an altogether unique specimen in East Utah, as he had fearedthat the Mormons might have a cavalry troop so mounted, and this wouldcomplicate matters fearfully so far as his own party was concerned.
In a few seconds the hoof-strokes of her strange pony died out upon theveldt, and Grenville was once more alone with a mighty struggle beforehim, but with an additional reason to nerve his arm in the voluntarypresence of this fair creature pleading for protection from the commonfoe.
This, however, was no time for sentiment, and the moon again making herappearance, Grenville looked carefully to his weapons and prepared tomake the best defence in his power, determined that no Mormon shouldcross the bridge except over his dead body. The sky had partly clearedin front of him, and he was relieved to notice this, as his only chanceof a prolonged resistance was to put in accurate shooting at a rangequite beyond that of the Mormons' rifles; behind him over the veldt theclouds stretched away to the horizon black as ink and ominous in theirsudden death-like quietude.
In the distance he could see the outline of the Convent and the lightsactively twinkling in the Mormon town, then some three miles to theeastward the sky-line was broken by a stream of fire, as a rocket sailedup on its errand of inquiry, and was answered almost simultaneously by alike vivid messenger despatched from the Mormon stronghold in thedirection of the bridge.
Into the Unknown: A Romance of South Africa Page 6