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

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  HUNSTON IN THE CAMP AGAIN--RETROSPECTION--A DEVILISH PLOT--DARKCLOUDS GATHER OVER THE HARKAWAYS.

  "Who goes there?"

  "A friend."

  "The word?"

  "Mathias."

  "Stand; advance a step, and I fire. Ha! I see you now. I did notrecognise your voice, Hunston."

  "I thought not; but why all this precaution?"

  "Fear has induced us to change the countersign. We believe there ismischief abroad, and so extra precautions are needed."

  "Right, Ymeniz," said Hunston, who had been out scouting for a fewhours after the execution of Pike, "although it is to be feared thatthe blindness which prevents your recognition of a friend and comrademay mislead you as to the real character of an enemy, should one dareto penetrate thus far."

  The sentry laughed.

  "Fear nothing on that score, Hunston," he said.

  "Indeed I do."

  "My carefulness may turn even friends into enemies, but fear, or overcarefulness--"

  "It is much the same thing," suggested Hunston.

  "Right; but it is not likely to make me take foes for friends."

  "I doubt it."

  "You have a cunning tongue, friend Hunston," said the sentry, who wasjust a little bit nettled, "but I don't believe that you could provethat to my satisfaction."

  "I might do it to the one or the other," returned Hunston, caustically;"but certainly not to both, the two are so opposed."

  This was just a dash too subtle for the sentry, and so Hunston passedon without further remark.

  A few steps further on he came to a group formed of the brigands,gathered around Pedro, a brigand who had been of some little assistancein the rescue of Hunston, but who unlike Tomaso, had managed to escape.

  He was recounting the late adventures--from his own episode in thetale--of Hunston.

  Hunston walked up to the centre of the group.

  "Pedro," he said, "you rescued me, and perhaps saved my life; accept myhand, and with it my eternal gratitude." Pedro stepped back. He wincedinstead of taking the proffered hand, and his countenance fell.

  "Pardon me Hunston," he said; "I'm very glad to have been of service toyou, to have been able to save a comrade, but--"

  He paused.

  Hunston frowned.

  "But what?"

  "Don't be too grateful."

  The tone, no less than the nature of the request, sounded just a littlebit comical, and it made the bystanders, Hunston included, smile.

  "What do you mean by that, my preserver? Why should I not be grateful?"

  "Because I have heard it said that your gratitude brought bad luck toanyone who had really befriended you."

  Hunston started.

  He thought of Robert Emmerson.

  That arm did its inventor's work well, indeed.

  Not a day passed but Hunston realised the truth of the legend inscribedon the mechanical arm.

  Not a day passed, but that he saw how fearfully was the legacy ofvengeance bequeathed by the murdered Protean Bob being carried out.

  Dropping his glance in some confusion for a moment, he turned sharplyupon the brigand after a little reflection.

  Pedro could know nothing of the death of Emmerson.

  Nay, it was more than probable that the very name was utterly unknownto these men.

  "You wish to insult me, Pedro," he said, "and so cancel the obligationI am under to you. But beware of going too far, for you may leave abalance upon the wrong side, and I am as quick to avenge an insult asto--"

  Pedro interrupted him with a laugh.

  "What did I say? I have only just rendered you a great service--atleast, so you say--"

  "And mean."

  "And mean, perhaps; and yet you are already threatening me. When I saidthat your gratitude is said to bring bad luck to anyone, I was onlyrepeating an idle saying--as I thought--but it seems like the truth,after all."

  Hunston was moving thoughtfully away, when the brigand's words stoppedhim.

  "Forgive me, Pedro," he said, turning round; "I am a bad, ungratefulman, but I'm not utterly wanting in decent feeling. You touch me on avery sore spot."

  So saying he walked on, leaving Pedro staring after him.

  "That's a queer lot," muttered the brigand to himself, "a very queerlot. I think I would sooner have the murder of a priest on myconscience than be weighted with the deeds that he'll have to answerfor."

  Pedro was no fool.

  His observations were pretty well to the point.

  Hunston felt the pangs of remorse.

  Daily, hourly, in fact, he looked back and thought of what he was, andwhat he might have been had not his vicious propensities got the upperhand of him at the critical turn in his career.

  And so the demon remorse played havoc with him already.

  The mechanical arm was responsible for all. Its mysteriousdisorganisation had been the direct cause of his forced inactivity.

  What gives ugly thoughts such power over one as bodily inactivity?

  Nothing.

  Robert Emmerson, your vengeance is as terrible as it is unceasing inits action.

  * * * * *

  Hunston sought the widow of Mathias.

  "I have made good progress, Diana," he said, "for I have learnt enoughabout the enemy to make sure of getting some of them at least into ourpower."

  The listener's eyes glistened at the words.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes."

  "What do you propose to do, then? Tell me."

  "Harkaway has a son--a mere youth."

  "I know it."

  "Well, this boy is a dare-devil, bold and fearless lad; nothing candaunt him. He is, in fact, what his hated father was when first I knewhim, years and years ago."

  A faint and half-suppressed sigh escaped him as he uttered this.

  "What of this boy?"

  "This boy has a companion called Harry Girdwood."

  "Well."

  "Well, these two boys are to be trapped, if it be gone aboutcarefully--very carefully, mark you."

  "That can be done, of course."

  "It can--by you."

  Diana stared again at this.

  "By me?"

  "Yes."

  "How?"

  "Listen. They pay a certain respect to us--hold us in some fear, infact--and the boys, who are regular rovers, like their parents andfriends, have only permission to cruise about in their little yacht."

  "How did you learn this?"

  "From Marietta, the servant of the Harkaways."

  "Hah!"

  "Now, with care, the boys might be lured, perhaps, away from the partof the coast which they know, and let them once touch the shore out ofsight and hearing of their friends--"

  "I see, I see," ejaculated the widow of Mathias. "I can entrap them, Ibelieve. But tell me first, what is the object of securing these twoboys?"

  "The object!" ejaculated Hunston. "Why, surely that is clear enough.Let us once get hold of them, and we can make any terms we like withthe father and friends. We shall have to dictate the conditions, andHarkaway will have no choice but to accept them."

  "I see, I see," cried Diana, excitedly. "Leave the rest to me; I'llundertake to get them into our power."

  "How?"

  "No matter how; you have done your share of the business. Be mine thetask to secure the rest."

  "When?"

  "To-morrow."

  "Good!" said Hunston, gleefully, "good! I feel a presentiment of luck.I'm not superstitious, but I feel as certain now that we shallsucceed--as certain as if the boys were already in our power."

  "They shall be," returned the woman, solemnly, "they shall be. I swearit!"