University of Virginia Library

22. CHAPTER XXII.
AN OLD FOE IN THE FIELD.

I WAS so astonished, so taken by surprise, and withal
experienced such an overwhelming rush of joy, that for
some moments I stood speechless and motionless, gazing
upon my friend, and almost doubting the reality of what
I saw. Then handing the torch to Walter, I gently drew
Harley from his sepulchre, cut the cords that bound him,
and removed the gag from his mouth. He looked up in
my face while I was doing this, and never, never shall I
forget the expression of unspeakable joy and gratitude
which lighted his pale features. He essayed to speak;
but the transition from death to life, from life to liberty,
had been too sudden, too unexpected, for his now weak

nerves to sustain the almost heart-bursting emotions, and
he fainted.

Both Walter and I were now alarmed lest this “counterfeit
presentment” should prove to be death itself; and
we eagerly set to work, chafing his limbs, blowing our
breath into his lungs, and rolling him from side to side,
for we knew not what better to do.

At length Walter exclaimed:

“He lives! he lives!” and almost at the same instant
Harley drew a long, gasping breath, and opened his eyes.

As before, he fixed them upon me; and then feebly
raised his hands, as if for an embrace. I bent quickly
down, and he clasped them around my neck; and both of
us burst into tears—the only vent we could find for our
over-charged feelings. Harley was the first to speak;
but his voice was feeble, and trembled with the deepest
emotion.

“Harry,” he said, “this is not the work of chance—
God has done it.”

“Yes, my friend,” I replied, with a fresh burst of feeling,
“God has done it;” and silently, from our hearts,
then and there, locked in each other's arms, ascended fervent
thanksgiving to the Throne of Grace.

It was some time ere we could subdue our emotions so
as to hold any conversation; but as we began to grow
more calm, I said:

“My dear friend, pray tell me how it is I find you
here? for though Warncliff doomed me to an awful death,
I did not dream he would carry his ferocity so far as to
bury you alive, though you were my friend.”

“This was not the work of Warncliff, Harry.”

“Ha! whose then?” demanded I, quickly.

“The work of one who has good reason to hate us both.”

“Well! well! say on!”

“Count D'Estang.”

“Good heavens!” cried I, in astonishment; “you do
not mean to say that you have been in the power of that
man, Morton?”

“It is too true: he is the Captain-General of a banditti,
which numbers I know not how many, and of which Warncliff
is merely a subordinate officer.”

“You astonish me, Morton!” cried I; “not in saying
that D'Estang is a bandit chief—for that we knew before;
but with the fact that his head-quarters are now here—
that you should so singularly have been thrown into his
power—and that Warncliff belongs to the same band of
desperadoes which assailed us once before. But go on—tell
your story. Yet stay! perhaps we are not safe here!”

“I think we are for the present, Harry—though it will
not be prudent for us to delay our departure too long.”

“But where are the freebooters now?” inquired Walter.

“From some conversation I overheard between D'Estang
and Warncliff, I think they have set off on an expedition
to join the Mexicans,” replied Harley.

“Ah! we feared so,” said I, with a sigh, as my thoughts
reverted to poor Clara.

“And yet I think we have no reason to regret their
hasty departure, be it for what destination it may,” rejoined
Harley; “for even in this I see the mysterious working
of Providence for our good.”

“How so?”

“Why, had they remained here, in all probability you
would have fallen into their clutches; and I, to say the
least, might have expired under the horrible doom from
which you have rescued me.”

“It is even so,” said I, thoughtfully. “God works for
the best; and instead of repining, we should rather be
thankful that matters are no worse than they are; though
not to complain—not to wish things otherwise, be our circumstances
what they may, good or bad—would be to

prove ourselves exceptions to the human race generally.
But pray go on with your story, Morton!”

“Rather let me hear yours first,” he replied; “and
how I find you and Walter so mysteriously standing together
here, when you at least I believed beyond the pain
of mortality.”

“There is little of mystery in my case, though much of
Providence,” I answered; and I proceeded to narrate the
striking events with which I had been connected since our
separation; how I had been executed, cut down by Walter,
and restored to life; how we had followed the trail of our
foes, day after day; and finally, how we had been led to
find this secret cavern, together with the unaccountable
impulse which had impelled me, even against reason, to
enter it, and so save the life of my dearest friend.

“Wonderful! wonderful!—Fate! Fate!—Providence!
Providence!—God! God!” were the several ejaculations of
Harley, as I concluded my narration. “Oh, man! man!”
he apostrophised: “One of God's most wonderful machines!
when will knowledge, emanating from the Supreme Fount,
enable thee to understand thyself? Do you remember,
Harry,” he continued, “the strange presentiments we both
had of the near approach of Death? Ah! we truly
heard the rattling of his bony tread; we have since seen
him face to face; and yet we stand on mortal ground, in
mortal form, to tell it. Wonderful! most wonderful!” and
he relapsed into a fit of abstraction, something similar to
those exhibited in our early acquaintance, as described in
“Viola.”

I addressed him several times without getting an answer,
and in fact without his comprehending a word I said; and
it was not till I had shaken him somewhat severely, that
he seemed recalled to himself. At length he looked up
and around, with a start of surprise, and said, hurriedly:

“Where am I? where am I?” And then, without

giving me time to reply, as hurriedly proceeded: “Ah!
I see—I understand—my mind has been wandering again
—the old disease. I thought myself rid of it. God send
I may never lose my reason!—that a mental night of utter
darkness may never settle upon my senses!” and as he
spoke, a visible shudder passed over his frame.

“Do not be alarmed, Harry!” he continued, noticing
the expression of anxiety which had fixed itself upon my
features. “Do not be alarmed! I feel better now. My
head did feel strangely—but the awful sensation is passing
away. Ah! let me see! I was telling you something of
myself, was I not?”

“You were about to tell us of what has happened, to
your knowledge, since we were parted by our foes?”

“True! true! I was about to tell you; you are right.
Well, I will tell you now; and then we must hasten our
departure; for I do not think it prudent nor safe to remain
here longer than is necessary. The blood begins to circulate
in my late corded limbs; and in a short time I trust
to be able to leave this cavern of death forever.”

“It is not necessary, I suppose, to describe our journey
hither,” pursued Harley; “and therefore I will commence
by saying, that we arrived here in the afternoon of yesterday—the
Colonel and I both bound, as when we separated
from you.”

“But Clara!” exclaimed I: “first tell me of Clara!
was she not with you?”

“Yes, she travelled with us, closely guarded; but
neither her father nor myself were allowed to speak to
her, nor she to us.”

“But she was not bound, Morton? do not tell me that
Warncliff carried his ruffianism that far?”

“She was not bound in the day-time,” replied Harley;
“but I think some restraint was put upon her limbs at
night.”

“And how was she treated?”

“I saw no violence offered to her on the journey; nor
were the Colonel and I maltreated, otherwise than in being
kept bound and close prisoners.”

“Well, proceed!”

“When we arrived here, we were met by another strong
party of brigands; who, from the manner in which they
greeted Warncliff and his men, led me to infer that we
were expected. We were conducted to the foot of the
rocks below here, and were then raised to the platform
above by means of ropes. We were thence escorted into
the cavern; where, to my surprise and dismay, I found
myself confronted with D'Estang. He bowed with mock
politeness, and smiled; but such a smile! I shudder now at
the remembrance of it: for concentrated hate and devilish
malignity, Satan himself might have envied it.

“ `So, Mr. Harley,' he said, `we meet again: I am glad
to see you.'

“ `I do not doubt it,' was my reply; nor did I: he
evidently was glad to see me: but, much to my regret, I
was not in a condition to return the compliment.

“ `Yes,' he pursued, `when we last saw each other,
I think you had a little the advantage of me—now the
tables are turned.'

“ `If you use your advantage as moderately as I did
mine, I will not complain,' said I.

“ `Let me see!' he replied; `you were very moderate,
I think. You and your companion entered my premises
like a couple of thieves; and besides making me a prisoner
in my own dwelling, locking me up in a dungeon, you bore
away my intended bride, and her reputed father, on my
own horses. Very moderate you were, indeed!'

“ `Our own safety compelled us to do so,' I replied;
`but so soon as we had escaped, we left your horses where

you could get them, and sent to have you released from
confinement.'

“ `I believe you did; and I suppose you think I ought
to thank you on my knees for your generosity. But if
I remember rightly, you bore off the girl Viola?'

“ `And made her my wife,' said I.

“ `Ah! yes—made her your wife—for which you doubtless
think I should be very grateful also. Now if the girl
were here, so that I could return your generosity in kind,
I think I could easily prevail upon myself to do it; but as
she is absent, I shall be under the necessity of paying my
debt of gratitude to you in some other way—not forgetting
the interest, which having been some months accumulating,
must of course be added to the principal. Let me see!
you locked me in a dungeon, and carried away my intended
bride, making her your own, and getting a fortune for your
trouble. I cannot do the same by you, for a sufficient
reason; but so far as I can do, I will do. You locked me
up in a dungeon, and afterward gave orders to have me
liberated. Now I will place you in a dungeon, and give
no such directions for your release. And as I think there
is still a balance in your favor, I will endeavor to make up
the deficiency by allowing you to remain there for life.

“I shuddered at the thought—I could not help it.

“ `There—no thanks!' he pursued, mockingly, with another
fiend-like smile. `I must be permitted to equal you
in generosity—it is my nature. I do not like to owe debts
of this kind, especially when it is in my power to pay
them. And, by-the-by,' he continued, `I will add to my
kindness in this way. Lest in trying to get out you should
bruise yourself against the unfeeling stones, I will confine
your limbs by cords; and for fear you may injure your
lungs and voice, by trying them too much, I will have a gag
put in your mouth; and that the presence of others may

not be an aggravation to you, thus deprived of the power
of speech, all shall be removed; and in perfect solitude
and silence, you shall wait the coming of death to take you
heavenward. You see, therefore, I am disposed to be
careful of you, and you ought to be grateful.'

“As he concluded, the bandits, who had gathered
around to listen to my sentence, set up a shout of horrid
laughter that made my blood run cold. Despair now
seized upon my heart, and I felt as if I should sink to the
earth. I thought of Viola, and my agony was complete;
and, in spite of myself, I believe I uttered a groan.

”D'Estang calmly enjoyed his triumph for a few moments;
and then turning to Colonel Moreland, addressed
him in a sterner tone than he had used toward me—though,
being devoid of irony, it sounded not half so fiendish.

“You, sir!' he said, `deserve something at my hands;
but I shall waive my right to punish you, and leave you
wholly in the hands of Willard Warncliff, your future
son-in-law.'

“ `He shall never bear that relation to me, by my
consent, the villain!' exclaimed the Colonel, indignantly.

“Warncliff, who was standing near, on hearing these
words, sprung fiercely toward the Colonel, and raised his
hand with the intention of striking him—but was arrested
by the voice of his chief.

“ `Hold!' cried D'Estang: `when I sit in judgment, I
allow no subordinate to interfere. Retire, sir, beyond
hearing!' And as Warncliff, obedient to his command,
withdrew from the group, with a crest-fallen countenance,
the other proceeded: `As to your consent, Colonel
Moreland, I suppose it will make little difference with the
parties concerned, whether it is obtained or not; but it
may be that you will be glad to give it, and a fortune with
it: you understand me?'

“ `I think I do understand you, so far as an honest,

upright man may understand a villainous thief, robber and
assassin!”

“At these words D'Estang turned pale with anger, and
his eyes fairly glowed like coals of fire. Instantly drawing
a pistol, he presented it to the Colonel's head, and I
expected to see his brains scattered where he stood. But
he changed his design, and returned the pistol to its place,
saying, as he did so:

“ `No! I have promised Warncliff that I would not
harm you—that he alone shall decide your fate—and I
will keep my word; but policy, if not a fear of the
consequences, should dictate to you less aggravating
replies. But you have had some cause for intemperance
in language; and I can overlook that in one of your years,
which I could not in one younger than myself. Let me
see! I believe I did once lay you under contribution to the
extent of a span of fine horses; which, now that we are
on the subject, I may as well inform you were procured
for me through the aid of your future son-in-law.'

“ `Ha!' cried the Colonel; `then I did not suspect you
wrongly? and Willard Warncliff—the son of my friend—
a youth whom I loved and took as it were to my bosom—
was even then a thief? was even then robbing his benefactor?
Well! well! I never suspected him before, though
I did you; but I am now prepared to believe either of you
capable of any meanness, of any crime, from picking a
pocket up to highway murder.'

“ `And we are now prepared to let you believe what you
like,' returned D'Estang, coolly; `and, for the present, to
say what you please. But let me tell you, by the way,
that had you suspected less in one place, and more in
another at one time—and had your daughter, when
affianced to Warncliff, been less romantically foolish, kept
to her word, and not fallen in love with a stranger, and

even ran away with him, through one of your short sighted
blunders—you would not be in your present predicament,
and be obliged to hear these disagreeable truths. But no!
a designing stranger was welcomed into your family, and
allowed to take high place in your regard; and being an
upstart braggart, he must, as a natural consequence, begin
his acquaintance by boasting of his wonderful exploits; and
among the rest, his triumph over me; and then for the first
time it occurred to you that you might as well have a hand
in the dish—more especially as you thought there might be
something gained, without any loss or risk. He told you
I was a counterfeiter; and believing his story, you in
return told him that you suspected me of being a thief;
and so between you it was agreed that you should write to
the Sheriff of Brazoria County and have me arrested.

“ `Well, you did write; but your letter was intercepted,
and your plan foiled. Luckily there was a faithful spy in
your confidence; and through him I was informed of your
kind intentions in time to thwart them. Lest you might
succeed eventually, I thought it better to change my
quarters. Not that I feared the Sheriff and all the men
he might raise, mark you!—for I had, and still have, a
hundred dare-devils at my command; but some of these
were away at the time; and I thought it advisable to
remove out of the county, and avoid any open rupture with
the officers of the law—by which, though I might lose
nothing, I certainly could gain nothing.

“ `I therefore sold my splendid mansion and grounds at
a pecuniary sacrifice; and here you find me—as safely,
though less elegantly quartered. As I have thus lost
much by you—after deducting the price of the horses—
and as I understand you are wealthy, I have no doubt,
Colonel Moreland, if you ever return to your friends, you
will first be under the necessity of making my loss good,
besides doing something handsome for your worthy son-in-law.

But as all these arrangements must be between you
and Warncliff; and as I have now given you an idea of
what is expected, and for what reason, it is unnecessary
to prolong this interview. You may therefore retire, and
reflect on what you have just heard.'

“The Colonel now moved away,” continued Harley,
“without making any reply—doubtless thinking it politic
not to bandy words in his excited state of mind.”

“And where was Clara all this time?” I inquired.

“She had previously been conducted to a distant part
of the cave, where she could not overhear the conversation.
I did not see her afterward. Well, on the withdrawal of
the Colonel,” pursued my friend, “D'Estang turned again
to me, and said:

“ `You see, young man, that I have pretty extensive
arrangements; and though you were foolish enough at one
time to flatter yourself that you could easily have handed
me over to the law, yet had you tried it, and remained to
see it accomplished, you and your friend would have
awaked some fine morning and found your delicate
throats cut from ear to ear. And better for you both,
perhaps, had it been so; for he would thus have been
spared the halter, and you a less pleasing death than his.
The fact is, your time had not then come; for you almost
miraculously escaped me on your return to Galveston; but
the case is different now; your time has come, and your
friend is already dead. Thus do I always, sooner or later,
triumph over my foes, and all meddling knaves.'

“With this he turned away, and spoke apart with a
couple of his followers; who then advanced to me, and
led me to the spot where we now are. Here they proceeded
to throw me on my back, gag me, bind my legs,
and tighten the cords around my arms. This done, they
thrust me into the hole where you found me, and closed up
the entrance with stones.

“I will not pretend to describe my feelings, when I
thus found myself gagged, and bound, and buried alive,
and left there to starve.—Something you may imagine,
and that something is enough—for horrors should not be
dwelt upon.

“After I had been shut in there, I heard the sounds
of boisterous mirth, which continued for several hours;
and while this was going on, D'Estang and Warncliff held
a consultation near me—probably having selected this part
of the cave as being close at hand, and still beyond interruption.
I could only now and then catch a word, or a
short sentence, of their conversation; but what I did hear,
led me to believe they were discussing the plan of an expedition
to the frontier of Mexico; there to open a kind
of Guerilla warfare—ostensibly against the Americans, to
give an air of lawfulness to their proceedings—but with
the real design of plundering any and every body that
might fall into their hands.”

“This would at least be in keeping with the rest of
their proceedings,” said I.

“Well this, as I said, I think is their intention; and
therefore I do not feel very apprehensive of a sudden
return hither. But still we had better not venture delay
on that account—for there is no knowing what may happen.

“But to conclude my story.

“At last all became quiet, and so remained for two or
three hours, when I heard sounds of preparation for departure.
These lasted perhaps an hour; and then all gradually
died away, and a deep, unbroken stillness prevailed.

“Oh! the awful, soul-sickening desolation which followed!
Human language could not describe it; and Heaven
forefend that you ever feel it as I felt it! Death stared
me in the face—and such a death! Death by starvation,
alone, in the solitude of eternal silence—alone, in the darkness
of eternal night!—buried alive beyond human aid!—

buried alive beyond the voices of nature! I would have
given worlds, had they been mine, to hear once more the
sound of a human voice—the roar of waters—the sighing
of the breeze—or even the chirp of a cricket,—any thing
to break that awful, death-like, desolating silence! Oh!
my God! my God! may I never forget to thank Thee,
daily, on my knees, for this deliverance!

“I scarcely need tell you that the first sounds I heard,
after the departure of the brigands, were your voice and
the discharge of your pistol. The words I did not hear—
the voice I did not recognize; but it was at least human;
it proceeded from mortal lips; some living being of my
kind was near me; and oh! you know not, my friends—
you never can know—what I felt in that moment! I had
no right to hope for release; and yet, somehow, I felt that
God had not deserted me; and a thrill of inexpressible
joy went through my frame. I could not speak—but I
could moan—and by this means you were drawn to me.
When I found that I was about to obtain my liberty, I
thought I should go mad with joy; and when, by the light
of the torch, Harry, I beheld your face, whom I believed
dead, methought I had gone mad, truly, and that this was
one of the visions of a disordered brain.”

During Harley's recital of his singular adventures,
Walter sat and watched him in silence; but though he.
opened not his lips, the workings of his countenance
plainly showed the emotions excited by the thrilling narration;
and more than once, while Harley was speaking of
his father, Warncliff, and D'Estang, he clutched his rifle
with an iron grip, and half-started to his feet, as if he fancied
his foes were even now standing within the reach of
his vengeance. He grew calmer toward the last; and
when my friend ceased speaking, he said, as if in answer
to a mental question:

“Yes, they have undoubtedly set off for the frontier of
Mexico, and we must follow them. One thing is evident
from the words of D'Estang, and this takes a weight from
my mind—they do not intend immediate personal violence
to my father nor Clara; and if my father will only let policy
govern his speech, we shall yet triumph in their rescue.
How narrowly have we all escaped death! how wonderfully
have we been brought together! how singularly all their
designs against us personally have been frustrated! and
surely the same wise Providence that hath worked so miraculously
in our behalf, will not desert us now.”

“No!” cried I, feeling my heart bound under the exhilarating
emotion of newly awakened hope: “No!
Heaven is with us, and we must and shall succeed.
But come! this is no longer a place for us: let us begone.”

“I am unarmed,” said Harley: “perhaps there may be
weapons here.”

“A good idea—let us search,” replied Walter.

We did search, and were presently rewarded by discovering
a large chest; which, on being opened, displayed
a small armory, consisting of pistols, cutlasses, knives,
poniards, some three or four short rifles, a dozen canisters
of powder, as many pounds of balls, and at least fifty
weight of bogus coin. The joy of a miser, on finding a
bag of gold, could not exceed what we experienced on
making this discovery; and we hastened to arm ourselves
to our complete satisfaction—Harley observing:

“As their villanous designs on us have so far been defeated
through the very monstrosities they planned against
us, so may we, with God's aid, yet live to punish the vile
authors with their own weapons.”

We did not explore the cavern; for now we felt there
was more important work before us; and seeking the light
of day, we extinguished our torch, descended the rocks
and the ravine in safety, and then set off on the trail of

our foes; our hearts filled with prayers of thanksgiving for
our unexpected union, and our wonderful deliverance from
the awful evils which had threatened us with death in its
most terrible form.