bayard and his cousins squeezed themselves through the hole in the door, one after the other, all of them revolving in their minds some tantalizing remarks they intended to address to chase and wilson when they saw them; and the surprise and bewilderment they exhibited when they found the room empty, were quite equal to pierre’s. the latter, after looking all about the apartment to make sure that the boys were not there, lighted a candle, threw open the trap-door, and dived into the cellar, where he spent some time in overturning the boxes and barrels that were stowed around the walls; and when he came out again the expression his face wore was a sufficient indication that his search had been fruitless.
“now, see here,” said he, looking savagely at bayard; “what sort of a story is this you have been telling me?”
[231]
“i told you the truth,” replied the boy, retreating hastily toward the door as pierre advanced upon him. “wilson was certainly in this room, because we all saw him when he made an attempt to climb out of that hole in the loft. look around a little. he’s here, i know he is.”
pierre, who believed that bayard was trying to mislead him for some purpose of his own, and who had been on the point of giving him a good shaking with a view of forcing the real facts of the case out of him, looked toward the other boys for a confirmation of this story. seth and will loudly protested that their cousin had told the truth, and nothing but the truth, and pierre, being in some measure convinced by their earnestness, lifted the table from the floor, and after pushing it against the wall to enable it to retain an upright position, placed his candle upon it, and set to work to give the apartment a thorough overhauling.
“if they were in the room when i reached the house, they must be here now,” said he, “for there is no way for them to get out except through the door and that hole in the loft. move everything, and we’ll find them.”
suiting the action to the word, pierre seized one[232] of the beds, and pulled it into the middle of the floor, and there, snugly hidden behind a pile of saddles, old blankets, boots, hats, boxes, and a variety of other articles that had been thrown under the couch for safekeeping, was henry chase. pierre had looked under that same bed when he first came in; but as it was dark in the room—there being no windows in the house—and his examination had been hastily made, chase had escaped his observation.
“here’s one of them!” exclaimed pierre, seizing the fugitive by the collar and lifting him to his feet.
“what did we tell you?” cried bayard. “are you satisfied now that we knew what we were talking about?”
“where’s the other fellow—what’s his name?” demanded pierre.
“wilson,” suggested seth.
“i’m sure i don’t know where he is,” answered chase, and he told the truth. just before he dived under the bed, he saw wilson running frantically about the room as if he did not know which way to turn, but where he went, chase had not the remotest[233] idea. “and if i did know i wouldn’t tell you,” he added, boldly.
“you do know,” exclaimed bayard. “he was in this room with you not five minutes ago.”
“i don’t deny that, but still i don’t know where he is. o, you may strike me, if you feel so inclined,” added chase, as pierre drew back his clenched hand, “but i can’t tell you a thing i don’t know, can i?”
“bring me something to tie him with,” said pierre, turning to bayard; “one of those bridles will do. we’ll make sure of him, now that we have got him, and then look for the other.”
bayard brought the bridle with alacrity, and even assisted in confining chase’s arms, the latter submitting to the operation without even a show of resistance. pierre used more than usual care in making the straps fast, and when he had bound the boy so tightly that he could scarcely move a finger, he pulled a chair into the middle of the room and pushed him into it. his short experience with his prisoner had convinced him that he was a very slippery fellow, and he thought it best to have him where he could keep his eyes upon him.
as soon as chase had been disposed of, the[234] search for wilson was renewed, bayard and his cousins lending willing aid. they began by examining every nook and corner of the cellar, and not finding him there, they returned to the room above and pulled the beds to pieces, explored the loft, and looked into all sorts of impossible places, even peering under chairs, and taking out the bureau drawers; and finally, one after another, they made a journey to the fire-place and looked up the chimney. but they could see nothing there. there was a fire on the hearth, and the smoke ascended in such volumes that it speedily filled their eyes and nostrils, and they were glad to draw back into the room for a breath of fresh air. chase sat in his chair watching all their movements with the deepest interest. his friend’s sudden and mysterious disappearance astonished and perplexed him as much as it did anybody; but he exulted over it, while pierre and his young assistants seemed to be very much dismayed, especially the former. after the house had been thoroughly searched (even the apartment across the hall was examined, although there was not the least probability that wilson could have got into it), pierre walked once or twice across the room, and then taking down a[235] hunting-horn from its nail over the fire-place, went to the door and blew it as if he meant that it should be heard by everybody for ten miles around. when he came back he addressed himself rather sternly to bayard.
“now, then, clear out,” said he. “be off at once, and never let me see your face again.”
“what are you going to do with chase, and what were you blowing that horn for?” asked bayard, who thought it might be policy to learn something of pierre’s plans before he left him.
“that’s my own business,” was the gruff reply. “do you see that hole in the wall? it was left there for folks to go out of, and i advise you to make use of it.”
pierre pointed toward the door, and bayard, judging by the expression of his countenance that it would be a dangerous piece of business to irritate him by refusing to comply with his wishes, sprang out into the hall, followed by his cousins.
“that’s the return we get for doing him a favor,” said he, as he led the way toward the place where their horses were tied. “however, i don’t mind it much, for chase is captured again, and if we can only secure wilson we are all right.[236] as he is not in the house, it follows as a thing of course that he must be out of it; although how he got out is a mystery to me. he has taken to the woods, most likely, and if we start after him at once we can catch him.”
bayard and his cousins mounted their horses and rode off at a gallop. pierre watched them until they were out of sight, and then went into the house and renewed his search for wilson, which he kept up until he was interrupted by a hasty step in the hall, and coulte appeared and looked through the broken door. he had heard the sound of the hunting-horn, and knowing from the peculiar manner in which it was blown, that there was something unusual going on at the house, he had hurried back to see what was the matter. a single glance at the inside of the room and at his son’s face, was enough to tell him that the latter had some exciting news to communicate.
“oh! whew! somedings is going wrong again!” he exclaimed, in a frightened tone.
pierre replied that there were a good many things going wrong, and in a few hurried words made him acquainted with all that had happened in the house during the last fifteen minutes, adding a piece of[237] information and prediction that greatly alarmed coulte, namely: that wilson had again escaped, and that in less than an hour he would return to the clearing with an army of settlers at his heels. the old frenchman listened eagerly to his son’s story, only interrupting him with long-drawn whistles, which were loud and frequent, and when it was finished declared that it was necessary to make a change in their plans—that, instead of waiting until night to begin the voyage to lost island, they must begin it at once. they would sail down the bayou into the swamp, conceal themselves there until dark, and then continue their journey. what they would do after they had disposed of their prisoner, coulte said he did not know; but of one thing he was satisfied, and that was, that they could not return to the settlement to sell their property, as they had intended to do. they had worked hard for it, but they must give it up now, for it would probably be confiscated when the authorities learned that he and his sons belonged to the smugglers. this thought seemed to drive the old frenchman to the verge of distraction. he paced up and down the floor with his beloved pipe tightly clenched between his teeth, swinging his arms wildly about his[238] head, talking loudly, sometimes in english and sometimes in french, and declaring, over and over again, that this was the most magnificent scrape he had ever got into.
“well, i can’t help it,” grumbled pierre. “you know that i didn’t want to have anything to do with it in the first place. i told you just how it would end, and now there is no use in wasting words over it. let’s be moving, for as long as we stay here we’re in danger.”
pierre bustled out of the room, and presently returned with an axe, a side of meat, a small bag of corn-meal, and a couple of old blankets, which he deposited in the hall. he then approached the prisoner and remarked, as he began untying his arms—
“as those things are intended for you, you can take them down to the boat yourself. have you a flint and steel?”
“i have,” replied chase. “is that all you are going to give me for an outfit?”
“of course, and you may be glad to get it, too. what more do you want? there’s grub enough to last you a week, blankets to keep you warm of[239] nights, and an axe to build your camp and cut fire-wood.”
“why, i want a gun and some ammunition. how am i going to get anything to eat after that bread and meat are gone?”
“trap it, that’s the way. your own gun is on board the schooner; we’ve got none here to give you, and besides, you don’t need one, and shan’t have it. shoulder those things and come along; and mind you, now, no tricks.”
chase picked up his outfit and followed his captors, who, after loading themselves with various articles, which they thought they might need during the voyage, led the way across the clearing at a rapid walk, keeping a bright lookout on all sides to make sure that there was no one observing their movements.
about ten minutes after they left the house, an incident happened there that would have greatly astonished pierre and his father, could they have witnessed it. at one side of the room in which happened the events that we have just attempted to describe, was an immense fire-place. the lower part of it was built of logs and lined with mud, which had been baked until it was as hard as a[240] rock. the upper part—that is, the chimney—was built of sticks, and was also plastered with mud, both inside and out. as the chimney had been standing nearly ten years it was in a very dilapidated state, and leaned away from the house as though it meant to fall over every moment. near the top were several holes which had been made by the sticks burning out and falling into the fire-place; and had coulte and his son thought to look up at the chimney when they left the house, they would have found that some of these holes were filled with objects they had never seen there before. one of them looked very much like the toe of a heavy boot; and at another opening, about five feet nearer the top, was something that might have been taken for a black hat with three holes cut in it. but it was not a black hat; it was something else.
shortly after chase and his captors had disappeared in the woods, this dilapidated structure began to rock and groan in the most alarming manner. huge cakes of mud fell down into the fire, and had there been any one in the room at the time he would have said that there was some heavy body working its way down the chimney. presently[241] a pair of boots appeared below the mouth of the fire-place, then a portion of a pair of trowsers, next the skirts of an overcoat, and at last a human figure dropped down among the smouldering coals, and with one jump reached the middle of the floor, where it stood stamping its feet to shake off the sparks of fire that clung to them, pounding its clothes, scattering a cloud of soot about the room, and gasping for breath. it was leonard wilson, but he did not look much like the neatly-dressed young fellow who had entered that room but a short half-hour before.
when wilson found that pierre had returned, the first place he thought of was the chimney, which he believed offered the best chances for concealment. he did not like to enter it, for there was considerable wood on the hearth; it was all in a blaze, and he was afraid to trust himself among the flames; but when he heard the door groaning under the furious blows of the axe, he knew that he had no alternative—he must brave the flames or submit to capture. he saw chase dive under the bed, and after waiting a moment to screw up his courage, he bounded lightly across the floor and sprang into the fire-place. he did not linger there[242] an instant—if he had, he must have been burned or suffocated, for the flames leaped around his high top-boots, and the smoke ascended so thick and fast that it was impossible to obtain even the smallest breath of air—but mounted at once into the chimney, and placing his back against one side and his knees against the other, quickly worked his way as near the top as his broad shoulders would allow him to go. as it happened there were two holes about half way up the chimney, which were just large enough to admit the toes of his boots; and by forcing a foot into each, and placing his face to another opening nearer the top, he was able to hold his position without the outlay of a great deal of strength, and to obtain all the fresh air he needed. the flimsy old chimney swayed like a tree in a gale of wind as he was ascending it, and threatened to topple over with him every instant; but it maintained its upright position in spite of his additional weight, and afforded him as perfect a concealment as he could have asked for. but, for all that, he was glad when he saw coulte and his son disappear in the woods, and felt still more at his ease when he found himself safe out of his[243] smoky hiding-place, and standing in the middle of the room.
“another close shave,” panted wilson, pulling out his handkerchief and clearing his eyes of the dust and soot. “i put myself in danger for nothing, for chase is still a prisoner. i know what i shall do now: i’ll go straight to walter gaylord and tell him everything that has happened. perhaps he won’t be very glad to see me after all the mean things i have been guilty of, but i can’t help it.”
wilson’s unexpected appearance.
wilson pulled off his overcoat and thumped it energetically, beat his slouch hat on the table, wiped his face with his handkerchief, and having thus made a little improvement in his personal appearance, he hurried out into the hall to look for his gun, which he had laid at the foot of the ladder before entering the room. he did not expect to recover it, and consequently was not much disappointed when he found that it was gone. knowing that coulte or pierre had taken charge of the weapon, he did not waste time in looking for it. he stopped long enough to shake his fist at the woods where the two men had disappeared, and to utter the fervent hope that the thief would be knocked heels overhead by the gun the first time[244] he fired it; and then jumping down the steps drew a bee-line across the clearing toward the canebrake where he had left his horse. he carried his coats on his arm, ready to drop them and put himself in light running order in case he saw pierre or bayard bell and his cousins approaching; and not until he reached the cover of the woods did he regard his escape as accomplished. he found the horses near the place where he had camped the night before, and when he had saddled and bridled both of them, he mounted his own steed and rode off at a gallop, followed by chase’s nag, which kept close behind. taking the shortest course to mr. gaylord’s house, which lay through the thickest part of the woods, he went at a break-neck pace, leaping his horse over logs and fences, dashing through thickets of briers and cane that seemed almost impassable, and came at last to the bayou on the banks of which he had halted with his companions the day before to eat his lunch. as he turned down the stream toward the ford, his attention was attracted by a commotion in the bushes on the opposite shore, and in a few seconds walter gaylord and phil perkins dashed into view. they pulled up their horses when they discovered wilson, and after gazing at[245] his black face and hands for a moment, perk called out:
“now just listen to me and i’ll ask you a question; have you turned chimney-sweep?”
“no,” replied wilson. “i’ve been in a chimney; but i didn’t stop to sweep it out. i’d like to talk to you fellows a few minutes.” he had been impatient to find walter and his friends, but now that he was in their presence he wished that the interview might have been postponed a little longer. he did not feel at all uneasy concerning the reception he was likely to meet at their hands, for he knew that they were young gentlemen, and above taking a cowardly revenge on any one; but he was ashamed of the manner in which he had conducted himself toward them, and did not want to be obliged to look them in the face.
“well, here we are,” replied walter. “what have you got to tell us? have you seen anything of featherweight?”
“no—that is—yes; i have heard of him. i have a long story to tell you, and there are some things in it that will astonish you. i hope you don’t bear me any ill will for what happened yesterday,[246] and for the other mean tricks i have done you?”
“no, we don’t,” replied walter readily.
“now i’ll just tell you what’s a fact,” chimed in perk; “we’ve got nothing against you or any of your crowd; and if you will only be friendly with us, we’ll meet your advances half way.”
the boys turned their horses’ heads down the stream, and when they reached the ford walter and perk crossed over to wilson’s side, and, to show that they meant all they had said, shook hands with him as heartily as though they had always been on the most friendly terms. their manner put wilson at his ease at once; and without any preliminary words he began and told the story of the adventures that had befallen him during the last twenty-four hours. to repeat what he said would be to write a good portion of “the sportsman’s club in the saddle” over again. he did not know where featherweight was, for he had not seen him; and neither could he tell what had happened to chase, for during the short time that they were besieged in coulte’s house, he had not been allowed an opportunity to talk to him; but he remembered the hint his companion had given him of[247] featherweight’s condition, and repeated his words to walter and perk.
“i have not the least idea where you ought to go to find fred,” said wilson, in conclusion; “but this much i do know—that he is in a terrible scrape, and that he is on board some vessel. chase knows all about him, for he has seen him and talked with him. now, my advice, if you will allow me to offer it, is this: assist me in rescuing chase, and he will tell you where to find fred craven; and, more than that, he and i will stand by you through thick and thin, and do all we can to help you. what do you say?”
walter and perk did not say anything immediately, for they were so astonished at the story they had heard that it was a long time before they could speak. they could hardly believe it possible that all the events that wilson had described had taken place in their immediate neighborhood, and that, too, without their knowledge; and they would have been still more amazed if they had known that only a part of the story had been told them. what would they have thought if they had known that mr. bell was the leader of the smugglers of whom walter had read in the paper the day before;[248] that his vessel was hidden in a little cove not more than two miles from the place where they were then standing; that featherweight was stowed away in the hold, waiting to be carried to cuba; and that when he arrived there he was to be shipped as a foremast hand on board a strange vessel and sent off to mexico?
“isn’t it the strangest thing in the world that chase should have been mistaken for me?” cried walter, as soon as he could speak. “of course we’ll stand by him. how shall we go to work? suggest something, one of you.”
“now, just listen to me a minute and i’ll tell you what i would do,” exclaimed perk. “wilson, you said that coulte is going to take chase down the bayou in the pirogue, didn’t you? well, let’s go home and get the banner, and be ready to catch him when he comes out.”
“perhaps he wouldn’t stop when we told him to,” said wilson.
“we’d make him. we’d run over the pirogue and sink her. he’d stop then, wouldn’t he?”
“but we’d waste too much time in following that course,” said walter. “we’re six miles from home, and it would take two hours to go there and[249] get the banner under way. by that time it would be pitch dark. it is forty miles to the village, and ten more along the coast to the bayou, so that we would have to run fifty miles while the pirogue was running about one fifth as far. another thing,” added walter, looking up at the clouds, “it’s going to be a bad night, and i don’t care to trust my yacht outside in a gale.”
walter was in earnest when he said this, and it would have been hard work for any one to have made him believe that he was destined to spend, not only the greater portion of that night, but the whole of the succeeding week on the gulf, while the wind was blowing, the sleet flying, and the waves running as high as his mast-head. but he did it.
“i think the best plan would be,” he continued, “to ride at once for the bayou and cut a tree across it—you know that the stream is very narrow for a long distance above its mouth—so that coulte can’t sail out with the pirogue. if we can keep him in the swamp until morning, we can get help and capture him. what do you think of that, wilson?”
“i like your plan the best,” was the reply.[250] “we need not go a step out of our way for an axe, for we can get one at coulte’s house.”
while the boys were discussing the matter, the clear, ringing blast of a hunting-horn echoed through the woods. perk sounded his own horn in reply, and presently eugene and bab galloped up. their appearance was most opportune, and saved walter the trouble of riding in search of them. they were surprised to see wilson—they were obliged to take two looks at him before they recognised him—and eugene at first scowled at him, and acted very much as though he would like to settle up some of the little accounts he held against him; but when walter, after telling him that he had brought news of featherweight, repeated the story of his adventures, and described the plan they had just decided upon, eugene changed his mind, and extended a most cordial greeting to wilson, in which he was joined by bab.
of course there were a thousand and one questions to be asked and answered, and during the ride to the bayou the club kept wilson talking continually. they compelled him to tell his story over and over again, and each time expressed their astonishment and indignation in no measured terms.[251] they all gave it as their opinion that featherweight had somehow managed to fall into the hands of the smugglers, and that he was detained by them: but, of course, they could not determine upon any plans for his release until they knew where he was confined, and that could not be ascertained until they had rescued chase.
in half an hour the boys reached coulte’s plantation, and after reconnoitering the premises to make sure that none of the family had returned, they dismounted in front of the porch and went into the house to secure the axe, and to look at the room in which chase and wilson had been besieged. everything in and about the apartment—the shattered door, the hole in the floor of the loft, the broken furniture, the empty shelves in the cupboard, and the huge cakes of mud in the fire-place, which wilson had knocked off while he was coming out of the chimney, bore testimony to the truthfulness of his story. the members of the club were interested in everything they saw, and would have overwhelmed wilson with questions, had not walter reminded them that the longer they lingered, the longer they would be separated from featherweight. the mention of the secretary’s name brought[252] them to their saddles again; and in a few minutes more they had left the old frenchman’s house behind them, and were galloping through the woods toward the bayou.
