Jack Harkaway and His Son's Escape from the Brigands of Greece Part 17

The huge American dashed into the thick of the enemy.

The a.s.sa.s.sination of poor little Magog Brand had fired his fury, and his charge was something terrific.

He dashed into the midst of the half cowed bandits, and swinging his arms around him like the sails of a windmill, he "gra.s.sed" a man at every stroke.

But this could not last for long.

As the Greeks grew stronger in numbers, they stood upon the defensive.

They were rea.s.sured.

They had seven-and-twenty men against the five.

The five, too, large-hearted though they were, had the two girls to look after.

Amongst the latest comers upon the bandits' side was one man who was a petty officer of the brigands, and he gave a few hurried commands, which had the effect of putting Harkaway and his friends into a very awkward predicament.

"Load and fire," said the brigand, "Shoot them all down."

If they could but succeed in getting a shot or two at the bold Jefferson, or at any of the party, it would speedily be all over with them.

But now, when individual bravery could no longer avail them, they had a rare slice of luck.

Suddenly a rattling volley of musketry was heard, and three of the Greeks bit the dust, while a number of cries told that several were hit.

And then a detachment of gendarmes dashed up into the open at a swinging trot.

And who headed this very welcome party?

Who but two youths that have been heard of before in these pages?

Who indeed but young Jack Harkaway and his friend Harry Girdwood?

CHAPTER VI.

SUNDAY RUBS OFF AN OLD SCORE--THE BRIGANDS--WHAT HAPPENED AT THE PORTER'S LODGE--A STRANGE BLIND BEGGAR.

"Hurrah!"

"Give them another."

"Load again."

"Another volley."

A rapid, irregular discharge followed, and the Greeks, with cries of fear and rage, dropped their arms and fled precipitately, panic-stricken.

The gendarmes followed them up, and several were knocked over and secured; and behind them the brigands had left no less than seven of their number who had not been able to get off.

Amongst those seven were two men that it was no small gratification to the Harkaway party to see once more in their power.

These two men were Hunston and Toro the Italian.

Sunday stood over the latter, leathering into his half insensible carcase in a way that threatened to cover it with bruises; and at every blow he had something fresh to say.

"Take dat!" he exclaimed, punching into Toro's ribs, "you dam n.i.g.g.e.r."

Toro, dazed with what he had suffered in his shaking, could offer no resistance.

"And dere's another, you ugly tief!" said the virtuous Sunday. "I'll gib you what for; you shall hab what Paddy gib the drum, you 'fernal black skunk; I show yar what John up the orchard is, you--you Italian organ-grinding sweep--You chestnut-munching beast!"

Sunday had never forgotten his first acquaintance with Toro.

The reader will doubtless bear it in mind, since with it is connected one of the most startling episodes of Jack Harkaway's history, in his voyage round the world with young Jack.

It was at the hotel in New York that the Harkaways first met with Sunday, too, for here they were the means of rescuing him from the brutal violence of the ruffian Toro.

It was, in fact, this which led up to that scene of terror--the firing of the hotel by Hunston and Toro.

Sunday had suffered at Toro's hands, but had never had his whack back.

But now the darkey showed the half insensible Italian the full signification of "John up de orchard," and likewise of "what for," and "what Paddy gave the drum."

Hunston and Toro were thrown into prison, with the few brigands captured and their discomfited chieftain Mathias.

Such was the end of their exploit.

When once they were in prison, however, it required some exertion on the part of the authorities to keep them there.

The gang were unceasing in their endeavours to release them.

Artifices of every kind were tried to accomplish it, but the Harkaways had foreseen that no stone would be left unturned by the murderous friends of the captured robbers; and they knew the good old-fas.h.i.+oned saying--"forewarned, forearmed.'"

The prison in which they we re confined was situated at the waterside, and it was approachable by boat, where the entrance was beneath a low, vaulted archway.

The day after the capture of the notorious robbers, a poor cripple hobbled up to the porter's lodge, dragging himself painfully along by the aid of a stick in one hand and a crutch under his other arm.

"Move off," said the porter gruffly; "we have nothing to give away here."

"I don't ask your charity," replied the cripple humbly; "accept this, good sir, as a peace offering."

And then, to the porter's surprise, he dropped a coin into his hand.