Jack Harkaway and His Son's Escape from the Brigands of Greece Part 63

"Whither?"

"To the mountains."

Harkaway looked frightened at this.

"Not to trust yourself in the brigands' clutches?"

"I mean to beard the tigers in their lair," echoed d.i.c.k firmly; "not a word, Jack," he added, as he saw Harkaway about to interrupt him, "not a word; the worthy Richard Harvey will not go, but his spirit in another skin will go."

"You are never going to trust yourself in a disguise."

"I am."

"Why, d.i.c.k, old friend, were you that unhappy man Protean Bob himself, Hunston would penetrate your disguise; the eye of hate--"

"Nonsense. If I were Protean Bob, Hunston would be too glad not to recognise me."

"Perhaps."

"Now, Jack, you must listen to me, and not give advice. My determination is taken; nothing can shake it. Hilda and the family generally must suppose that I have gone to the port to arrange about our departure, since they all appear to be so thoroughly bent upon leaving here."

"But they will never believe a word about it."

"That I can not help, but at all events I leave here to-morrow, at daybreak, and may the shade of one of their victims aid me to throw dust in the eyes of Hunston and the Italian villain Toro."

"Amen," said Harkaway, seriously.

Surely enough, at daybreak, someone set forth from the villa, but although we who are behind the scenes can give a shrewd guess at who it was, the early wanderer looked about as unlike d.i.c.k as you could well imagine.

Was it indeed d.i.c.k?

CHAPTER XXII.

THE SILK DRESS-MURDER!

The morning after the interview between Hunston and the widow of Mathias, that woman was missing from the camp.

No one doubted that she had gone on her errand of vengeance, for Hunston had told Toro and one or two others of her threats against the Harkaways; but the question was how and when she did so?

No one knew.

The sentinels who all night long had guarded each known path leading to or from the bivouac were questioned, but neither of them had seen her depart.

Toro was rather annoyed at this; not that he had any great objection to her slaughtering the whole of the Harkaway family, although he certainly would prefer to perform that task himself. But he could not help thinking that a secret path might admit foes, as well as permit the exit of friends.

However, we must leave Toro to his reflections, and follow the brigand's widow.

It was between one and two in the morning when she quitted the bivouac without being observed, and walked slowly towards the town where the Harkaways were located.

There was no occasion for hurry.

At that hour of the morning she could not hope to gain admittance to the house where her foes were located.

A day must pa.s.s, and evening come again, before any thing could be done.

Diana's brain was in a whirl.

Deep-seated, poignant grief for the loss of one whom she had loved with all the pa.s.sion her impetuous nature was capable of, made the thought and hope of revenge grow stronger and stronger.

Vengeance! aye, and a terrible one was what her soul craved.

Let once the deadly blow be stricken, and what matter then even if she fell into the hands of the authorities? What matter even if her life was p.r.o.nounced a forfeit to the law? for life now had little charm for her.

As the sun rose, she sat down a little way out of the road and tried to form some connected plan for carrying out her purpose.

But no! her brain was too confused for deep thought, and after a brief interval she resolved to act upon no plan whatever, but simply do as the course of events might dictate.

At about the hour when she thought the inhabitants of the town would begin to stir, Diana walked into the place.

She knew the residence of the Harkaways well, but scarcely glanced at it as she pa.s.sed and proceeded to a little house not far from it, where, according to an inscription over the door, one might obtain food, drink and lodging.

Entering this place, Diana made a slender meal, and then, telling the ancient dame who kept the house that she was fatigued, demanded to be shown where she could repose for an hour or two.

The old woman ushered her into a small, meanly-furnished apartment at the front of the house,

"Do not disturb me. I will rest till noon if not later," said Diana.

"You shall not be interrupted," was the response, and Diana was left alone.

She tried to sleep, so that she might be stronger and cooler for the business she had in hand; but the excitement under which she laboured effectually chased away drowsiness.

A little after noon the woman of the house looked in, and finding her lodger awake, entered into conversation, commencing by suggesting some refreshment.

Diana shook her head.

"Ah, my food is very plain and humble," said the old woman. "I can't give you such dainties as the people over yonder eat."

She jerked her thumb in the direction of the Harkaway residence.

"What people are they?" asked Diana, with an a.s.sumed indifference she was far from feeling.

"Some English."