THE "DARK PASSAGE"—THE THEFT.
On the appointed night, the two ruffians, Bill and Dick, repaired to the "dark passage," according to arrangement, and with daggers and pistols (the latter only to be used in case of necessity, as the report of firearms might lead to detection,) awaited the arrival of their victim. About nine o'clock, the sound of horses' feet, approaching at a rapid gait, gave them to understand the hour of their deadly work was at hand. Taking their stand, one on either side of the road, they silently awaited the horseman's coming.
It was a dismal place, a low, wet valley, densely shaded and overgrown by trees, whose thick foliage scarcely admitted a single sunbeam to penetrate to the earth beneath. This gloomy passage was about half a mile in extent, and at its dark center the villains had posted themselves. Their plans were all fully matured, even down to the minute details. They were both to spring out and seize the horse by the bridle; then, while Bill held the animal, Dick was to strike the fatal blow to the heart of the rider. Not a word was to be spoken. As the man entered the passage, his pace was slackened, and he kept his eye about him, as if in fear of an attack. When within about a hundred yards of the concealed assassins, Bill whispered to his companion across the road:
"Now, Dick, make sure work of it; let the first blow tell the tale, while it silences his tongue!"
"Never fear for me; take care of your own part, and I'll do the same by mine," was Dick's reply.
In a few seconds, the horseman came abreast of the ambuscaders, both of whom sprang out at the same moment, and seizing the bridle-reins, checked the horse so suddenly as to throw him back on his haunches, to the imminent peril of the rider, who was nearly thrown from his seat. In a moment, the glittering blade of steel was at his breast. Just then, the moon broke through a rift in the clouds, and being directly in a line with the road, shone fully on the group and into the face of the traveler.
"By Jove! it's the wrong man!" exclaimed Dick, as he lowered his blade and looked at Bill inquiringly.
"So it is!" said Bill; and then, addressing the stranger, continued: "Beg pardon, sir, for our interruption. We have mistaken you for a notorious villain, thief, and robber, who was to pass this way to-night, and who, as the laws are too weak to protect us, we have determined to punish ourselves. The fact is, these, horse-thieves must be dealt with, and that speedily, too, or there will be no such thing as safety for our stock. For our parts, we have resolved to defend our property at all hazards, and others will have to do the same thing, or keep nothing of their own, for these thieves are banded together, and they are so numerous, and some of them so respectable, it is impossible to convict them before a jury; they swear each other off. Hope you will not think evil of our plans."
"To tell the truth, gentlemen, (for I take you to be gentlemen in disguise,) there is too much reality in what you say. I fear we shall have to take the law into our own hands, for these depredators are becoming so numerous and bold, there is no telling to what length their wickedness may run. These thieving operations must be stopped, cost what it may; but it seems to me this is a bad place to commence the work; it looks too much like secret murder. When I have recourse to the last resort in defense of my property it will be upon my own promises, and while the villains are in the act of crime."
"That is doubtless the best method in all ordinary cases; but the rascal whom we were expecting to pass this way to-night is too cunning to be caught at his work. He is well known to be guilty, and has more than once been arrested and tried; but always with the same result; his friends have sworn him clear; and now, we've sworn he shall go free no longer."
"Well, be careful, and don't kill the wrong man."
"We'll take care. Excuse the manner in which our introduction was made."
"Certainly, gentlemen, certainly; but don't miss your man again."
"We'll not."
"Good night."
"Good night, and a pleasant journey for you."
The man rode on and was soon out of hearing. He was the more easily deceived as to the character of his assailants, because he knew that the sentiments they expressed were held almost universally by the honest portion of the community, and already several thieves had been shot at, some of whom were known to have been wounded, though not fatally. The miscreants knew this state of public feeling, and hence their ruse. When the man was beyond hearing, Bill said, exultingly:
"Didn't I wool the fellow's eyes beautifully?"
"It was well done, Bill, well done—the best job you ever bossed. But say, do you know the man?"
"No, not from the devil."
"Well, sir, it's 'Squire Williams, sure's I'm a living son of my mother!"
"'Squire Williams?"
"Yes, it is. I've known him ever since I had such hard work to get off from him; I tell you, when I thought of the trial, I felt mightily like payin' him off for his advice on that occasion, after I was cleared; but, think's I, it won't do."
"It's well you come to that conclusion; we don't want over one dead man on our hands at once. But say, what shall we do?"
"Wait a while longer for that Hadley, and if he don't come, then go to meet Duffel."
This suggestion was accordingly acted upon. After remaining nearly three hours longer for their victim, who came not, they repaired to the place of rendezvous, to report to their employer and superior, and finish up the other branch of the night's business.
Arrived at the spot, they found Duffel pacing up and down in a state of impatience and disquietude. So soon as he was cognizant of their presence, he inquired:
"How now? What has kept you so late? Is all right?"
"If your honor will take breath a moment between the questions, we will endeavor to answer them," replied Bill.
"Well, proceed. Did you do the job?"
"No, not exactly as laid down in the bill, but—"
"What! did you let him go?"
"Why, no, your honor, we didn't let him go, for the very good reason that he didn't give us a chance to show him so much mercy."
"How?"
"You see the fellow didn't come himself, but sent a substitute!"
"The deuce, he did! How's that?"
"That's what we can't tell; we only know, that instead of young Hadley, we came within an ace of killing 'Squire Williams!"
"'Squire Williams!"
"Yes, sir. He came along at the precise hour that should have brought the other, and it being too dark to distinguish one man from another, or from old Nick for that matter, we fell on to him, and but for the merest chance would have finished him."
Here the enactment of the early part of the evening was rehearsed in full.
"It is well you got off so easily, and I must give you credit for your ingenuity; but I am exceedingly sorry the bird we were after has escaped. However, as that cannot be helped or amended just now, we will proceed with the rest of our work."
"What hour of the night is it?"
"About one o'clock; and that reminds me of the fact that we will not have time to take all the stock to-night; we shall, therefore, confine our operations to a single item—the taking of Mandeville's horse."
"Mandeville's?"
"Yes; why not?"
"I thought your honor was playing for another stake in that quarter?"
"And if I am?"
"Why, I just thought it was a queer way of gaining the old gentleman's good will—that thing of taking his horse."
"Not so queer as you might think for."
"Oh! I remember now; excuse me; this Hadley was to be made the scapegoat; you were to get a horse and have the blame of the theft thrown on a rival, whose non-appearance should condemn him. I see it all now, though I did not perceive this delicate undercurrent in the plan of affairs. Lieutenant Duffel against the world, I say!"
"Silence! Dick, you are familiar with Mr. Mandeville's premises, I believe?"
"Yes, tolerably so."
"Well, I want you to bring Tom here in about half an hour; and do the job up nicely, too."
"I'll try, sir."
"You must do it. Be quick; it is going to rain soon, and we must get him away before the tracks will show; but don't so much as disturb the sleeping grasshoppers by your noise."
"All right."
"Go now, and be here again in the shortest possible time. Bill and I will arrange matters for future operations while you are gone."
Dick hastened away to do the bidding of his master, and Duffel communicated to Bill the following piece of intelligence:
"I was very much in hopes the whole of our plan for to-night would succeed, though I heard that in the evening which caused me to have misgivings on the subject. I learned that Hadley received intelligence that his mother and uncle were both sick and not expected to recover.—They live in Philadelphia: the uncle, his mother's brother, a bachelor, by the way, with whom she is living, is reputed wealthy, and, it is said, has willed his property to young Hadley. The news of these events was brought to him yesterday, and he made immediate preparations to go east, but did not expect to get off until this morning. I presume, however, he must have started yesterday in the after part of the day; but be this as it may, I wish you and Dick to follow after him, and don't fail to finish him somehow and somewhere. If you could only manage to get ahead of him and waylay him at some point in the mountains, it would be the best place for you to do the deed and conceal the commission of the act."
"Yes, if he should be alone."
"Which will most likely be the case, at least a portion of the time. But should no such opportunity occur, or should you fail to get beyond him on the way, you must watch for him in the city; follow him as closely as his shadow, and in some dark alley, or at some unseasonable hour, put him out of the way."
"Exactly."
"You understand that this must be done, do you?"
"If Lieutenant Duffel says so."
"Well, I do say so, most emphatically. I am more anxious than ever to have him settled, since this new phase of affairs has come up."
"I understand; but when are we to start?"
"Early in the morning. We will find out as soon as possible whether he started yesterday; then you must show yourselves for a little while, as was before determined; and as soon afterward as possible be off. Be sure to get on the right track, and don't lose it."
"Never fear on that head. We will follow him as the lion does his prey."
"Well, I leave the matter with you; see that you acquit yourself as a good soldier. Give Dick such instruction as may be needed.—Here he comes."
Dick rode up on the horse he had stolen, and they all immediately repaired to the swamp, where the scheme of villainy had been planned, in the middle of which the horse was concealed for the present, as they were unable to take him further then without incurring great risk of detection.
The next morning after mingling awhile with the indignant crowd of citizens, who were collected together on hearing of the theft, and pouring out invectives on the "villain of a thief" in no measured quantity, the two ruffians, Bill and Dick, set out on their errand of death? Learning that Hadley had started the previous afternoon, they followed after him on two of the fleetest horses in the possession of the clan.
It might be well enough to remark, that in those early days most of the traveling was done on foot or on horseback.
CHAPTER IX.
On the evening of the second day of their pursuit, Dick and Bill found themselves in the immediate presence of their victim, they having reached the same inn at which he had already put up for the night. The meeting was unexpected to them, and at first they feared it might frustrate their designs; but as they had taken the precaution to throw off their usual habiliments and character, and to assume the dress and address of gentlemen, Hadley did not recognize them, though the impression fastened itself on his mind, that he must have seen them and heard their voices before, but where and when he could not remember.
The villains, from his musing manner, half suspected that he was trying to call to mind who they were, and one remarked to the other that they had better go out and see after their horses; but it was more for the purpose of consulting about the affair they had in hand than for the good of their beasts, that they wished to leave the house. When assured that they were beyond hearing distance, said Bill to Dick:
"Well, we have treed the game at any rate."
"Yes, but I don't see as it signifies much if we have, for we can't keep him treed, nor bring him down neither, in this place."
"But we know where he is, and that is something."
"I take it, it's but little. What can we do with him?"
"Why, we can get ahead of him and select our place for the next meeting, and then—"
"How do you know that? We can't tell which road he will take."
"We'll find out, though."
"How?"
"By asking him."
"And exciting his suspicions. Yes, a pretty way of doing, certain."
"Never do you mind; leave that to me; and if we don't know all we want to know by morning, you may call Bill Mitchel a fool; and the fellow won't suspect anything, either."
"Well, go ahead, but don't make a fool of yourself, nor spoil the job we have in hand, neither."
"I'll take care for that; only you be cautious, and don't say too much, and when you do speak, throw off your rough manners and talk and act like a gentleman. I am afraid you will forget yourself, and instead of being Mr. Richard, will act the part of ruffian Dick."
"Never do you fear; 'ruffian Dick' knows what he's about, and you'll see how handsomely he can act 'Mr. Richard' to-night."
"Very well."
With this understanding between them, they returned to the inn, which, by the way, was a very primitive establishment, not only in construction, but also in the character of the entertainment.
Bill worked his card so as to draw Hadley into conversation, and incidentally, but designedly, remarked that they (himself and his companion) had passed through C—— two days before.
"Indeed!" said Hadley; "I am well acquainted in C——. Did you hear any news there?"
"Well, no, not in C——, but a little way beyond the town a horse had been stolen the night previous, which caused considerable excitement in the neighborhood."
"How far beyond was it?"
"About five or six miles, I should think."
"Did you learn any of the particulars?"
"Why, yes, pretty much all of them, I think."
"I know pretty much everybody in that region, and it may be that it was some of my friends from whom the horse was stolen. What was the owner's name, if you heard it?"
"Mandeville, I think; yes, Mandeville."
"Mandeville! I know him well. Has he any idea who took the horse?"
"I think he suspects some one for the theft—a young man that had been in the neighborhood, but disappeared the same night of the theft, and no one knew where he had gone."
"In the neighborhood," repeated Hadley, musingly, as if thinking aloud. "It must have been the stranger; and yet I thought he was gone some time ago."
"I don't think it was a stranger; they told us his name, but I do not know whether I can call it to mind or not. Let me see, I think it was Hardy or Hartly, or some such name."
At this juncture, Dick caught Bill's eye, and gave him a look, as much as to say: "What the d——l do you mean?—Are you going to excite his suspicions and send him back home to clear himself from imputation?" And Bill as plainly replied by looks: "Never do you mind. I'll fix it up right."
While these magnetic looks were exchanged between the murderous reprobates, Hadley was engaged in trying to think if there was anybody by either of the names mentioned in the vicinity where Mandeville lived, but he could remember no one. All at once the thought struck him that he himself might be the person accused, and the bare idea that such might be the case sent the blood to his heart and a cold shudder through his frame.—He was pale as marble, for a moment, and the rascals saw it. Mastering his emotions, he inquired calmly:
"The name you heard wasn't Hadley, was it?"
"No, that wasn't it. I heard his name mentioned, but they said he had started for Philadelphia the day before the theft."
At this announcement, in spite of himself, Hadley drew a sigh of relief, and as he did so Bill gave Dick a knowing look. Hadley replied:
"Perhaps the name was Huntly?"
"That's it!" said Bill; "that's the name; I remember it now."
"I should hardly have thought him capable of such a crime."
"Just what the people said, exactly."
"And to take advantage of the sickness of Mandeville's daughter, at that; I can hardly believe it of him."
"You talk precisely as his neighbors talked."
"I do not believe he is guilty; no, I am sure he is not. There are others I would suspect a thousand times of such an act before I would him."
"Well, I am sure I can't tell as to that. But, to change the subject, may I be so bold as to inquire which way you are traveling?"
"Certainly, sir; I am on my way to Philadelphia."
"I was in hopes you were going the same way as ourselves; perhaps you are; we are bound for Wheeling, Virginia.—Do you go that way?"
"No, I go by way of Pittsburgh."
"Do you tarry long at Pittsburgh? We may have to go there before we return."
"No sir. My mother is very sick at her brother's house in Philadelphia, and I shall hasten to her with all dispatch."
"Then, I perceive, we shall have to part company."
"I am sorry for that, as I should be pleased to have companionship on my lonely journey."
Having found out all that concerned his purpose, Bill changed the conversation, and all of them being fatigued with hard riding throughout the day, the three soon retired for the night. Bill and Dick roomed together, and when alone the former said:
"Didn't I do it up about the right way, Dick?"
"Better than I expected; but, —— me, if I didn't think you'd got on the wrong track once."
"I knew what I was at all the time; but I saw you were scared."
"Well, what's to be done next?"
"We must get ahead of him, and do the thing up while he is crossing the mountains, as Lieutenant Duffel suggested, and as I told you before."
"We can do that easy enough; but what do you think; shan't we make Duffel side with us in the Duval affair for putting us to so much trouble?"
"Yes, and that is one reason why I wish to get through with this job as soon as possible. We must get back in time for the League meeting somehow."
"We'll have to ride like the d——l, then; for the meeting is on Friday night week."
"Well, we must be there if it is next Friday night, and we must finish our work before we go."
"I'm with you."
"And then, if Duffel don't assist us to fix Duval, or at least, if he don't let us have our own way in the matter, we will raise Hadley's ghost before his eyes, and threaten to 'blow' on him."
"He'll do it."
"He shall do it."
"Well, as that's settled, let's go to sleep."
"Yes, for we have a hard day's ride before us to-morrow."
The shades of evening were gathering over the rugged steeps and deep dells of the Alleghanies, as two horsemen, leaving the summit of the mountains, descended to a deep, dark valley, shaded and environed by a dense growth of pine and other wood, on the eastern slope leading to the Atlantic. As they entered this dismal looking spot, one of them broke the silence by remarking:
"This is the place."
"Shall we rob him after he is dead?" inquired the other.
"Certainly. He has a pile about him; and it was for this I was trying, when he accused me of attempting to rob him, and resenting the accusation brought on the quarrel, and with it the insult. Yes, I must have his life and his money, too."
"I'm with you. But hold! What's that? Horses' feet, as I'm alive. He's coming; we must be quick to our place of concealment."
In the briefest possible time their horses led out of sight of the road, and hid away among the bushes, while the two murderers took their stand at the side of the road in ambush, to await the arrival of their victim.
They had only a few minutes to wait, when other two horsemen made their appearance, and took their stations exactly as they had done, but about a hundred yards further up the mountain.
"What the d——l does this mean?" inquired one of the other.
"I don't know, unless some others have an eye on the gold, as well as ourselves."
"That's it, I'll warrant. Good! They may do the murdering, and we'll rush up in time to secure the booty, by frightening them away. Then we can take the body to the next tavern, and tell how we came upon the robbers and murderers, just as they had finished their work.—Good! Let us get our horses nearer at hand, and be ready to dash upon them."
While the first two villains were preparing for the new phase the affair in which they were engaged had taken, as they supposed, the two who had arrived last busied themselves in making ready for some damnable work which required darkness and that secluded spot to hide it from the sight of man. We will look after them.
"Well, here we are at last," said Bill to Dick, for it was these that had arrived last. "How soon will he be here, think you?".
"In a few minutes. When I last saw him, I don't think he was to exceed half a mile behind us."
"He is coming now. Be sure of your aim."
"Better take that advice yourself."
"I intend to, for I don't want any botch work of the job."
"Think those men have got ahead far enough?"
"Yes, they were more than a mile ahead of us, and they will ride like Satan was after them through these wild glens."
"Yonder's Hadley!"
"Prepare! put your pistol close to his heart when you fire!"
"All right; do the same."
And the other two concealed villains were equally ready for action.
"There he comes!" said one. "Their attention will be taken up that way now: let us mount, and as soon as they fire, put spurs for the scene."
"Perhaps they will not use pistols," suggested the other.
"Then, as soon as they strike or spring upon him."
In a few seconds, Hadley came abreast of the villains who were lying in wait for him.
"Now!" said Bill in a hoarse whisper, and the two at once sprang upon the lone rider, and fired the contents of their pistols into his breast. He fell from his seat, with a deep groan. The murderers were about to rifle his pockets, when they were arrested in their work of robbery by the approach of the other two horsemen, and seeing their danger, hastened to mount, and left the scene of their bloody deed, at the top of their horses' speed. The others pursued for a mile or more, and then returned to look after the slain man and their booty.
"By heavens, it's not the man!" they exclaimed in a breath, as they knelt by the side of Hadley.
"As I live, it is our acquaintance of yesterday! Poor fellow, he deserved a better fate."
"He did, indeed. Let us return his kindness by seeing that he is decently buried; we owe him this much at least."
"So we do. If I had known it was him he should not have died in this way."
"Shall we go back or forward with him?"
"Forward; it is nearest that way to a hamlet."
"No; he is quite dead."
Gathering up the body of Hadley, they bore it along in silence toward the nearest habitations of men, some five miles ahead.
The two had proceeded with their burden but a short distance, when they were suddenly startled by a groan from the wounded man, who they had supposed was dead. They laid him down carefully, and one of them produced a flask, from which he poured a little brandy on his lips, and the stimulant penetrating his mouth, revived Hadley, and this, with the aid of other restoratives, soon brought him to consciousness. Seeing he was not dead, his companions now dressed his wounds as well as they could, under the circumstances. It was soon perceived that they were not of a very dangerous order. One bullet had struck a button and glanced off, leaving only a bruise on the breast; the other had penetrated the chest, but not in a fatal direction. The fall from his horse had stunned Hadley; there was also a mark on the side of his head, indicating that the horse had struck him with his foot, adding materially to the effect of the fall. After his wounds were properly dressed, he was assisted into his saddle, and, supported by his benefactors, was enabled to ride to the next village, where he received every attention, and was so far recovered in a week as to proceed on his journey. His escape was almost miraculous, and seemed a direct interposition of Providence. On the previous day he had assisted the two men out of a difficulty before a magistrate, where they were accused of the crime of setting fire to a man's house on the previous night. It so happened that they were not guilty of the act as charged, but had passed the night in question at the same inn with Hadley, who, fortunately for them, heard of the affair, and went before the magistrate and testified to the facts in the case, and by so doing cleared them. This kindness, volunteered on his part, was repaid by the men, as we have seen, though they were desperate characters, and ought to have been in the penitentiary, and, as we have noticed, went out to kill and rob some man at whom they had become offended.
Had not this train of circumstances led to the result we have chronicled, there would have been but one fate for Hadley, death; for even if the ruffians had left life in him, ere the lapse of three hours he would have been devoured by wild beasts, a pack of which, howling dismally, and thirsting for blood, crossed the road where he had lain, and licked up the few drops that had run from his bosom!
Bill and Dick were pursued, but escaped without the slightest clue to their whereabouts or identity being ascertained.
Perhaps we had as well remark, at this point, that Hadley's departure was known to but two personal friends and their families, in the Mandeville settlement, and by them was to be kept a secret, as he did not wish Duffel, or any of his supposed companions, to know of his absence until he had been gone long enough to reach his destination, for he believed Duffel was bad enough at heart to stop short of no wickedness to carry his ends, and felt fearful he might send some of his minions to waylay him. How nearly he guessed the truth! He, however, gave another reason for wishing the fact kept among his friends and though they thought a little singular of the request, they acted as desired.
Duffel overheard a part of the conversation between him and a young friend—hence his knowledge of Hadley's movements. Mandeville did not know anything about the matter until some time afterward, and this ignorance led him to suspect Hadley of the theft, as already recorded.
He and Duffel agreed to keep their suspicions to themselves, until they could get at some tangible evidence to prove Hadley guilty. This exactly suited Duffel's purpose, as it gave him just the time and advantage he desired, in order to perfect his own schemes.
How easily a few words would have exonerated Hadley in the eyes of Mandeville: and had he made a confidant of the magistrate in this second instance, those words would have been spoken, to his enlightenment, and the great relief and joy of his daughter. But, by an unfortunate combination of circumstances, the reverse was the case.
CHAPTER X.
When Duffel learned that Mr. Mandeville would not interpose parental authority to compel his daughter to acquiesce in his wishes for her in regard to marriage, he set his scheming wits to work for the purpose of devising some means whereby to accomplish his ends. As we have already said, Duffel had taken a fancy to Miss Mandeville, with whom he was better pleased than with any other lady of his acquaintance. He called his passion love, but it was too sordid and selfish to be worthy of a name so sacred. More than once he called to see Eveline, and though she treated him civilly, he saw plainly that she had an aversion for his society, and that it cost her an effort to treat him with politeness, even though it was formal; so, as we were saying, he endeavored to hit upon some more successful mode of furthering his wishes.
"If Bill and Dick were only here," he thought to himself, "the matter could be easily come at; but, as it is, I don't see my way exactly. I should not like to trust every one, even of the League, with my secret, much less with the execution of such a difficult undertaking as that of placing her there. I wish I had not sent them after Hadley; I might have accomplished all without that; and it is not the pleasantest thing in the world to have a murder laying on one's conscience. But then, I thought other means would succeed: I had no idea that old Mandeville was becoming so tender-hearted. The old devil himself must have been playing mischief with my calculations. Well, let him play away; once Bill and Dick return, and I'll try my hand at heading his sulphurous majesty, and all others that oppose me."
In this mood, Duffel found himself when the duties of his office, in the absence of the captain, required his presence at the cave, to preside over the League at the regular meeting, as already known to the reader. The night of the meeting came, and found him undecided as to the course of action to pursue. Time was short; the captain might return any day and resume command; and what was to be done must be done soon.
In this state of uncertainty, he repaired to the cave, with the vague and indefinite hope that his associates in crime might be there also. Arrived there, he began pacing up and down in a state of uneasy and restless disquiet, looking expectantly At every new-comer, but with the same result—disappointment. It was but a few minutes until the hour for business, and he retired to the captain's room to make such preparations as were necessary for the occasion.
When he returned, the members present were all masked, a rule of the order making this a duty at initiating meetings, and he could not tell whether Bill and Dick were among the number or not.
The business proceeded until the question was asked:
"Is there any one who, having knocked at the door of our order, is now waiting for admission?"
"There is, your honor, Abram Hurd, who has been found worthy of a place among us."
"Is he present?"
"He is in waiting, your honor."
"Let him be conducted into the presence of the order."
It is not our intention to enter into all the details attending the ceremony of initiation into the order, as we apprehend that a few of the leading features in the process of villain-making will be more entertaining and acceptable to the reader.
When the candidate for admission entered the cave, he found himself vis-a-vis with fifty masks, of all shapes, forms and appearances; some horrible, some odd, some commonplace, and some fantastical, and altogether, a medley of strange, undecipherable, yet impressive combination of devices, well calculated to excite a feeling of awe, and, with the timid, of terror, in the mind of the beholder. Into this singular assemblage Hurd was ushered, a wilderness of confused images before him. He was taken through a course introductory to the more serious parts of the formula of induction into the order, which were intended to increase the first bewildered impressions on entering the cave, and was then led up in front of the captain, who addressed him thus:
"Abram Hurd! by your presence here, I am to understand that you desire to become a member of our order?"
"I do."
"Have you considered well before taking this step? The duties of members are often laborious, and their performance attended with the most imminent danger! We want no unwilling hands; are you ready to incur the risks?
"Suppose the requirements exacted at your hands should cause you to look the penitentiary in the face, have you the courage to do so?"
"I have."
"But further yet; should the good of our order require you to take the life of a fellow-being, would you, in obedience to the commands of your superior, perform that extreme act?"
"I was not aware that murder was included in the catalogue of duties imposed upon members of the order."
"Nor do I say that it is; I only wish to know if you are willing to go any lengths for the preservation or advantage of the order, in case of necessity? You will mark the difference between murder and killing in self-defense. With this explanation, are you willing to take the required obligation?"
"I am."
"With the understanding, then, that you may have to face imprisonment or death and obligate yourself to do all that shall be required of you for the good of the order, even to the taking of life, including all other acts that are held criminal among men, are you still willing to proceed?"
"I am!"
"I must furthermore inform you, that if you falter in the discharge of any duty imposed upon you, or manifest the least disposition to betray the order, your life will fall an immediate sacrifice for such delinquency. Are you prepared for this?"
"I am!"
"Will you take upon yourself these obligations in the form of an oath?"
"I will!"
"The oath is a most solemn and binding one; perhaps you may consider it horrible, and we want no faltering."
"I will take it."
"It involves life and death."
"I am prepared if it does."
"You cannot release yourself from its binding force; it is for life; and whether you abide with us or not, it binds you to secrecy. No after-thought, no change of feeling, no repentance can unchain its iron links from your soul. Are you still resolved?"
"I am!"
"Let me here advise you, that one more step will place you beyond the pale of retreat. Consider well what you are about to do. Until the oath is administered, you are at liberty to retire, and, blindfolded as you came, will be escorted to a place of safety to yourself and us, where we will leave you as we found you; but once you have taken upon yourself the obligations of the oath, all is fixed and immutable. Are you yet willing to take this last step?"
"I am!"
"Enough! you are worthy to become a member of our order. Lay your right hand upon your heart, your left upon the Book, and receive the oath."
The Oath.
"I, Abram Hurd, calling heaven, earth and hell to witness, do most solemnly swear, in presence of these, my fellow-beings, and into the ears of the spirits of the invisible world, that I now take upon myself the obligation of a member of the Order of the League of Independents, as laid down in the rules ordained for the government of said Order, and explained to me this night; and I also obligate myself to obey the officers of the League who shall be appointed over me for the good government of the same, in the performance of all and singular the duties that shall be required at my hands; and I furthermore obligate myself to advance the interests of the Order to the utmost of my ability, in all things and in all ways, even to the taking of property and life, if need be; and in so doing will use all the means of aid in my reach, including fire, steel and powder. And I most solemnly swear, in the presence aforesaid, of the visible and invisible worlds, that I will faithfully keep the secrets of the Order, and of all the members of the same that shall be intrusted with me, and no torture of body or mind shall extort them from me. And I hereby bind myself, in the same solemn manner, and in the same presence, that I will defend the members of the Order in all circumstances and places, us far as in me lies, even to the giving up of my own life, if such a sacrifice shall be required—that I will stand by them one and all in every emergency, and, if occasion require, will not hesitate to give false testimony in courts of justice, to clear them in suits at law, or in criminal prosecutions, choosing rather to brave the penalties of perjury than violate this my most solemn oath. And as I faithfully perform this my oath to the Order, in whole and in part, may I prosper; but if I willfully fail in anywise, to fulfill all that I have herein obligated myself to perform, may the heavens become black above me, may the earth become thorns and thistles, and a curse to me in body and in soul; may my life be devoid of peace, and harassing care be my portion, with blight and mildew on all my hopes, and all that my hand shall touch; may my friends desert me, and my own blood rise up and curse me; may I become an outcast, among men, a wanderer and a vagabond on the face of the earth, a prey to fear, and to the lashings of conscience: and, finally, when death comes, may he send me from the tortures of this life, to those of endless perdition hereafter."
After taking this horrible and blasphemous oath, the initiated was required to sign a compact with his own blood, when he was duly pronounced a member of the Order, which might truly be termed hellish. This done, the captain said:
"Brethren of the Order, remove your masks, and welcome your brother!"
In a minute the fifty masks were cast aside, and Hurd looked around him in amazement, for in that company were more than a dozen of his acquaintances and neighbors, who passed in society—most of them—for honest men; but most of all was he surprised to see Duffel there, in the character of first officer.
All came and shook him by the hand, and to their friendly greeting he could reply to many:
"Why, A., B., C., D., are you here? and here's 'Squire F., and Constable H., as I'm alive!" and such like expressions of recognition.
When the masks were removed, Duffel had the satisfaction of seeing Bill and Dick among those present, and so soon as the League adjourned, he drew them one side, and began a confidential conversation with them; but fearing that they might be overheard, before entering upon the secrets of their own, he conducted them into the captain's room.
This room was a curious structure. Its walls were solid rock, naturally of a brownish-gray color, but had been painted in a tasteful style of art, with graceful nymphs, winged cupids, vases of flowers, and many other embodiments of fancy, or representations from nature. The effect on the beholder was pleasant and cheering at first view, but a more critical observation would lead to the conclusion that there was too much of the voluptuous in the design and execution of the penciling. In one corner of the room was a door which opened into an inner room of small dimensions, in which was a downy couch, and all the paraphernalia of a luxurious and elegant bed-room. It was a place that contrasted very strangely with the misery and crime it had sheltered—with the tears of unavailing agony that had been wrung from eyes that sparkled above once happy hearts—alas! no longer the abode of peace, hope or joy. Ah! had those walls the power of speech, what tales of horror they could rehearse! what anguish reveal! what eloquent pleadings for mercy disregarded! what silencing of hope in despair! But they reveal not the secrets of the place, which are known to but One, from whose eye no dark dells or earth-emboweled caves can hide the transgressor; and the tears, the sighs, the blood—aye, the blood—of that solitary cavern are all known to Him, are all put down by the recording angel in the archives of heaven. But we digress.
When the three confederates were securely to themselves, Duffel inquired:
"How did you succeed in that affair. Well, I hope, as you are so soon back."
"Yes, better than we expected. We passed Hadley and awaited him in the mountains. Two pistol balls were sent through his heart, and in less than an hour his body was devoured by howling and hungry wolves, from a ravenous pack of which we escaped ourselves with difficulty, so fierce had a taste of blood rendered them!"
It will be noticed that Bill drew largely upon his imagination in this brief account of their adventures, and that he never once hinted at the real truth of the matter, and how they were driven away, and had to flee for their lives. He knew that his story had the characteristics of probability; and he had an object in view in imposing on his superior, though he had no doubt at all of Hadley's fate, believing him to be certainly dead.
"So far good," replied Duffel; "but are you sure the act was undiscovered and undiscoverable?"
"Quite sure, your honor; it was dark at the time, and no one near, and therefore impossible that any one should know of the transaction."
"Very well, I am pleased with your promptness and dispatch in the execution of this plot. You shall have your reward for the diligence and faithfulness of your labors. But just now I have another affair on hand, in which I shall need your aid."
"We are your men."
"I know I can rely upon you, and that is the reason I have chosen you from among all the other members of the League to assist me."
"And you shall never regret the choice. What is the nature of the work you would have us perform?"
"I have heretofore spoken to you concerning its principal feature. It relates to a lady, and you may remember what was formerly said in regard to the matter."
"Oh, yes, perfectly well."
"Well, I wish the young lady to be taken—kidnapped—and brought to this place. Can I rely upon you to do the deed?"
"We have already pledged ourselves to that effect."
"So you did, I had forgotten. I shall soon need your services, if all things proceed as present appearances indicate that they will. When everything is ripe for action, I will inform you of particulars, and give you the necessary instructions. Till, then, meet me every day in the 'swamp,' for I may wish your aid at any moment."
"All right; we'll be there."
And thus the conference of the villains ended.