Among the Brigands Part 36

The guide smiled, and made no answer. It was a brilliant idea.

It was all his own. He was proud of it. He was pleased to think that the number of them was equal to the number of days in the year. Three hundred and sixty-five handkerchiefs collected from the good, the virtuous, the self-sacrificing people of Albano, who were now yelling and howling as before, at the rear of the house, and diversifying the uproar by loud calls and inquiries about the wild boar.

The guide smiled cheerily over the handkerchiefs. He was so proud of his original idea! He went calmly on, forming them into a rough bundle, doing it very dexterously, so that the bundle might be tight enough to hold together, yet loose enough to burn, Frank watched him curiously. So did Bob. So did Uncle Moses. So did Clive.

So did David. Three hundred and sixty-five handkerchiefs! Only think of it!

At last the work was finished. The handkerchiefs rolled up into a big ball, loose, yet cohesive, with ends hanging out in all directions.

"You had better be careful what you do," said Clive. "The end of the chamber below is full of dry f.a.gots. If they were to catch fire, what would come of us?"

"O, alla right," said the guide. "Nevare fear. I trow him so he sall not go near de wood. He make no flame, only de smoke.

Nevare fear."

At this the trepidation which these preparations bad excited in the minds of Clive and David, departed, and they watched the subsequent proceedings without a word.

The guide now took the bundle which he had formed out of the handkerchiefs of the population of Albano, and holding it under his left arm, he drew forth some matches, and breaking off one, he struck it against the sole of his boot. It kindled. Thereupon he held the Same to the bundle of handkerchiefs. The flame caught.

The bundle blazed. The guide held it for some time till the blaze caught at one after another of the projecting ends of the rolled-up handkerchiefs, and the flame had eaten its way into the ma.s.s, and then venturing nearer to the doorway, he advanced, keeping a little on one side, and watching for an opportunity to throw it in. Frank followed with his rusty gun, Bob with his pitchfork, and Uncle Moses with his scythe. All were ready, either for attack or defence, and all the while the bellowing of the crowd behind the house went on uninterruptedly.

The guide reached at length a point about ten feet from the door.

Then he poised himself and took aim. Then he threw the burning ball.

But his aim was bad. The ball struck the side of the doorway, and fell outside. In an instant Frank rushed forward, and seizing it, threw it inside. It fell on the floor, and rolled towards the foot of the ladder, where it lay blazing, and smouldering, and sending forth smoke enough to satisfy the most exacting mind.

Then Frank drew back a little, poising his gun, while Bob, Uncle Moses, and the guide, took up their stations beside him.

The smoke rose up bravely from the burning ma.s.s; but after all, the result was not what had been desired. It rolled up through the opening above, and gathered in blue ma.s.ses in the room where Clive and David were imprisoned. They felt the effects of the pungent vapors very quickly, more especially in their eyes, which stung, and smarted and emitted torrents of tears. Their only refuge from this new evil was to thrust their heads as far out of the windows as was possible; and this they did by sitting on the window ledge, clinging to the wall, and projecting their bodies far forward outside of the house. For a time they were sustained by the hope that their enemy below was feeling it worse than they were, and that he would soon relax his vigilant watch and fly. But alas!

that enemy showed no signs of flight, and it soon became evident to them and to those outside, that all the smoke went to the upper room, to oppress the prisoners, and but little spread through the lower room; so little, indeed, that the wild boar did not feel any inconvenience in particular.

"Can't you do something?" asked Clive, imploringly.

"We can't stand this much longer," said David, despairingly, with streaming eyes, and choking voice.

Their words sounded faint and low amidst the yelling of the crowd behind the house, who still maintained their stations there, from preference, and kept up their terrific outcry. Amid the yells there came occasional anxious inquiries as to the success of their efforts. At times messengers would venture from the rear to the front to reconnoitre. These messengers, however, were only few in number, and their reconnoitring was of the most superficial description possible.

The latest experiment of the guide was the cause of more frequent and more urgent inquiries. So many handkerchiefs had been invested in this last venture, that it was brought nearer home than before.

Each man felt that he was concerned personally in the affair; that, in fact, he, in the shape of a representative of so important a kind as his own handkerchief, was already inside, and a.s.sailing the obstinate monster with a more terrible arm than any which had yet been employed--smoke and fire.

But the clamor of the crowd had not so much effect on the little band in front, as the sight of poor Clive and David, who, clinging to the window with their faces flushed, and their eyes red, swollen, and streaming with tears, appeared unable to hold out much longer.

"Do something or other, quick," cried Clive.

"I'll have to jump down," said David.

And both, of them tried to push themselves farther out, while their faces were turned down, and they seemed anxiously measuring with their eyes the distance between themselves and the ground.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

_The Salamander inaccessible to Fire.--The last Appeal.--Frank takes Action.--He fires.--Casualty to Frank and Bob.--Onset of the Monster.--Flight.--Tremendous Sensation.--The Guide's Story.--Another Legend of Albano.--On to Rome._

For some time Frank had felt an intolerable impatience, and had been deliberating in his own mind about the best way of ending a scene which was not only painful to the poor prisoners, but humiliating to himself. In spite, however, of the immense odds in favor of the attacking party, Frank could not think of any way of making those odds available under present circ.u.mstances, when the last plaintive appeal and the desperate proposal of Clive and David came to his ears. He saw that they were suffering tortures from the smoke, that they could not endure it much longer, and that they would have to make a descent from the window. To prevent this, and the danger that might result from it, Frank resolved upon immediate action.

So he grasped his rusty fowling-piece with a deadly purpose, and rushed to the narrow doorway of the old house. Bob followed at once with his pitchfork, resolved to go wherever Frank led the way, and to stand by him at all hazards. The guide stood looking on. Uncle Moses also stood still, and made a feeble attempt to order the two boys back; but his words were neither heard nor heeded. At this David and Clive stopped in their desperate design, and looked down at Frank and Bob.

Frank stood by the doorway.

He put his head inside, and looked all around, cautiously, yet resolutely. The interior, however, was always a dark place; and now the fumes of blue smoke made it yet darker. But though his eyes saw nothing of the fierce beast, his ears could detect the rustle and the crackle which were produced by the motion of something among the f.a.gots. This noise showed him plainly where it must be.

Thereupon he hesitated no longer.

He raised his rusty fowling-piece to his shoulder!

He took deadly aim!

He fired!

Bang!!!

The flash illumined the dark interior, and the smoke from the gun united with the smoke that was already there. Bat simultaneous with the bang and the flash, Frank felt himself hurled back-ward, and to the ground, knocked down by the recoil of the gun, flat on his back.

Up rushed Bob, full of the deepest anxiety.

But just as he reached the prostrate form of Frank, there was a hurried clatter from within, and then--down he also went--head first--over and over--struck down by some rushing figure that had emerged from the pile of f.a.gots, burst through the doorway, and was now careering wildly over the fields.

Uncle Moses saw that figure, and then hurried up to his two prostrate boys.

David and Clive from their stations at the window saw it, and then instantly hurried down the ladder, and out of the house, where they stood panting and staring wildly at vacancy.

The guide saw it, and as he saw it there came over his face an expression of an utterly indescribable kind. He clasped his hands together, and then uttered a series of exclamations for which the English language, or indeed any other language but the Italian, can afford no equivalent.

While he was thus standing with clasped hands, vociferating and staring, in company with David and Clive, at the receding figure, Frank had sprung to his feet, and so had Bob; Uncle Moses, too, stood gazing at the object of universal interest; and thus all of them stood staring, with feelings that defy description, at the scene before them.

What was this scene that thus held their gaze?

Well, in the first place, there was that valley, already so familiar to David and Clive--a smooth slope on either side, some olive trees near, but beyond that all bare, and no houses visible in that direction. Now, over this open s.p.a.ce there was running--so swift and so straight that it was evidently impelled by pain or panic--what?

_A little black pig!_

A pig, small, as has just been said, an ordinary domestic pig--of no particular breed--the commonest of animals. Moreover, it was black. It was also, undoubtedly, as has just been remarked, either suffering from some of the shot of Frank's rusty gun, or from the terror that might have been excited by its report. And now this little black pig was running as fast as its absurd little legs could carry it--far away across the fields.

"O, holy saints!" cried the guide; "it's the little black pig, that we missed from the convent yesterday morning--the pig--the little black pig--the pig--the pig! Is it possible? O, is it possible?"

Every word of this was heard by the boys. They understood it all now. It seemed also that the little black pig, having accomplished as much mischief as any single pig can ever hope to bring about, was evidently making the best of its way to its home, and steering straight, for the convent. This they saw, and they gazed in silence.

Nothing was said, for nothing could be said. They could not even look at one another. David and Clive were of course the most crestfallen; but the others had equal cause for humiliation.

After all their gigantic preparations, their cautions advances, and their final blow,--to find their antagonist reduced to this was too much. Now, the fact is, that if it had really been a wild boar, Frank's act would have been the same; and as he acted under the belief that it was so, it was undoubtedly daring, and plucky, and self-sacrificing; but, unfortunately, the conclusion of the affair did not allow him to look upon it in that light.