THE CURSE OF THE CARDEWS OR AFTER THREE HUNDRED YEARS.

King Country Chronicle, Volume III, Issue 143, 29 March 1909, Page 6

THE CURSE OF THE CARDEWS OR AFTER THREE HUNDRED YEARS.

(All Rights n«ermi.)

By W. MrmiAY ali AYPON, Author of "Th«* Blackmailers." "fteapiiu; the Whirlwind." "Tbo Heir of the Loudouns," Etc. P.MIT XII. On and on he rodr. putting th< mile* fleetly behind him, until hf passed n familiar landmark that told him hi? toad covered nearlv thre«M|Morter» of Iho distance t». t'olonr] Ricardoestate. Not fa» beyond. he was keeping msious watch for the t»ridlc-|»ath. hK rant caught a vague noise ahead. Having checked the panting. per«p»ring mare, he lislnu-tl with nil hi* wnw on the alert. At once hi* fear* were verified, for he couli distinctly hear—ami the sound wa* louder and nearer —the confuted echo of voice* and the muffled drumming of many hoofs. "Il> heavens. the police !" he mutcut me ofl from the river." CHAPTER XVI. KAST IX THE TOILSTo *oy the least. Cieoflrey tins in f»n awkward position that threatened (•> frustrate hi* plan.*, which would l>e a serious misfortune o< itv Id. If otT he hail need to deride r|*tirkl> it was now, and he did so with scant forethought. He urged |"i: « - {K mm. an>l rode straight toward* the approaching danger with si temerity that was speedily justite l. <«.r a dash of a hundri*d yards hrn'is;M Itiiii to th"- l»ridl«"-patIt. It t»[w-iw-«l on the left, a narrow slit [lenet rating the s»Tiied wall of foliage. and l»nt »'>r o <ri "tidlv rnv ol moonlight he might missed itHaving pulled up and dismounted, he l»«d th<- mare n shorl distance intr the side track, and stood stroking her head and whisjwing soothing words. U>st she should make some no>»e at the critical moment. Hjiudged it saiiT to wait here than to ride «»n in the unknown darkness. The horsemen rapidly approached, and very soon, to the numl»er of hall' a do/en or more. they passed at a gallop along the highway, converging in loud but unintelligiUle torn-*. The voices and thudding hoofs gTew taint a* the little hand receded in ihe direction of San I'arinia.

' Th»' Mack polic from G.K>rgetown. to n certainty." G.-ollrey told himself. drawing a l>renth of intense relief, "and f have an idea that Colonel Kieardo was with them. He doubtless would lie, since he is the magistrate for this district. Well.'so far so good. I have nothing more to fear for the present. If they search for me. it will ln» to the aouth. I suppose they will borrow Richards'* bloodhounds, ond try to pick up my trail in the forests back of eon Parima : and in iriwhitr. if aU goes as it should. I shall lie making my way down to tie* coast." With that be mounted and rode >n hopefully, finding the second *tngr of his journey vastly different I'rom the first one. The briille;>nth IA-iag tortuous ond riiggeil. and the intermatted foliage over--»-;vd admitting scarcely a glimmer »t the moon, it was n«c>.vsnry to U-t the mnre pick her st-ps slowlv <n.| carefully. Thus it took little -h..rt of two hours to cover twice as imim iMtb-s. ond for the last mile. Kirerty having taken fright ol some url>l unoiial and bruis--d her rider iC »tn '■' the bough of a tree. Geofi. prudently walked. lie was ,i Mri fly glad when the trail ended >r..| be siood by the broad, slngruireiit of the FXsSef|llili>i. Now for the lioot." he thought. r. h- rte«| his steed to a saplingr should l>e a doA«-n miles away .- il.n tirnak." I .it there was no boat in sight. in'! Ki- elotion soon turned to de- . • ! nit Having fruitli-sslv search- : ! .i a quarter of a mile in each •i,»n uitbout finding a craft of kin.l. be returned to the startc ; tif oml aajdly thiew nn arm ■ ■-: I'rrefly's neck. Tlie mare ul•i l .i low. plaintive whinny, as -be empathised with him in his !;<* ipi-'xntnirn!. I here ought to lie a boat here, >, r.be Portuguese sai«l." hv told "No doubt some one ha* i!s-t» if to tho other silk*, and (* it there, so it will lie useless <> l-".>k further." Th-- short tropical night was nearlv si>ent. and the dawn was about t.» i.reok. The forest, which teem- •( tri'h binl ond inst'ct life, woke to un rinds of sounds. Fish begot »o »|»lnsh in the shallows, nnd hid•ons crocodile* thrust their scaly .m»ii.<* above water. A tapir shuf--I,«d down to drink, and a jaguar. 'linking to his lair with full stoniiiili. streamed far off. r«> *.«.-k B hiding-place in the vi mitv or anywhere on litis M«|e «>i i iie I would I* dangerous i. <:-,»urey well knew. \fl ther> no menus of crossing over; >• distance was too great foi ::nmii(i;. nor would that havi • , posMble had the banks been r ,i mciH-Vihrow apart, owing tt •'•■•■ i-.tv.nou.H crocoililes. I must manage it jmmehow."" hj« -.•i.|e»| 'There is no boat to Is 1 u(. the river, but I may find hi the other dire-tion before it mli h lighter. If not, I'll hav« ink. the l>est of the situation, ~ ,i be concealed in the forest til • i coinrs." ii. pressetl his cheek f«»r an in- ■ .\nt to Fir»*fly"s cobl hai » tw x »>een fond of th«- intelligent .Hu.-ii.it—and she looked wistfully of- ■•: him as he turned and strodt .;,.-.'. n trenin. Kee|»ing back a few nil-, where his footsteps rouli ;.i\. no imprint, he followed the •in.h. rtm of the shore Rapidly i. be pushed on. the spreading Muht held pace with him. Hissing i »>uU'» glided almost from undei : -. ;<■> t'er. and countless monkeys ane ; T!in»» screeched nt him from tin .i.nbisr foliage, but he had eyes ■■:;!• for the river and its swampy >rir'" The |s-Htilential whiti

mists parted ond curled upwards, the »Uy flushi*d from grev to rose nnd iiifEron. nnd the flay broke in in al'. its fresh and fragrant glory, as it bidding the hunted fugitive be ho|Kul nnd of good cheer. To Geoffrey, however, the full. rl"*nr light and the golden gleam oi the rising sun were harbingers oi peril and mislrust. He saw no boat nor any longer expected to find one. That he must be near to the borders of Colonel Rocardo's plantation he was already aware, ond when a little later he crept round n rocky promontory that formed a curve ol the shore, he stopped sudilenly ant darted behind n clump of bushes. In miil-channel. • less thon n milt distant, lay a panly-cleored island clotted with the white buildings of n rnfTee estate, which was also th« colonel's property. As he looked a whistle snorted shrilly, startling tin volley into n chorus of crhoes, and soon a small steamer hove in sight from the tipfier point of the inland It had come out of the Maxaruni nnd was bound up the Ksscquibo—doubtless to the scene of some Government labours—carrying a party of uniformed warders ond convicts in their ugly cotton garb. It ploughed swiftly on its way. am (.Yoflrey watched it with fascinating interest. •At least, thank Heaven. I am in no danger of sharing the lot of those luckli-ss devils." !»■■ reflected, "though an Knglish prison is bod enough '. But I don't mean to set the inside of that if 1 can help it. There will surely be bouts lying down yonder, opposite to the island, nnd I will lc afloat in one of them on hour after darknessfalls to-night. Meanwhile. sinc» there is no help for it, I must find n sstie place to hide through the day." That there was any chance of his pursuers searching the immediate neighbourhood for him diil not for a morn-nt enter his head, else he would have press->d on further and token sounder precautions. As it was. he in-netrn till the forest foi no umre than thirty yards, until lie was in it gloom like that of twilight, girl about by dense, overarching tree* oml vegetation. The spot was shunned even by the monkeys ond birds, and their sultducd chattering reached his ears from a distance. He crawleil on bonds nnd knees into a thicket of tall grass, looting ft ns he went for poisonous reptiles, nnd found on open «pacc at the foot of a big block of sandstone. Having greedily devour&i a few of the mai/e-cakes. he siretehed himself full length., pillowmi his head on his bag. and was quickly lull-d to sl.vp by the droning of the Insit-ts.

For nn hour Geoffrey lay there, |icacefully oblivious of his troubles ; '»iit it was a sluml»er that was destined to hnvc» n rude ond alarming ■ml. He was wakened by the noisy Marking of a dog. and as he sprang o his feet and memory flashed upon his drowsy s-nses. he saw a yellow jound leaping towards him through the high grass. He drew a revolver, but on s»-cond thoughts replared it anil vvhipixsl out instead the knife. He unsheathed it just in time <o m-et the attack. There was a quick flash of st.*l. a yelp stilled, and the hound dropped with its head severed from its body. The next instant the air was filled with clamour and shouting and the scuffle of heavy bodies forcing the thickets apart ; and then. l»efore Geoffrey hod a chonce to take to light, the forest glade swarmed with men. Pistols and rifles were pointed nt his breast, and he realised with bitter resignation that hfs esca|ie was cut off. -All right : I surrender," he said, nnd step|»ed forward with his arms raised. " You had belter." cried Colonel liicardo. who was a burly, hot-tem-|H>red man of Hutch oml Portuguese •\trnction. "I'll have you lashed for killing my d«»g. yon scoundrel." •■| couldn't help ii." re; lied Geoffrey . "He would hove bitten me." "Well. I'll ho\f- Ihe |il'ii.Nillv of stving you hanged: there is some oinfoil in that. It was an e\il •lay when you come to San Parima. Ilardinge." ''So it seems." GcoKrey odmitli-d ruefully. "However, I vves puitly prepared for this. As for hanging, if it pleases you to jest, do so : but in*. ii«fk is in no dang.-r, vvhul- ." er the nsult may lie." "It's not. eh V" exclaimed the colonel. "l»o you suppose you'll cs--op- the gallows for what you have done? A more dastardly murder I 11.-Ver lie.inl of." "Murder?" echoed Geoffrey. "He is really dead, then '.*" ' If he isn't yet. it's ten to one he will lie lief ore th'.- day is over." "I»o yon mean to tell me. Colonel Kieardo. that he has lingered all this time .since 1 " " Why, you cold-blooded hound '." eas|H-d the colonel. You are a fiend, Ilardinge. and not a man." "He is shamming insanity, sir,'' cried one of the party. With that Geoffrey was seized and Trngged hastily through the forest to the ofwn shore of the river. His captors numbered eight, and »hat they were all men who worked for the colonel —half negroes and unlf Hutch—did not at the moment occur to him as lieing strange. His arms having been bound with >a pi.i-e of ro|i«, he was searched from head to foot. Ferguson's knife and pistol—both l«-ar his name," exclaimed Colonel Iticardo. "Ami money in an envclo|ic. There is blood on the banknotes. We have caught the murderer red-handed." "I don't know anything about the blood, and I dv»n't sec what that has to do with the matter." spoke up Geoffrey. "Moreover, 1 am oni it led to some consideration. You treat me as if I was a convicted lelon. Have you got a warrant, may I Bsk ?" '•Certainly not," roared the col»l|e|. "Then you have no right to arrest me, and I refuse to go with von. I'nhand me at once, sir. Refuse n t your pcrl|." "Arc you mad. Ilardinge ?" "On the contrary, I am saner than >ou are. I know that without a warrant; not to speak of extradition proceeding*, yoti can't send uk back to Kngland.*' "To Kngland ? What is the fool talking about ?" "I am talking sense." vowed Geoffrey : "and unb-fts you" lie stopjH-d, surblenly struck by th<

puzzling fact that not one of the '.lack police <>i Georgetown to among the captor?. - I am beginning to think," he added, 'that there is some mistake. - "Vol a hit of it," declared the roloivl. "Uini't try to play innocent. Ilardinge : you are wasting your breath. Cordon Ferguson wa> felled by a coward's blow at halfpast teii o'clock last night, knocked off his horse from behind as he was riding home. And you are the man that did it." "My God !" cried Geoffrey, turning white to the lips- • • » * Not until the colonel and his n reached the river end of the bridlepath, where they met a party frm. San Parima that included T'irk Kuysdel, did Geoffrey again open his mouth* "Is it true," he asked, "that Ferguson is dangerously hurt ?" "His skull is fractured—couldn't be much worse,'- Colonel Ricardo replied. "He is alive, though?" "He was ; barely so- We have sent for a surgeon, but he can hardly arrive in titno to do any good." "And who brought word to your place ?" "The fellow was a stranger to inc. Who was he. Ruysdel ?" •1 don't know,"- declared Kuysdel. "I thought he was one of your men, colonel. It' 6 queer that he shouldn't have come first to San Parima, which was miles nearer." "There must have been two oi them." said Geoffrey. -"The one rode to the colonel's place, and the other I saw myself. He was a Portuguese, and he told me his name was Xavier Castro. Find thes. men. and you will find the real assailants of Gordon Fcrguuon." With this statement—which was naturally received with angry scorn. Geoffrey' lapsed into silence again. All the party were mounted—the I ci-loncl and his men had tied their j hoises at the bridle-path—and when the start was made it fell to the prisoner's lot to ride Firefly. He was taken straight to Colonel lUrardo's plantation, and thrust into an outbuilding near the bungalow. The floor was closed and locked upon him. and he was lelt to solitude and his bitter thoughts. "God help me!" he said to himself, as he sat down on a bench that stood by the wall. " This is such a terrible misfortune that 1 can scarcely yet realise it. 1 can prove nothing though I see rlearly how it happened. With devilish cunning and forethought, the real criminals—the two men who waylaid and robbed poor Ferguson dies I shall be hanged. I am utterly helpless. If 1 thought that it would do any good 1 would lav bare mv past life and tell the whole truth. It would be useless, however :no one would ljelieve a word of my story'- So whv not keep silenco to the end ? Yes ; 1 will do that : my determination is fixed. If I must die. or perchance. go to that living hell on the Mazaruni, it shall be as .Julius Hardinge, and none will over be the w i.ser—no ono will linki the name of Geoffrey Cardew with a foul murikr." Afterwards he wondered by what possible means the man Castro could have known that he was a fugitive from English justice, and therefore in fear of arrest and extradition ; but to that puzzling c|uestion he could find no answer. CHAPTER XVI r. THE BRAND OF THE ARROW. Through the greater part of the dry season Geoffrey languished In the hot, stuffy prison at Georgetown, whither he was conveyed very shortly after his arrest. Alone and friendless, in the shadow of the gallows, and in ignorance of what was happening outside, the weeks draggo* I by like so many months, and the bitterest part of each day—a brief interval crowded with torture —was when, in the cool eventide he-list-ned to the band playing in the llotanical Gardens, the distant strains of which iienetrated his cell. They stung him almost to madness, intensified his longing for freedom, vet could not alter the determination he had made when a prisoner at Colonel Ricardo's plantation. Meanwhile, Gordon Ferguson, alter a hard fight for life and a long convalescence, had regained his physical vigour, and lost a chapter out of the past : for the injury to» his brain had destroyed his memory up to a certain point, and he could recall nothing previous to the treacherous blow that had hurled him bleeding and unconscious from the saddle. This piece of news was made known to Geoffrey one morning in October, as was also the fact that his trial was fixed for a week later. It cheered him somewhat to learn that his neck was no longer in danger, and that Ferguson had recovered, though the lattcr's inability to throw any light >n the crime—he might otherwise have cleared the accused man—was a matter of regret and anxiety. As Geoffrey had no money, he j would in due course have been defended by some one appointed by the court ; but almost at the last moment funds were provided from j mysterious source, and entrusted to a young lawyer, who consulted with the prisoner in his cell. Ho •Irparwd no wiser than he came, and with the conviction that his task was hopeless ; for beyond as--erling his entire innocence Geoffrey had obstinately refused to explain the array of circumstances that pointed so strongly to his guilt. *" Hrltibh Guiana being a Crown colony, the methods of justice were Ih-yond reproach, and judge and prosinrutor were upright, fair-minded Englishmen. Jim the outcome m lhe trial was a foregone conclusion. The province of Dcmeiara is a tat cry from London, ami these wi-iy none in Georgetown who had any knowledge of the prisoner's past. of what he had t>een before hj? called himself Julian Ilardinge. Gordon Ferguson's testimony—ht was pne of the few witnesses called —was of no value either way, being confined to a simple statement of the loss of memory. He left tht court while the trial was proproceeding, and as ho passed out he turned his eyes upon Geoffrey with a vague, jnr/./.l -d expression a: if his mind was groupinir fors.>!i,c- j thing that it could not lind. i (To be Com inued ..