The Scales of Justice.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8502, 3 August 1907, Page 2

The Scales of Justice.

CHAPTER V.—Continued. The Mexican worked on doggcdly without louking up from his toil. The queer little man was as cool as if he had been a navvy working in a ditch. And yet there was an air about him of dogged faithfulness that was pathetic. It spoke of deep devotion to his master. His voice shook a little as be spoke. "The letter was sent to my lodgings," he said, never ceasing his tcii. "I was to find some way of conveying it to you down here. It was for your sake, master, and I obeyed without asking any questions. For two days I have been studying the lay of the land here. And all the time I have been working in another direction." "I understand, my faithful Garcia," the convict said. "You mean that you have never given up the attempt to prove my innocence. And I d m innocent. A fool I was, but dishonourable and dishonest, never. The Maker of us all, Who has laid this heavy burden on me for his inscrutable purposes, knows that I am innocent. As you say, to escape only tacitly confesses my crime. But something is happening to one whom I love better than life itself. The letter told me that. If I die in the attempt, I must try to get away now. That I will be taken agnin is inevitable. My good Garcia, you must help me!" The little Mexican nodded. All the time he had not paused in the mechanical labour of tossing gravel out of the hole. He was scheming a plan. The convict watched him with some impatience. It was hard for the man of action to feel that he was helpless as a little child. "I can get my master away from here quite easily," the Mexican said. "We have been in tighter places in Mexico together, you and I. I have a plan "- "Yes, yes. Eut no violence, mind. I will not be a party to anything of tb.2 sort. There is only- one warder watching over this gang. He must not be hurt." "He shall not be hurt," Garcia said coolly. "A dramatic surprise, a shock, and perhaps a trifle of personal discomfort, what are they? Better men than yonder guardian with the rifle have suffered worse things. It shall be done, master." "And you think that you can give me a good chance to gain the woods yonder? Well, all I ask is a fair field and no favour. If I am taken again to-morrow or sooner perhaps, I shall not mind so much. There is something before me which must be done to-night. It will be very late before my task is done. Do you know where she is, Garcia? The little Mexican nodded as he proceeded with his task. "Not far off," he said, "I do not understand—that fiend is too cunning for me. And yet I fancy that; the young lady is safe; any way, there are other people about her—an old lady and her" daughter, with faces like angels, both of them. One looks like the Madonna in the chapel at San. Lucar. where I was born. If " " Never mind that now," the convict interrupted. "We will talk 'about that another time. Give me some idea of how you are going to get me away. It is very foggy beyond the marshes. If I could only reach the woods.l might succeed yet. What I want you to do is to close the eyes of the warder for a few minutes, and " "That lean manage," the Mexican whispered. "Look over the edge of the pit When I am gone, and when you have finished counting a hundred slowly " "Ah, I understand what you mean. Give me your long overcoat and cap. Go on with your spade-work." The coat and cap were passed over; the coat, a long one, reaching below the convict's knees. He removed his stockings, and rubbed his bare legs with the wet gravel till they were brown. As he stood up he might have passed in the gathering glfiom for a sportsman coming back from a day's shooting or golf, with his big coat over his knickerbocker suit. Then he fell to the pitching of the gravel again, whilst the little man crept out of the hole. The half-caste kept close to the ground like a hare; he worked his way to the back of the rampart, where the warder stood like a statue; something long the little man removed from about his waist. There were two thongs at the end of the line, and a heavy iron \ve r ght at the termination of each. The little man stood up now, for he was secure from observation. There was an uneasy grin on his face as he whirled his line round his head. Then he ca3t it forward with a dexterous jerk, and immediately began to run violently in a contrary direction. Before the warder knew what had happened the thongs of the lassoo had wrapped murderously round his throat; the iine lengthened simultaneously with the full weight of the half-caste's flying body, and then : without a sound, the warder rolled over the rampart. The convict, with his eyes over the edge of the hole, saw the apparent miracle done without the least feeling of astonishment. He knew exactly what would Happen now. Before the half-strangled warder had recovered his senses he would be gagged and bound by Garcia, who could be very well trusted to make his escape. The mists were falling thicker now; there would be nobody to bar the way. But not more than haH-an-hour could elapse before the thing was discovered; still, much, might be accomplished in that time. The convict scrambled out of the hole; he strode across in the direction of the marshes. Strangers found their way there by accident sometimes, so he passed

By FREB If-' WHITS, [Published By Special Arrangement.] [Ai,l Eights Reserved.]

without notice. A minute later and the friendly mists hid him altogether. ;\..Then he gathered up* the skirts of his long coat and began to run. He had an object in view, and he ran in a straight line. For three-quarters of an hour lie sped on, until he was in a warm glow from head to foot; the sense of weariness andiatigue fell from him—he was a mail again,, with a grim purpose before him. An hour passed, and through the mists came no boom of guns to show that a convict was ingHe paused at length when he came to a properly-made roadway fringed with woods. Where the road forked was a sign-board bearing the information that Longtown wa l j distant five miles and the village of Grange barely two. It was all that the convict needed. He knew that he had only to pass through the wood and strike the Moat on the far side. But not yet, not till quite late in the evening. He struck into the road until he came to a small stack of barley, placed there by a keeper for the benefit of Sir Devereux Drummond's pheasants. Into this the fugitive burrowed deep, for he would be cold enough before he had finished his long vigil. He pressed his coat close to him, he dived his hands into the pockets. Something tinkled in the one, something rattled in the other. The convict's eyes gleamed. He had come upon a pocket of cigarettes and a box of matches. The luxury of it, after two years in that dreary hell yonder! There was something cheering and.inspiring in the tobacco. The man lingered lovingly over his cigarettes, smoking but two very quietly, till he heard a dock somewhere strike eight. At the same time a distant, sullen booming came over the marshes from the gaol. "Well, they have given me plenty of latitude," the convict muttered. "I might have got half-way to London by this time provided I had the money. Well, after the next few hours are over, it wili not matter whether they take me or not. Poor little girl—poor little girl!" The leaden minut.s passed, and at intervals the gu.i boomed out. Presently it seemed to the watcher that he could hear voices on the edge of the wood. He drew back into the straw as the thought became a certainty, and two keepers passed along. A third man rose and accosted them. "What are you doing here" the first keeper demanded suspiciously. "In the King's name," came the reply. "One of the convicts has got away. If you have seen anything "Well, we haven't. You'll do'no good coming here disturbing the squire's pheasants, and he is going to shoot these very woods only the day after to-morrow. There are three of us watching here for poachers, and if one of your gang comes this way why we'll take your place for you and secure him." The convict lay in the straw till the sound of the intruders died away. He had been very near to recapture, but good fortune had aided him. But, at the same time, now he was conscious of a double danger. Not only had he to think of the warders, but the keepers also were his foes. So might the poachers be if he met them. For an hour or more he lay still and snug in the straw until it was safe to venture out. He stood in the road presently, eager, panting, and alert. He passed along, sheltering himself from sight in the shadow of the ditch till he came to a place where four roads crossed. There was a thicket of hawthorn in the centre, and before this he stopped. "This must be the place mentioned in the letter," he muttered. "Four guide-posts and a little stunted tree. And it must be quite ten o'clock by now. I hope the messenger will not keep me long. Oh, the'maddening suspense of this waiting!" (To be continued.)