Jack Harkaway and His Son's Escape from the Brigands of Greece Part 73

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE BRIGAND'S RECRUIT--HUNSTON'S PERIL--DELICATE GROUND.

"Who is it?"

"Where?"

"Below; down that creva.s.se. Look again."

"I see; it is Ymeniz."

"It is, it is."

The speakers were two of the brigands who were plying their lawless trade; and pa.s.sing along a mountain ridge, a short time after the execution, they suddenly espied the body of a man lying flat upon his back.

Upon his breast was something white, which they could not quite distinguish.

The form and features, however, they had no particular difficulty in recognising.

It was their comrade Ymeniz, they could see well.

"He has fallen down there," said one to the other.

"It looks so."

Now, strange to relate, that although they said this to each other, they both had misgivings.

The body lay in such a strange att.i.tude.

However, they soon proceeded to solve the problem, and set all doubts at rest.

Pa.s.sing down to a lower ridge by a circuitous path well known to them both, they reached the bottom of the creva.s.se.

"He is dead--murdered!"

"Hah!"

"And here, by all the powers of evil!" exclaimed the brigand, "here is the confession of the murderer."

"A confession!" exclaimed the brigand.

"Yes. Take it," said the other, lifting the paper from the blood- stained breast of the slain Ymeniz, "take it and read for yourself."

"Nay, you know I am no scholar; do you read it out to me."

In a sonorous voice the brigand read the following doc.u.ment--

"I, Jack Harkaway, proclaim war to the knife against the murderers of my boys. The villains Hunston and Toro will tell you all that I never threatened in vain. One of your number shall die daily until I have exterminated you root and branch. No amount of precaution upon your part can avert your doom. You claimed a ransom of five hundred pounds for my son. I have paid the sum demanded, and you have played me false; therefore, you die. To the last man you shall perish. You shall learn to look forward to your fate in fear and trembling; and day by day the survivors, antic.i.p.ating their turn, shall learn to curse the hour that they were led to murder my two innocent boys. Beware!"

The two brigands looked at each other half scared.

"What of that, do you think?"

The other looked nervously around him before replying.

"It is grave."

"Very."

"Poor Ymeniz! he has been stabbed in the back."

"No; here is the death wound below the heart."

"Then he has not been taken by surprise."

"Evidently."

The two men made their way with all despatch to their camp, carrying the paper with them.

The sensation it caused is indescribable when Boulgaris read it aloud to the a.s.sembled brigands.

"Death to the Englishman Harkaway!" exclaimed one of the brigands, impetuously.

The cry was caught eagerly up by all--save one.

This one was Hunston.

It was not that he hated Harkaway less intensely than his comrades that he remained silent.

It was simply that in his fierce denunciation of the brigands, Harkaway had told about the money.

Lirico was barely cold in his grave for an offence which, beside that of Hunston's, was a mere paltry pilfering.

The secret was in great danger now.

If they should believe Harkaway, then his (Hunston's) position was indeed critical. What should he do? What would be better than to cast doubt and derision upon Harkaway's dark menaces.

"The man is a charlatan, a humbug," he said, curling his lip; "and his purpose is more than accomplished could he but know it, which he does not, I am glad to say. He would laugh rarely could he but know what an alarm you have taken at this message."

But they would not let this pa.s.s unchallenged.

"It is no joke, Hunston," said Boulgaris, seriously.

"How do you know?" demanded Hunston, quickly.