Eveline Mandeville Part 31

CHAPTER XXI.

EVELINE PURSUED BY WOLVES--BILL AND d.i.c.k--DUFFEL.

Terrible was the condition in which Eveline felt herself to be placed when the deep-toned howls and piercing screams of the ferocious denizens of the forest fell upon her ear! In a moment all the wild and horrible stories of adventures with wild beasts she had ever heard or read about, came vividly up in her memory, and from a hundred places her disturbed fancy pictured the glaring eyes of savage monsters which she imagined were in the act of springing upon her. From these she would turn in affright, and hasten away as fast as her trembling limbs could bear her. In this way her confusion became more aggravated, until, finally, every trace of knowledge as to distance or courses, was obliterated in her mind, and she wandered without method or aim, save that she always went in an opposite direction to that from which the last sound proceeded. But this indefinite way of fleeing from harm did not answer her wishes; for soon she heard the baying of wolves in her rear, and the constancy of their howling, and the directness of their movements convinced her that she was pursued! What a thought was that! Alone, and lost in the wide wilderness, and the fiercest and most daring of its ferocious inhabitants on her track!

No sooner was this conviction fixed in her mind, than she flew rather than ran, tearing her clothes and lacerating her flesh against the brush and thorns which beset her way. She scarcely felt the wounds and thought as little of the destruction of her garments, but kept on, on, on, she knew not whither, and cared not, so that she escaped from her dreaded pursuers.

All would not do. Ever and increasing, nearer and nearer, came the dismal sound! How her heart died within her, as the increased loudness of the baying of the wolves told her they were fast overtaking her! In vain she exerted all her remaining strength, and taxed every nerve and muscle to its utmost capacity! There was no help! As unerring as mistakeless instinct, and as certain as the decree of fate came the blood-thirsty pack! Despair began to settle down upon her spirit, and she was almost ready to wish herself back in the cave. But at this juncture, a sound seven-fold louder than any thunder she had ever heard, broke with stunning violence through the solemn forest, and at the same moment, far in the distance, flashed up a column of fire sparkling and scintillating, and sending a gleam, as of lightning, among the shades of the dim wilderness. It was the knell and funeral light of the cave.

Instantly everything was as hushed as the chamber of death; not a sound disturbed the stillness of the deep solitude that reigned around her, and Eveline herself paused, and held her breath in alarm and wonder. The illumination lasted but for a moment, and all was dark again; but in that moment the affrighted girl saw a large tree before her, with a cavity at its base, sufficiently large to admit her person; and, as soon as she could collect her thoughts after the surprise of this unexpected and mysterious phenomenon, she resolved to make the cavity an asylum for the night. She no longer heard anything of the wolves; the unaccountable light and noise seemed to have frightened them away, and with deliberation she rolled up pieces of timber to block up the mouth of her retreat, then entered and barred herself in as securely as she could, and patiently and sleeplessly awaited the dawn of day. The night being already far advanced, she had not long to wait, though to her it seemed like an age ere the welcome light appeared; but it did at last, without the anxious moments being disturbed, and she stepped forth from her hiding-place to renew her efforts to reach home. But she was at a loss to know which course to take, or what method to adopt in order to extricate herself from the mazes of the pathless wilderness in whose impenetrable shadows she was enveloped. She stood for some moments in a state of perplexing irresolution, and then resolved to walk in the direction of the rising sun, thinking that if she did not reach home in that way, it was probable she would arrive at some settlement; and she was anxious to see the habitations of men, even if the occupants were entire strangers, for she felt a deep dread of remaining another night in the wilderness, and knew that once among honest men, it would be quite an easy matter to get home, even if the distance was great.

Having settled upon a line of action, Eveline began to execute her purpose with all the energy and promptness for which she was distinguished. She had proceeded some distance, and the sun whose dim approach was only heralded by a few faint streaks of light when she set out, was now pouring a flood of light through the interstices of the forest, when her attention was suddenly arrested by the appearance of two hors.e.m.e.n wending their way amid the intricacies of the wild-wood. Her first thought was to call to them for help, but on more mature deliberation she was fearful they might belong to Duffel's band, and if so, would betray her into the hands of that unprincipled and enraged villain, when she knew but too well that death or a fate infinitely worse, was the the alternative left for choice; she therefore kept silent, preferring to take the chances of her lone pilgrimage to casting herself into unknown and suspected hands.

It soon appeared, however, that the discovery was mutual, and that the hors.e.m.e.n had less fear of her than she of them; for, after a moment's pause to satisfy themselves of the reality of her presence, they turned their horses' heads toward her, and in a few seconds arrived at the spot where she stood, silently awaiting their approach. She had feared they were members of the a.s.sociation of thieves, and as such, was expecting to see hard features with a brigand's expression upon them; but, much to her surprise and pleasure, the men before her bore none of the marks she had pictured to herself, but were genteelly dressed and quite fine-looking fellows. One of them addressed her in the most polite manner and with a grace that showed plainly he had been in good society:

"Will you pardon me, fair lady, a stranger, for being so bold as to presume to address you? but it is so strange to see one so delicate as yourself in the midst of a wild wilderness at such an early hour. May I inquire if misfortune has overtaken you? or why it is that you are here? and if we can be of any service to you?"

There was something in the voice that sounded familiar to Eveline, and she looked at the speaker to see if she could recognize him as a casual acquaintance, but she could not; his features and face were entirely strange to her; and though every word he uttered seemed to be in a tone she had heard before, it was impossible for her to tell where or when, and she concluded it must be a singular coincidence and nothing more. When he concluded, she replied:

"I have been so unfortunate, sir, as to lose my way in the forest, and have wandered I know not whither, in my nightlong efforts to extricate myself from the unpleasant situation in which I am placed. If you can aid me to get to C----, or to any other neighborhood, I will take it as a great favor, and will reward you for your trouble."

"We will escort you with the greatest pleasure to any point you may wish to go. You must have wandered a long way if you started from C----, for it is more than fifty miles to that place."

"Indeed! I had no expectation it was so far. I cannot think of asking you to take me such a distance."

"We will do so with the utmost pleasure without being asked; it is exactly in our way, and very fortunately we have a horse at hand, already caparisoned for a lady's use, which is at your service." Then turning to the other he said:--"Bring up the led horse for the lady," and his companion started as directed. The speaker then continued, again directing his discourse to Eveline:

"By the appearance of your apparel, I should suppose you had not found the underbrush of the forest a very pleasant impediment to travel; your face and hands, too, I perceive, have suffered severely."

"Yes, I have found darkness and the brush and thorns rather difficult opponents to contend with;" saying which, she glanced at her habiliments for the first time, and their tattered appearance caused her to blush; but in explanation, she narrated the adventures of the night, except such parts as related to the cave and her captors, which she deemed it best not to divulge, not knowing into whose hands she was falling. As she finished the narrative, the other man came up with the horses, and she was a.s.sisted to mount the one adapted to her use, when the three immediately started on their journey.

We have only to say--and the reader, most likely, has already antic.i.p.ated us--that these two men were none other than Bill and d.i.c.k disguised, who had accidentally fallen in with her in that unexpected place, to the great delight of the former, and with ill-concealed disappointment on the part of the latter. They had intended to remain in the woods that day, and had just left the led horse for the purpose of making observations, when the unexpected event caused them to change their original intention, and set out on their journey for Virginia immediately. Little dreamed Eveline that she had fallen into such hands--that these, her seeming friends, were the very villains she had heard plotting their schemes of rascality and crime.

How different from what they were would have been her feelings, had she known the truth in relation to her situation!

'Squire Williams and his party had no difficulty in finding the way into the swamp, as pointed out in Bill's note, and ere the sun was two hours in the heavens they had pa.s.sed the marshy place spoken of, and were on the island, where, if the note of information was correct, they might expect to find Duffel and the stolen horse.

Here the 'Squire directed the men to remain while he went forward to reconnoiter and ascertain, if possible, where the animal and the villain were. He returned in less than an hour, bringing the intelligence that he had found the whereabouts of the former, but had been able to discover no traces of the latter.

A consultation was held as to what should be done, but opinions were divided. At this juncture Mr. Mandeville, who had manifested but little interest in the affair until now, and who was not apprised of the individuality of the persons they were after, seemed suddenly to become himself again, and taking in the whole subject at a glance, threw in his opinion to the following effect:

"The horse being found as stated in the letter, we have every reason to believe that the thief is not far off; and as the beast cannot live without food, at some time during the day the thief, who is, doubtless, secreted somewhere about the vicinity of the horse, will come out to feed him. I think all we need to do is to hide ourselves near the animal and wait for the fellow to appear."

This advice was at once adopted, and moving forward under the 'Squire's guidance as noiselessly as Indians, the whole party secreted themselves in ambush, within shooting distance of the horse, which was hid away in a thicket of bushes so nicely, that it was a mere accident the 'Squire discovered him. Here they remained in whispered silence for several hours, until some time in the afternoon, and were about to despair of seeing the culprit, when their attention was directed by Mr. Mandeville, who had kept a sharp look out, to a man descending from a thick, bushy topped tree. He was a good way off, and they could not distinguish his features; but he paused and looked around in all directions, as if to satisfy himself that there was no one near to observe his motions; then going to a large tree, and taking another look around to be sure of safety, he removed some bark from its base, which was very dextrously fitted to its place, and revealed a large hollow caused by the decay of the inner portions of the tree, from which he drew forth a bag of oats, and, cautiously approaching the horse, gave him a mess.

"Now is our time!" whispered the 'Squire. "Two of you go on either side so as to cut off his retreat, while Mandeville and I march directly upon him.

You, Jake, look out for, and take charge of the horse. Move rapidly, but with as little noise as possible. Strike out!"

With the concluding words all five rose from their hiding-place and proceeded to execute the parts a.s.signed them.

Duffel, whose senses were quickened by fear, heard the breaking of a small stick under the tread of one of the party, and looking out, saw his danger; for he recognized his pursuers, though they had not, as yet, ascertained who he was. In a moment he decided upon his course of action, which was to flee for life; and, mounting the horse, which he had in preparation for any emergency, he bounded away at as rapid a rate as he could force the animal into going.

The 'Squire called out to him to stop; but he seemed not to hear.

"Stop!" repeated the 'Squire, "stop, or I'll shoot you!"

Still he heeded not the command or the warning, but made only the greater exertions to get out of reach of gun-shot and make his escape.

Without losing more time, the 'Squire leveled his rifle and fired. The rider tottered for a moment and then fell from his seat. In a minute or two he was surrounded by his pursuers.

"You have killed me, 'Squire," were his first words, as that gentleman came up.

"Well, why did you not stop; I should not have fired if you had done so."

"I did not wish to be taken alive."

At this juncture Mr. Mandeville came round where he had a view of the thief's face, and, with unfeigned horror and amazement, he recognized him, and exclaimed:

"_Duffel!_"

"Yes, Mandeville," said Duffel, "it is I, and there is Tom, _your_ horse."

"So he is, as I live," said the bewildered individual. "How is this? I certainly am not dreaming."

"No," replied Duffel. "I would to G.o.d it was a dream. You see before you the very man of all others you had chosen for a son-in-law, and but for your daughter's opposition, I would this day have stood in that relation to you, which I am now glad is not the case. But I have much to reveal to you and little time to do it in."

"Well, first of all, have you seen anything of Eveline?"

"Yes, I have both seen and conversed with her, and until last night I knew where she was, but now I do not."

He then entered into a brief history of his past conduct in relation to Hadley and Eveline, keeping nothing back.

"So, then, Hadley is dead?" queried the 'Squire, who felt a deep interest in that young man's welfare.

"Yes, sorry enough I am to say it, for it is the only murder that rests on my conscience, and a heavy burden and a deep stain it is with which to appear in the presence of an offended G.o.d!"

"And you know nothing of Eveline?" interposed Mr. Mandeville.

"Nothing more than I have told you. She may be on her way home, or she may have fallen into the hands of those who will have as little regard for her feelings and wishes as I had. I think she has been taken from the cave by some of our number, but with what design is more than I can tell."

"Where is the cave?"

"I am bound by the most solemn oath never, under any circ.u.mstances, to make known its location, and if I were to do so, it would avail you nothing now; she is not there."

"Well, can't you give us some clue to its whereabouts?"