Читать книгу: «Fritz to the Front, or, the Ventriloquist Scamp-Hunter», страница 6

CHAPTER XI.
A FATHER'S BRUTALITY

After the departure of Silly Sue, Fritz sunned himself until his garments were dried; then rising, he began to cast about him for something to eat.

"I don'd know better I go back mit der tavern, or not!" he mused. "I dinks dot vas an onhealthy blace, und yet I vould like somedings to ead, very bad."

Climbing to the top of the bluff, he passed the old mansion, and followed the country road for some distance, in hopes of finding an orchard or watermelon patch. And he was successful.

About a mile distant he came to a good-sized orchard, near no human habitation, and hastily made a raid on it, with the result of discovering all the luscious eating harvest apples he could carry.

Filling his pockets he made his way back to the old rookery, and sat down upon the front step to finish his meal.

"I vonder vot's pecome of der villain I kicked mit der under jaw?" he muttered.

"I t'ink I must haff dislocated 'im or I should 'a' seed him. I vonder vere der mouth off der well is, anyhow, vot dey come up t'rough. Id must pe somevere's vere der house stands, und probably hidden."

After he finished his meal on apples, he entered the old dwelling, with a view to giving it another exploration.

Passing through the lower hall, he tried each door opening off from it, but found them all locked, as before.

What they contained he could therefore not learn, except by bursting them open or unlocking them, which he had no way of doing.

Finding no success, down-stairs, he went upstairs, remembering that he had only tried the doors of part of the upper rooms, on his previous visit, the second one being the assembly chamber containing the swinging head of ill-fated Bill Budge.

He shunned this apartment now, and passed on along the corridor.

The first and second doors he tried were locked, like those below. The third door, however, was unfastened, and opening it he entered a large unfurnished apartment, containing but one window, which looked out upon the ocean.

Noticing a card tacked upon the wall, opposite the door, Fritz advanced to read what was written upon it.

But, that, he was destined never to do. Halfway across the room he got – then the floor sunk quickly beneath him, and he went down! down! down!

He had stepped upon a trap, which had evidently been prepared for occasional stragglers, and he was the unsuspecting victim, until too late to save himself.

Down! down! he went into empty space, until he struck heavily upon a hard floor, and lay for a moment in a heap, his senses partly leaving him. When he recovered consciousness, he arose to his feet. He was in utter darkness, and in a place where the air was close and stifling. What kind of a den he had fallen into he could not ascertain by looking, at least.

Later that day Mr. Granby Greyville left his handsome residence, and made his way to the bluff, accompanied by her ladyship, the countess.

There was a terrible expression of stern resolve upon his countenance, and in his grasp he carried an ugly-looking cart-whip, which looked as if it were capable of inflicting dire pain in the hands of a human brute.

Arriving at the top of the bluff, they found Grogan, the Irish delegate, seated upon the doorstep of the old house, while, lying upon the ground, in front of him, was the girl, Sue, bound, hand and foot, but none the less defiant for that fact, as was evident by the contemptuous curl of her lip, and the indignant, wicked flash of her eyes.

A little shiver went over her, though, when she saw the countess, the man she knew as her father, and the whip he carried.

"Sure, it's mesilf as cotched her," Grogan cried, as Greyville approached. "But it's the devil's own time I had at it, bedad, an' if yez don't b'lave it ye kin look at me face. Begorra! she scratched an' bit an' fit loike tha very devil's imp she is!" and the Hibernian rubbed his torn and bruised visage dolefully.

"So you're caged, are you, my young tigress?" the smuggler captain demanded, gazing down at the girl, wrathfully. "I'll see that you never break loose hereafter!"

"Ba-aa!" the girl retorted, in contempt. "I'm not afraid of you, you ruffianly wretch, if you do carry a whip. You can whip me, pound me, stamp me into the earth, but you can't intimidate me. I'll despise and defy you to the longest day I live!"

"We shall see. I've made up my mind to cease dealing mildly with you, and instead, treat you to the harshness your foolishness demands. It's time you were broken in, and I'm going to compel you to submission to my will, and to obedience, or I'm going to kill you."

"Kill, if you like – I'll still defy you. You can not make me obey a monster like you, even though you are my father! I despise you, hate you, you inhuman wretch!"

"A good flogging will bring back your affection. By the way, I understand that by way of amusing yourself you have become the consort of a Dutch detective, and by way of furthering his game, have just been to telegraph for an additional force of the devils. Now do you know what I am going to do?"

"Any one might guess; brutal cowards always carry whips!"

"Yes, I'm going to whip you within an inch of your life. Then, if you promise me to ever after obey me, and tell me where to find the money you stole from me, I will let you go. If you refuse I'll kill you, and end the trouble! Grogan, lash her securely to yonder post!"

The Irishman obeyed by raising her and roping her to a post which had been used for a hitching-post, at some remote period.

Sue's face was very pale now, and she trembled in dread of the cruel lash.

It was not the first time she had been whipped by him, and she well knew what a merciless wretch he was.

Greyville threw off his coat now, and seized the heavy whip firmly, not a tithe of pity expressed in his stern, cruel face.

"Beg, now!" he cried. "Tell me where the money is, and promise future obedience and proper conduct, or I'll give it to you!"

"Never! I'll die first!" Sue gasped.

The next instant the wretch struck her with all his might, following one blow with another, until he had struck her twenty, the last one being upon the top of the head, with the butt of the whip.

White as death was Sue, but her eyes flashed bravely, her face was defiant – but she never uttered a moan or cry of pain.

"Now —now maybe you'll come to time!" the smuggler roared, more like some enraged wild beast than a human being, in his demoniac fury. "Now, will you tell and promise?"

"Never, monster!" was the low, piteous gasp, then the eyes of the poor outcast closed; she had fainted, unable longer to endure the agony.

CHAPTER XII.
A PITIFUL END

The situation of Fritz was to him a decidedly gloomy one, as, owing to the impenetrable darkness his eyesight was of no use whatever. He did not know either, if it was safe to stir, as there might be another trap which he would fall into, and go headlong down into some other pit.

But he resolved to test the matter, and feel out the boundaries of his new prison at once.

Groping about, inch by inch, and trying the floor in front of him before trusting the weight of his body upon it, he soon came to a plastered wall, and concluded by that, that he still remained in the building, having probably only fallen to the first floor.

"Vel, dot don'd vas so pad ash I first expected," he muttered, feeling a little more assured. "I t'ought I vas goin' vay down to der blace vere dey manufacture fire-crackers. Der next question, ish der any outlet to dis brison, I vonder?"

Keeping his hands upon the wall, he walked several times around the dark apartment without pausing.

"Der ish not von door or vinder, nor hole of any kind!" he finally muttered. "I would not haff such a house for a gift."

The room indeed appeared to be barren of those accessories, as far as he was able to learn by the sense of feeling, and it would seem that it was thus purposely prepared for a prison.

"Vel, I guess I might as vel prepare to imitate der example off Doctor Tanner, und go vidout somedings to eat for forty years or so!" Fritz muttered, feeling of his stomach dolefully, for the apples had far from satisfied his appetite. "But, if possible, I must get oud off here, somehow, before Fox und der boys get here."

Just how he was to do it furnished him a serious subject to ponder on.

"Curse the girl! she's fainted!" the smuggler chief cried, pausing in his horrible work.

"Perhaps she is playing off, to escape punishment," the countess suggested, with a malicious smile. "The American mademoiselle is very deceitful!"

"Faint or no faint, she shall get all that her stubborn resistance demands!" Greyville growled, mercilessly, and he raised the whip and struck her another stinging blow.

"Stop! Strike that girl again and I'll kill you!" a voice cried, not far in their rear, and turning, they beheld a stranger rushing up, a pair of cocked revolvers in hand.

"Furies!" Greyville gasped, turning pale.

"Mon Dieu! what's to pay? Let's fly!" from the countess.

"No! we will stand our ground!" the smuggler hissed.

The new-comer soon stood before them, with stern, accusing gaze, and a face flushed from his run.

"Devils!" he cried, "what is the meaning of this brutal scene? Explain instantly."

It was the Leadville speculator, Thornton, who spoke, and there was grim business expressed in his tone.

"What right have you to intrude in what is none of your business?" Greyville demanded, sourly.

"Eh! I'll show you, you brutal puppy! Don't give me any of your lip, or I'll blow your brains out. Why, cuss my boots, you're as bad as the Dog Injuns on the frontier!"

"I presume I've a right to chastise my own child, sir, when her conduct deserves it!"

"That's not your child, Garry Gregg! I know you. You are the wretch I have been longing to meet these ten years!"

"You know me?" the smuggler cried, in amazement.

"Ay! I know you!" the Westerner cried. "You are the worthless devil who trapped Minnie Gray into a secret marriage years ago, and after living with her a couple of years, and abusing her, left her in poverty, to live with a woman you had previously married."

"And incurred your enmity by winning your sweetheart away from you!" Gregg sneered, mockingly.

"Be that as it may, you are responsible for a good woman's death, and you shall answer for it. Tell me, sir – is this poor child you have been beating, the daughter of Minnie Gray?"

"If you like, yes."

"Then, curse you, leave this spot at once, if you don't want me to shoot you down. I'll take care you never strike her again! Go! I say, or I'll kill you without hesitation!"

There was a stern glare in the speculator's eyes that betokened danger, and, accompanied by the countess and Grogan, the smuggler chief hurried away.

As soon as they had gone, Mr. Thornton cut the bonds that held Silly Sue to the post, and laid her tenderly down upon the soft grass.

Hurrying down to the beach, he procured some water in his hat, and returning, dashed it in her face.

But although he did this, and chafed her hands and wrists, she did not open her eyes. Her breath came in stifled gasps, and her heart beat slowly.

"By Heaven! I believe they have killed her!" Mr. Thornton muttered, feelings of terrible rage swelling within him. "The equal of this brutality is seldom, even among the red devils on the frontier. Ah! Garry Gregg, if this poor child dies, you shall pay bitterly for her life, or my name is not Thornton!"

He continued faithfully in his endeavors to bring her back to consciousness, but all to no avail.

While he was thus engaged there came sounds of rapid footsteps, and Hal Hartly dashed up, flushed and excited.

"Great Heaven! what is the matter with Susie?" he demanded, on seeing her lying on the ground, so cold and white.

"I fear she is dying, young man," Mr. Thornton replied, solemnly. "I can not restore her to consciousness. Was she anything to you, sir?"

"Indeed, yes; she was all the world to me, poor child, and we were to be married, one of these days!" Hartly replied, kneeling beside her, with tears in his eyes. "Susie! oh! Susie, my little waif, can't you look up and speak to me?"

The girl slowly opened her eyes, and gazed up at him, with a loving smile.

"Yes, Hal, I know. I am dying, Hal. Where is Fritz?"

"I don't know, darling. I have not seen him since morning."

"Well, when you see him, tell him I sent the message, and got an answer that the detectives would come."

"The detectives?"

"Yes. I went for him, to telegraph for them, and he gave me five dollars. It is in my pocket, Hal – you can have it, to get me a little, plain stone for my grave."

"But, Susie, you can't be dying – tell me what is the matter?"

"She has been cruelly beaten. I came here a few moments ago and drove off the devils, but I fear I came too late!" Mr. Thornton explained, sadly.

"It was papa, you know!" Sue added, as Hartly uttered a cry of astonishment. "He discovered the errand I had done, and had a big Irishman capture me and bring me here. Then he and the countess came, and I was tied to a stake and whipped till I fainted. They have killed me, I guess. I feel as if I am filling up inside, and something tells me I shall soon die. I hate to leave you, Hal, but I am not afraid to die. I have always said my prayers, loved the Lord, and been honest, and I know He will receive me."

The girl's childish faith and simplicity touched Mr. Thornton as well as young Hartly, and tears flowed freely.

The little outcast soon closed her eyes again, her arms about Hartly's neck, as she rested in his embrace, and a peaceful expression of contentment upon her face.

About sunset she spoke, without opening her eyes.

"Hal!" she said, softly.

"Yes, Susie," he replied; "what do you wish?"

"Not much. After I am gone burn the old house yonder, and break up the smugglers."

"Yes, Susie."

"And you'll be a good man, Hal, all your life, so you will join me in heaven?"

"I will try, dearest."

"Then kiss me good-by."

Convulsed with sobs, the grief-stricken lover obeyed, and, just as the last rays of sunset began to fade, Susie breathed her last, expiring without the least appearance of pain, and a faint, peaceful smile upon her lips.

For some moments after her death neither Hartly nor Mr. Thornton spoke, but finally the latter said:

"She has gone where she will know no more suffering or sorrow and it is perhaps better so. Is your home near by?"

"I live in a sort of hut back in the woods, and if you will lend a hand we will take her there."

The speculator assented, and Hartly procured a wide board, and laid the limp form upon it. Then raising the primitive litter between them, they left the bluff and took to the lonely country road, which they followed until they came to a rude shanty, standing in the edge of the woods. They bore their burden into the only room and deposited it upon a couple of stools.

Hartly then turned to Mr. Thornton.

"You are a stranger to us, sir," he said, "but would you kindly remain here until I can go to a neighboring town and make arrangements for her burial?"

"Certainly, my boy."

"Then I will go and send the undertakers at once to take charge of the remains. If I do not return with the undertakers, let them remove the body, and I will see you later, perhaps."

He then kissed the lips and forehead of the dead girl, and took his departure.

Once outside, his whole demeanor underwent a change.

His face became stern and hard in its expression, and his eyes gleamed with a wild light that could hardly have been pronounced sane.

"First the house!" he muttered, between his clinched teeth; "then I will see to the burial. After that revenge!" – words uttered with a power of feeling, which bespoke grim resolution.

Hurrying back to the bluff he entered the building, and from the pantry brought an oil-can and poured oil about in a number of different places, applying a lighted match to each.

As a result, bright sheets of flame sprung up, and, in less time almost than it takes to tell it, the interior of the old rookery was on fire in several places.

Then, with a wild laugh, he turned and fled from the building, and disappeared from the vicinity of the bluff.

The old house was doomed.

And in the doorless, windowless trap-room, where he had so unexpectedly become imprisoned, was Fritz, in the most unenviable situation one could well conceive.

Captain Gregg, as we shall henceforth call him, learned of Silly Sue's death shortly after it occurred through the Irishman, who, while pretending to leave the spot, had scouted around, and lurked in the vicinity until Hartly and Mr. Thornton had departed with the body.

Gregg was both alarmed and surprised when he heard the news, and immediately sought the countess for consultation.

He had no idea he had done the girl any fatal bodily injury. If she was dead, and the cause of her death came to be known, he well knew that he would be called upon to answer to the law.

The countess listened to his recital of Grogan's report, the lines in her thin face growing even harder than were their wont.

"I feared zis," she said. "You were ver' mooch savage!"

"What do you advise?"

"Zat we remain where we be for ze present. You say zis stranger be an old enemy of yours?"

"Yes. Doubly so now, from a fact that he is the father of Grif's prisoner, that's locked up in the dungeon."

"Humph! zis is bad! Vare be ze Dutchman?"

"There is no telling. Perhaps Griffith will know when he comes."

But Griffith did not come.

It was nearly dark in the outer world when he recovered from the terrible blow he had got from Fritz's pistol in the cave, and staggered to the inner cavern.

The moment he entered it a smell of burning timbers greeted his nostrils.

"By Heaven! the house above is burning up, I believe!" he cried, rushing to the rope ladder and beginning to climb it rapidly.

But he had only got a few feet up when it gave way, and he fell to the ground, considerably bruised.

"The devil's to pay now!" he muttered, angrily. "A fellow will smother down here."

For a moment the young villain stood irresolute – then he approached the door of Madge Thornton's cell.

"Madge!" he called.

There was no answer.

"Madge!" he shouted, in a louder tone, at the same time rattling the door, savagely.

"Well, what do you want?" she demanded, rising from her cot.

"I want to know if you want to escape from this place alive?"

"Why, what is the matter?"

"Matter enough! The old house above is burning down, and if you don't want to suffocate you must leave this place at once, with me."

"Well, why don't you open the door, then?"

He was unlocking the great padlock even as he spoke.

"I am perfectly willing to do so, and when you reveal to me the hiding-place of your father's money, which you had, when you left Leadville, you are free to go," he said, standing the doorway.

"Are you foolish enough to suppose for one moment, that I will reveal that?"

"If you don't do it, curse you, I will leave you here to suffocate!"

"Do so! I would cheerfully pay that penalty of my folly in ever having anything to do with you, a hundred times, rather than submit to your demands."

"Then – but no! I'll release you if you'll give me half of the sum."

"Not a cent, you detestable wretch."

"Curses on your obstinacy! You have refused to do what is right, and you shall take the the consequences."

Stepping back he reclosed the door angrily, and hastily relocked the padlock; then he left the main chamber, for the outer one, and jumped into the boat.

The tide was now on the ebb, and the water was now down so that he could row out of the hole into the ocean.

As soon as he got out a grand sight met his gaze.

The old house on top of the bluff was in a sheet of lurid flame, lighting up the early evening, which otherwise was quite dark.

Showers of sparks ascended toward the heavens, and the crackling of the dancing blaze made weird music.

Pulling in to shore, Griffith Gregg leaped from the boat, and clambered up the side of the bluff.

The first man he met was Thornton of Leadville, who had fastened up the hut, and hurried to the scene of the conflagration, as soon as he had discovered the light.

The recognition was mutual, and each uttered a cry.

"At last!" the speculator cried, and he bounded forward, and seized his enemy by the throat. Gregg clinched with him, and the two men rolled to the ground, in a fierce struggle, the lurid light of the burning building lighting up the scene like unto the colored fire to some wild exciting drama.