Zero the Slaver Part 9

Well was it for Stanforth Kenyon that years of rigid training in his own peculiar walk of life enabled him to support to perfection the somewhat difficult, because exquisitely simple, character, which his supreme audacity had undertaken. The extreme darkness of the night was, however, favourable to his enterprise, as there were but few people about, and the detective found himself in the very centre of Equatoria without being accosted by anyone. The town, to his surprise, proved to be very compactly built, and consisted of perhaps five hundred houses, mostly composed of wood and roofed with iron, the only exceptions to this rule being what were evidently the public offices of the place, which were built of a mixture of sand and gravel, a composition going amongst the natives by the name of "swish," and which presented, so far as he could see by the light of the oil-lamps hung round the buildings, an extremely handsome appearance.

Just as Kenyon was about to move forward after carefully taking stock of the place, a young girl started out from a side street, and laid a gently detaining hand upon his arm.

"Father," she said, "I have looked and longed for thee every night, and feared that thou wert ill. Come and see my boy, I beseech thee, good father, for he dies--he dies before my face, and here is none to help but thee."

With a sign of brief a.s.sent, the detective turned and halted slowly along, despite the manifest impatience of the young and anxious mother.

Turning into a small house some little way along the street, she led him through a comfortably but roughly furnished parlour, into a bed-room at the rear, where lay a baby boy not more than eighteen months old, and whom his medical experience soon a.s.sured him was suffering from a slight attack of that most malignant disease, diphtheria.

Knowing, through Grenville, that the old hermit had acted in the capacity of physician and surgeon to both slavers and natives, Kenyon, before he left the cavern, had provided himself with several articles, including a small case of phials, likely to be of use in supporting his a.s.sumption of the character of a medical pract.i.tioner; and, briefly directing the young mother to keep the child quiet and supply him with cooling drinks, he carefully painted the tonsils with perchloride of iron, and left her instructions to continue this treatment.

As Kenyon, however, was moving away, the grateful mother again stopped him. "Father," she said, "I call thee such by permission; canst thou do naught for yon poor woman whom these cruel, heartless Mormons have condemned to death by fire, because she will not change her faith and 'marry' one of their own creatures. Thou knowest my history, my father; how I was stolen away when but a girl, and wedded to a man I used to hate, and that my happiest hour was when he died in battle. Yet do I love my little son, and could I but give freedom to this woman I would fly the country with her, and take refuge with the brave men of my own race who have escaped hence, and who now hold Zero at defiance."

"Where lies this woman, my daughter?" said the false hermit, after making a show of thinking carefully for some little time.

"Still in the same strong place, my father--the great hall of the common prison-house; and at noon, next day but one, she suffers at the stake.

Save her, if thou canst, my father; and if it be indeed beyond thy power, then give her, in mercy, a draught of swift and deadly poison, if thou hast such, and earn a double blessing from her ere she dies."

With a promise that he would endeavour on the following night to see the condemned one referred to, our adventurer at length got away from the importunate woman, and effected, undiscovered, his retreat to the well, and thence into the depths of the mountain, where he, of course, found the Zulu on guard, the pair being soon after this relieved by Umbulanzi and the young Scotsman, Ewan, of whom all had formed a high opinion, both as to shrewdness and bravery.

Arrived in the cave above, Kenyon communicated to his astonished and admiring friends his experiment and the result of it, and all then fell to eagerly discussing ways and means for the rescue of the poor condemned woman from her villainous judges and would-be executioners; and, ere the party lay down to sleep, it was decided that Kenyon should make an attempt to see her the following night in his character of a priest, and learn what suggestions the captive could herself make, with regard to a plan to save her life and give her back her liberty.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

"HOPE."

On the following night, therefore, as soon as darkness fell, Kenyon, disguised to represent the old hermit, again entered the slavers' town, whilst Leigh, Grenville, Amaxosa, and a score of picked men lay in wait below the well, from which, in the event of hearing a given signal whistle, they were to sally out and a.s.sist our adventurous friend.

The detective went about his accustomed work with the greatest _nonchalance_; and, on reaching the building which had been pointed out to him the previous night, simply and plainly told the guard that he wished to have speech of the condemned woman. Without a word of reply, one of the men on duty signed to Kenyon to follow him, and well might our adventurer, under the loose folds of his cloak, clench his fingers over the b.u.t.t of a friendly revolver when he found himself ushered directly into the well-known and hated presence of Zero the Slaver. For a moment the impulse was almost unconquerable in Kenyon to slip out his six-shooter and make an end of this inhuman monster without further palaver; but, recognising how much hung upon the result of his actions that night, he wisely restrained his pa.s.sions.

The slaver was sitting in a handsomely got-up room carpeted with furs, and thick with weapons and with trophies of the chase, and opposite to him--fortunately, perhaps, for Kenyon--sat the native king already spoken of, and who immediately did our adventurer reverence, in his capacity of Muzi Zimba the Ancient.

As the guard detailed his errand. Zero rose with a sneering laugh.

"Ay! let him go to her," he said, "and look 'ee here, old man, if this captive escapes me as did the last ones, thine own life shall pay the forfeit. Now go, nay, by all the G.o.ds, I will go too!" and, pa.s.sing on in front of the supposed hermit, he provided Kenyon with another almost overpowering temptation to use his weapons.

Unbarring the door of another room, Zero let the hermit in and closed the portal behind them both, and Kenyon found himself face to face with an imperially beautiful woman, still quite young, but whose lovely face was worn with sorrow and anguish, and furrowed with her bitter tears. A tall, well-knit figure, a wealth of l.u.s.trous golden hair, and glorious deep blue eyes, formed a _tout ensemble_ which might have won pity from a stone, but had no effect whatever upon this scoundrel who battened on human misery.

"Well, madam," said the slaver, in cutting tones, "you have your own obstinacy to thank for your death, which takes place to-morrow. Here's a priest for you, so be quick and say your patter, or whatever it is.

You'd be surprised to see how fast your precious boy is picking up the tenets of our Holy Mormon Faith," and the demon laughed a jeering, taunting laugh, which made Kenyon's blood boil, and he could have kissed the feet of the defenceless woman before him for the gesture of ineffable contempt with which she turned her back on the wretched hound.

"Pray, begone," she said in a firm but musical voice; "your hated presence comes between me and my G.o.d."

"Ha! ha!" laughed the sardonic ruffian; "one for you, Sir Priest, one for you, I reckon. Well, come along with you, I've no time to fool away here." But Kenyon, mindful of the part he had to play, took not the slightest notice of the slaver, but kneeled reverently down by himself for a few brief moments, then rose and left the room obedient to an impatient signal from the fierce and wicked man, whom his fingers fairly itched to throttle then and there.

Had Zero looked behind him he would have been greatly astonished to see the captive woman bend simply down and gaze wildly at the floor beneath her feet; and then, in a mighty revulsion of feeling, give way to a perfect paroxysm of tears and sobs. What, you ask, gentle reader, was the cause of this sudden and subtle change from strength to weakness?

What? Simply Stanforth Kenyon's message written with the point of his finger on a dusty boarded floor, and that message was:

"Hope."

Only four precious letters; yet this man had written them at the peril of his life. It must, it did, mean something, and all her woman's wit was instantly on the alert to lay hold of the earliest clue to the whereabouts of these her secret friends.

Hope! Oh pity her, gentle reader, a lovely woman in the zenith of her beauty and the pride of motherhood, condemned to die a frightful death before another day had run its course, and die merely to satisfy the insensate malice of a ruffian Mormon hound.

Turning away from Zero, Kenyon would have left the building in silence; but the slaver laid upon his shoulder a firm, detaining hand. "Softly, my good old man! 'Softly! softly! catch monkey,' as these infernal n.i.g.g.e.rs say. You live on the mountain, and I reckon you can see a long way. Now have you seen naught of this cursed Grenville and the pack of fools who follow him? Speak out, man, or I guess I'll soon find means to open your wretched old jaws."

Like a flash of light, an inspiration came to Kenyon; and, drawing himself up proudly, he shook off the slaver's hand. "The men ye name are even now within my cave upon the hill," he said. "Go seek them if ye dare, monster of evil, but beware the end thereof; beware, for Muzi Zimba warns thee!"

The effect was precisely what Kenyon had calculated upon. Flinging the old man from him with a fearful oath, the slaver sent his powerful voice echoing through the house and out along the streets, calling up guards and officers in every direction, whilst our adventurous friend soon after took his departure, entirely unnoticed during the tumult which followed the communication of the news which he had given, regarding the position of his friends.

Hanging about for a few moments, however, Kenyon learned all he wished to know, as he heard Zero, with a volley of oaths, exclaim: "Put off her execution? No, by all the G.o.ds--no, tie the s.l.u.t to the f.a.ggots at noon to-morrow, and let her roast, and mind you have her whelp of a son to watch her die, whilst I eat up these cursed fools who think to change my vengeance and to spoil my trade."

This was all that Kenyon required to know, and an hour later he was deep in consultation with his friends in the hermit's cave, amongst the northern hills.

It was agreed on all hands that Kenyon had acted for the best, as the plan he had formed, though simple in the extreme, had every promise of a grand success.

Briefly, the scheme stood thus:--Whilst Zero was moving up to the attack, as he evidently meant to do next morning, a party of their own was, by way of the secret pa.s.sage and the well, to enter Equatoria, fall upon the few guards left there, carry off the captive woman, and generally do as much damage to the slavers' town as they found it in their power to accomplish. It was calculated that the rifles of Leigh, Umbulanzi, and Ewan, supported by the Atagbondo marksmen, would be quite sufficient to check Zero in his ascent up the steep and difficult path to the cavern; and, even if he forced his way so far, he would have to reckon with about two hundred of the Atagbondo, and would find their warriors uncommonly hard nuts to crack; whilst Kenyon and Grenville, who were to a.s.sail the town, would take with them Amaxosa and his men, together with a hundred of the "People of the Stick," quite sufficient, they thought, to do irreparable damage to the slavers' home in the two hours which they promised themselves to spend in Equatoria.

And so, after looking carefully over their arms and their defences, the little band lay down to sleep that night with perfect confidence in their leaders, and in the issues of the morrow; only Leigh sat up the whole night cleaning his weapons, with murder in his heart, and a wealth of determined resolve upon his handsome face.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

ALIVE FROM THE DEAD.

Soon after dawn the whole party was astir, and the defenders of the cave were quickly at their several posts, whilst Kenyon and Grenville again carefully looked over their plan of attack.

Grenville was fortunately able to define the probable site of the execution, knowing from experience, that the miserable victims done to death by the infamous Mormon Inquisitors were _either burned alive or crucified_ upon a small natural hill--a curious smooth-topped, skull-shaped mound, in fact, perhaps fifty feet in height, and which, fortunately, stood between the mouth of the old well and the slavers'

town, and was equi-distant from each, perhaps five or six yards. It was a shrewd count, therefore, that the little rescue-party would be able to get within easy rifle range before they were discovered by the enemy; and, as Zero would be certain to carry practically the whole of the fighting population with him, it was extremely probable that when our friends unmasked their party, a general stampede for safety on the part of the slavers would be the immediate result, when it was hoped that the poor captive woman would be quite forgotten, and, being left behind, would prove an easy acquisition, and when they once had her in safety, the hands of our friends would, of course, be perfectly free to act in the way that might seem best.

At eleven o'clock the leaders of the storming party exchanged a warm hand-grasp with Leigh and Umbulanzi, and left the cavern by way of the tunnel, through which we will now follow their fortunes.

The getting of such a relatively large number of men down through this singular mountain burrow and up beyond the mouth of the well on the other side of the range, took considerably longer than the detective had reckoned upon, and the hour was within a very few minutes of noon by the time that all were safely hidden in the straggling line of bush which masked their presence, and impinged upon the narrow stretch of veldt lying between their position and the curious knoll referred to, upon which, to their horror, our friends could now plainly see a great upright stake fixed, and around this post were placed bundles of heavy f.a.ggots, packed closely with a resinous, woody fibre, and even while they looked, the executioner appeared upon the hill, carrying in his hand a swinging brazier, filled with some burning substance.

Grenville quickly pointed out that the victim was to be faced towards the town, which was another circ.u.mstance in their favour, as the crest of the knoll would effectually screen their movements from the preoccupied herd of sightseers beyond.

All hearts beat fast as they saw the poor sufferer led up and bound to the martyr stake, whilst the mighty, spontaneous shout which went up to heaven, caused each man's fingers to clinch anxiously upon his weapons, as it proved to them that the mult.i.tude beyond the knoll could be no inconsiderable one.

The instant that the executioner turned his back upon the well, and busied himself with the fastening of the poor woman to the stake, Grenville gave the word, and the whole party as one man shot noiselessly out of the bush, and commenced a jog-trot across the open s.p.a.ce which separated them from the scene of the execution. When all were within a hundred yards, the wretched fellow upon the hill turned him round and saw them; then uttering a wild shout, and hurriedly bending down, he seized a lighted brand and endeavoured, with trembling hands, to thrust it in amongst the f.a.ggots.

Dropping quickly upon one knee, Grenville raised his rifle, but still somewhat weak and shaken by the sharp run, for once he missed his man.

Kenyon, however, quickly following, "wiped his eye," knocking the rascal head-over-heels off the hill.

A great roar of surprise and wonder burst from the mob beyond the knoll, changed to a shriek of terror and consternation as the fierce Zulus sent their wild battle-cry echoing across the rolling veldt, and charged right up the hill, instantly surrounding the poor creature at the stoke, and killing the Mormon satellites who were clambering up to the spot.

And now ensued a stubborn fight, for Zero had left behind him many more men than our friends had counted upon, and these, having mostly left their rifles behind them in the town, charged madly up the little hill, and furiously engaged the rescue-party hand-to-hand, and for quite five minutes the cause of all this tumult was utterly forgotten, whilst the fight swung fiercely to and fro, and the issue hung in doubt. Our friends certainly had the advantage of position, whilst the slavers, on the other hand, still stood in the proportion of at least two to one; but the fiery valour of the active Zulus, n.o.bly backed by the almost insensate fury of the injured "People of the Stick," would brook no living check, and presently, led by Amaxosa, they went right through the slaver crowd, cutting them down on every hand, and driving all that were left of the wretched men pell-mell into the town, which both bands entered simultaneously.

Kenyon then bethought him of the prisoner, and, taking Grenville back, both men turned to ascend the hill, and relieve the poor girl from her painful and dangerous position. Still as a statue she stood, with her head drooping forward upon her breast, and for one moment the thought that some stray shot had struck her crossed painfully the minds of both; but when they had arrived within twenty yards of her position the girl heard them, and quickly raised her head, her beautiful face all wet with tears, and eloquent with voiceless prayers to heaven. Staggering back, as if struck by a shot, Grenville, to Kenyon's utter astonishment, dropped his gun, and threw up his hands in a frenzy of terror.