CHAPTER XVIII.
THE UNHEEDED WARNING.
Toward evening of the following day Mr. Ellerton stood booted and spurred upon the steps of the Glenburn House, impatiently waiting for the groom to bring around a horse.
He was going for a gallop over the distant hills to get a breath of fresh air and a view of the surrounding country.
While standing thus he saw a dirty little urchin, barefooted and ragged, behind one of the large fluted pillars which supported the porch, and every little while he caught him peeping out upon him with curious eyes.
He bore this scrutiny as long as he cared to, and then walked up to him, saying, somewhat crossly:
“What are you prowling about here for, you youngster? Anything wanted?”
The little fellow tore off his tattered cap, and catching hold of the shock of yellow, tangled hair that hung down over his forehead, gave it a vigorous pull.
He then thrust his hand deep into his trousers pocket, pulled out a soiled and crumpled piece of paper, which he put hastily into Mr. Ellerton’s hand, and with a low “Mum’s the word, sir,” he darted like a flash from his sight.
Somewhat amused at this singular proceeding, while at the same time he was unconsciously impressed by the urchin’s mysterious manner, he glanced around to see if any one had observed the event before he opened the note.
There was no one about, and he unfolded it and read the contents.
It was written in a round, manly hand, which Mr. Ellerton thought had a familiar look; but where or when he had seen that same handwriting before, he could not remember.
It had been carefully and neatly folded, but the boy had probably soiled and rumpled it through carelessness.
It contained the following words:
“Be on your guard to-day. Do not go beyond the reach of help without the means of self-defense, for danger lurks in your path!
Mr. Ellerton curled his lips in a scornful smile, as if he did not fully credit the writer’s story. Nevertheless he turned and went within the hotel, back up into his room, and slipped a couple of loaded pistols into his breast-pocket.
When he appeared below again the groom stood waiting with his horse.
He mounted, and, putting his spurs to the animal, galloped swiftly away in the direction of the cliffs which we have before mentioned, and in the recesses of which our hapless hero was imprisoned.
Mr. Ellerton thought if he could gain the summit of these cliffs he should have a splendid view of the surrounding country.
As he slowly ascended the side of the rugged cliffs, he began to ponder upon the strange warning he had received. Who could have written it? Who was there in all the country who knew him familiarly enough to call him Robert Ellerton?
Where had he seen that handsome handwriting before? It was somewhere away back in the dim past; but when or where he could not recall, and the more he tried to remember the more puzzled he grew. Neither could he imagine what the danger was that lurked in his path.
Had he been in a country among barbarians, he might well give heed to such a warning; but here, in such a quiet town, where almost every one gave his attention to cultivation and learning, it could not be possible that any very great danger could threaten him.
Still, the more he meditated upon it, the more uneasy he grew.
By this time he had reached the summit of the cliff.
The prospect from this point was attractive. Far, far away as the eye could reach was the sea in all its grandeur, and reflecting from its silver bosom the many-tinted glories of yonder sky, while just at his feet its waves gently washed the huge crags with its foam and yellow sands; and involuntarily he murmured those beautiful lines from Tennyson’s pen:
With a feeling half of pleasure, half of melancholy at his heart, he turned to leave the enchanted spot, when a shrill cry, as of some one in pain, startled him.
Turning his eyes in the direction whence the sound proceeded, he saw just below him a noble horse, madly rearing and plunging among a cluster of bushes, while near by lay the prostrate form of a man apparently much injured, judging from his repeated cries and shrieks.
Without a moment’s thought, except that of helping a suffering fellow-being, Mr. Ellerton put spurs to his horse and clashed recklessly down the narrow path of the cliff—out of sight of the village, out of the reach of help—on, on into danger and treachery, and into the hands of a set of vile and heartless villains!
Oh, why did he not heed that timely warning?
He quickly gained the side of the prostrate man, and sprang to the ground to his assistance.
Scarcely had his foot touched the earth when the man sprang to his feet, and covering Mr. Ellerton’s heart with a heavy revolver, shouted:
“Stand, or your life is the forfeit!”
Like a flash of lightning his situation rushed upon him, and he realized all too late how necessary had been the warnings he had that morning received!
He knew he must have been followed and watched every step of the way from the hotel, and that the farce of the dismounted and injured rider had only been an ingenious trap, into which he had so readily fallen.
His own hand involuntarily sought for his weapons of defense, but at that moment a slight rustling caused him to glance up, and he saw three more ruffians surrounding him.
He realized at once how utterly vain and useless would be any attempt at resistance, and without a word he submitted to have his hands bound behind him.
One of the villains now approached him with a folded handkerchief, remarking jocosely, with a tantalizing grin:
“Neat little trap, wasn’t it? Now, if you please, we will cover up those peepers of yours, as you might be adding to your stock of information while we make our journey to the palace; and that would not suit the king you know.”
The villain laughed a coarse laugh, in which he was heartily joined by his companions.
“For what am I molested?” demanded Mr. Ellerton, with calm disdain, while he suffered himself to be blindfolded.
“The king wants you,” was the reply.
“What king?”
“Why, our king. He has got no particular province as I know of. I may as well call him the King of the Cannibal Islands as anything else,” replied the ruffian, winking at his comrades.
Again their rude laughter rang over the echoing hills.
“Where are you taking me?” asked Mr. Ellerton, not deigning to notice the wretched attempt at witticism.
“To the palace, as I informed you before; and to safe quarters I’ll warrant you. Come, tramp, for we are in a hurry,” and the poor man was seized by both arms and hurried roughly over the uneven path.
He asked no more questions. His pride kept him silent, and he would not have calmly borne their coarse insolence had it been in his power to resent it.
They traveled more than a mile in this manner, then after the same ceremonies of stamping, passing through secret passages and doors that his son had noticed, he was finally unbound, and found himself in a large stone cell comfortably furnished. The ruffians left him to himself after bolting and barring the door.
The cell was lighted by a large hanging lamp, while the air which ventilated the apartment came through the upper part of the door which was formed of an iron grating.
With a heavy heart he sat down to consider his uncomfortable position, and to wonder why he was thus a prisoner.