The pale face lighted up a moment with pleasure, and, as she turned toward the child, and laid her white dimpled hand on Alice’s brown hair, she looked quite like a living being. “I do not know, little one,” she answered; “I never was this way before. I wish I did know where we are,” she continued, sadly, with a wistful glance at the half-closed door.
“It is only a little way from here,” said Harris, soothingly; “see, the moon is coming out already, and we shall soon be on our way.” And taking a small compass from his pocket, he adjusted it in the window frame, as if to shape the course he should take when he left. “Go and unfasten the boat,” he said, peremptorily, to one of the men, “and bring up my mantle for your mistress. Quick, man,” he added, as the man hesitated; “are you afraid of the moonshine?” and, impatiently opening the rough door, he gazed upon the hurrying clouds and the straggling moonbeams, that half lighted the broken rocks near the dwelling.
The man returned from the water with a large, heavily-embroidered mantle, the deep gold-tipped fringe almost sweeping the floor as he threw it over his shoulders to see if it was uninjured. At last they left, just as the gray dawn was breaking. Veale, who seemed to be chief assistant, gave a signal, and the four men marched rapidly down to the water. Harris threw a purse of gold upon the table, and followed Veale, who bore the lady from the house wrapped in the rich mantle.
Wallace looked after them with a dubious, thoughtful look clouding his honest brow. It was long before he heard again from the mysterious visitors, but he kept a more vigilant watch for passing vessels, and answered more readily to unexpected calls than before.
At last they came again. It was night, as before; the pale full moon was shedding its pure radiance over the sleeping earth. He was not startled this time. He was alone in the house, and three heavy knocks were heard upon the outer door. They soon entered the house. Four strong, dark-looking men, bearing a huge box that seemed heavy with something more than its own weight, or the strong irons that bound it, and, as it reached the floor, a dull ring from the inside told a strange tale of darkness. But the men spoke not, except in monosyllables, and Wallace forebore to question them.
As soon as they had found a place for the box, they left, and, after being gone some time, returned with another, corresponding in size with the first, but apparently lighter and less firmly secured. As they placed it upon the floor the spring (for there were few locks in those days) flew open, revealing rich dark silks, with heavy gold lace trimmings, small wrought cases of ebony or ivory, and beautiful ornaments of all kinds. They appeared to be not in the least disconcerted, but closed the box again with a loud noise, just as Harris entered with a stranger clad in Spanish citizen’s dress. There was a striking contrast in their looks, as Harris raised the elegant bandit cap from his high, white brow, and passed his delicate fingers through the short, clustering curls, and the stranger flung his heavy slouched hat upon the floor beside him, and stroked his thick, black moustachios with his sun-browned hand.
“We must arrange this matter as quick as practicable,” said Harris, in an undertone, apparently continuing their former conversation. “If you have any papers of consequence, I shall expect you to give them up. You can take a small tract of land somewhere near here, or when we go back to the continent you can return; but you will be obliged to keep it constantly in your mind that dead men tell no tales, and living ones are not allowed to; do you understand?” and the youthful leader of that strong band looked fearlessly upon the dark face beside him.
A low mutter of dissatisfaction escaped the swarthy Spaniard as he said, “I want none of your bribes; I want my honest pay.”
“Ah! and how much?” said Harris, carelessly.
“Four thousand roubles, which will just pay my forfeiture, and let me back to my own country,” was the gloomy reply.