A Fortune Hunter Or The Old Stone Corral Part 19

Chapter XVI.

"Oh! they were murdered by the wild hunter,--and this is all that remains to tell the fate of our father's friends," cried Maud, tearfully. "But do you think, Clifford--" She paused a moment, leaving her question unfinished; then, springing to her feet in wildest excitement, she exclaimed:--

"We have been blind--blind! but it is all clear now!" and as Rob stood by, dumb with astonishment, she said, in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, while she wrung her hands in the intensity of her great emotion: "Bruce's daughter--Morelia--Mora!"

"Yes, yes! I have suspected it since the day father called her Ivarene.

I always felt, from the moment that we met, as though I had known her all my life. There seemed to be a look of recognition beaming from the eyes of Mora Estill that has haunted me for months. My G.o.d! is it possible I have only known her three short weeks? it seems like an eternity," said Clifford, in a musing tone, while Rob exclaimed, hurriedly:--

"That mad hunter was Olin Estill; and it was he who must have stolen Mora at the cavern from Ivarene, and left her at the Estill Ranch before he met his tragic fate. His is the haunted, lonesome grave on the hill-top, of which Mora spoke."

"But, oh, what a terrible retribution!--his limbs torn away by wrangling wolves, and his grinning skull left bleaching on the wild prairie," said Maud, tearfully. "Dear Bruce and Ivarene," she continued, with a sob--"must their history end in silence and oblivion?"

"Do you think, Maud, that the hunter, with all the devilish cunning of madness, could have crept back and poisoned them, and then stolen the child?"

"Ah! it is too sad to contemplate," she replied. "Their fate would have been worse than death; for I now remember having read how ill-starred Carlotta, Maximilian's unhappy empress, was poisoned by some terrible Mexican drug, and all the world knows of her hopeless madness, which will last until death."

"I shudder to think who that gray-robed, ghastly creature, with its tangled locks and gla.s.sy eyes, may be," said Clifford, hoa.r.s.e with emotion.

"Not Bruce! Oh no, no! it can not be! Oh G.o.d! what a fate!" cried Maud, with another flood of tears, as she thought of the hideous contrast with the smiling, handsome lover in the flower-entwined balcony of Monteluma.

"I will go and take a more extended search up at that cavern," said Clifford. "It may be possible to make some more discoveries. But let us keep this matter secret, and when our parents are willing to give us their confidence, then we will divulge it, but not before," to which the others agreed; and while Maud was still cautioning him to be very careful of danger, our young hero rode up by his dwelling, then galloped rapidly along the winding pathway to the cliff where the cavern was concealed.

Alighting, and securing his horse to a low plum-tree in the thicket, he went to the door of the cell, and, finding all as he had left it, began searching the room critically.

He was reasoning in his mind the probabilities of finding the treasure, which the letter of the hunter led him to suspect was hidden near; for he had got a very clear glimpse of that villain's nature, when he read the part that was crossed out after he had written: "The fewer to share, the greater the gain."

Clifford felt certain that Olin Estill had remained with the treasure after he had induced his confederate in crime, Eagle Beak (who was, no doubt, an Indian chief), to decoy the Indians away to p.a.w.nee Rock. The wretch must have decided to poison Eagle Beak when he marked the letter over, and no doubt he had suppressed the fact of the wine being drugged, so that his confederate would also drink of the liquor.

"Eagle Beak must have been a white man, disguised as an Indian, or he would never have been able to read," thought Clifford; but as he knew a great many half-breeds had become prominent Indian chiefs, he reconciled this fact with the position which that marauder held. Allowing such to have been the case, young Warlow knew that he could have been no match in cunning deviltry for the educated scoundrel, Estill; so he must certainly have fallen into the diabolical trap which the latter villain had laid for him, and, with all his Indians, he had drunk himself to madness and death from the flasks and jugs of drugged and poisoned liquor. They had all shared a common fate long before reaching that towering and legendary land-mark of p.a.w.nee Rock. All the actors in that dire tragedy had met with such swift retribution that no one was left, in a few days after the robbery, to care for the great treasure.

"Yes; the mighty fortune of Monteluma, its red gold and gleaming gems, is hidden away near by, only waiting to be restored to their rightful heir, Mora Estill," said Clifford aloud, as he clenched his hand, and the blood surged to his face in a crimson glow.

The gold, he believed, had been hastily buried near the Stone Corral by the leaders while the savages were stupefied with liquor; but the casket of gems, our hero believed, was concealed in the cavern; so it was with a wildly beating heart that our young friend began searching the mouldy pallet of straw, but nothing rewarded his scrutiny.

He had provided himself with a large dirk-knife, which his father had carried in the turbulent mining days, and with the heavy metal handle of the weapon Clifford proceeded to sound the walls of the cavern; but no hollow echo replied, to betray the cavity which he hoped to discover.

The fire-place, chimney, and the ceiling, also were subjected to the same scrutiny, but with no better result. Then he began near the door, and sounded the solid floor until he arrived at the old couch; but the stone seemed to be a solid sheet of limestone, on which the hilt of the weapon rang with a clear, metallic clang, resonant but disheartening.

Hastily removing the old mattress, young Warlow resumed his explorations; and as he vainly searched the floor his heart sank like lead, and he paused to wipe the cold sweat from his face before finishing the last remaining spot in one corner. A feeling of dread and apprehension overcame him, and he shrank from the ordeal. Hope deferred began to dampen the enthusiasm of our young "Fortune Hunter," and he could scarcely summon his courage to the final test of searching that one remaining spot; but, drawing a long sigh, he resumed the operation, and the very first blow caused his brain to reel and the blood to bound madly in his veins; for the hollow sound which the blow elicited proved that the hidden cavity was reached at last.

The bottom of the cavern was thickly incrusted with filth and damp earth at that place; but he dug with frantic energy, and soon the dim outline of a square flag-stone was visible. Breathless and panting, young Warlow pried at the stone, and as it slowly arose he closed his eyes, as if fearing to glance down into the cavity below.

"Ah, if this is the casket of gems, Mora will be the greatest heiress in all the land, and the gulf which the riches of the cattle-king made between myself and her will only be widened by this great wealth,"

Clifford thought; and he now, for the first time, regretted having come out on a search which might lead to his life-long misery.

For one moment the tempter whispered in his ear; but quickly the Warlow honor triumphed, and he looked down resolutely into the cavity.

Yes! there was the casket, and beside it a roll of papers.

Fate had been fickle and cold so long; but now, when her smile was worse than a frown, she could easily relent.

Catching up the papers and casket, he sprang across the room to the door with a hoa.r.s.e cry of delight. Upon the decayed old parchment he could only discern one faint word, Monteluma; then the casket dropped from his nerveless grasp and fell to the stone floor with a crash.

An exclamation of delight escaped him as the gems which had fallen upon the floor, flashed back the sun-rays in scintillating splendor, and the low, dull room was lit by a glare like the lightning-riven storm-cloud.

It was a scene of bewildering beauty--of fascinating splendor--that met his gaze:--great diamonds, that shot broad flashes of rainbow light; strands of pale pearls, glinting in fitful splendor; burning rubies, that poured forth flames of crimson, which mingled with the rays shed by the amethysts of rose, purple, and lilac; while the lurid, baleful fire of opals and emeralds flickered and glimmered in the sunlight.

Stooping down, young Warlow gathered up the priceless gems, trembling meanwhile at the strange, unreal event, and after securely placing them again within the casket, and rearranging the room, he mounted his horse and galloped back over the swelling hills.

As the hoofs of his gray Norman tore through the thickets of rank gra.s.s, tangled and woven in a maze of golden, leafless tendrils by the slender love-vine, or bruised the mignonette until all the moist, sultry air was rich with its pungent fragrance, Clifford was revolving in his mind several plans for concealing the mighty treasure of which he had just become the guardian. He concluded that he must find a secure hiding-place at his dwelling, where the casket might remain until the proper moment should arrive when he could reveal the discovery, and restore the property to its rightful owner.

On arriving at his dwelling, Clifford tied his horse in the stable, then entered the house, locking the door and drawing the blinds, so as to be safe from intrusion while he pondered over the situation.

The room was a tastefully-furnished apartment, carpeted with a rich, dark carpet, a remnant of luxury that had once adorned the old plantation home, and supplied with easy chairs, a book-case, well filled, and some good paintings, which were gifts from his early friends.

This room was the gathering-place for the men and boys of Clifford's neighborhood on rainy days and lonesome Sundays, and here it was that he spent most of his leisure time in reading or study.

At length he arose and went to the attic, from which place he soon returned with a case of tools. Then, taking up the carpet in the corner of the room, he sawed out a place in the floor large enough to admit the strong, iron-bound chest, which he had dragged out from the adjoining room.

After hastily tacking some cleats on the boards, which he had sawed out of the floor, thus providing a lid for the cavity, he placed the chest within the aperture. The bottom of the strong box rested on the earth below, and its top came nearly even with the floor. In a small compartment of this chest young Warlow placed the jewels; then he paused awhile to look at the roll of parchments.

These doc.u.ments proved to be the patents to the estate of Monteluma, and Clifford could dimly see the signatures of Charles V and Philip II, with the broad seal of the Spanish crown on the mildewed, discolored, yet precious parchments.

There was, in addition, a large envelope, heavily sealed, on which the superscription was quite dim. In the waning light young Warlow failed to decipher it; but promising himself that he would soon examine this mystery-hinting missive at greater leisure, he placed all the papers in the chest, which he securely locked, closed the trap-door, and tacked down the carpet; then, fastening up the house with great care, he hurried down to his father's dwelling.

Chapter XVII.

Maud and Rob met Clifford at the gate, and as he pa.s.sed under the latticed arch where the trumpet-vine clambered with succulent ambition, its sprays of flame-red bugles mottled with spots of velvety black, Maud said eagerly:--

"I was growing uneasy about you, Cliff. Did you see nothing of that strange, gray-robed creature up at the cell?"

"Nothing whatever; but I am led to believe that mysterious being often stays there. We must keep a sharp watch on the place hereafter, and perhaps we may unravel the mystery," he replied, anxious to lead the subject away from his recent search.

As he stood, dreading further questioning, the supper-bell sounded, and he quickly moved on into the house, determined that he would conceal his discovery until he had made a search for the gold also.

The Warlow family retired early that night; but as the clock struck two Clifford arose, and listening to be certain that Rob was safe in the arms of Morpheus, he then stepped lightly out on to the veranda, and, after pausing a moment at the foot of the steps to draw on his boots, hurried down to the barn.

After saddling one of his Norman horses, he rode up to his dwelling, where he secured the iron rod and spade with which he had prosecuted his former search, and then galloped on down to the old cottonwood-tree.

Tying his horse to an ash-tree on the river bank, he began digging on the very spot where he had unearthed the cask with all its attending horrors. While throwing the soil out of the pit, he soon forgot the dangers and disappointment which had attended that adventure, and in his eagerness to reach the shattered cask, still remaining below him, he labored with such energy that he soon reached the object of his search.