The Argosy, Volume XLIV — page 331: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

DEALT IN THE DARK. His words ended in a shriek, and he foamed at the mouth. “Find Ethel Fanshaw!” cried Field- ing. “Find her for me unharmed, and if you were the devil himself I will stand between you and your deserts! ” ~ “Twill! Iwill!” “Where is she? ” “On my yacht!” “On your yacht! To the torture with you! Curse you, I said un- harmed! ” “You shall hear it from her own lips!” “Where is the yacht ?” “ At her moorings, within rifle-shot of here.” “Form up, men! If he has spoken the truth the law shall deal with him; if he has lied, he goes to the savages! Shall it be so?” The men had caught Fielding’s ex- citement. They shouted assent, and the whole party set off under the guidance of one of the prisoners. But Spurzheim was so weak that he had to he carried. It was apparent that no movement of the group had escaped the watchful eye of the hidden islanders,for a shout instantly went up, and several arrows elattered upon the stones. Wessel turned and fired, the others following his example, also the gun on the schooner pitched a shell among the rocks. The islanders were taken aback, but they rallied and came on in a noisy rush against a fire that dropped them in twos and threes. So, halting at times to check their pursuers, and running from cover to cover, the party reached the land- locked cove in which the yacht of Spurzheim lay concealed. CHAPTER XXIX. QUEEN OF THE REDS. Tue yacht was boarded before the watch on deck realized that Spurzheim and his companions were prisoners. None too soon, however, for the sound of the firing, together with the yells of the savages, had given rise to the ‘gravest alarm, and steam was already being made. ° Go ugle 327 Utterly cowed by the show of force, they yielded to the inevitable, and, ta- king their orders from Plasted, started the engines and moved seaward. Meanwhile F ielding entered the cabin, which wae sumptuously finished and furnished and dimly lighted by swinging lamps. The door of a stateroom opened, and he was confronted by a woman. No sooner did she recognize him than she turned white and sank back against the wainscot. It was Amelia Hoff. Her lips moved vainly—speech was paralyzed. “ Where is she?” demanded Field- ing. The queen of the Reds shuddered and recovered herself. “ Hush! She sleeps.” The Rough Rider brushed past her. By the feeble light of a night-lamp he beheld the form of Ethel Fanshaw. So pallid she was that his heart stopped heating with the thought that she was dead, but the silken coverlid rose gently upon her bosom, and his blood flushed back again. The girl was a mere shadow of her former self; it wanted not the vials upon the swinging shelf at the head of the couch to announce to him that she had suffered a terrible illness, and that her soul had been so near release that it still shone through the transparent whiteness of her face. That her sleep was natural he was assured, and both his instinct and his experience told him that a great deal depended upon its unbroken duration. The motion of the vessel announced to him that they were under wav. Amelia Hoff motioned him to follow her. Ata discrect distance she stopped. “To you know me?” she asked. “You -are Amelia Hoff,” he an- swered, for he had guessed as much. “ You owe me a great deal,” she said. “But if I have practised against your life, I have made some amends. Had it not been for me the girl you love would have died.” “Tell me about her,” he demanded. The reckoning he had with the An- archist faded into insignificance in the face of this other matter. Thus bidden, and further informed