Commodore Junk

“No fooling! Where is that prisoner?”

“Which one, sor?”

“No fooling, Paddy! Captain Armstrong?”

“Faix, an’ he must have run away, skeart loike, whin he heerd you were coming.”

“You know where he is?”

“Faix, and that’s thrue,” said Dinny.

“Where is he, then? Tell me the truth, and I’ll let you live this time. Tell me a lie, and I’ll hang you.”

“Och, don’t, captain! Ye’d waken yer crew horribly if ye were to hang me.”

“I’ll hang you, as sure as you stand there, if you don’t confess.”

“Murther! Don’t, now, captain, for I shouldn’t die dacently if ye did hang me. It isn’t a way I’ve been accustomed to. Ah, moind! That pishtol might go off.”

“It will go off if you don’t speak. He’s hidden somewhere here, and you know where. Speak out!”

“Shpake out! And is it shpake out?” said Dinny, slowly as with advanced blade Humphrey stood ready to plunge it into the breast of the first man who attempted to descend. “Oh, well, I’ll shpake out then.”

“The traitor!” mattered Humphrey. “False to one, false to all.”

“Where is he, then?” roared Mazzard.

“Faix, he’s in his skin, captain.”

“You dog!” roared Mazzard. And there was the report of a pistol, followed by a wild shriek.

“Don’t – don’t kill!” cried a piteous woman’s voice. “Don’t kill him!”

“Not kill him!” snarled Mazzard.

“No – no! Spare him, and I’ll tell you.”

“Bedad, an’ if ye do, I’ll niver forgive ye,” cried Dinny, fiercely. “Ye don’t know nawthing. He’s eshcaped.”

“Where is he!” roared Mazzard. “Speak out, woman, or I’ll blow his head off!”

Humphrey sprang up a couple of steps to defend Dinny; but Mary Dell lay there, and to show himself was to betray her – the woman whom he knew he passionately loved. Of himself he thought nothing.

But the task of betrayal to save her lover was spared to Mistress Greenheys, for, as Black Mazzard stood with one hand on Dinny’s shoulder, and his second pistol pointed close to his ear, so that his second shot should not fail, one of his men exclaimed aloud —

“Why, he’s there! Look at the blood!”

Mazzard turned and glanced down at the floor upon which he stood, then at the stained stone which formed the cover of the vault. He uttered a harsh laugh, for the stone had been slightly moved.

“Here, half a dozen of you!” he roared. “Lay hold!”

His men seized the stone; and after one or two trials to raise it up, it was thrust sideways, and the hiding-place revealed.

With a yell of savage delight Black Mazzard began to descend, followed by his crew. There was the clash of swords, two men fell, wallowing in their blood, and then Humphrey drew back into the corner before Mary Dell, determined to defend her to the last.

Two more men went down; and there was a brief pause, followed by a savage rush and a mêlée, in which Humphrey’s sword snapped off at the hilt, and the next minute he was above in the great chamber, pinioned between two of Mazzard’s men; and Mary Dell was borne up to lie at her conqueror’s feet.

“You savage!” roared Humphrey, as he sank panting on a stone.

“Savage!” retorted Mazzard, with a brutal grin. “Stand up, you dog!”

“Stand yourself – in the presence of your king’s officer!” shouted Humphrey in his rage.

“King!” cried Mazzard, mockingly. “I’m king here. Now then, you!” he cried to his men, who enjoyed seeing him bearded. “Quick! – two ropes!”

He turned sharply upon his men, who hurried off to obey the command.

Humphrey gazed at Mazzard aghast. The threat implied in the order seemed too horrible to be believed, and for the moment he looked round in doubt.

But Mazzard was in power; and in a few minutes the ropes were forthcoming.

Humphrey glanced from the men who approached and then at Mary Dell, with the intention of proclaiming her sex; but a horrible feeling of dread thrilled through him at the thought of making such a revelation to the monsters who had gained the upper-hand, and, gathering himself up, he waited his time, and then wrested himself free, sending the men who held him right and left, and leaped to where – unable to stand upright – his fellow prisoner was held.

Before they could recover from their surprise he had torn a sword from one of them, and, whirling it round his head, he drove them back, and clasping Mary Dell’s waist, stood with flashing eyes, ready for the first who would attack.

“Is there no man here who will help?” he shouted.

“Bedad there is!” cried Dinny, leaping upon the nearest, and in a moment tearing his weapon from his hand. “If I die for it, captain, it shall be like a man.”

Black Mazzard stood for a moment aghast at the daring displayed. Then a grim look of savagery crossed his evil countenance, and he drew his sword.

“Now, my lads,” he said, fiercely, “it’s three ropes we want, I see. Come on.”

He made a rush forward, followed by his men; but at this moment a solitary shot flashed from the folds of the curtain, and as the report reverberated through the great stone chamber, Black Mazzard span round as if upon a pivot, and fell with a heavy thud upon the floor.

His men paused in their onslaught, appalled by the suddenness of their leader’s fall; but as they saw Bart come forward, piece in hand, their hesitation turned to rage, and they advanced once more to the attack.

“Good-bye!” whispered Humphrey, bending for a moment over Mary, who clung to him, her eyes fixed on his with a longing, despairing gaze, and then, as he thrust her back, the attack began.

The odds were about eight to one, and the issue could not for a moment be in doubt; but hardly had sword met sword, and blow been exchanged, when a ringing cheer arose, and with a rush a couple of dozen well-armed sailors dashed in by corridor and window, and the tables were completely turned.

There was a rush made for the door, but those who tried in that direction were driven back; while half a dozen who backed into a corner of the great chamber, as if desperately determined to sell their lives dearly, were boldly attacked and beaten down, the whole party being reduced from the savage band of followers of the dead ruffian at their feet to a herd of helpless prisoners, abject to a degree.

Humphrey saw nothing of this, only that they were saved; for, dropping his sword, he sank on his knees by the side of her who lay back with her eyes fixed upon him, full of a longing, imploring look, whose import he read too well.

He bent down closely to her to take her hand in his, and started to find that it was cold; but there was vitality in it enough for the fingers to close upon his hand tightly, while the lips he kissed moved slightly, and he heard as faintly as if just breathed —

“It is better so.”