THE ROBBERS' CAVE.
| There's ae thing yet; there's twa things yet, |
| To brag on that ye know; |
| They never, never failed a friend, |
| And never feared a foe.—Nicoll. |
We left Sybil sleeping on her sylvan couch, in the cavern chamber of her nameless hostess. She slept on as they sleep who, being completely conquered by mental and bodily fatigue, surrender unconditionally to Nature's great restorer.
Late in the afternoon she awoke, much refreshed in mind and body, though at first somewhat confused as to her "local habitation." But the voice of her strange hostess at once restored her memory and self-possession.
"You have slept long and well," said the girl. "I have been in here half a dozen times at least to look at you, and always found you fast asleep. You never even changed your position. I think you must feel much better."
"I feel very well, thank you, if only I could hear from my husband," replied Sybil.
"Always the same subject! that is stupid and tiresome. But I can tell you about your husband. He is just now at the Haunted Chapel, waiting for the constables to go away, so that he may resume his search for you."
"Poor Lyon! But how do you know this?"
"Moloch, who has just come in, told me."
"'Moloch!' You have mentioned that name several times. Who is Moloch?"
"The lieutenant of the band. Belial is the adjutant. Satan is the captain, but we seldom see him. He is a very fine gentleman, of the very first society. I have no doubt that you have met him often in the drawing-rooms, of wealth and fashion."
"Good Heaven! girl, what story is this that you are telling me?"
"The very truth. Satan is a gentleman. Belial also is no stranger to good company. Hem! they were both at your masquerade."
"Both at—!" gasped Sybil, losing her breath in astonishment.
"Your masquerade! Yes, for I tell you that they are both men of fashion and pleasure. As for poor old Moloch, he is just what he seems—a rude, rugged robber! And then there is Vulcan."
"But who are these men?" inquired Sybil, recovering her lost breath.
"I told you. Gentlemen in the drawing-room! Robbers on the highway."
"But why do you give them such diabolical names?"
"Because they are devils, each in his way! Moloch is a brutal and ferocious devil; Belial is a smooth, deceitful devil; and Satan is an intellectual and commanding devil."
"What are their right names?"
"It would be hard to tell! Each one having a score of aliases at his disposal."
"I hope I shall not be obliged to see any of these wretches!" imprudently exclaimed Sybil.
"They are devils, not wretches, if I know them and know the meaning of words! But reflect, madam, that to these wretches, as you call them, you owe your liberty and perhaps your life," said the elfin-like hostess, resentfully.
"My liberty! And here I am a captive among you."
"Only for a time; only until we can place you in perfect safety on a foreign shore. And that we are sworn to do. And is not this comparatively honorable captivity; better than the degrading one of the county jail?"
Sybil paled and shuddered through all her frame as she answered:
"I should be grateful for all this—but—but—my husband!"
"Oh, bother, there it is again! Always the same mew! If there's anything in the world makes me feel ill, it is a love-sick woman!" exclaimed the strange girl. But her short-lived anger quickly disappeared, and holding out her tiny brown hand to her guest, she said:
"Come, get up and wash! There is some fresh water and clean towels. And there is a change of clothing, if you wish to have it. And here am I, to serve as your lady's maid. And when you are dressed, there will be a dinner ready for you, of which I may say that the Govenor of the State will not sit down to a better one to-day."
Sybil gave her hand in token of reconciliation, and then arose from her couch of leaves. Very glad was she of the opportunity of washing and changing her dress; for of all the petty privations that were mixed up with her great troubles, she felt most the want of fresh water and clean clothes.
The girl waited on her kindly and skilfully. And Sybil would have been well pleased had she not, in taking up one of the fresh damask towels, saw on it the initials of her friend Beatrix Pendleton. She held it up to the view of her hostess, and looked inquiringly.
"Yes, to be sure! we wanted face towels, and they brought away a dozen or so of them from a house they recently visited. But you cannot help it. I advise you to make the best of everything," said the girl, answering the look.
Sybil said not a word in reply; but she thought within herself, "I am forced to consort with thieves, and to use their stolen goods; but I will profit by nothing which I shall not make good to the owner; and so as soon as I shall be freed, I will privately send Miss Pendleton a fourfold compensation."
And thus, having satisfied her conscience, Sybil took her hostess' advice, and made "the best of everything."
When she was thoroughly renovated by a complete change of clothing, every article of which she recognized as the property of Miss Pendleton, her strange hostess conducted her into the spacious and beautiful cavern that has been already described.
There was a large round table set in the middle of the floor, covered with a fine white damask cloth, and furnished with a heterogeneous service of the richest silver plate, the most delicate Sevres china and the coarsest earthen ware and rudest cutlery. There were plates laid for about a dozen persons. Around the table were seats as miscellaneous in quality as was the service; there were three-legged stools, stumpy logs of wood set on end, one very large stone, and one elegant piano chair.
"We always eat our great meal of the day in this place. You would call it dinner; we call it supper, but it is all the same," said the girl.
"Oh!" exclaimed Sybil, looking in dismay at the many plates—"Oh! have I got to meet all these horrid men?"
"Yes, my lady! You must meet these horrid men who have saved you! They do not often have the honor of a lady's company to supper, and they will not dispense with yours now," replied the elfin hostess, sarcastically.
A shudder ran through Sybil's frame; but she rallied all her strength to resist the creeping terror.
"These thieves are men, after all," she said to herself. "They are not beasts nor devils, as their companion calls them; they are human beings, why should I fear them?" And she spoke very cheerfully to her hostess, inquiring:
"When do you expect your companions in?"
"They drop in at any time in the evening. Some of them will be here soon, and then we will have supper."
The darkening of the cave now indicated that the sun was setting. And soon the wild hostess clapped her hands and called in her pale attendant to light up the cavern. And the phantom vanished for a few moments, and then returned with two tall silver candlesticks, supporting two such large wax candles that Sybil saw at a glance that they must have been stolen from the altar of a Catholic chapel. And she shivered again at perceiving that she was the guest of the worst of outlaws—sacrilegious church-robbers! But soon her attention was attracted by the splendor of the scene around, when the stalactite walls of the cavern, lighted up by the great candles, emitted millions of prismatic rays of every brilliant hue, as if they were encrusted with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, amethysts, topazes, and carbuncles, all of the purest fire.
"Splendid, is it not? What palace chamber can compare to ours?" inquired the girl, on observing the evident admiration with which her guest gazed upon the scene.
Before Sybil had time to reply there was the heavy trampling of feet near at hand, and the next moment four rough looking men entered the cave.
Involuntarily Sybil shrank closer to her hostess, as they passed near her. But not one of them either did or said anything to alarm or offend her. Each one, in his turn, gruffly greeted her by nodding, as he pulled off his hat and threw it into a corner, and then seated himself at the table.
The elfin girl clapped her hands, and when her attendant appeared, she ordered that supper should be immediately brought in.
Meantime Sybil furtively observed the four robbers, but one of them especially fascinated her gaze, with something of the terrible fascination that the boa-constrictor is said to exercise upon the beautiful birds of the Brazilian forest.
He was a great red-haired and red-bearded giant, whose large limbs and coarse features had well earned for him the nick-name of "Moloch;" and Moloch, Sybil instinctively knew this man to be. The other three were ordinary, hirsute, dirty ruffians, upon whom she scarcely bestowed a glance. Her eyes continually reverted to Moloch, from whom she could not long keep them. He was huge, ugly, brutal, ferocious; but he commanded attention, if only from the power that was within him.
But what terrified Sybil the most was this—that her own fascinated eyes at length attracted his, and he looked at her with a devouring gaze that made her eyelids fall and her very heart sink within her.
The two women—the dark and shrivelled old Hecate, and the pale, cold Proserpine—now brought in the supper. And as the elfin hostess had declared, a more luxurious meal did not grace the table of the State's Governor that day. There were green-turtle soup, rock fish, ham, wild turkey, and partridges, with every variety of vegetables and of condiments. And there were pies, puddings, custards, and pastries of every description. And jellies, jams, and fresh and preserved fruits, of every sort. And there were priceless wines, and fragrant coffee and tea. All these luxuries were placed at once upon the supper table, or a side table in full view of the company.
"We have no printed bill of fare," laughed Sybil's strange hostess; "but the fare itself is before you!"
"Let the lady be seated in the place of honor," growled Moloch, glowering at Sybil with his dreadful eyes.
"Which means the piano stool, I suppose," said the strange hostess, taking Sybil by the hand, and leading her to the seat in question.
She suffered herself to be put into it; but the next instant she was horrified by the insolence of Moloch, who deliberately arose from his seat and came around and placed himself beside her, and laid his great hand upon her shoulder.
"You are handsome," he said "Do you know it? But of course you do. The swells have told you so a many times."
"Don't touch me!" said Sybil, shrinking from him.
"Now don't put on airs. You're one of us, you know, and so we'll 'fend you to the last drop of blood in our weins. Only don't put on airs; but be kind to them as are kind to you," growled the brute.
"But take your hand away—please do. I cannot bear it!" cried Sybil, shrinking farther off still.
"Why, now, if you only knowed what this here hand have done in your sarvice, you'd fondle on to it, instead o' flinging it off like it was a wasp," coaxed the ruffian, stealing his arm around her neck.
But Sybil, with a sudden and violent gesture, cast it off, and started to her feet, seizing the knife beside her as a weapon of defence.
"Lord bless your pretty little soul, what's the good of that? Why, when I was a lad, I always liked to tease the kittens best that spit and scratched and fit the most! That only makes me like you better. Come now, sit down alongside o' me, and let's be good friends," said the ruffian, throwing his arms around Sybil, and forcing her into her seat.
"Stop that, you devilish beast! Let the lady alone!" cried Sybil's nameless hostess, in a voice of authority.
"Don't be jealous, my darling," replied Moloch, tightening his clasp around Sybil's waist.
"Men! why don't you interfere? He is rude to the lady!" cried the girl, appealing to the others.
"We never meddle between other men and their sweethearts. Do we, mates?" called out one.
"No, no, no!" answered the others.
"Oh, if Satan were here!" cried the girl in despair.
"Satan is here!" responded a voice close by.
And the robber captain stood among them as if he had risen from the earth!
Moloch dropped Sybil, and cowered in the most abject manner.
Sybil looked up, and turned cold from head to foot; for in the handsome, stately, graceful form of the brigand chief, she recognized the finished gentleman who, in the character of "Death," had danced with her at her own Mask ball, and—the probable murderer of Rosa Blondelle!