Jack Harkaway and His Son's Escape from the Brigands of Greece Part 48

He endeavoured to realise some of the possible consequences of it.

The arrest was, he felt a.s.sured, illegal.

What then?

What could result from such a proceeding?

Would they detain him?

Could they?--that was the question.

The British amba.s.sador might be influenced by people of the rank and position of the Harkaways.

This granted, it was easy enough for his excellency to waive legal forms and ceremonies there, and get Hunston transferred to the safe keeping of the English authorities.

At this point Hunston could not repress a shudder.

And why? He thought of what must necessarily follow.

His fevered fancy flew ahead, and he saw himself in the dock, faced by the stony-faced judge, and put through the torture of cross-examination which laid bare the innermost recesses of his black heart in spite of himself.

He saw further on yet.

He shut his eyes as he went on and heard the tramp of the twelve jurors re-entering the court in the midst of a profound and awesome silence.

He heard the solemn formula; he heard the hollow voice of the foreman give the verdict--

"Guilty!"

All that he heard and saw in his mind's eye, in that brief but unpleasant hustling he had to go through at the hands of the ungenerous and indefatigable officer Daniel Pike.

And Hunston now, being half cowed by his captor, was being driven through the streets like a lamb to the slaughter, when a sudden and startling incident changed the whole spirit of the scene, even in the twinkling of an eye.

A musket, grasped in a strong hand by the barrel, was swung over their heads, and down it came with an awful crack upon poor Pike's head.

Down he dropped like a bullock under the butcher's pole-axe.

And Hunston was free.

For a few seconds he could not realise his release, so sudden and unexpected it had been.

"Come along," said a voice in his ear; "away with you, or we shall get into trouble here."

This aroused him.

He recognised the voice of Tomaso the brigand, and it brought him to his presence of mind.

Off he started at a good brisk run in the direction that his preserver had taken.

And soon was out of danger.

But Tomaso was not so fortunate.

Following Hunston at a more leisurely pace, he had not gone many yards, when a firm grip was placed upon his shoulder.

"Halt!" said a voice.

The brigand turned hastily, and found himself in the firm clutch of the detective.

"I have caught you at last, villain!" exclaimed Pike the detective, as he twisted his hand into the collar of the garment Tomaso wore instead of a shirt.

Then, before the astonished brigand had time either to remonstrate or resist, the Englishman exhibited to him that particular form of wrestling known as the "cross b.u.t.tock," and stretched him at full length on the ground.

Another moment and a pair of real Bow Street handcuffs snapped on Tomaso's wrists.

"Neatly done; don't you think so?" said Pike.

Tomaso's answer was a tremendous Greek oath.

"You're swearing, I believe. Now that is a bad habit at all times, and very foolish just now, because you see it don't hurt me, inasmuch as I don't understand it," said Pike, who, after a brief, stern survey of his captive, added--

"If you cursed me in English, though, I don't know but what I might be tempted to punch your ugly head."

Tomaso remained silent, and Pike, after pausing some seconds, helped him to his feet.

"Now you are all right, and will come back quietly with me. But how do the bracelets fit? I've got another pair in my pocket."

"You had better release me," observed Tomaso.

"Now that is very ridiculous, my friend. Why should I take the trouble of capturing you, if I let you run again directly?"

"It will be much to your disadvantage to imprison me, Signor Englishman. An injured Greek is always avenged in some way."

"Just so; however, I'll risk that"

Pike's coolness added to the rage of the brigand, whose pa.s.sion fairly boiled over.

"May all the infernal G.o.ds my forefathers worshipped--may the fiend I--"

"Serve," suggested Pike.

"The fiend I would willingly serve, or sell my soul to, for vengeance, visit you with his direst displeasure, and may all the plagues of Egypt blight you!"

"Thank ye, that's a very pleasant speech; something like what I used to hear at the theatre. But, old friend, you made one little blunder."

"You will see if I have blundered."

"One little blunder, when you spoke of selling your soul. Lor' bless you, Old Scratch isn't such a fool as to buy nowadays, whatever he may have done years ago."