University of Virginia Library

22. CHAPTER XXII.
THE JEW'S DILEMMA.

Three days after this, we were all waiting in the cavern.
Skamp appeared punctually to his appointment.

“Where is Rabenmark?” burst from a dozen mouths.

“The boy is lost!” said the smuggler, despondingly.

“I waited, as agreed upon, for a long time,” continued
he, addressing himself to Lackland and myself,
“and still he did not come. I scoured the town. I went
to the inn and slept; determining not to give him up, if
I lost my life in the attempt. The first news that I
heard in the morning, was, that he had been discovered
and taken. I instantly resolved to repair hither, to engage
a few assistants from our band, and to rescue him
from his bondage.”

Skamp's account was heard with dismay. The heroic
determination with which he concluded, revived, however,
our courage. We swore to dare every thing to
liberate the “Fox.”

In the meantime, a scout came in from an advanced
ambush; he informed us that a carriage was approaching.

We made preparations for an attack. There was no
doubt it was the Jew.

“Alas! alas! that poor Rabenmark is not with us to
enjoy the frolic!” said one of the party.

“Are you sure of that?” cried a joyful voice; and
presently there was a rustling in the thicket, and the fox
sprang through the bushes, and stood before us.

“Welcome! welcome!” shouted a dozen voices.

“But we thought you were in prison,” said Pappenheim.

“So I have been,” was the answer.

“Well—tell us all about it directly.”

“You must know then—” began Rabenmark.

“Stop, my children!” said the phlegmatic Skamp,
“we have now no time for detail. We must act. When

we have served the Jew, (and if we are not expeditious,
it will be too late,) we shall have plenty of time to hear
the Baron's story. In the meantime, I hope his excellency
will lead on to the attack.”

The information of our spy was correct. It was, indeed,
the Jew's carriage that was now rapidly ascending
the pass. A systematic plan of attack had been laid
down—we now hastened to execute it. A few words
will tell the tale.

The carriage was surrounded—the postillions were
knocked over—some of us blindfolded and gagged them.
Skamp, in the meantime, amused himself with rifling
the carriage. It was very pretty picking, as he afterwards
informed me. There was, however, little time
lost. We dragged the imploring Jew up into the remotest
part of the forest. When we had arrived, we
blindfolded him, and then took off our masks.

The smuggler, who was an adept in all kinds of disguise,
now addressed him in a feigned voice. The Jew
was tied to a tree, and we were all seated in a semi-circle
around him. Skamp addressed him in a series of
questions. As I am in a hurry, I shall not detail them.
Suffice, that the Jew felt that he was in our power. Besides
this, we frightened him to death; and his anxiety
to save his skin, led him to confess more, and to promise
more, than he might otherwise have done. He became
aware, from the interrogations that were put to him, that
his iniquitous transactions had been revealed. He offered
large sums for his release, and engaged to do every
thing if we would not expose his guilt to the government.

Skamp produced his paper. It was a contract of marriage
between Hermann Adolphus Caspar Ulrich Count
Von Trump Von Toggenburg and Miss Judith Potiphar.

It was signed by the two parties, and only required the
signature of the father to make it complete.

The Jew, after a few remonstrances, signed the paper,
on promise that he should be released from his bondage
within twelve hours. The contract was delivered to
Trump, who immediately began to caper for joy.

Skamp next read to him a second document, which
was simply a note of hand, promising to pay the bearer
on demand for value received, the sum of ten thousand
dollars.

“Holy father Abraham!” shrieked the Jew, and nearly
fainted. “I will give you two thousand,” said he, at
last, “on condition that I am guaranteed against all disclosures
of the unhappy matters we have been conversing
about.”

“My dear good friend, Moses Potiphar,” said Skamp,
suddenly assuming his natural voice, “I have been an
attentive listener during this conference. You, probably,
recognize the familiar accents of my tongue, and so I
say no more. You can have little doubt for whose benefit
this note of hand is intended. In recompense, I can
assure you that I, in whose power you will see that you
are, will never divulge a syllable of all your d—d nefarious
transactions—transactions which every virtuously disposed
person, like myself, must always look upon with
abhorrence and disgust. I assure you that your most
iniquitous doings shall be kept secret; but in case you
refuse—”

“Well, what is the alternative, my dear good friend
Skamp?” tremblingly demanded the Jew.

“The alternative is, my dear good friend Moses, that
if you refuse—nay, if you hesitate five minutes, I will
instantly chop you into ten thousand pieces, and make
sausages of your misbegotten carcase!”

The Jew, who knew better than any one, the true and
desperate character of the smuggler, which was concealed
under such a bland and hypocritical demeanour, nearly
fell into convulsions. He eagerly demanded the paper
—signed it with a trembling hand, and delivered it to
Skamp.

The latter promised that he should be liberated, and
sent on his way in safety by the morrow's dawn.