"Oh, I am so thirsty!" said Cynthia again. She stood leaning against the wall of the cavern close to the opening, peering down, more, I thought, upon the water glancing below than at the strangers. I have been reading of late a very pretty tale written by a gentleman of the name of Irving, and as I read of that wonderful palace of the Moors called the Alhambra, and of the lattice work across the windows from which the court beauties gazed forth, themselves unseen, my mind ran back over fifty years, and I saw Cynthia again, as I saw her that morning, a fairer, sweeter beauty, looking down from her latticed window, than any houri who ever graced the court of Boabdil of Grenada.

"Don't worry about water, Cynthy, child," said the Skipper. "Sorry you're thirsty, but they'll go away presently, and then you can have all you want. If they would only go off a little way, we could make a dash for the boats and row to Floridy."

"Begging your pardon, sir, you forget the schooner, sir," said the Bo's'n.

"Seem to have a good many men for the size of the schooner." The Skipper remarked this as the boats were pushing into the stream. "I don't believe they are all crew." And one could see that they were not. The crew were well-fed-looking ruffians, dressed in picturesque fashion after the manner somewhat of their masters, but there were six or eight of the men in the boats who had little clothing, and that of the simplest sort. They looked sad and downcast, and one could see that they must be prisoners, even without discovering the ropes or heavy cords which tied their wrists to the rowlocks where they were seated. They gazed anxiously at the shore, as if they would be glad to rest for a while upon the sweet green grass.

"How can they live so far off!" said Cynthia, gazing down at the piratical crew in wonder.

"Far off from where?" I asked.

"Why, from Belleville, of course."

For the moment I had forgotten that Belleville was the axis of the earth.

"I wish to God they were nearer Belleville and farther from us at this moment!" said I fiercely.

"I wish that fool girl had never come away from Belleville at all," whispered the Skipper to me. He shook his head anxiously as he stood gazing at Cynthia with a puzzled expression, as if to say, "What will become of her?"

I could not withdraw my eyes from those strange men. From the moment my eye fell upon the one they called Mauresco I hated him with a deadly hatred, and yet I think I never looked upon so comely a man. Tall, well formed, with shoulders like an athlete, you did not take him for a large man, and yet after looking at others and turning again to him he seemed like a giant. After letting your gaze rest on him for a time, and then turning to the others again, they looked like pigmies, their heads contracted, their colour faded, their eyes small and dull. What there was in this man to so fascinate every one with whom he came in contact I do not know. I never got very near to him but on one occasion, and then but for the space of a few tragic moments, but I found that he left behind him wherever he passed a memory that would not die. Mauresco was the finest of his boat's crew, as far as we could see. His coat, of some greenish colour, was thrown aside, and his fine white shirt was apparently his only covering above the waist. He wore trunk hose and half boots. Upon his head was the broad straw hat of the tropics, and around his waist was a wide green sash, in which were stuck two or three knives. Some pistols lay on the seats in the bows. I suppose that the men had disburdened themselves of these because of the heat of the day. In each boat there seemed to be a leader, or captain, who was dressed much as was Mauresco. The costumes of the sailor men were a modification of his.

"He's very handsome," said Cynthia, her eyes glued to the glass.

"For God's sake, don't speak so loud!" said I.

"He looks like that picture of the Moor we have at home, Uncle. His voice is very sweet. I don't believe he would do us any harm. Now suppose we throw ourselves upon his mercy, and——"

"Fool!" ejaculated the Skipper, and, snatching the glass, he turned his back upon her. "If you speak a loud word," he whispered fiercely, "I'll throw you off the cliff."

"I don't see how that would save my life," whispered Cynthia to me; but her Uncle's rough words and tones had the desired effect, and we spoke no more aloud.

From the second boat there stepped a young boy of perhaps fourteen years. He had, I thought, a dazed, cowed look. The leader in the second boat was a bluff, red-faced Englishman. He limped and was awkward in his movements, and I saw that he had a wooden leg. He got over the ground, however, as fast as most of the men, and his strength and power even with this drawback made him seem uncanny. He whistled and sang by snatches in a fine barytone voice, which would not have disgraced a concert stage. When this man was not whistling and singing, he was laughing and swearing, which proved a diversion, if not an agreeable one.

As soon as the young man stood up in the boat, he looked anxiously at the burly man.

"After you, my lord," said the burly man, bowing low. "I am nothing but plain Jonas—Captain Jonas, at your service. It's so long since we had a real lord among us that we don't quite know how to treat him.—Mauresco, rise up and greet my lord."

The man we now knew as Mauresco half arose and said in his musical voice, as he smiled and showed his handsome teeth:

"I salute you, Lord George."

The boy had a rope round his wrist, which trailed after him as he walked.

"Let me remove that darby, my lord," said Mauresco.

He drew a crooked cimetar from his belt and rose into a sitting posture. The boy looked shrinkingly at the knife and advanced, trembling and pale.

"Oh, come, come! Have courage, my lad!" said Mauresco. He cut the rope and the boy was free.

"Am I to be left upon this island?" asked the boy, looking at Mauresco anxiously.

"And why should we leave Lord George Trevelyan upon this island? To wander to the interior, and tell King Christophe that this is one of our stopping places?"

"How am I to be killed, then? Am I to be made to walk out upon that dreadful plank?" The boy shuddered, as if he had lately witnessed that dread execution. "Tell me my fate, Captain. I can bear it, only tell me."

"No, no! We have another plan for you, Lord George. We will take you back to the coast of England. We will stand in near the estate of your mother, the countess, some late evening. Then you shall write her a letter asking the ransom that I shall dictate, unless, indeed, the Admiral of the Red demands more."

"You mistake my position," said the boy. "My mother is not a rich woman, even though she has a title. She is not a countess, she——"

"But your brother is a lord."

"Yes, but I am not. I have no money in my own right, and never shall have. If I had, I would promise it all to you if you would take me home or to any civilized land."

"Lady Trevelyan could raise the money, and then——"

"She could raise next to nothing, Captain. The estates have been encumbered for years. She is trying to pay off the indebtedness before my brother comes of age; she——"

"What would she say to sixty thousand pounds?"

The boy's face blanched.

"I may as well be frank with you, Captain; she could not procure anything like that sum."

"Well, well, say forty thousand; we won't be particular about a little less. Suppose, now, I should leave you here, Lord George, with provisions for a certain length of time, in a safe place which I know of in this neighbourhood, and you give me a letter to your mother the countess, saying——"

"It is useless," said the boy, hanging his head. "She could not give it to you."

"I'm afraid, then, we'll have to do with you as we have with many a fellow twice your size. It would never do to let you go home and set the English law working against Captain Jonas, plain Captain Jonas."

Jonas laughed his burly, fat laugh.

"Not to speak of Mauresco," he said, "handsome Mauresco!"

"But if I promise never to say a word to a soul of where I have been, whom I saw, what was said, when we——"

"We've heard those promises afore," said Captain Jonas. "Remember, Mauresco? When we caught that damned Spanish don, and all the promises he made, and then that infernal chase! No, no, boy—Lord George, I should have said. We know too much about the faith of a prisoner of war."

"My family have always been noted for their honour and faith!" The boy drew himself up with pride as he said these words. "I would die before I would tell if I promised not——"

"That will be the case anyway," said Mauresco with a careless laugh.

"Will you shoot me? Will you make me walk that horr——"

The boy shuddered and turned paler than he had been.

"No, no, boy, on the word of the buccaneer, we have no such intention. We shall neither shoot you, hang you, nor make you walk the plank. Don't be so anxious. You have got some fine stories into your head about us, but really at bottom we are the most humane of men.—Aren't we, Jonas? I beg pardon, Captain Jonas."

"So they tell me," said Jonas pleasantly.

The third boat had now come into the cove, and had landed near the first two. The Captain of the third boat was a squat, little red-faced man, with a hump on his back to make him seem smaller—in fact, he was a dwarf. His legs were bowed, his arms long. He had small ferret eyes and an ugly grin.

"Your fate will be decided by the Admiral of the Red," said Mauresco, with a wave of the hand toward the newcomer.

As the third boat grounded, in answer to the punting oars, the men on the bank, Mauresco and Captain Jonas among them, arose from, their sitting postures and stood with an air almost of respect. The little man scrambled over the seats and tumbled himself down on the beach.

"Some of you fellows come and carry me," he said. "It's too damnably hot to walk."

At a glance from Mauresco three or four of the strongest of the men ran to the help of the Admiral of the Red and lifted him upon their shoulders. Some one else ran to the boat and seized a boat cloak which lay in the stern sheets and placed it in the shade under a mahogany tree. The Admiral of the Red, or the Red Admiral, as he might better be called, gave each of the bearers a vicious kick as they deposited their share of him upon the ground; at which they laughed as if it were a delightful joke, and ran down to the boat to help land the Admiral's belongings.

"Broach a keg!" squeaked the Admiral.

"We have just broached one," answered Captain Jonas.

"It was rum," whispered the Skipper to me. "I told you so. I'll take that sperm whale, if you please."

I was glad that the Skipper could joke under such horrible circumstances; it seemed to make our situation less hopeless.

The Admiral now squeaked for his horse pistol, and, while some one was concocting a drink for him out of various fiery compounds, he laid under the tree and amused himself in taking aim at the prisoners in the different boats. The men turned pale and shook as each shot flew over their heads or about their ears, and watched the Admiral with apprehensive eye, and dodged as they saw him pull the trigger. They kept their hopeless gaze fixed upon him, not knowing at which boat or which man he intended to aim.

"Why don't they push the boats off and row for it?" whispered I indignantly.

"Can't, sir," answered the Bo's'n. "Even if they could jump out of the boats and push them off they must punt to the mouth of the stream, and they would be riddled with bullets before they got that far, sir. Besides, you don't suppose, sir, those hellions would leave an oar where they could get it?"

I looked where he pointed, and saw that the oars had all been taken from the boats and were piled together some distance from the little beach.

We stood and watched those dreadful men for an hour or more. They were repulsive, but they fascinated those who had never been near persons of such notorious fame. I left Cynthia to watch the pirates and joined the Skipper.

"Captain," said I, when I could speak to him alone, "who brought you into this cavern?"

"Didn't notice exactly; that girl, I suppose. Lacelle, they call her."

"Well, she didn't bring me in. She was here when I came. She was the first person I saw. They were all here. She and the Bo's'n, Cynthia, your niece, and the Minion."

"You've got fanciful, Jones; who else could it be? Answer me that."

I did not answer him, but asked him another question.

"Did you notice, Captain, when we went along the beach this morning, when we went to bury those men, I mean——" I stopped suddenly. "It doesn't seem only a day, does it—in fact, only a few hours—since that happened?"

"Hardly twenty-four hours since we came ashore," added the Skipper.

"Well, you remember when we went along the shore, don't you?" The Skipper nodded. "When we got to the place where the sailors were lying, there were three graves on the beach."

"Yes, what of that?"

"I want you to corroborate my statement, that is all. When I left the spot with the Bo's'n, you remember, when he was so afraid of the ring that your niece found——" The Skipper nodded again.

"Well, when I left that place with the Bo's'n there were two graves, another partly dug, and a dead Haïtien lying on the edge of it. When I went back there with you there were three graves, as I have said, and no Haïtien. How do you account for that?"

"Don't account for it at all," said the Captain.

"That's the way I account for it. The idee of your askin' me to account for anything in this devil's hole. If it was a little later in the day, and we were on board the old Yankee, I should say you had been looking at the sun through the bottom of a glass. About those graves now," continued the Skipper ruminatingly, "you remember what I said about a man in love, don't you?"

The old man looked at me with his eyes half closed and a peculiar expression of countenance.

"Leaving the strangeness of the completed burial aside," said I, "can you explain why there were only three graves when there were four men concerned in carrying off Lacelle?"

"I'm not good at guessing riddles," answered the old man. "Why should you care, anyway?"

"Well, Captain," said I, "there's an air of mystery about things down here that I don't like. Some strange compelling power seems to have taken forcible possession of all of us. Whose hand was it that pushed out from between the leaves and beckoned to you? And when you had entered the darkness of the archway, so that you could not recognise its owner, who took your hand and led you into the cave?"

"That girl, I told you," said the Skipper. "That girl Lacelle."

"It wasn't the girl who guided me," said I. "Her hand is small and plump, probably warm to the touch. The hand that held mine was long and thin, and very clammy and cold."

"The devil!" ejaculated the old man.

"No, I don't think it was the devil himself," said I. "It may have been one of his chief mates."

I looked at the Skipper, and saw that the beads of perspiration were standing on his forehead and running down the crack alongside his nose.

"Don't, man! You make the creeps go all over me. What's the use of being so damned unpleasant? Ain't we uncomfortable enough without your ringin' the changes on ghosts and spooks and spectres?"

"You may as well look the thing in the face," said I. "There's something uncanny about the place, and, though it has worked in our favour thus far, who knows what may be in store."

"For God's sake, Jones, let's get away, then! Call Cynthy and the others to come, and let's run for it."

"Where to?" inquired I. "We might run right into the arms of those villains. If even one of them were to see us, our secret would be theirs, and then farewell to hope."

"No, that wouldn't do. I wouldn't have those wretches see Cynthy for the world," said the Skipper.

"God forbid!" said I. My heart almost burst its bounds at the thought. "O Captain Schuyler!" I pleaded, "if you have a particle of power over that niece of yours, make her lie quiet until they are gone."

"Make!" said the Skipper, with much the same emphasis that he had used a little while before.

"There's something to be said for 'em after all," said the Skipper in a low tone, gazing down contemplatively on the strangers. "They're probably married men. Had to get away from home. Don't suppose they can stand it."

At this the Bo's'n turned on the Skipper with a determined air. His words let me into the secret of his life.

"Begging your pardon, Cap'n Schuyler, sir," he said, "but darned if you know everything, Cap'n Schuyler, sir! I've got a wife, and if she ain't a angel——"

"Darned if you know anything at all, sir," replied the Skipper in a thunderous whisper, "except how to be insubordinate!"

Cynthia had withdrawn to one of the stone projections and was sitting there, her head leaning back against the wall.

She looked pale and seemed faint. I went near her to see what I could do. She opened her eyes when she heard my footsteps on the rocky floor.

"They mean to stay," she whispered. "How shall we ever get any water?"

"I will get you some water," said I.

This statement sounded extremely brave, but how was I to get it? Cynthia's look of appeal and suffering pierced me to the heart. That she should really suffer for a sip of that water which we saw so plainly bubbling out of the cavern below our hiding place made me wretched.

"If I had a cup," said I.

I walked to the latticed window, where the Skipper was again gazing down upon the pirates below.

"What do you say," said I, "to our beginning a fusillade on those fellows and picking off all we can, and then rushing out and fighting the rest?"

The Skipper shook his head. "It won't do. We are only three—the boy don't count; he has no pistol, and we have little ammunition. They would discover and overpower us. And then my little Cynthy——" The Skipper sniffed and shook his head. "No, no, Mr. Jones, we had best lay by until they go. They must go soon. The sun is setting, and I'm sure they won't stay after dark. Darned if I don't wish I had our six-pounder up here! I'd clear 'em out of there mighty quick."

"Have you a cup, Captain?" said I.

"Only that flat bottle, and that's filled with rum," answered the Skipper; "but when the sun's over the foreyard I intend to wet my whistle, and I'll ask you to join me, pirates or no pirates."

"The sun's been over the foreyard this long time," said I, "but you can't drink clear liquor."

At this moment Lacelle issued from the archway at the back of the room. She held in her hand Cynthia's funereal bag. She looked questioningly at Cynthia, and laid her finger on the catch. Cynthia nodded, Lacelle pressed the spring, and handed the open bag to Cynthia, who took from that wonderful receptacle a little silver cup.

"My baby cup," she said, as she held it out to me. I looked at the engraved letters, and read:

"Cynthia Schuyler Archer, June 15, 1803."

I laughed as I read the date aloud.

"As bad as the family Bible," said I.

"For Heaven's sake," urged the Skipper, "go to the back of the cave if you mean to make so much noise. One of those wretches looked up here just now when you laughed."

Familiarity with danger always makes it appear less.

I took the cup from Cynthia's hand and started for the passage through which we had entered the cave.

"Oh, don't go!" said Cynthia, but very faintly, I thought.

"Whatever you do, don't let 'em see you," said the Skipper. "They must imagine themselves quite alone on the shore."

"I think I can steal down this side of the cliff," said I, "and get through the underbrush to the shore of the stream. Remember they are across on the other side, and they are sleepy after their liquor. The only persons who could see me would be the prisoners, and I don't believe they would give the alarm."

"No, the last ones to," said the Bo's'n. "If they could only get free, sir, we could, I believe, combine, sir, and kill those wretches and take the schooner, Mr. Jones, sir."

"Turn pirate yourself!" said Cynthia with a look of horror at the poor Bo's'n. "How can you suggest anything so wicked! I thought you were——"

"Don't be such a fool, Cynthy! It would be a good job to rid the earth of those brutes."

"O Uncle! if you kill them, promise me that I shall not see it, especially that handsome one they call Mauresco. I don't know but I could bear to see the Admiral——"

"Her mother was a real bright woman, too," said the Skipper, turning to me with an expression of scorn. "You wouldn't believe it, now would you?"

Cynthia now arose from her rock.

"Uncle," she said, "you have called me a fool several times to-day, and before these gentlemen. I don't mind it if it amuses you, but I do have clever inspirations at times. I have one now; a very bright idea has come to me. How would it do if I should go and get the water myself? If that handsome pirate should see me, he might release the young lord, and he would give us, I am sure, anything we asked. I think they usually respect a lady's wishes, don't you?"

"No," said I, "not that I ever heard of."

"Girl, you will certainly drive me off my head," said the Skipper. "Talk about swearing! I'll—I'll—I'll—Lazy, take that girl away!" The Skipper's lips moved rapidly, and I saw that he was whispering a few oaths to point his remark. I turned and faced the blackness of the passage. I groped my way along, feeling certain that I could slip quietly down the slope, dip up a cupful of water, and return without being seen. There was a spice of adventure in all this, and I was not averse to showing Cynthia that I was not quite so cowardly as I had been forced to appear. Had I reflected a little, I might have wondered what use it would be to try to appear brave in the estimation of a girl who herself was not afraid to meet the pirates—in fact, rather courted such an encounter.

My soul filled with inspiring thoughts, I started boldly into the passage. I had come safely to the chamber; naturally I could find my way to the outside by simply walking forward. I had reached the point where the passage descends sharply to the level when my hand was taken in another. This gave me a shock for a moment, and I uttered an involuntary exclamation. "A pa' peu," whispered a soft voice in my ear. The tone was reassuring, and I knew the tones were intended to convey the idea that I was to feel no fear. As I remember now, it seemed as if I were suddenly turned about at right angles with the way that I had been travelling, and then gently impelled from behind. After a little I saw a gleam of light at a distance. All at once curiosity impelled me, and I walked eagerly ahead, fear and distrust vanishing like the mist of the morning.

I followed this new passageway, striking my flint as I went, lighting up the dismal place for a moment, and finding myself in blacker darkness when my light was gone. The spirit of discovery was now rampant within me, and I could not hold my feet, they ran unchecked. The light increased, the darkness became a little less overpowering as I proceeded, and finally I found myself walking in a sort of semi-daylight, which prefaced my coming to what seemed real light after the utter darkness which had enveloped me. The passage grew wider, there was better air, and all at once I came out upon a narrow gallery, with a wall of stone in front of me. A screen of vines like those before our cave hung from the noble arch overhead. They grew down from a nearly circular opening, and, trailing past the gallery, reached, some of them to the floor of the apartment on which the gallery looked. Thus they concealed the narrow shelf and its occupant. I did not discover this at first, but the knowledge of it came to me gradually as I pursued my investigations. The gallery reminded me of a box at a theatre in Barcelona, and I could not fail of being struck with the similarity. I pushed the vines aside and looked over the wall, which would have corresponded with the gallery rail nowadays. Below me was a grand interior, much larger than the room in which our little party were secluded. The first thing that I noticed was a raised stone receptacle of some kind which was planted squarely in the centre of the great hall.

"Those pirates are a cleanly set," I said almost aloud. "That must be their bath tub. Where, I wonder, do they get their water?"

The receptacle rested upon several large stones, and thus was raised from the floor of the cavern. About the tub, as I named it in my mind, were some larger rocks, which I thought must be seats. There were great blocks of stone about the walls, which I thought might be used as tables, and around the base of the wall were stone seats, shaped like divans, such as I had noticed in the room where I had left Cynthia. There were some slight signs of previous occupation, such as, what at that distance seemed, candle ends, and upon what I took to be a table was a cimetar, such as I had seen in the belt of Mauresco. Directly opposite me, but on a level with the floor, was an opening like a doorway, through which a pale light shone, and I noticed now that a little of God's sunlight pierced its way in from overhead. It was now that I raised my eyes to the roof and found that there was a second opening, through which the vines hung in masses, one or two long vines of ropelike appearance trailing upon the floor. Lying upon the stone floor was a large lamp of antique construction. In the ring at its top was wound the end of the hanging vine. This I understood later.

I now leaned over the gallery as far as I dared to see how high it was above the level of the floor. It seemed to me to be situated about thirty feet above the base of the wall, and I could discover no possible way by which it could be reached from below. I could almost touch the roof from where I stood as it curved over my head. As I raised myself up from this inspection I turned my head sidewise, when some strange objects met my view. At first I could not make out what manner of things these were. At the end of this great apartment there seemed to be several niches in the wall. They were upon my right, and I could not distinguish them distinctly from where I stood. So I moved to the left, my gallery curving slightly there, and, looking fixedly at them in the failing light, I comprehended what this grewsome sight meant.

There were six niches. Each niche, with the exception of one, had its occupant, and as I looked I perceived that they bore a resemblance to the human figure, some of them more strictly than others, but I knew now that these were some of the victims of those "handsome men" upon whose "mercy" Cynthia wished us to throw ourselves. They were, in fact, the remains of human beings, whose last living hours had been spent within those dreadful walls. There were five, I think, as nearly as I can remember. One appeared almost as if he were still in life and able to speak and ask for help. His clothes were well preserved, and his figure and head were almost erect, his bearing almost proud. But the others were in most instances fleshless skeletons. The skin had dropped from their bones, the clothes hung in tatters about their shrunken forms, their teeth glistened in the last light of day. There must have been a strong wind without, and upon the eastern side of the cave where this great hall was situated, for it would force itself into the passages and through the crannies. The desolate figures were affected by its insistance. A head wobbled languidly here, a rag of cloth fluttered faintly there, then an entire body swayed as if weary only with its tiresome position for so long a time, and as if it would fain seat itself or lie down to rest.

I gazed awestruck. I put my hands over my eyes, and, removing them, I looked again. There was a fiercer gust of wind, which rattled the jaws of some of the skeletons, and their teeth seemed to be almost hissing out words of appeal or of warning to me. I turned and fled back through the passageway, running as if for life, as if I, too, might be caught and left to die slowly in one of those empty niches. As I flew along I struck my light, but the flint fell from my fingers. I stooped and groped for it. I got myself confused and turned around, and in a second flight I found myself again in the hated gallery. Here I pulled myself together and started afresh. As luck would have it, in my second flight through the tunnel my foot struck against my flint and steel. I groped and picked up the little chain that held them together, and this time I got out of the tunnel, for I stumbled up against a blank wall and knew that it must lead to our refuge.

I struck a light, and found that my surmise was correct. The light also enabled me to see a bucket of water standing upon the floor of the passageway, and in it floated Cynthia's silver cup. I must have dropped it in my haste to see where that passage would lead. I felt ashamed, but I remember that I was hardly curious as to how the water got there. I had so much more serious and terrible things to occupy my mind.

When I reached the room with the lattice, as I shall call it now, to distinguish it from the others, I found that the Skipper, the Bo's'n, and the Minion were alone. The two men were lying down to get a little sleep. The Minion was hanging against the vines, still looking down at the men who had come ashore from the schooner. I set down my bucket, which was almost at once surrounded by the three, and they were minded to drink from the very pail itself, as there was but one cup.

"We thought you would never come back. Gad! what a time you have been! The Minion thought the pirates had gobbled you sure," said the Skipper.

"Where is Miss Archer?" said I.

At that moment Cynthia advanced with Lacelle from between the pillars at the back. She gave me a welcoming smile, with which some reproach was mingled, and then bent over the pail and dipped the cold water from it with her cup. She handed it to Lacelle. The girl pushed the cup away and made Cynthia drink first.

When all had finished, I took my share.

"You haven't had any?" exclaimed Cynthia. "How selfish we have all been! I thought you would get some at the stream."

"How did you get our pail, Mr. Jones, sir?" asked the Bo's'n.

I did not wish to alarm Cynthia.

"Oh, that's my secret!" said I.

Cynthia looked kindly at me now.

"Come with me, Mr. Jones," she said, "and see the charming room that Lacelle has found for me."

I followed the two back between the pillars, and after one or two turnings we came to a small room where Cynthia was entirely secluded and quiet. Here a faint light trembled down from overhead. I looked up and could see the branches of trees moving in the high wind, and behind them the red sky of sunset. Along the wall ran one of those surprising benches of stone, and on this Cynthia, or Lacelle for her, had laid the blanket and placed the pillow.

"Who brought these up here?" I asked.

"I can not say," said Cynthia. "I found them here."

There was not a sound in this remote spot. I judged that it was bounded at the back or west by the new passage through which I had gone on my voyage of discovery, by the entrance passage on the north, and by part of the great hall upon which I had looked down on the south. I had no way of proving this, but my bump of locality has always been good, and I thought that I understood the situation. I saw that there was but one way of entering this room, and made up my mind that so long as I had life and strength no living creature should pass beyond those stone pillars.

"Are you not hungry?" asked I.

"Not very," said Cynthia. "We each took some hard bread when we left the camp. The Bo's'n told us to. I have been nibbling on mine. I am very tired. Perhaps we can all sleep for a while. I suppose when it is really sunset those men will go away, don't you? Then we can go down to the shore again."

I had my forebodings, but I answered nothing. When I returned to the outer room, the three whom I had left were standing close to the lattice and peering downward.

"Where can they be?" I heard the Skipper say as I entered.

"Round there," said the Minion, whose words were as rare if not as priceless as the pearls and rubies of speech in the fable.

He motioned with his hand to the side of the hill on the east, opposite where we had climbed the slope. I stood as near the lattice work as I dared and scanned the grassy plain below. The boats with their prisoners were still beached on the shore of the stream. The guards sat under the trees ashore, keeping watch with pistols cocked. But the rest of the sailors, the two Captains, the Admiral, and the young Englishman had disappeared as completely as if they had dropped into a bottomless pit. I wondered if they had gone to some secluded place known only to themselves, where they could make way with the lad unknown to their companions, the guard, and the prisoners. As we stood and surmised over the fact of their disappearance, we heard the sound of many footsteps and the sudden loud ring of heels upon the stone floor in the chamber next our own. I had just time to motion to the others to hug the party wall, and to lie down myself with my length stretched along the base of the partition, when the voice of Captain Jonas rang out with baffled tone:

"Where are they?" he shouted. "Where are they? I thought they were here!"

"Lift me up! Lift me up, so that I may see!" squeaked the Admiral of the Red.

We lay as if we had been carved out of the very rock itself.

There were shouts and oaths and runnings here and there, and scuffling of feet upon the dusty footway. There was a flicker of light through the embrasures against our farther wall, and thence came an order—a roar, rather—from Captain Jonas:

"Search the whole place! Search every nook and corner! If it takes till midnight, the search must go on! They must be found!"

CHAPTER VII.
A VILLAIN MEETS HIS END AND A PRISONER ESCAPES.

We heard them beating the bush, as it were, searching for us, we felt sure. I expected every moment that they would rush away into the darkness, make a long détour up over the crest of the hill, and descend to our entrance upon the other or western side. I rolled over and drew my knife from its ragged sheath, ready to sell my life dearly. I thought of Cynthia as I lay there, and I wondered if we had better warn her. I hesitated to frighten her, and yet I felt that the time had come to put a knife into her hand and tell her to take her life with determination if need be. Our case seemed hopeless. We three looked at each other. No one spoke. The din in the next chamber was so overpowering that we might have shouted, but the rest felt as I did—there was nothing to say. I saw them each examine their pistols as I had mine, and the Bo's'n gave the Minion one of his, at which the boy grinned with delight and nodded his head violently, but remained, as usual, silent. We heard the buccaneers still racing about. It seemed to me that they searched in small excavations in the walls. Some seemed to run a little way inside a passage and then return, for we constantly heard the inquiry "Found?" and the answer, "No, not yet." Then suddenly they all trooped out, and we were left in quiet. We arose and walked to the entrance to our cavern.

"They are coming over the hill," said the Captain. I nodded, and there we stood and waited.

I thought that I had discovered the secret of the great natural cave. It was evidently divided in an irregular fashion along its length, beginning at the water and running backward. There was an entrance upon the western side, which we had used, and one upon the eastern side, which the pirates had used. There was no connection between the two except from the gallery, where I had gone alone and had made the discovery of that dreadful hall of death. I hoped that as the pirates had not come up the western bank to our entrance, that they knew nothing of it. And I think now that the two or three who discovered it later did so by accident only, and for the first time.

"Why not meet them at the archway?" suggested I in a low tone. "It is narrow there. Only one can enter at a time. We could kill each one as he came."

"That's a good plan, Mr. Jones," whispered the Bo's'n; "I'll lead, sir."

"No," said the Skipper, "I claim the right. Thank God, I can fight, now that I am out of Cynthy's sight!"

It had grown dark in the cave, for we were on the northern side and night was coming on. Somehow I got ahead as we stole into the passage, and groped our way along its black length. I felt carefully with my foot, dreading the sudden descent to the level. It came not so soon as I had thought, and I turned to warn the others. I did not now dare strike a light, for I feared that with each moment that passed we should hear those dreadful voices at the entrance to the passageway. We walked along the level, and mounted the incline which led to the archway. And now we did indeed hear voices. Yes, our surmise had been correct. They had climbed up the hill, had rounded the back of the cave, and were coming to seek us. There were not many voices.

"They have divided," whispered the Bo's'n. "Some are searching here, some in other places." We heard their footsteps coming down the hill. The rocks and shale made a great noise. There was but a faint light at the entrance, and I watched to see when one of our pursuers should force his entrance to our retreat. There was a scuffling outside upon the rough stones, and a figure stood in the doorway. I waited for him to advance, hoping to cut him down without a great noise. He came on for a few uncertain steps, when, quick as thought, there was a flash from over his head, a sickening cut, and the intruder rolled upon the ground without a groan. Then I saw a figure busy over the fallen man. The body was pushed and pried against the wall, there was a final shove, and the dead man disappeared. All was still for a moment, then I heard a faint splash of water far underground. The strange figure had but just completed this ghastly work and had arisen when the darkening gleam at the entrance was shut out by a second stranger. He came groping his way into the passage. I heard him strike his flint. It was but a spark, and he tried to strike another; but that avenging hand was upon him, and he, too, was laid low. Not without a struggle, however, but I did not dare to approach within range of that busy weapon which was doing its work unaided. Again those unseen hands pushed and pried the slain man to the edge of the wall. It seemed to me that the hole was small and not high, for it was with difficulty that this second victim of our Nemesis was crowded through. I learned this more by sound than by feeling, for the very slight, small thread of light which filtered down the passage showed me most dimly two blurred figures moving in combat and nothing more.

"One of those prisoners got loose, I guess," whispered the Captain. "He's killed two, anyway."

And now the third intruder entered the passageway. In the tall, lithe figure I at once recognised Mauresco. It was now so dark that I saw but a dim form, his musical voice aiding me in determining his identity. I heard the sound of his shuffling footsteps as he came on, feeling the way. He, too, struck a light. He was more successful than his predecessors, and for a moment a flare in the passage showed to us two figures in all their distinctness, the pirate and his enemy in ambush. It showed to him four determined men. With a yell of rage he raised his cimetar high in air; but now I watched my chance, for fear of killing our unknown friend. The figure next us sprang aside, and my bullet went through the dastardly heart, I hope, for he never spoke. I watched the archway for more spies, but these three seemed to be the only ones who had discovered its seclusion. We came, all three, to the assistance of our unknown deliverer, and crowded and pushed the great body through the opening at the base of the wall. I listened for the splash with pleasurable feelings.

"If they were only all down there!" said the Skipper in low tones. We waited in the semi-darkness for some twenty minutes or so, but no one else came. I put out my hand to thank our unseen and silent friend, but he had vanished. We stole to the entrance of the archway and looked out. All was quiet. If the pirates were still on shore, they had found some very secluded nook where we hoped they would remain until they went aboard their devilish craft. We now began to retreat to our latticed chamber. I softly whispered to the others to follow me.

"We haven't much choice," whispered the Captain.

I knew that there were no pitfalls, for I had been over the ground twice, and if my excursion of discovery to the grand hall were counted, I had passed in all four times safely over almost the entire passage. We regained the chamber with no incident, and, after taking some water with a little of the Skipper's rum, which we much required after the horrible encounter which we had been through, and eating each one a ship's biscuit, which the thoughtful Bo's'n had brought with him, we laid ourselves down for our needed rest.

We divided ourselves into three watches. The boy we thought too young. We could not trust him to keep awake. It was now eight o'clock. The Bo's'n said that he would watch from eight to ten. I was to take the second watch from ten to twelve, and then the Skipper was to be awakened and stand his watch from twelve until two. Then I was to relieve him, and so on until morning. The Bo's'n placed himself just outside the archway, with his face toward the passage. The Skipper and I lay down just inside the opening, our pistols ready cocked and in order. I remember that in the second after I laid myself down Lacelle came out from between the pillars of the archway with her finger on her lip, and approached the Bo's'n. She whispered in his ear two words. They sounded like "Li do'." The Bo's'n said that he thought she intended to say "Elle dort," which meant, he said, "The lady is asleep." I took his word for it, and turned my weary frame over with a lighter heart, to feel that Cynthia was getting some rest after the anxieties and fatigues of the day.

Of what comes next in our history I almost hesitate to write, for fear that I shall not be believed; but I have often heard it said that truth is stranger than fiction, and so I have found in my adventurous life.

Should I sit me down to write a tale of fiction, I could not imagine anything more incredible than what befell us in our sojourn in that painful time when we were cast away, and so I have determined to recall all that I can of our dreadful experiences, than which nothing that I ever read has been more remarkable; although if I forget some of the incidents, it will be as well, for I feel that I can never hope to crowd into my story all the occurrences of our life upon the island.

I had been asleep, then, about an hour, perhaps, that first sleep when waking at a twitch of the sleeve is next to impossible. I remember that I felt as if something were pulling at my arm. I was shaken and roughly rolled about, my head was gently pounded upon the rock floor of our cavern, and I recall that I drew myself away angrily and rolled over with my head upon my arm. I was drunk with sleep, and it was not until I felt myself taken by the ankles and pulled along the cavern for a few inches than I realized that some one was trying to awaken me.

Dragging a man's hair upward from his neck by hauling him along a stone floor is not conducive to a perfectly sound sleep, and I finally opened my eyes with, I am afraid, some words upon my lips which I certainly had not learned in the Old Dutch Church at Belleville. I put my hand to the back of my head where the smart was sorest, and sat up and opened my eyes. The Bo's'n was standing over me with his finger raised, as if to say "Hush!" He need not have told me to be silent. The Skipper was snoring profoundly, the Minion was nowhere to be seen.

I saw from the Bo's'n's look that something was afoot, and I tumbled up on my unsteady legs at his bidding and pulled myself together for whatever was to come. He uttered no word, but beckoned me to follow him, and together we began to traverse the passage which led to the outside, he groping his way ahead, I following. Several times he stopped, and then I ran upon his heels.

"Keep your left hand on the wall, sir," he whispered, "and when you find an opening turn to the left, sir——"

I understood his actions now, and did as he bade me.

When, in groping along the wall, my hand suddenly left the damp stone and searched in air for something tangible to the touch, I turned sharply at a right angle, still following him, I was sure. I knew now that I was in the second passage which ran transversely across this great cave of many chambers, and that in some way the Bo's'n had found the way to the grand hall which I had discovered for myself in the early afternoon.

After we had walked some distance, groping in the dark, fearing to strike a light, I began to perceive the faint gleam that I had noticed before. I had been expecting it. At the same moment there fell upon my ear the distant murmur of voices. As we proceeded, they grew louder. There was a sound of gaiety and jolly laughter, and an occasional burst of song.

I saw that the Bo's'n was crouching as he went, and I did the same, though I saw no possible danger of discovery, as the gallery which I had explored in the afternoon was high up in the roof and was not connected with any other cave. As I was thinking thus, the Bo's'n sat down on the floor of the passage and began to remove his shoes, motioning me to do the same. I had not been accustomed to take orders from a Bo's'n, and so I whispered to him; but, with a "Beggin' your pardon, sir," he motioned to me that I could either remove my shoes or return the way I came. I had already done as he suggested, but I was a little crusty as yet from my sudden awakening.

However, no one could get put out with the Bo's'n, he was such a mild-mannered man. I was soon bare-footed as he was, for we were prudent even in the midst of danger, and neither of us cared to use up his one and only pair of socks on the damp floor of the passage. The Bo's'n had taken the lead, and he kept it. I crept along after him, feeling sure that our precautions were useless, as the buccaneers were making so much noise that it would require a great deal upon our part to betray our presence.

The Bo's'n entered the gallery and turned at once to the left, into the curve which I had discovered just before I left the place. We pushed along near the end.

"Go up farther!" I whispered, at the same time giving the Bo's'n a shove with my elbow.

"Can't, sir, begging your pardon, sir," whispered the Bo's'n in return.

There was a faint light coming up from the centre of the great hall, and by its aid I discovered that there was some one in the extreme end of the balcony.

"It's that dam' Minion!" whispered the Bo's'n.

The Minion was certainly ubiquitous, and he was quite as useless. How he had been foisted upon our party I could not see, not being perfectly conversant with the ways of Providence. There seemed no moral for him to point, and I felt then as now that he certainly did not adorn a tale. That Heaven had sent him into the world for some good purpose I wanted to believe, but what that purpose might be I was quite confident would never be discovered in my time. Now, as usual, he was in the way, but I give the Bo's'n credit for squeezing him into the corner and nearly crowding the life out of him.

The Minion had the proscenium box, so to speak. He had pulled the vines aside, and was looking down as calmly upon this villainous crew as if the flare from below was not striking directly upon his features. I pulled him down with a jerk of the shirt which threatened to split it across the shoulders. Bringing the Minion to the floor made more noise than I liked, and caused the Bo's'n to look respectful daggers at me. The Minion only grinned, but clutched madly at the rough edges of the rock which protruded into the gallery. When he arose again he kept well out of sight behind the lattice work of leaves. From the time that we entered the gallery the shouts and revelry had been deafening. I could with difficulty restrain myself from parting the vines widely, that I might look unrestrainedly down upon what I knew must be an exciting scene, for when I arose from my crawling posture and found a convenient eyehole between the leaves the strange sight upon which I gazed almost made my heart stand still.

What shall I describe first?

The glow which allowed us to see that which was going on beneath us, and threw its soft rays over the actors in this strange drama, was shed from the antique globe which I had discovered upon my first visit to this part of the cavern. Then, however, it rested sidewise upon the floor. Now it was raised so as to clear the head of a man, and swung safely from its rope of vine. I understood now that when last it was left to swing in the cave it had not been used for some time after, and the vine, growing during the absence of the band, had gradually laid the great perforated globe as gently upon the floor of the cave as could have been done by a woman's hand.

A subdued and lovely light filtered through its metal arabesques and sent a soft glow through the grand interior of the cavern. A clear beam was cast upon the walls. It lighted up the skeletons in their niches, and gave to the teeth glistening in its rays a fixed and dreadful smile. The brightest gleam fell upon the central basin. The receptacle which I had noticed in the centre of the hall was now filled with some dark liquid. The fumes of this liquid were so overpowering as to leave no doubt in my mind as to its nature.

As to the living occupants of this strange interior, I saw that most of those whom we had seen debark were present. One of the huge blocks of stone which I had supposed were used for tables had been rolled or pushed to near proximity of the central bowl. Upon this great rock, which now partook of the nature of a throne, was seated the Admiral of the Red, his gnomelike figure and habiliments, which doubtless gave him his sobriquet, making him to appear like some grotesque figure from wonderland.

Captain Jonas sat facing the Admiral, but upon a lower seat, and the rest of the company were gathered about, giving respectful attention to their leader, who seemed about to speak. At a little distance, left quite to himself, stood the young Englishman. He was pale and ghastly. His eyes had the hunted look of a man who is in the last stage of agony and despair. I thought that once or twice I saw his lips move. He glanced upward, as if he felt that his only friend was not an earthly one. Again, I saw him turn his glance to the archway of the entrance, as if escape might not be in vain. But alas! in that doorway stood two ruffianly looking fellows, one on either side of the entrance. They leaned each one against the wall behind him, and held a great sword the like of which I had never seen. The point of the sword touched the opposite wall, and crossed the one held by the man facing, so that hope of escape, unless an angel came down from heaven to guide the way, was impossible.

The remains of a coarse feast lay upon the table, but the chief interest seemed to circle round the magnificent jorum in the centre of the hall. Each man held a cup in his hand, which swayed unsteadily because of his heavy potations. These cups were some of silver, some of pewter, and others of gold. The drinking cup which the Admiral held was of gold, and so tall that he could almost drink from it as it rested upon his knee. I wondered at his being able to lift it, but his strength seemed enormous, which is, I believe, one of the attributes of dwarfs in general.