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Chatterbox, 1906 Part 97

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THE TRIALS OF LECKINSKI.

(_Concluded from page 306._)

For about two hours Leckinski had slept in his dungeon, when the door was gently opened, and a woman entered very softly, with a hand shading the lamp which she carried. Then the hand was suddenly withdrawn from before the light; the woman touched Leckinski on the shoulder, and said, _in French_, 'Would you like some supper?'

Leckinski, startled, sat up, with eyes scarcely open. Yet he kept his wits about him. 'What do they want with me?' he said, _in German_.

This was the first 'proof.' Castagnos wished it to be also the last.

'Give the man something to eat,' said he to his men, 'saddle his horse, and let him go on his way. How, if he were a Frenchman, could he be so thoroughly master of himself?'

But his officers refused to obey. They gave food to Leckinski, but did not saddle his horse, and kept him in the prison until morning. Then he was taken to a place where lay the bodies of ten Frenchman, who had been shot by some peasants. He was threatened with a similar fate. But, although surrounded by snares, listened to by straining ears, watched by keen eyes, the brave fellow let slip not a single suspicious word or gesture. At last, after many hours of this mental torture, he was taken back to his prison, and left alone for a time.

Again Castagnos pleaded for his captive, but his high-handed officers were still dissatisfied.

Leckinski, thankful for solitude, after a spell of uncanny visions, the result of the horrors he had actually seen, again found relief in sleep.

Again he was disturbed. 'Get up!' said--_in French_--the same gentle voice that had spoken to him before. 'Come with me! Your horse is saddled, and you are free.'

'What do they want with me?' said Leckinski _in German_, as he rubbed his eyes.

Castagnos declared that this 'young Russian,' as he called him, was a n.o.ble fellow; but the others still persisted that he was a Frenchman and a spy. After another wretched night, the unhappy prisoner was brought before a sort of tribunal, composed of officers of the General's staff.

The four men who conducted him thither uttered on the way horrible threats, but, true to his resolution, Leckinski gave no sign of understanding them. He took, apparently, no notice of anything that was said either in French or in Spanish, and, when he came before his judges, asked for an interpreter.

The examination began. The prisoner was asked what was the object of his journey from Madrid to Lisbon. To this he answered by showing his pa.s.sport and the dispatches of the Russian Amba.s.sador. These credentials would have been sufficient had it not been for the evidence of the peasant.

'Ask him,' ordered the President of the Court, 'if he loves the Spaniards?'

'Yes,' replied Leckinski, when this question was put to him, 'and I honour their devotion. I wish that our two nations were friends.'

'The prisoner,' said the interpreter, in French, 'declares that he hates and despises us. He regrets that it is not in his power to unite our whole nation into a single man, that he might annihilate us all with one blow.'

As the interpreter spoke, every eye was bent on Leckinski, watching for the effect upon him of this false interpretation, but not the slightest change of expression was visible on his face. He had expected something of this sort, and was firmly resolved not to betray himself.

Castagnos was present, an unwilling witness to this last trial, in which he had refused to take an active part. He now rose, and spoke in the voice of authority. 'The peasant must have been mistaken,' said he. 'Let the young man be instantly set at liberty. We have treated him hardly, but I hope that he will take into consideration the continual danger of our position, which forces us to be suspicious and severe.'

And so at last Leckinski got back his arms and dispatches, and went forth victorious. He reached Lisbon in safety, and fulfilled his commission. Then he would have returned to Madrid, but Junot, full of admiration for his pluck, would not allow him to run such another risk.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Thomas hurled the stone with all his force."]

THE GIANT OF THE TREASURE CAVES.

(_Continued from page 315._)

Estelle's cry was one of joy and relief, and her eyes soon discerned the form of the sailor swimming towards her. Having no desire to encounter Jack under such circ.u.mstances, Thomas hesitated no longer in getting out of danger by climbing to the ledge above. The few moments that Estelle would be in peril were not worth considering, as Jack was so near.

Thomas's chief feeling was bitterness at this renewed disappointment of his hopes. Still, as long as the child was alive, his chance might come again. So he lay quietly and silently, watching the sailor effect the rescue. There was even some curiosity as to how Jack meant to save her.

Rage was in his heart, and as he watched his hand crept out almost against his will and took up a stone lying near. For one mad moment, as the sailor dragged himself up by the rock on which Estelle was, and laid his hand on her, Thomas, forgetting all else, gave way to a mad fit of rage and jealousy. Raising himself slightly on his narrow shelf, he hurled the stone with all his force at the brown head below him. It shot past Jack, barely grazing his head as he stooped to tie the rope round Estelle, and, striking the little girl on the shoulder, glanced off into the water. The shock of the blow would have thrown her off the rock but that Jack's strong arm was round her.

The sailor's heart boiled within him. There was nothing to be done, however, but get the child away as quickly as possible. He guessed that the stone was meant for himself, and it left no doubt in his mind as to who had thrown it. With a wrathful glance upwards, he asked Estelle about the hurt, and showed her how to cling on his back, thus leaving his arms free to carry her into safety.

'Oh, it stings so, Jack,' sobbed Estelle, pressing her shoulder, as if she could hardly bear the pain.

'We must get away as fast as we can, Missie,' said he; 'or we may have another stone at us.'

Jack turned his back, and Estelle put her arms round his neck, with a frightened glance at the ledge.

'Now I'm off,' said Jack; 'hold, on tight.'

Twisting the rope round them both as an additional security, he slipped into the water. It went over their heads, but Estelle's faith in Jack never wavered. After what appeared to her a very long time of buffeting waves and wild waters, she felt herself being drawn upwards.

'There, Missie,' said Jack, cheerfully, though a little breathlessly, as he released her from the rope; 'you are safe now. In another minute we shall be on dry sand.'

Cold, bruised, tired, she felt too confused and faint to speak. A dim idea that her only chance of rescue lay in Jack made her continue to cling to him. He, meanwhile, was securing the end of the rope to a staple driven into the rock during the old smuggling days. The ledge on which he now sat was invisible from the Mermaid's Cave except to expert eyes, owing to its being so near the roof. From this ledge he looked down into that hidden storehouse for smuggled treasure of every description, the 'Treasure Cave.' It gave its name to all the other caves, but its own floor was twenty feet below any of them, and the secret of its existence was still jealously guarded by the few who knew of it.[4]

[Footnote 4: Such a cave exists also on the rocky Cornish coast, and was seen recently by a lady explorer.]

It was indeed fortunate that Jack was so well acquainted with every nook and crevice in the caves, and had made the discovery of the secret himself. The drop into the Treasure Cave was sheer; nevertheless, after securing the rope, he took the little girl in his arms and slid down with the ease of a sailor. They found themselves in a high cave into which the daylight came but dimly. There appeared to be no entrance except the one by which they had come. There was no getting away, therefore, until the tide went down. Casks, large cases, and other relics of old smuggling days were scattered about; some piled against the walls, others more in the centre, where the soft looseness of the sand testified to the dryness of the cave. These latter looked surprisingly fresh and neat, as if but recently stored there, and presented a great contrast to the sea-stained memorials of ancient days.

There seemed to be small room for doubt that the Treasure Cave was not without its uses even yet.

The boy and girl were, however, in no condition to notice anything.

Julien, whom Jack had carried to this place of refuge first, had returned to consciousness, and now lay shivering on the sand, with pale face and chattering teeth. Estelle, soaked to the skin, was placed by his side. Jack could attend to both at once in that way, and he proceeded to use vigorous measures to restore their vitality. Diving into a recess between the cases, he produced a couple of brown blankets, no doubt left there by smugglers. Very soon Estelle and Julien found themselves well wrapped up, and the warmth made a glow of returning life flow through their shivering frames.

'The sea-water will not hurt you,' said Jack, rea.s.suringly, as they looked up gratefully at his cheerful face. 'Lie there and keep warm.'

'How long shall we have to remain?' asked Julien, in a forlorn tone.

He was already looking less pale, and his teeth had ceased to chatter.

'A matter of two or three hours. Not more. The tide runs out as fast as it comes in. When you are a bit warmer we'll take a sharp run round the cave. It's a large one, you see, and you will be in a fine glow before we have been round it many times. How is your shoulder, Missie?'

'Oh, it doesn't hurt much now.'

'A good thing for you your clothes were thick,' said Jack, smiling, as she stretched out her arm, to show she could move it quite easily.

'What happened?' asked Julien, startled. 'One would think the brute would have remained satisfied with pushing me into the water. But I will make him repent,' he added, in a threatening tone. 'My father will not let him off easily.'

'He doesn't know any better,' said Estelle, gently.

'Spoken like the kind little Missie you are,' said Jack, with a smile.

'But we must not let him do any more mischief, all the same. He did not mean to hit you with the stone. It is a good thing for me that it did no more than graze my head; and for you, Missie, that it was not a larger one.'

'In fact, Jack,' laughed Estelle, with a soft glance at him, 'we have all something to be thankful for---- '

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Chatterbox, 1906 Part 97 summary

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