The Pirate Woman Part 21

She stood quite near to him now, leaning forward in an att.i.tude of utter anxiety. She saw nothing of Venner; her great, violet eyes were dusky and full of yearning, her hands clutched at her breast. And all the intensity of her gaze was fixed upon Tomlin. She responded to his momentary success when he drove Pea.r.s.e back with a savage a.s.sault, with a panting little cry of joy; she fell back with widened eyes when a counter-attack forced Tomlin almost upon her. And her lips opened in a gasp when a vicious clash of steel told of a pressed onslaught, and Pea.r.s.e lunged heavily forward.

In the instant when Pea.r.s.e followed his first plunge, Dolores stood in uncertainty through which dawned jubilation. Then her face went white, she seemed to lose all her splendid vitality; for her astounded eyes fastened upon Pea.r.s.e's rapier-point, protruding a foot from Tomlin's back, and slowly the stricken man sagged away and fell at her feet, clutching at the steel at his breast and snarling like a beast.

A hush fell over the great chamber. Then from a distance came the sound of voices, voices of men down at the sh.o.r.e, ringing clear and sharp on the still air, accentuating the deathly hush that clung around the actors in the scene like a heavy mantle. It startled Dolores into renewed life. She ran with feverish eagerness toward Tomlin, hurling aside the others, and crouching upon the body in dry-eyed rage.

Venner sought to catch the eye of the victor, and saw in Pea.r.s.e a reflection of the feelings that had possessed himself. John Pea.r.s.e showed every sign of horror and awakened sanity that had marked his own expression before the fatal fight had started. Their eyes met, and there was no challenge in them. Both dropped their gaze involuntarily upon the huddled figures at their feet; and it was Pea.r.s.e, the man who had precipitated the conflict at first, who nodded with his head a silent invitation to withdraw. Venner stepped after him, softly and with bowed shoulders, shuddering violently as he pa.s.sed the expiring Tomlin.

They reached the door together, and with the rocky tunnel open before them, once more holding up to their eyes the picture of absolute beauty of sea and sky and sh.o.r.e, they filled their lungs with fresh, wholesome air, and shook off the last of the evil spell that had held them.

"In G.o.d's name, Pea.r.s.e, let us fly from this h.e.l.lish place!" whispered Venner, dropping his rapier to the rocky floor with a clatter, and thrusting his hand out in reconciliation.

"Yes, Venner, and pray Heaven we may forget!" replied Pea.r.s.e fervently.

"But how shall we get away? The giant and his crew are yet at the schooner."

"We must wait. They will return soon for more booty. Then we must seize the chance. Is that somebody coming now?"

Milo's great shoulders reared above the cliff, and behind him came the slaves. They came directly toward the great rock, and Pea.r.s.e flattened himself against the wall in the shadow of the portals, pressing Venner back also with a hand across his chest.

"Hush! Hide here. Let them enter, and we'll make one leap for the sh.o.r.e."

The giant swung into the pa.s.sage, his black eyes blazing with some emotion that the hidden pair could not fathom. It was something on the border of fear, but of what? Fear and Milo was a combination hard of reconciliation. The slaves at his heels followed dumbly, slaves in thought and action; if their dulled brains ever awoke, it was but to the call of animal appet.i.tes; they were incapable of devotion such as Milo's, and as incapable of shock should their obedience fail reward.

They pa.s.sed into the great chamber, and a throaty cry of alarm burst from the giant at the sight of his Sultana p.r.o.ne on the floor.

"Now!" whispered Pea.r.s.e, taking the lead. "Swift and silent!"

Like ghosts they ran from the tunnel, glanced around once as they reached the cliff path, then leaped down the declivity. That swift glance showed them the camp deserted except for the wondering women, who wandered idly among the empty huts, ever looking toward the forest wherein had vanished all their men, waiting with bovine patience for any one to settle their uncertainty for them.

And the forest was yet very still. The Feu Follette lay at a single anchor, heading in the light breeze fair to seaward; a few heads showed above her rail, and the stops had been cast off from her snowy sails. At her gangway a single boat lay, the painter made fast on deck; on the foresh.o.r.e the other two long-boats were drawn up on the sand, planks running up to their sides in readiness for the embarkation of yet more treasure.

Venner and Pea.r.s.e raced down the steep path, using little precaution, sending showers of stones and clods flying before them. And Peters, the schooner's sailing-master, saw them coming, and his voice rang out calling for hands to man the boat. Two men answered and entered the boat as the two fugitives reached the sh.o.r.e and ran along the Point. Pea.r.s.e counted the minutes at their disposal, and saw the futility of waiting for that boat. He clutched eagerly at Venner's arm, and panted in his ear:

"Tell them to hold on! Let them get the schooner ready for swift departure. Come, we must swim for it."

Venner hesitated but a second. Then his hail went hurtling over the still haven, and the two seamen scrambled out of the boat again.

"Swim it is, Pea.r.s.e," he said, leading the way down to deep water. "Swim it is, and may the ever-cleansing sea wash out of us the last traces of insanity."

Together they plunged into the blue sea and swam swiftly out to the schooner.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE FLIGHT OF THE FEU FOLLETTE.

Dolores, flinging herself down upon Craik Tomlin, seized his face between her hands and raised his head, placing her knee beneath it. She panted like an exhausted doe, yet the fire that leaped from her eyes gave the lie to her att.i.tude of sorrowing humility. Her lips moved feverishly, but she could not or would not speak aloud. Tomlin's eyes were closed in agony, his teeth were clenched tightly upon his under lip; he gave no sign that he knew of her presence. And a sudden fury seized her at his irresponsiveness. She shook his head between her hands savagely.

"Wake! Speak!" she cried hoa.r.s.ely. "Art indeed dead, at the moment of my triumph?"

Tomlin's eyelids flickered, and his lips strove to speak. One hand went weakly to his face, to grasp her fingers. And into her anxious ear he managed to whisper:

"Evil luck fought with me, Dolores. Yet I die content if you care."

"Care!" she echoed, shaking his fingers loose impatiently. "Care? Yes, this I care, bungler: I care because of all three of thee, thou alone wert covetous enough to obey my conditions. With thee alive, there was hope of thy friends' speedy death. With thee dead, which of the others will wipe his fellow from his path for me? Why, think ye, did I fawn on John Pea.r.s.e? But to arouse in thee the demon of jealousy; why did I smile on Venner, and call him my Rupert? To steel thy arm against him.

And for what?"

She suddenly laid his head down on the floor, leaned over him with her lips almost brushing his cheek, and whispered fiercely: "Speak! Canst live?"

Tomlin's face lost some of its pain. The thin lips straightened into the semblance of a faint smile. His glazing eyes opened slightly.

"I am done for," he whispered. "Dolores, kiss me again. I die for you."

The beautiful fury sprang to her feet, spurning him. She glared down at his chalky face in utter scorn.

"Kiss thee? Thou die for me? Pah! I kiss no carrion. A half-hundred men have died for me this day, I hope. I kiss him who lives for me and conquers, not the weakling who dies!"

Without deigning another glance at her victim, she turned away and went to meet Milo. He now entered with his slaves.

"Where are the two strangers?" she demanded harshly.

Milo returned her stare with a look of simple surprise. He had seen nothing of them, and had thought of them being yet with his mistress.

"I saw them not, Sultana," he replied.

"Saw them not, great clod!" she blazed at him, clenching her hands in rage. "Are they here, then?"

Milo looked around in bewilderment. In all her life Dolores had been his especial care; in her many moments of temper she had perhaps pained his devoted heart, but never had she used to him the tone she now used. It seemed to his simple soul that the foundations of his faith were being wrenched loose.

"I will find them, Sultana," he said quietly, and turned to leave by the tunnel.

"Stay here, thou blind fool!" she commanded him. "I will find them myself. Here is work more fitting for a slave. How many chests are going to the ship?"

"Three."

"And how many have ye yet empty here?"

"Three, lady."

"Then get them quickly. Until I return, bid thy fellows replace the treasure that is still in the powder store. And haste, for I will leave this place this day, though all the fiends say no."

She ran along the tunnel, and Milo set his men to their task. As he pa.s.sed along to the powder chamber, a low moan arrested him, and he halted in sudden remorse for Pascherette, whom he now felt he had judged harshly. He left his fellows and went to the tiny alcove where the little octoroon lay, and his great heart leaped in response to the worship that shone in her dark eyes. He saw the dry and cracked lips, the flushed face, and fetched water and wine before he would speak to her. Then, with her small head and slender shoulders against his immense chest, he gave her drink, soothing her pain with soft speech and caressing hand.

Pascherette's wound was deep, and bleeding internally; a fever already burned in the tiny maid's veins. She peered up at him wistfully, all of her mischief, all her piquancy gone and replaced by a softened, humbled expression that wrung Milo's heart-strings.

"Will ye not kiss me now, Milo?" she whispered, with a pearly drop br.i.m.m.i.n.g from each eye, where laughter had so lately dwelt.