CHAPTER XXVII.
“I AM ONE OF THEM.”
Early on the morning of the same day on which Ralph imparted his diabolical design to our heart-broken heroine, two men sat in the room back of the one which was occupied by Squire Moulton and his nephew, at the inn before spoken of.
We recognize them at once—one as its former occupant, Ronald Edgerton, who now sits without his previous disguise; and the other as Fredrich Weimher, Dora’s former friend and lover.
The latter had only a few days before returned from his foreign tour, and immediately on arriving, his first inquiry had been for his old friend, Robert Ellerton.
He had intended to arrive in season to be present at the commencement exercises, but was unavoidably detained. He was deeply disappointed, for he knew well enough that his friend would take the first honors, and he wished to be among the first to congratulate him upon his success.
Unlike his rival, Ralph Moulton, his noble nature repelled the idea of allowing a feeling of jealousy and ill-will to spring up in his heart because the object of his love refused to listen to his suit.
When Fredrich Weimher was informed of Robert’s sudden disappearance, and also its cause—for in some mysterious way it had leaked out, in defiance of Mr. Ellerton’s reticence upon the subject—he was astonished beyond expression.
But when he learned that his father also had vanished in the same unaccountable manner, together with the horse which he had hired for his ride—and, stranger than all else, leaving his luggage behind him—he looked grave and troubled.
He felt convinced that all was not right, that there was foul play somewhere, and resolved to set himself about unraveling the mystery.
Ronald Edgerton, on hearing of his interest in the matter, sought him out, and taking him to his room, related all he knew of the affair, together with what he had overheard in the closet which communicated with the plotter’s room.
“I know the young man you speak of,” replied Fredrich Weimher, in reply to the other’s story. “I met him several times in New York; he is very fine looking, though his principles are none of the best; still I always felt that there was some good about him. I knew of his admiration for Miss Dupont, and now you say he is going to force her into a marriage with him.”
“Yes, I heard him swear it!” returned the man, with a look of pain upon his rough but fine-looking face.
“But they have left the place, I hear,” said Fredrich.
“They started to leave the place last night,” replied Edgerton, in a whisper, “but were intercepted about five miles from here, their driver knocked senseless from his seat, which was immediately occupied by another man, and the unfortunate ladies driven off to a place of security.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Partly from the coachman himself, whom I discovered lying half dead upon the ground, where he had fallen, and partly from my own knowledge of what is transpiring among these regions.”
“Where is the man now?” asked Fredrich.
“He is safe, and under good care; and no one knows anything about the affair except those who have the charge of him and myself. Of course,” he added, “I mean aside from those who instigated the deed.”
“Who do you think are the instigators? Do you think the Moultons would dare commit such an act, and if so, where have they carried their captives?”
“I know that, personally, Squire Moulton and his nephew had nothing to do with the abduction, but that it was some one or two of the smugglers who did it for them, and for their money. I also know where they are at the present moment.”
“The smugglers?” ejaculated Fredrich Weimher, springing eagerly to his feet. “Ah! I know where their den is, and we will organize a party at once, and go to the rescue of my friend and his bride.”
“But how will you enter their den, as you call it? That is a secret which but very few even of their own band is possessed of.”
“How do you know?” demanded Fredrich Weimher, regarding the man searchingly.
“Because I am one of them,” he replied, boldly meeting his glance.
“You!”
“Yes, I!”
“Then you are, after all, an enemy to those whom I would serve,” returned Fredrich, sternly.
The strange man smiled, and Fredrich Weimher, fearing that he had been willfully duped, said sharply:
“Do you mean me to understand that you are in league against these people?”
“To that question I can answer both yes and no,” he calmly returned. “I am a friend, and yet I am an enemy.”
“Explain yourself.”
“I will; listen. I have followed these Moultons everywhere for a long time, for I know what their aim has been. I have watched every footstep since they came here, but in a complete and safe disguise. Look!”
He opened the drawer in the table before which they sat, and, taking out a wig and heavy pair of whiskers, put them on.
“Ah! I should never know you for the same man,” exclaimed Fredrich, in surprise; then asked, “But why is this disguise necessary? Do they know you?”
“Because,” he answered, as he removed the wig and whiskers and replaced them in the drawer, “I have been a sort of ally of the squire’s in my present character, and am therefore in the secret of what he is up to.”
“My friend, if I indeed can call you so, you surprise me more and more; you are a mystery, and I scarcely know whether to call you friend or foe,” said Weimher, with a troubled look.
“I will soon convince you with regard to that,” returned Edgerton, with a peculiar smile. “I have told you that I am one of the smugglers’ band, and I will now explain how it happens. Some few years ago, while I was in the United States, I came across a couple of fellows—I call them fellows, because they appeared to be rough, rude men when I first saw them, though they had known better days. They were sons of an Italian nobleman, and were on the track of this very self-same squire. Ah! I tell you he has been a wicked one in his day,” said the man, with a gleam of hate in his eye.
“I believe you; but go on,” returned Fredrich, earnestly.
“It seems that he, Moulton, had married their only sister secretly, and then, on discovering that her father was insolvent, deserted her, proclaiming their marriage a farce, and leaving her to bear alone the cruel sufferings of poverty and childbirth. She died when the child was born—a beautiful girl, the image of her mother—and the brothers took their oath that they would hunt the villain to his death. They had a small fortune of their own, but spent it all before they had got any trace of him, and as a last resort joined this band of smugglers, which has branches all over the world; but this place seems to be the principal rendezvous, and I assure you it is no ‘den,’ but a veritable palace. People have an idea that it is somewhere in the region of that ledge of rocks yonder, and have sought it for years, but have been wholly unsuccessful as yet.
“As I was saying, these Italians were on some business for the band when I came across them, and, learning their story and object, I told them mine, at the same time expressing a wish to join them. They gladly took me as a companion, and since then I have worked in unison with them.”
“But I do not understand yet why you should be such an enemy to him. How has he injured you?”
“No, I suppose you don’t; but wait awhile and I shall come to that part of it.”
He arose as he spoke, and going to his toilet-stand, rubbed something over his face and then washed it thoroughly; he then brushed his rough locks in the style of the present day, then removed a heavy pair of eyebrows and his mustache, and, going to his wardrobe, exchanged his rough smuggler’s jacket for a finer and more stylish covering.
Not until he had made a complete transformation did he again turn to his visitor, who had been watching him curiously during these strange proceedings.
“Zounds!” exclaimed Fredrich Weimher, more than ever astonished, and gazing in perplexity at the wonderful change which he had effected. “Who are you, that you adopt so readily and so cleverly such different characters?”
It was no wonder that he exclaimed, for the transformation was more complete than the previous disguise had been.
Edgerton had washed off the swarthy hue that had hitherto been upon his face, revealing a clear though rather dark complexion. His eyes, which before with their heavy eyebrows had looked fierce and evil, now had a mild and genial expression, and his mouth was very handsome, the lips being thin and finely curved, which, with the change in his apparel, made him look like a highly educated, intelligent, and polished gentleman.
“Listen, my friend,” he said, seating himself again, still in his new character; “you shall know my whole story before we part, and then judge for yourself whether I am an interested party in the treacherous plot this gray-headed sinner is at work upon.”
He ground his white, even teeth as he uttered these last words.
“Do you know, sir, that there is a familiar look about you since this last change. I think I must have met you before somewhere,” said Fredrich Weimher, regarding his companion earnestly.
“No, I think not,” he returned, with a smile. “But you may be able to account for that familiarity when I tell you who I really am. Come nearer, for I would not have even a breath of what I am about to relate heard, before the time comes for me to reveal myself. My name is——”
He dropped his voice to the lowest whisper, and Fredrich Weimher sprang to his feet, startled and amazed.
“Hush!” said his companion; “you have not yet heard all.”
Then he continued to speak in low, rapid tones for nearly half an hour.
When he had finished, the young man sat looking at him in wondering silence for a moment, then grasping his hand, he shook it warmly, while a smile of sympathetic triumph suffused his face as he exclaimed:
“I see it all now! I understand! Oh, I almost envy you your triumph; and yet there must be something of bitterness in it. But I trust all is not as bad as you anticipate, and that it will all end well.”
“Heaven grant it!” returned the strange man, earnestly, while a tear for a moment dimmed his fine eye. “But we must to work at once,” he added, with energy, “for they will make quick business now they have the game in their hands, you may be sure, and the odds are against us.”
“How so? It seems to me that it will be a very easy matter to raise a company of daring men, enter their den, and release the captives,” said Fredrich.
“Yes, but there is the trouble. How are we going to enter it?”
“Do you not know the way?” asked the young man, in surprise.
“I know the entrance by the way of the water well enough, but not that by land. But it will be necessary for a party to enter both ways, for there are so many passages and secret doors that they will escape us unless they find themselves between two fires. My plan is for you to go one way and I the other, and if no alarm is given before we reach the principal room, to station a guard before each entrance to it; and then it will be impossible for them to resist us.”
“But why before this particular room?”
“Because I heard it hinted that the ceremony is to be performed at seven to-night, and in that case every one will be there to witness it.”
“Heavens! we have got to work with a will. I think your plan is excellent, though I know nothing of the interior of this wonderful place; but I can solve the difficulty about the land entrance easily enough.”
“You!” returned Ronald Edgerton, amazed.
We must continue to know this man of triple character by that name, at least for the present.
“Yes, I, for strange though it may seem, I know of one way to enter that place, and I believe it is the principal one too. I will tell you how it happened:
“Several years ago I was straying about that ledge of rocks, hunting up geological specimens, when I saw strange maneuvering among some men at the base of them. I resolved to know what was going on, and crept slyly toward the place, shielding myself as well as I could from observation by the rocks and bushes. Nearer and nearer I went, until I could hear their voices quite plainly, and at length I made a bold push, darted across an open space like the wind, and crouched panting and half frightened behind a rock so near them that I could see every face, and hear every word that was spoken. You can imagine that my alarm was somewhat increased when at something that was said I discovered them to be the smugglers that I had heard so much about. I was half tempted to retreat, but feared they would see me, and there was just danger enough in my situation to give spice to the adventure, so I resolved to remain in my hiding-place until they were gone, and learn all I could.
“Presently I saw a little fellow go three paces forward alone, then stamp three time upon the ground. Suddenly it seemed as if a portion of the solid rock was swung back upon a pivot; the men entered, and the rock closed again. I thought I would just creep forward and examine this strange entrance into the solid granite, and accordingly went cautiously toward the place. I stood, as nearly as I could judge, upon the spot where I saw the boy stand. I then walked three paces forward, and carefully examined the surface of the rock before me.
“It was some time before I could make out anything. Then I found a very fine crack, and tracing it, found it surrounded a nearly square block of stone, about five or six feet each way. I was very much delighted with my discovery, for I felt convinced that I had now found out the much talked of smugglers’ cave, that so many people had tried in vain to find.
“But my joy was suddenly turned into terror, as a heavy hand was laid upon my shoulder, and a gruff voice demanded:
“‘Well, youngster, what are you looking for here?’
“‘I—I—was hunting for specimens,’ I replied, in confusion, while my heart beat like a trip-hammer.
“‘No use trying to come that, you little Paul Pry. I’ve been watching you for some minutes, and I rather think you have got yourself into a scrape with your meddlesome disposition.’
“He shook me roughly, and I began to think my doom was surely sealed, for he made as though he was about to give the signal to enter the cave. But I begged so piteously to be let off, promising I would never tell what I had seen, that after a few moments spent in meditation he said:
“‘Well, then, down on your knees, and swear that you will never tell any one where the entrance you have discovered is.’
“I immediately obeyed, glad enough to get off on any terms, and then he let me go.
“I assure you I never ventured within a mile of that region alone again, and I have kept my promise not to tell any one what I saw. I shall still keep my oath, and not tell, but I shall now avail myself of the knowledge I possess, and go and force an entrance with a strong party at my heels.”
“My young friend, you are really very fortunate,” said Edgerton, who had been much interested in his account. “Your knowledge will be of great service, for we shall surely capture this notorious band, which for so many years has overrun the country, and done so much wickedness. It is settled, then. I will blockade the entrance from the water, while you force the one by land. In this way we shall take them by surprise, and everything will work to our advantage. I will go now and enlist my men, and if I have the opportunity give a hint of what we are up to, to the Italian brothers. They will greatly facilitate the work for us. In the meantime do you make your preparations, and remember one thing, to go well armed. We may not need to fight at all, for if things are as I think they are, the whole band (or what there is of them at home now) will be unarmed while they witness the ceremony. In that case they will all be at our mercy. Still, we must not neglect to take plenty of weapons.”
“Very well; where shall we meet?” asked Fredrich Weimher, his handsome face all aglow with excitement.
“I will have the men scattered near the place; it will not do to have them go in a body, lest some of the band should see them and give the alarm. I will notify them to secrete themselves near the spot, with the understanding that when they hear a short, sharp whistle, they collect directly behind the little cottage, where you say the entrance is. Of course you will have to be on the lookout and choose your time. At the same time, I, on hearing the signal, will enter the passage in boats from the sea with my own men.”
“That is well. And now at what hour shall I give the signal?”
“A little before seven will be a good hour; it is quite dark at that time. I will go at once and make arrangements, for we have no time to lose.”
With which words Ronald Edgerton arose, resumed his disguise, and both departed to prepare for the exciting and perilous adventure of the evening.