[Illustration: "'HEAVEN ABOVE!' EJACULATED JACK; 'WHY IT'S MR. MOLE. '"

 JACK HARKAWAY AND HIS BOY TINKER. VOL. II. --_Frontispiece_]

 JACK HARKAWAY'S BOY TINKER AMONG THE TURKS

 BEING THE CONCLUSION OF THE "ADVENTURES OF YOUNG JACK HARKAWAY AND HIS BOY TINKER"

 BY BRACEBRIDGE HEMYNG

 BOOK NUMBER FIFTEEN

 CHICAGO M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY

 Jack Harkaway's Boy Tinker AMONG THE TURKS. 

JACK GETS INTO HOT WATER--A MORAL LESSON, AND HOW HE PROFITED BYIT--ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 

The matter was not ended here, however. 

When they got on board, there was a very serious reception awaitingthem. 

Their project had been discovered and betrayed to the skipper by someofficious noodle, and Captain Willis was not a little alarmed. 

The consequences might be very serious. 

So the captain had Jack and Harry Girdwood up, and gave them a word ortwo of a sort. 

"We wish to preserve the most friendly relations with the people here, Mr. Harkaway, " said he, severely; "and this sort of adventure is notcalculated to achieve our object. "

Jack did not attempt to deny what had occurred. 

"We have done no harm, " he said; "we were simply cruising about when wesaw murder done. We arrived too late to prevent it, but Tinker waspleased to take it upon himself to avenge the murdered woman, for awoman it was, as we could tell from her shrieks as the sack went underand stifled them for ever. "

The captain was somewhat startled at this. 

"Is this true?"

"I would have you know, captain, that I am not in the habit of sayingwhat is not true. "

The captain bowed stiffly at young Jack's rebuke. 

"I don't wish to imply anything else, " he said; "but before you get toohigh up in the stirrups, young gentleman, remember that I command here. Remember that in your own thirst for excitement, you act in a waylikely to compromise me as well as everybody on board. You are notwanting in a proper appreciation of right and wrong. Before you addanything worse to the present discussion, reflect. The injured airwhich you are pleased to assume is out of place. I leave you to yourown reflections, young gentleman. "

And so saying, the captain turned away and left him. 

Jack's first impulse was to walk after the captain, and fire a partingshot. 

But Harry Girdwood's hand arrested him. 

"Don't be foolish, Jack, " said he. 

"Let go, I----"

"Don't be foolish, I say, Jack, " persisted Harry Girdwood. "Do you knowwhat you are saying?"

"Are you siding against me?" exclaimed Jack. 

"In a general sense I am not against you, but I can't approve of yourreplies. You had no right to retort, and I shouldn't be a true pal, Jack, if I spoke to your face against my convictions. "

Jack sulked for a little time. 

And then he did as the captain had advised. 

He reflected. 

He was very soon led back to the correct train of thought, and being alad of high moral courage, as well as physically brave, he was notafraid to acknowledge when he was in the wrong. 

Harry Girdwood walked a little way off. 

Young Jack--dare-devil Jack--coloured up as he walked to Harry and heldout his hand. 

"Tip us your fin, messmate, " he said, with forced gaiety. "You areright, I was wrong, of course. "

He turned off. 

"Where are you going?" demanded Harry. 

"To the captain. "

"What for?"

"To apologise for being insolent. "

Off he went. 

"Captain Willis. "

"Do you want me, Mr. Harkaway?" asked the captain. 

"The chief mate was standing by, and Jack did not feel that he had sofar offended as to have to expiate his fault in public. 

"When you are disengaged, Captain Willis, I would beg the favour ofhalf a word with you. "

"Is it urgent, Mr. Harkaway?" he asked. 

"I have been refractory, Captain Willis. "

A faint smile stole over the captain's face in spite of his endeavourto repress it. 

"I will see you below presently, " he said to the mate. "Come down to mein a quarter of an hour or so. "

"Yes, sir, " said the mate. 

"Now, Mr. Harkaway, I'm at your service, " said Captain Willis, walkingforward. 

Jack grew rather red in the face at this. 

Then he made a plunge, and blurted it all out. 

"I have been an idiot, Captain Willis, and I want you to know that Ithoroughly appreciate your fairness and high sense of justice. "

"Now you are flattering me, Mr. Harkaway, " said the captain. 

"Captain Willis, " said impetuous Jack, "if you call me Mr. Harkaway, Ishall think that you are stiff-backed and bear malice. "

"What a wild fellow you are, " said the captain. "Why, what on earthshall I call you?"

"Jack, sir, " returned our hero. "John on Sunday and holidays, if youprefer it, just as a proof that you don't bear any ill feeling to amadman, who has the good luck to have a lucid interval, and toapologise heartily as I do now. "

The captain held out his hand. 

Jack dropped his into it with a spank, and grasped it warmly. 

"Don't say any more on this subject, Mr. --I mean, Jack, " said thecaptain, smiling, "or you will make me quite uncomfortable. "

And so the matter ended. 

Jack could not be dull for long together. 

He plucked up his old vivacity, and went off to Mr. Figgins' cabin. 

"I must go and give the orphan a turn, " said he. 

CHAPTER LX. 

TURKISH CUSTOMS--JACK GIVES THE ORPHAN A NOTION OF WHAT HE MAYEXPECT--MATRIMONIAL WEAKNESSES--PASHA BLUEBEARD--THE SORT OF A MAN HEIS--HIS EXCELLENCY'S VISIT--MR. FIGGINS IS SPECIALLY INVITED--HOPESAND FEARS. 

Jack found Mr. Figgins in his cabin, squatting on a cushioncross-legged. 

Tinker and Bogey were attending upon him. 

Since their desperate dive into the sea, and the adventure with theshark, the two darkeys and the orphan had become fast friends. 

"Hullo, Mr. Figgins, " said Jack, in surprise, "what's going forwardnow?"

"Only practising Turkish manners and customs, " returned Mr. Figgins, quite seriously. "I mean to go ashore to-morrow, and make someacquaintances; I shouldn't like to appear quite strange when I gotashore. When in Rome----"

"You must do as the Romans do, " added young Jack. 

"Yes; and when in Turkey, " said the orphan, "you must----"

"Do as the Turkeys do, " concluded Jack. 

"Precisely, " added the orphan. "That's it. "

"You are practising to smoke the long hookah to begin with. "

"Yes--no--it's a chibouk, " said Mr. Figgins. "That is all you have toknow, I believe, to make yourself thoroughly well received in Turkishpolite society. "

"Every thing, " responded Jack, "with a hook--ah. "

"I didn't feel very comfortable over it at first, " said the orphan, "but I'm getting on now. "

"There's one danger you are exposed to on going ashore. "

"What's that?"

"Any gentleman having the slightest pretensions to good looks is nearlyalways obliged to get married a few times. "

Mr. Figgins stared aghast at this. 

"A few times?"

"Yes. "

"But I'm an orphan. "

"No matter; it's a fact, sir, I assure you, " said Jack, gravely. 

Mr. Figgins looked exceedingly alarmed. 

"If I could believe that there was any thing more in that than yourjoking, Mr. Jack, I should be precious uncomfortable. "

"Why?"

"Because my experience of matrimony has been any thing but pleasantalready, " responded the orphan. 

"You have been married, then?" said Jack, in surprise. 

"Once. "

"Very moderate that, sir, " said Jack. "You are a widower, I suppose, then?"

"I suppose so. "

"You are not sure?"

"Not quite. "

"Ah, well, then, it won't be so bad for you as it might. "

"What won't?"

"Marriage. "

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Jack, " exclaimed the orphan; "my experience ofthe happy state was any thing but agreeable with one wife. Goodnessknows how long I should survive if I had, as you say, several wives. "

"Don't worry yourself, Mr. Figgins, " said Jack, "but it is just as wellto be prepared. "

"For what?"

"An emergency. You don't know what might happen to you in thiscountry. "

Mr. Figgins looked really very anxious at this. 

"I don't well see how they can marry a man. "

"That's not the question, Mr. Figgins. You could refuse. It would costyou your life for a certainty. "

The orphan nearly rolled off his cushion. 

"What!"

"Fact, I assure you, " said Jack, gravely. 

"Explain. "

"You will be expected to pay a visit of state to the pasha. "

"Yes. "

"That is the greatest honour on landing for a stranger. "

"What is a pasha?"

"The governor of the province, a regular Bung. "

"Well. "

"Bluebeard was a pasha, you remember. "

"No, no, " interrupted the orphan, delighted to show his historicalaccuracy. "Bluebeard was a bashaw. "

"It is the same thing, another way of writing or pronouncing theidentical same dignity or rank. Well, you know that polygamy is the petvice of the followers of Islam. "

"Oh, it's dreadful, Jack. "

"The greater the man, the greater the polygamist. A pasha has as manywives as he can keep, and more too. The pasha of this province is notrich for his rank, and for his matrimonial proclivities. "

"Lor'!"

"How many wives should you suppose he has?" asked Jack, with an air ofdeep gravity. 

"Don't know, " replied the orphan, quietly. 

"Ninety-eight living. "

Mr. Figgins jumped up and dropped his chibouk. 

"Never. "

"A fact, " asserted Jack, with gravity. 

"Why, the man must be a regular Bluebeard. "

"You've hit it, sir, " responded Jack; "that's the sort of man he is. "

"Well, that is all very well for the Turks and for these old sinnersthe pashas, but I am an Englishman. "

"This is the way it will most likely be done, " continued Jack. "On yourpresentation to his excellency the pasha, you are expected to make somepresent. The pasha makes a return visit of ceremony, and leaves behindhim some solid evidence of his liberality. "

"Well?"

"Well, but the very highest compliment that a pasha can pay you is toleave you one of his wives. He generally makes it an old stock-keeper, something that has been a good thirty years or so in the seraglio. "

Mr. Figgins took the liveliest interest in this narrative. 

He was growing rapidly convinced of the truth of Jack's descriptions ofthese singular manners and customs of the country in which they were. 

Yet he eyed Jack as one who has a lingering doubt. 

"Ahem!" said Mr. Figgins, "I don't think that I shall join you on yourvisit ashore in the morning. "

"We'll see in the morning, " said Jack; "it's a pity to put off yourtrip for the sake of such a trifling danger as that of having a wife orso given to you. "

"It's no use, " said Mr. Figgins, "my mind is fully made up; I shall notvisit the pasha. "

"It will be taken as a grave insult to go ashore without paying yourrespects to his excellency. "

"I can't help that, " returned the orphan, resolutely; "I won't visithim. "

"Mr. Figgins, " said Jack, in a voice of deep solemnity, "these Turksare cruel, vindictive, and revengeful. The last Englishman who refusedwas, by order of the pasha, skinned alive, placed on the sunny side ofa wall, and blown to death by flies. "

"Surely the Turks are not such barbarians, " said Mr. Figgins. 

"You'll find they are. They'd think no more of polishing you off thanof killing a fly. "

If that rascal Jack intended to make poor Mr. Figgins uneasy, hecertainly succeeded very well. 

Mr. Figgins looked supremely miserable. 

"Good night, Mr. Figgins. Think it over. "

"I tell you I----"

"Never mind, don't decide too rashly. Pleasant dreams. "

"Pleasant dreams, " said the orphan. "I shall have the nightmare. "

The orphan's pillow was haunted that night by visions of a terriblenature. 

He fancied himself in the presence of a turbaned Turk, a powerfulpasha, who was sitting cross-legged on an ottoman, smoking a pipe, ofendless length, and holding in his hand a drawn sword--a scimitar thatlooked ready to chop his head off. 

Beside this terrible Turk stood five ladies, in baggy trousers, andlong veils. 

No words were spoken, but instinctively the orphan knew that he had todecide between the scimitar and the quintet of wives--wall-flowers ofthe pasha's harem. 

Silently, in mute horror, the orphan was about to submit to the leastof the two evils, and choose a wife. 

Then he awoke suddenly. 

What an immense relief it was to find it only a dream after all. 

"I don't quite believe that young Harkaway, " said the orphan, dubiously; "he is such a dreadful practical joker. But I won't go onshore, nevertheless. It's not very interesting to see these savages, after all; they really are nothing more than savages. "

And after a long and tedious time spent in endeavouring to get to sleepagain, he dropped off. 

But only to dream again about getting very much married. 

 * * * *

He slept far into the morning, for his dreams had disturbed him much, and he was tired out. 

When he awoke, there was someone knocking at his cabin door. 

"Come in. "

"It's only me, Mr. Figgins, " said a familiar voice. 

"Come in, captain. "

Captain Deering entered. 

"Not up yet, Mr. Figgins?" he said, in surprise. "We've got visitorsaboard already. "

"Dear me. "

"Distinguished visitors. The pasha and his suite. "

"You don't say so?" exclaimed the orphan, sitting up. 

"Fact, sir, " returned the captain. "It must be ten years since I lasthad the honour of an interview with his excellency. "

"You know him, then, Captain Deering?"

"Rather. Been here often. Know every inch of the country, " said thecaptain. 

"What sort of a man is the pasha?" said the orphan, thinking of Jack'sstatement. 

"Oh, a decent fellow enough, unless he's riled, " was the reply. 

"Do you speak the language?" said the orphan. 

"Like a native. "

"Is he as much married as they say?" demanded Mr. Figgins. 

The captain smiled. 

"His excellency has a weakness that way; but, " he added, in a warningvoice, "you must not make any allusion to that. "

"I won't see him, " said Mr. Figgins. "I don't intend to visit him. "

"But I have come to fetch you to pay your respects. "

"Where?"

"Here, on board, in the state saloon. "

"But----"

"Make haste, Mr. Figgins, " interrupted Captain Deering. "It is no joketo make a pasha wait. Look alive. I'll come and fetch you in fiveminutes. Up you get. "

And then Captain Deering departed. 

Mr. Figgins was sorely perplexed now. 

But he arose and began to dress himself as quickly as possible. 

"After all, " he said to himself, "it is just as well. I shouldcertainly like to see the pasha, and this is a bit of luck, for there'sno danger here at any rate, if what that young Harkaway said was true. "

He went to the cabin door and shouted out for Tinker. 

"Tinker!"

"He's engaged, " answered Captain Deering, who was close by. 

"I want him. "

"He's away, attending his excellency in the saloon, " returned CaptainDeering. 

"Bogey then. "

"Bogey's there too. "

"Never mind. "

"Are you nearly ready?"

"Yes"

"Look sharp. I wouldn't have his excellency put out of temper for theworld; it would be sure to result in the bowstringing of a few of hispoor devils of slaves when he got ashore again, and you wouldn't careto have that on your conscience. "

Mr. Figgins very hurriedly completed his toilet. 

"What a fiend this wretched old bigamist must be, " he said to himself. "I'm precious glad that young Harkaway warned me, after all. I mighthave got into some trouble if I had gone ashore without knowing this. "

"Stop, " said the captain. "Have you any thing to take his excellency asa present?"

This made the orphan feel somewhat nervous. 

It tended to confirm what young Jack had said. 

"It is, then, the custom to make presents?" he said. 

"Yes. "

"What shall I give?"

"Any thing. That's a very nice watch you wear. "

"Must I give that?"

"Yes. His excellency is sure to present you with a much richerone--that's Turkish etiquette. "

This again corroborated Jack's words. 

Yet it was a far more pleasant way of putting it than Jack had thoughtfit to do. 

Mr. Figgins only objected to a present of wives. 

Any thing rich in the way of jewellery was quite another matter. 

"On entering the presence, you have only to prostrate yourself threetimes; the third time you work it so that you just touch hisexcellency's toe with your lips. "

"I hope his excellency's boots will be clean. "

"His excellency would not insult you by letting you kiss his boot. Noboot or stocking does he wear. "

Mr. Figgins made an awfully wry face at this. 

"Ugh! I don't like the idea of kissing a naked toe. "

"You'll soon get used to it, " said the captain, cheerfully, "whenyou've kissed as many pashas' toes as I have. Hold your tongue--here weare. "

He pushed open the saloon door and ushered Mr. Figgins into thepresence of his excellency. 

CHAPTER LXI. 

MORE ABOUT CHIVEY AND HIS MASTER--THE FATAL PIT--IS IT THE END?--ARTFULCHIVEY AND THE ARTFULLER NOTARY--DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND--HOW THE TIGERPREPARED TO SPRING--HERBERT MURRAY IN DANGER. 

Before we proceed to describe the orphan's presentation to that archpolygamist, the Turkish pasha, and the remarkable result of thatinterview, we must look around and see if we are not neglecting any ofthe characters whose eventful careers we have undertaken to chronicle. 

We are losing sight of one at least, who has a very decided claim uponour attention. 

This person is none other than Herbert Murray. 

The reader will not have forgotten under what circumstances we partedcompany with this unscrupulous son of an unscrupulous father. 

Goaded to desperation by his villainous servant, Herbert Murray turnedupon the traitor and hurled him down the gravel pit. 

Then the assassin walked away from the scene. 

But ere he had got far, his steps were arrested by the sound of agroan. 

A groan that came from the gravel pit. 

"Was it my fancy?"

No. 

Surely not. 

There it was again. 

A low moan--a wail of anguish. 

Back he went, muttering to himself--

"Not dead?"

He went round nearly to the bottom of the pit, and peered over. 

There was Chivey leaning upon his elbow groaning with the severity ofhis bruises, and the dreadful shock he had received. 

"You've done for me, now, " he moaned, as he caught sight of his master. 

"No; but I shall, " retorted the assassin. 

And he took a deliberate aim with the pistol. 

"I expected this, " said Chivey, faintly; "but remember murder is ahanging matter. "

"I shall escape, " retorted Murray, coldly. 

"But you can't, " said Chivey, with a grin of triumph, even as hegroaned. 

There was something in his manner which made Murray uneasy. 

"Twenty-four hours after I'm missing, " gasped Chivey, "your forgerywill be in the hands of the police; they can get you back for forgery, and while you're in the dock of the Old Bailey, if not before, to standyour trial for forgery, they will have a clue to my murder. "

His words caused Murray a singular thrill. 

"What do you mean by that, traitor?" he demanded. 

"Mean? Why, I know you too well to trust you. I tell you I have takenevery possible precaution, " retorted Chivey, "so that you are safe onlywhile I live. I know my man too well not to take every precaution. Now, " he added, sinking back exhausted, "now, my young sweet andpleasant, fire away. "

Murray paused, and concealed his pistol. 

Was it true about these precautions?

Chivey was vindictive as he was cunning. 

He had shown this in every action. 

"Supposing I spare you?" said Murray. 

"You can't, " retorted the tiger; "I'm done for. "

"So much the better. "

"So you say now, " returned Chivey, his voice growing fainter andfainter. "Wait and remember my words--I'll be revenged. "

He gasped for breath. 

Then all was still. 

Was he dead?

Murray trembled with fear at the thought. 

The words of the revengeful tiger rang in his ear. 

And he strode away. 

Silent and moody as befits one bearing the brand of Cain. 

 * * * *

Chivey was far from being as badly hurt as he at first appeared. 

He had no bones broken, his worst injuries being a few bruises and avery unpleasant shaking. 

But Chivey was artful. 

He thought it best to keep quiet until Herbert Murray should be gone. 

Chivey struggled up on to his knees. 

Then he began to crawl along the sand pit. 

Progress was difficult at first. 

But he persevered and got along in time. 

"If these bruises would only let me think how further to act, " hemuttered to himself, as groaning, he crawled back to the town. 

"Señor Velasquez, " he said to himself, as a happy thought crossed him. "Señor Velasquez is my man for a million. "

He paused to think over the ways and means, and a cunning smiledeepened on his face, as he gradually made up his mind. 

"The worst of this is that I must have a confederate, " muttered theyoung schemer. 

"No matter, there is only one way out of it, and I must make the bestof it. "

Señor Velasquez was an obscure notary. 

Chivey had made a chatting acquaintance with the notary in the town, the Spaniard speaking English with tolerable proficiency. 

"What is the nature of the secret you hold _in terrorem_ over yourmaster?" demanded the notary, when Chivey at length reached his office. 

Chivey smiled. 

"I said it was a secret, Mr. Velasquez, " he answered. 

"But if you seek my advice about that, " the notary made reply, "I mustknow all the particulars of the case. "

"Oh, no. "

"Oh, yes. "

"Why?"

"How can I advise if you keep me in the dark?"

Chivey leered at the Spanish notary and grinned. 

"Don't you try and come the old soldier over me, please, " he said. 

"Old soldier?" said Señor Velasquez, in surprise. 

"Yes. "

"What is 'old soldier?' What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, sir, the artful. "

"Is this English?" exclaimed the notary. 

"Rather. "

"Well, I confess I do not understand it. "

"Then, " said Chivey, getting quite cheerful as he warmed into thematter, "I think your English education has been very seriouslyneglected, that's what I think. "

"Possibly, " said the Spaniard. "I only learnt your tongue as a student, and am not well grounded in slang. "

"More's the pity. "

There was a spice of contempt in Chivey's tone which appeared rather toaggravate Señor Velasquez. 

"You are too clever, Mr. Chivey, " said he, "far too clever. Now youwant to keep your secret, and I shall guess that your secretconcerns----"

He paused. 

"Who?" asked Chivey. 

"The young man whose letters you employed me to intercept. "

The tiger looked alarmed. 

"I mean the young Señor Jack Harkaway. "

Chivey looked about him rather anxiously. 

"Don't be so imprudent, Señor Velasquez, " he said. "You are a preciousdangerous party to have any thing to do with. "

"Not I, " returned Señor Velasquez; "I am easily dealt with. But thosewho would deal with me must not be too cunning. "

"You don't find nothing of that sort about me, " said Chivey. 

"What is it you require of me?" demanded the notary, getting vexed. 

"He's a proud old cove, " thought the tiger. 

So he drew in his horns and met the notary half way. 

"You are just right, Mr. Velasquez, " he remarked. "It does concern JackHarkaway. "

"I knew that. "

"Now I want you to give me your promise not to tell what I am going tosay to you, nor to make any use of it without my express permission. "

"I promise. Now proceed, for I am pressed for time. "

"I will, " said the tiger, resolutely. 

The notary produced paper and writing materials. 

"My master, Mr. Murray, has attempted my life, " began Chivey, "and thisis because I am possessed of certain secrets. "

"I see. "

"He is at the present moment under the idea that he has killed me. Nowwhat I want is, to make him thoroughly understand that he does not getout of his difficulty by getting me out of the way, not by any mannerof means at all. "

"I see. "

"How will you do it?"

"I will go and see him. "

Chivey jumped at the idea immediately. 

"Yes, sir, that's the sort; there's no letters then to tell talesagainst us. "

"None. "

"Get one from him, though, if you can, " said Chivey, eagerly;"something compromising him yet deeper, like. "

"I will do it, " said Señor Velasquez. "And what will you pay for it?Give it a price. "

"Thirty pounds, " returned Chivey, in a feverish state of anxiety. 

"I'll do it, " returned the notary, with great coolness. 

CHAPTER LXII. 

HOW SEÑOR VELASQUEZ PLAYED A DEEP GAME WITH CHIVEY--DOUBLE DEALING--HERBERTMURRAY'S CHANCE--"HARKAWAY MUST BE PUT AWAY"--A GUILTY COMPACT--CHIVEYIN DURANCE VILE--THE SICK ROOM AND THE OPIATE--AN OVERDOSE--THENOTARY'S GUARDIAN--THE SPANISH GAROTTE--"TALKING IN YOUR SLEEP IS AVERY BAD GAME. "

Señor Velasquez was any thing but a fool. 

Chivey was not soft, but he was not competent to cope with such a keenspirit as this Spanish notary. 

Señor Velasquez walked up to the hotel in which Herbert Murray wasstaying, and the first person he chanced to meet was Murray himself. 

"I wish to have a word with you in private, Señor Murray, " said thenotary. 

Murray looked anxiously around him, starting "like a guilty thing upona fearful summons. "

The bland smile of the Spanish notary reassured him, however. 

"What can I do for Señor Velasquez?" he asked. 

"I begged for a few words in private, " answered Velasquez. 

"Take a seat, Señor Velasquez, " said Herbert Murray, "and now tell mehow I can serve you, " after entering his room. 

The notary made himself comfortable in his chair. 

"I can speak in safety now?" he said. 

"Of course. "

"No fear of interruption here?"

The notary looked Murray steadily in the eyes as he said--

"I was thinking of your officious servant. "

Herbert Murray changed colour as he faltered--

"Of whom?"

"Chivey, I think you call him--your groom, I mean. "

"There is no fear from him now, " said Murray, with averted eyes; "notthe least in the world. "

Señor Velasquez smiled significantly. 

"Your man Chivey, " resumed the Spanish notary, "has confided to me asecret. "

"Concerning me?"

"Yes. "

"The villain!"

"Now listen to me, Señor Murray. You have behaved very imprudentlyindeed. Your whole secret is with me. "

Herbert started. 

"With you?"

"Yes. "

Herbert Murray glanced anxiously at the door. 

The notary followed his eyes with some inward anxiety, yet he did notbetray his uneasiness at all. 

"He was speaking the truth for once, then, " said Murray. "He hadconfided his secrets to someone else. "

"Yes. "

Herbert Murray walked round the room, and took up his position with hisback to the door. 

"Señor Velasquez, " he said, in a low but determined voice, "you havemade an unfortunate admission. If there is a witness, it is only one;you are that witness, and your life is in danger. "

The notary certainly felt uncomfortable, but he was too old a stager todisplay it. 

Herbert Murray produced a pistol, which he proceeded to examine and tocock deliberately. 

"That would not advance your purpose much, Señor Murray, " he said, coolly; "the noise would bring all the house trooping into the room. "

Murray was quite calm and collected now, and therefore he was open toreason. 

"There is something in that, " he said, "so I have a quieter helpmatehere. "

He uncocked the pistol and put it in his breast pocket. 

Then he whipped out a long Spanish stiletto. 

"There are other reasons against using that. "

"And they are?"

"Here is one, " returned the notary, drawing a long, slender blade fromhis sleeve. 

Murray was palpably disconcerted at this. 

The Spanish notary and the young Englishman stood facing each other insilence for a considerable time. 

The former was the first to break the silence. 

"Now, look you here, Señor Murray, " said he, "I am not a child, nor didI, knowing all I know, come here unprepared for every emergency--aye, even for violence. "

"Go on, " said Murray, between his set teeth. 

"You have imprudently placed yourself in the hands of an unscrupulousyoung man. "

"I have. "

"And he has proved himself utterly unworthy?"

"Utterly. "

"All of that is known to me, " said the notary, craftily. "Now you mustpay no heed to this Chivey. "

"I will not, " returned Herbert Murray, significantly, "though there islittle fear of further molestation from him, señor. "

Young Murray little dreamt of the cause of the notary's peculiar smile. 

"Your sole danger, as I take it, Señor Murray, is from your fellowcountryman, Jack Harkaway. "

"Yes. "

"Then to him you must direct your attention. Where is he?"

"Gone. "

"Where to?"

"Don't know. "

"I do then, " returned the notary, quietly: "and it is to tell you thatthat I am here. I have all the necessary information; you must followhim. "

"Why?"

"To make sure of him, " coldly replied the Spaniard. 

"How?"

Velasquez spoke not. 

But his meaning was just as clear as if he had put it into words. 

A vicious dig with his stiletto at the air. 

Nothing more. 

And so they began to understand each other. 

 * * * *

Señor Velasquez, the notary, was playing a double game. 

From Herbert Murray he carefully kept the knowledge that Chivey stilllived. 

And why?

That knowledge would have lessened his hold. 

The cunning way in which he let Herbert Murray understand that he knewall, even to the attempt upon Chivey's life at the gravel pits, completed the mastery in which he meant to hold the young rascal. 

He arranged everything for young Murray. 

He discovered from him the destination of the ship in which JackHarkaway and his friends had escaped, and he procured him a berth on avessel sailing in the same direction. 

"Once you get within arm's length of this young Harkaway, " he said;"you must be firm and let your blow be sure. "

"I will, " returned his pupil. 

"Once Harkaway is removed from your path, you may sleep in peace, forhe alone can now punish you for forgery. "

"I hope so. "

"I know it, " said Velasquez. 

So well were the notary's plans laid, and so luckily did fortune playinto his hands, that forty-eight hours after his interview with Murray, he had that young gentleman safely on board a ship outward bound. 

Now Herbert Murray had passed but one night after that fearful scene bythe gravel pit, but the remembrance of it haunted his pillow from themoment he went to bed to the moment he arose unrefreshed and full offever. 

And yet he was setting out with the intention of securing his futurepeace and immunity from peril by the commission of a fresh crime. 

The ship was setting sail at a little after daybreak, and it had beenarranged that Señor Velasquez was to come and see him off. 

But much to his surprise, the notary did not put in an appearance. 

Eagerly he waited for the ship to start, lest any thing should occur atthe eleventh hour, and he should find himself laid by the heels toanswer for his crimes. 

 * * * *

Chivey was supposed to be hiding. 

In reality he was a prisoner in the house of Señor Velasquez, and heknew it. 

The notary was an old man, and he suffered from sundry ailments whichbelong to age--notably to rheumatism. 

An acute attack prostrated the old man, and held him down when he wasmost anxious to be up and doing. 

And the night before Herbert Murray was to set sail, he lay groaningand moaning with racking pains. 

His cries reached Chivey, who lay in the next room, and he came to thesick man's door to ask if he could be of any assistance. 

He peered warily in. 

In spite of his groans and anguish, the old notary was insensible underthe influence of an opiate. 

Chivey crept in. 

On a low table beside the bed was a lamp flickering fearfully, and aglass containing some medicine. 

Beside the glass a phial labelled laudanum. 

Something possessed the intruder to empty the contents of the phialinto the glass, and just as he had done so, the sufferer opened hiseyes. 

"Who's there?"

"It's me, Señor Velasquez, " said the tiger. "You have been ill----"

"What do you do here?" demanded the notary, sharply. 

"You called out. I thought I might be of assistance. "

"No, no. "

"Then I will go, señor, " said Chivey, "for I am tired. "

"Stay, give me my physic before you go. "

Chivey handed him the glass. 

The sick man gulped it down, and made a wry face. 

"How bitter it tastes, " he said, with a shudder. 

"Good-night, señor. "

"Good-night. "

 * * * *

Chivey did not remain very long absent. 

The heavy breathing of the notary soon told him that it was safe toreturn to the room. 

The business of the morrow so filled the mind of the old Spaniard, thathe was talking of it in his sleep. 

"At an hour after daybreak, I tell you, Murray, " he muttered. "Theberth is paid for, paid for by my gold. You follow on the track of yourenemy Harkaway, and once you are within reach, give a sharp, surestroke, and you will be free from your only enemy, seeing that you havealready taken good care of your traitor servant. "

Chivey was amazed, electrified. 

Did he hear aright?

"At daybreak!" he exclaimed, aloud. 

"Yes; at daybreak, " returned the notary in his sleep. 

After a pause, the sleeper muttered--

"What say you? If Chivey were not quite dead? What of that? How couldhe follow you? He has no funds. The only money he possessed I have nowin my strong box under my bed. "

Chivey was staggered. 

"Is Murray going to bolt, and leave me in the power of this oldvillain, I wonder, " he muttered. 

He broke off in his speculations, for the notary was babbling somethingagain. 

"'The Mogador, '" muttered the old man, speaking more thickly thanbefore as the opiate began to make itself felt; "the captain is calledGonzales. You have only to mention the name of Señor Velasquez, and hewill treat you well. He knows me. "

He muttered a few more words which grew more and more incoherent eachinstant. 

Then he lay back motionless as a log. 

The opium held him fast in its power. 

"Now for the box, " exclaimed the tiger, excitedly. 

Chivey tore open the box, and lifting up some musty old deeds andparchments, he feasted his eyes upon a mine of wealth. 

A pile of gold. 

Bright glittering pieces of every size and country. 

And beside it thick bundles of paper money. 

"Gold is uncommonly pretty, " said the tiger, "but the notes packs theclosest. "

Bundle after bundle he stowed away about his person, regularly paddinghis chest under his shirt. 

"Now for a trifle of loose cash, " he said, coolly. 

So saying, he dropped about sixty or seventy gold pieces into hisbreeches pocket. 

His waistcoat pockets he stuffed full also. 

Then he pushed back the box into its place under the bed. 

"The old man still sleeps, " he said to himself, looking round at thebed. 

He was in a rare good humour with himself. 

"Ha, ha! I am rich now, " said Chivey. "Thank you, old señor, you havedone me a good turn. May you sleep long. "

He gave a final glance about him and made off. 

 * * * *

A distant church clock tolled the hour of midnight as he gained theseashore. 

He was in luck. 

Not a soul did he encounter until he reached the beach, when he cameupon two sailors, launching a rowing boat. 

"'Mogador?'" he said, in a tone of inquiry. 

"_Si_, señor. "

"That's your sort, " said Chivey. "I want to see Captain Gonzales. "

"Come with us, then, " said one of the sailors. 

"Rather, " responded the tiger; "off we dive; whip 'em up, tickle himunder the flank, and we're there in a common canter. "

The sailors both understood a little of English. 

In very little time they were standing on the deck of the "Mogador. "

And facing Chivey as he scrambled up the side, was the master of theship, Captain Gonzales, to whom Chivey was presented at once by one ofthe sailors. 

"Señor Velasquez has sent me to you, captain, " said the ever readytiger. 

"Then you are welcome. "

"He told me to give you that, " said Chivey, handing the captain a pairof banknotes; "and to beg you to give me the best of accommodation in acabin all to myself. "

"It shall be done. "

"And above all not to let Mr. Murray know of my presence on board whenhe comes. "

"Good. "

"I am going on very important business for Señor Velasquez, captain, "pursued Chivey, with infinite assurance; "as you may judge, for hevalues your care of me at one hundred crowns to be paid on your nextvisit here. "

"Rely upon my uttermost assistance. "

"Thank you, " said Chivey, with a patronising smile; "and now I'll beobliged to you to show me to my berth. "

"Here, " cried the Spanish captain. "Pedro--Juan--Lopez. Take thisgentleman to my private cabin. "

The "Mogador" stood out to sea bravely enough. 

Chivey was there. 

Herbert Murray was there. 

But the latter little suspected the presence of the former. 

Herbert Murray, in fancied security, was reclining on deck upon somecushions he had got up from below, smoking lazily, and looking up atthe blue sky overhead, when Chivey, who had been looking vainly out foran appropriate cue to make his reappearance, slipped suddenly forward, and touching his hat, remarked in the coolest manner in the world--

"Did you ring for me, sir?"

Herbert looked up just as if he had seen a ghost. 

"Chivey!"

"Guv'ner. "

Herbert Murray stared at his villainous servant. 

But villainous as Chivey was, Herbert Murray never thought a bit aboutthat. 

His heart leaped to his mouth, and he was overjoyed to find him there. 

"Oh, Chivey, you vagabond!" he ejaculated. "I'm so awfully glad to seeyou. "

"One touch of nature makes the whole world kin. "

There's a lot of truth in that trite and homely old saying. 

For one little phrase from the guilty Herbert had come so straight fromthe heart that even the villainous tiger was touched immediately. 

"Look here, guv'nor, " said Mr. Chivey, "I don't think you are half sobad as I thought. My opinion is that you are not half as bad as some of'em, and that the ugly job up at the gravel pits was all of myprovoking. I bear no malice. "

"You don't!" exclaimed his master, quite overjoyed. 

"Not a bit. "

"Shake hands. "

Chivey obeyed. 

And they were faster friends than ever after that. 

But what about Señor Velasquez?

What about all their compacts with the villain?

For the time they were of no use to that plotter, whose plans had, upto the present time, failed. 

CHAPTER LXIII. 

THE ORPHAN IS PRESENTED AT COURT--IS A BIT NERVOUS--LESSONS IN THETURKISH LANGUAGE--MANNERS AND CUSTOMS--THE PASHA OF MANY WIVES--ANOFFICIAL PRESENT--BOWSTRINGING--AN EXECUTION--HORROR! THE ORPHAN'SPERIL, AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 

Having got Chivey and his master together again, we now travel to theTurkish coast to be in the company of young Jack and his friends. 

The orphan had been roused from his slumbers to be presented to thepasha of that province. 

His excellency the pasha had done them the honour to pay them a visitof ceremony on board ship, and was seated in great state surrounded byhis suite in the best saloon. 

After the chief personages on board had been presented, his excellencyhad, according to Captain Deering, desired to see that distinguishedpersonage, Mr. Figgins, _alias_ the orphan. 

And now the orphan stood trembling outside the door of the saloon. 

"In you go, Mr. Figgins, " whispered Captain Deering. 

"One moment. "

"Nonsense. "

"Just a word. "

"Bah!" said the captain, with a grin; "you aren't going to have a toothout. In with you. "

He opened the door, gave the timorous orphan a vigorous drive behind, and Mr. Figgins stood in the august presence. 

The pasha was seated--it would be irreverent to say squatted, whichwould better express it--upon a cushion that was, as Paddy says, hanging up on the floor. 

His excellency was in that peculiar, not to say painful attitude, whichless agile mortals find unattainable, but which appears to mean truerest to Turk or tailor. 

The pasha rejoiced in a beard of enormous dimensions, a grizzleddirt-coloured beard that almost touched the cushion upon which he sat. 

A turban of red and gold silk was upon his venerable head. 

And beside his excellency upon a cushion were laid his arms, weapons ofbarbarous make, thought the orphan. 

A scimitar, curved _à la_ Saladin, two long-barrelled pistols, withjewelled butts, "as though they were earrings or bracelets, " the orphansaid to himself, a long dagger with an ivory hilt and sheath, and apiece of cord. 

"That's to tie them together with, " mentally decided the orphan. "Onemight as well travel with the Woolwich Arsenal or the armoury from theTower. Barbarous old beast. "

"Now, " said Captain Deering, "tuck in your tuppenny, Mr. Figgins; bowas low as you can. "

The orphan put his back into an angle of forty-five with his legs. 

"Lower. "

"Ugh!"

"A little bit more. "

"Lower, " said Captain Deering, in an agonised whisper. "We shall all bebowstrung if his excellency thinks us wanting in respect. "

The orphan thus admonished made a further effort, and over he went

Head first!

There was such a chattering, such horrible sounds going on, as CaptainDeering scrambled after the unfortunate orphan, that the latter thoughthis time was come. 

The captain dragged him to his feet, however. 

Then the presentation was proceeded with. 

"His Excellency Ali Kungham Ben Nardbake, " cried a dignitary standingbeside the pasha, with a voice like a toastmaster. 

"Good gracious me!" exclaimed the orphan, "all that?"

"That's not half of it, " said Captain Deering. "To the faithful, he isknown as well as Sid Ney Ali Ben Lesters puar Nasr ed Bowstrung andStrattford Bustum. "

Mr. Figgins was greatly alarmed at this. 

"Powerful memories his godfathers and godmothers must have had, " hemurmured. 

Beside the pasha stood an official, with a beard of extraordinarylength. 

"Who's that?"

"Hush?" whispered Deering; "don't speak so loud. "

"Who is he?" again asked the orphan, sinking his voice. 

"The one with the beard?"

"Yes. "

"His name is Whiska Said Mahmoud Ben Ross Latreille, " returned Deering. 

"Dear, dear!" murmured the orphan, in despairing accents, "I shallnever----"

"Ease her, stop her!" cried a familiar voice in Mr. Figgins's ear, "you've got it in a knot. "

It was Nat Cringle. 

All was hushed. 

The bearded official looked at the pasha, who nodded. 

Then drawing his sword, he signed to two of his men, and Nat Cringle, looking dreadfully frightened, was bustled off behind a curtain whichhad been rigged up across the saloon, just at the pasha's back. 

"What are they going to do?" asked the orphan, his teeth chattering inalarm. 

Captain Deering was so much affected at this stage of the proceedingsthat he covered his face with his pocket-handkerchief. 

"Poor Nat!"

"What is it?" faltered Mr. Figgins, faintly. 

"Did you not see the cord taken away with Nat?" demanded the captain, in a funereal bass. 

"Ye-es. "

"Then hark. "

Mr. Figgins did hark, and an awful sound reached him from behind thecurtain. 

It was more like the expiring groans of a hapless porker in the handsof a ruthless butcher, than any thing else you could compare it to. 

A fatal struggle was going on behind the curtain. 

Groans and dying wails were heard for awhile. 

Awful sounds. 

Then all was still. 

"Oh, what is it?" murmured the orphan, in distress. 

"Squiziz Wizen, the pasha's executioner, has dealt upon poor NatCringle. "

"What!" gasped Figgins. 

"Bowstrung, " returned Captain Deering. 

The orphan turned faint. 

Then he turned to the door, and would have fled. 

"Oh, let me go home, " he cried. "I don't feel happy here. "

But Deering stayed him. 

"You must not go, Mr. Figgins, " whispered Captain Deering. 

"Why not?"

"His excellency is about to address us. "

The pasha coughed. 

"_Quel est votre jeu?_" demanded his excellency. 

"What does he say?" asked Figgins. 

"Batta pudn, " continued his excellency, with a gracious air; "also bonoJonni. "

"He says you may present whatever you have brought, " whispered thecaptain. 

"I've brought nothing, " returned Mr. Figgins. 

"Nothing?"

"No; I forgot. "

"Thoughtless man, " said Captain Deering. "Take this. "

He thrust a parcel of brown paper into his hands. 

"What shall I do with it?"

"Place it on the cushion before his excellency. "

Mr. Figgins complied. 

"Luciousosity, " said the pasha, looking upon the offering greedily. 

Then he clapped his hands vigorously three times. 

The minister appeared, leading two veiled ladies. 

The pasha made some remarks in his own language, which Captain Deeringwas commissioned to render into English. 

"His excellency, recognising your generous offering, " said he, "presents you with the choicest gifts of his seraglio, two wives. Youmust cherish them through life. "

The orphan's countenance fell at this. 

The capital punishment of poor Nat Cringle was as nothing to this. 

"Tell him I'd rather not take two, " he whispered to Deering. 

"Why not?" ejaculated the latter. 

"I wish to live single. "

The bearded minister approached, leading the two veiled beauties. 

"Oh! oh, dear, " groaned the poor orphan. 

He placed a gloved hand of each upon Mr. Figgins's shoulders. 

Then, upon a given signal, they threw their arms around the orphan andhugged him, while a violent cachinnation was heard. 

"What a lovely smile, " said Captain Deering. "Did you hear it?"

"Oh! Please don't, " cried the orphan. 

He struggled to get free. 

But the beauties of the seraglio held him tight. 

The orphan grew desperate, and jerked himself out of their clutches. 

But in the tussle down he flopped on the ground again. 

"Infidel dog!" roared the pasha, venting his wrath in English, "barbarian and idolater, thou shalt die!"

Thereupon, Captain Deering dropped down beside the orphan, and sued formercy. 

"Be merciful, O great prince!" he cried. "Have pity on your humblestslave. His heart is filled with gratitude. "

The pasha growled some reply that was indistinct, but which to thestartled Figgins, sounded like the rumbling of distant thunder. 

"Oh, what shall I do?" moaned the orphan. "Oh, somebody take me home. "

"Silence, " whispered Captain Deering. "Prostrate yourself as they do. Bury your face and be silent, until his excellency bids you rise. Hemay then overlook it. "

Mr. Figgins scarce dared to breathe. 

There he lay, with his face upon the ground, humbly awaiting the sterndespot's permission to move. 

 * * * *

He waited long--very long. 

While he waited thus, a strange commotion was observed amongst thepasha's suite. 

The chief officer removed his turban and beard, and--wonderful torelate!--beneath it was the laughing face of Harry Girdwood. 

He winked at his august master, who hurriedly removed his turban andbeard as well. 

And then the pasha bore a marvellous resemblance to Jack Harkaway theyounger. 

They helped to drag off each other's robes--for beneath their Turkishgarments were their everyday clothes. 

The veiled beauties of the harem were disrobed. 

Beneath their veils and feminine attire they were familiarly garbed, and a glance revealed them to be Tinker and his body-guard Bogey. 

"Now then, Mr. Figgins, " said Nat Cringle, "wake up. "

The orphan looked up in amazement at the sound. 

"Nat Cringle!"

"Hullo!"

Mr. Figgins looked about in wonderment. 

Facing him was Jack Harkaway, sitting upon a camp stool, and beside himstood his constant companion, Harry Girdwood. 

Engaged in conversation with them was Captain Deering, and the subjectof their conversation appeared to be the orphan himself. 

The Turkish soldiers and people generally forming the pasha's suite haddisappeared, and in their places were several sailors, some of whomappeared to be considerably amused at something. 

When Mr. Figgins sat up and looked about him, he muttered--

"What's all this?"

"A very serious case, Harry, " said Jack, gravely. 

"Very. "

"A case for the doctor. "

"What do you mean?"

"These habits of drinking grow upon one, " said Harry Girdwood, sadly. 

"I don't understand, " faltered the orphan. 

"Shall we help you to bed, sir?" asked one of the sailorscompassionately. 

"Never!" cried Mr. Figgins, with majesty. 

"Oh, yes, do, " said Harry. 

But nerved to desperation, the orphan tore himself away from them, anddarted to the door. 

"I shall go and report upon these outrageous doings to the captain ofthe ship, " he said, drawing himself up. 

"Here's the captain himself, " said a good-natured voice behind him. "And now, what can he do for you, Mr. Figgins?"

The orphan turned. 

There was the captain. 

"Mr. Figgins, " said the captain, with a serious air, and shaking hisforefinger at him, "you have been indulging very early in the day. "

"What?"

He could endure no more. 

With a cry of disgust, he dashed past the captain, and scrambled up thestairs on deck. 

Once there, he shot like a race horse along the deck, and gaining hisown berth, he locked himself in. 

But even here he could not shut out the ringing laughter of theincorrigible practical jokers. 

Mr. Figgins, as you may guess, was seen no more that day. 

 * * * *

Upon the day following the events just related, Jack received lettersfrom home. 

And among them was one which created no little excitement amongst thenearest friends of Jack Harkaway. 

"Do you think it probable that he'll come?"

"I shouldn't wonder, " said Harry Girdwood. 

"I should like to see his dear old face again, " said Jack. 

"I'll bet a penny that we shall see him here yet; if not here, at leastat our next stage, " said Harry. 

"It would be a rare treat to talk with someone who had seen our dearfolks at home. "

"It would indeed. I hope he will come. "

And who did they hope would come?

Can you not guess reader? No. 

Then read on, and you will learn who it was and what were the reasonswhich were to bring a friend from home roaming to this distant shore tomeet Jack and his friends. 

CHAPTER LXIV. 

THE SAPIENT DOCTOR MUGGINS CAME IN HASTE--IMPEDIMENTS IN THE WAY OFTHE PRESCRIPTION--DWELLS ON ARTIFICIAL LIMBS--OLD-REMINISCENCES--THETORMENTOR. 

Reader, we will return for a little time to our old friend, Mole, inEngland. 

Mr. Mole was sad. 

For so many years of his life had old Isaac Mole led a wanderingcareer, that he found it exceedingly difficult, not to say irksome, tosettle down to the prosy existence which they had all dropped into. 

He never complained, it is true. 

But he fell into a sort of settled melancholy, which nothing couldshake off, and even grew neglectful of the bottle. 

His friends grew anxious. 

They wished him to take medical advice. 

He resisted all persuasion stoutly. 

So they had recourse to artifice, and invited an eminent medical man totheir house as a visitor. 

And then under the guise of a friendly chat, the doctor took hisobservations. 

But the peculiar ailment, if ailment it could be called, of Isaac Mole, completely baffled the man of science at first. 

It was only in a casual conversation that, being an observing man, hediscovered the real truth. 

"Our patient wants a roving commission, " said the physician to himself. 

And then he communicated his own convictions to old Jack. 

"I scarcely believe it possible, doctor, " said Jack. 

But the doctor was positive. 

"Nothing will do him any good but to get on the move; I'm as sure ofthat as I am that he has no physical ailment. "

"What's to be done then?" demanded Harkaway. "He can't travel alone. "

"I don't know that, " said the doctor; "he's hale and wiry enough. Theonly difficulty that I can see, is Mrs. Mole. "

"I'll undertake to get over that, " said Jack. 

"You will?"

"Yes. "

"It is settled then, " said the physician, with a smile. 

"Good. "

"What would do him more good than all the physic in the world, would beto send him after your son. "

"My Jack!"

"Yes. "

"Impossible. Why, Jack is _en route_ for Turkey. "

"What of that?" coolly inquired the doctor. 

"Consider the distance, my dear doctor. "

"Pshaw, sir. Distance is nothing nowadays. It was a very differentthing when I was a boy. Take my word for it, Mr. Harkaway, our patientwill jump at the chance. "

"He's very much attached to my roving boy. "

"I know it, " returned the doctor. "Never a day passes but he speaks ofhim; I declare that I never had a single interview with Mr. Mole, butthat he has managed somehow to turn the conversation upon your son andhis pranks. "

"Oh, Jack, he has played him some dreadful tricks. "

"Yes, " returned the physician dryly, "and so has Jack's father, by allaccounts. "

"Ahem!"

"And yet I really believe that he enjoys the recollection of the boy'sinfamous practical jokes. "

"I believe you are right, " responded Harkaway. 

A day or two later on the doctor was seated with Mr. Mole. 

"Mr. Mole. "

"Doctor. "

"Your health must be looked to. You'll have to travel. "

"How, doctor?" said Mole. 

"Young Harkaway is in foreign parts, and his prolonged absence causeshis parents considerable uneasiness, and you must go and look afterhim. "

Mole's eyes twinkled. 

"Do you mean it?"

"I do. When would you like to start?"

"To-day. "

"Very good. The sooner the better, " said the doctor. 

Mr. Mole's countenance fell suddenly. 

An ugly thought crossed him. 

What would Mrs. Mole say?

"There is one matter I would like to consult you on, doctor. "

"What might that be?" demanded the doctor. 

"My wife might have a word to say upon the subject. "

"I will undertake to remove her scruples, " said the doctor. 

"You will?"

"Yes. She will never object when she knows how important your missionis. "

"Doctor, " exclaimed Mr. Mole, joyously; "you are a trump. "

A delay naturally occurred, however. 

Mr. Mole could not travel with his wooden stumps, his friends one andall agreed. 

No. 

He must have a pair of cork legs made. 

The doctor who had been attending our old friend knew of a maker ofartificial limbs who was a wonderful man, according to all accounts. 

"Yes, " said Mole, "cork legs well hosed will----"

At this moment a voice tuning up under the window cut him short, "He gave his own leg to the undertaker, And sent for a skilful cork-leg maker. Ritooral looral. "

"That's Dick Harvey. Infamous!" ejaculated Mr. Mole. 

 "On a brace of broomsticks never I'll walk, But I'll have symmetrical limbs of cork. Ritooral looral. "

"Monstrous!" exclaimed Mr. Mole; "close the window, sir, if youplease. "

It was all very well to say "Close it, " but this was easier said thandone. 

Dick Harvey had fixed it beyond the skill of that skilful mechanicianto unfasten. 

 * * * *

The aggravating minstrel continued without--

 "Than timber this cork is better by half, Examine likewise my elegant calf. Ritooral looral----"

"I will have that window closed, " cried Mole. 

He arose, forgetting in his haste that he was minus one leg, and downhe rolled. 

The artificial limb-maker lunged after him, and succeeded with infinitedifficulty in getting him on to his feet again. 

"Dear, dear!" said Mr. Mole. "No matter, I can manage it. "

He picked up the nearest object to hand, and hurled it out of window. 

CHAPTER LXV. 

HOW THE ORPHAN BECAME POSSESSED OF A FLUTE. 

But we must leave Mole for a time, and return to our friends on theirtravels. 

When next they landed at a Turkish town, Mr. Figgins went to adifferent hotel to that patronised by young Jack, whose practicaljoking was rather too much for the orphan. 

But they found him out, and paid him a visit one morning. 

After the first greeting, Mr. Figgins was observed to be unusuallythoughtful. 

At length, after a long silence he exclaimed--

"I can't account for it, I really can't. "

"What can't you account for, Mr. Figgins?" asked young Jack. 

"The strange manners of the people of this country, " answered theorphan. 

"Of what is it you have to complain particularly?" inquired Jack. 

"Well, it's this; wherever I go, I seem to be quite an object ofcuriosity. "

"Of interest you mean, Mr. Figgins, " returned Jack, winking at HarryGirdwood; "you are an Englishman, you know, and Englishmen are alwaysvery interesting to foreigners. "

"I can't say as to that, " the orphan replied; "I only know I can't showmy nose out of doors without being pointed at. "

"Ah, yes. You excite interest the moment you make your appearance. "

"Then, if I walk in the streets, dark swarthy men stare at me andfollow me till I have quite a crowd at my heels. "

"Another proof of the interest they take in you. "

"Well, I don't like it at all, " said the orphan, fretfully; "and thenthe dogs bark at me in a very distressing manner. "

"It's the only way they have of bidding you welcome, " remarked HarryGirdwood. 

"I wish they wouldn't take any notice of me at all; it's a nuisance. "

"Perhaps you'd like them to leave off barking, and take to biting?"

"No, it's just what I shouldn't like, but it's what I'm constantlyafraid they will do, " wailed the poor orphan. 

There was a slight pause, during which young Jack and his comradegrinned quietly at each other, and presently the former said--

"I think I can account for all this. "

"Can you?" asked Mr. Figgins. "How?"

"It all lies in the dress you wear. "

"In the dress?"

"Yes; you are in a Turkish country, and although I admit you look wellin your splendid new tourist suit, cross-barred all over in fourcolours, I fancy it would be better if you dressed as a Turk duringyour stay here. "

"A Turk, Jack?"

"Yes; now, if you were to have your head shaved, and dress yourselflike a Turk, " said Jack, "all this wonderment would cease, and youwould go out, and come in, without exciting any remark. "

Mr. Figgins fell back in his chair. 

"Ha-ha-have my head sha-a-ved, dress myself up li-like a Turk?" hegasped. "You surely don't mean that?"

"I do, indeed, " replied Jack, seriously. 

"What? Wear baggy breeches, and an enormous turban, and slippers turnedup at the toes! What would the natives say?"

"Why, they'd say you were a very sensible individual, " remarked Harry. "Don't you remember the old saying?--'When you're in Turkey, you mustdo as Turkey does. '"

Mr. Figgins reflected for a moment. 

"And you really think if I were to go in, for a regular Turkishfit-out, I should be allowed to enjoy my walks in peace?" he asked, atlength. 

"Decidedly, " answered his counsellors, with the utmost gravity. 

"Then I'll take your advice, and be a Turk until further notice, " saidthe orphan; "but there's one thing still. "

"What's that?"

"My complexion isn't near dark enough for one of these infidels. "

"Oh, that won't matter, " said Jack; "only slip into the Turkish togs. Go in for any quantity of turban, and they won't care a button aboutyour complexion. "

"Very well, then, that's settled; I'll turn Turk at once. But must Ihave my head shaved?"

"That's important, " said Jack. 

Having made up his mind on that point, the orphan at once put on hishat, and taking a sip of brandy to compose his nerves, he salliedforth, directing his steps to the nearest barber's. 

On his way thither he attracted the usual amount of attention, and whenhe reached the barber's shop, he found himself accompanied by a selectcrowd of deriding Turks, and a dozen or so of yelping curs, shoutingand barking in concert. 

The barber received him with the extreme of Eastern courtesy. 

"What does the English signor require at the hands of the humblest ofhis slaves?" was the deferential inquiry. 

"I have a fancy to turn Turk, and I want my head shaved, " explained Mr. Figgins, nervously; "pray be careful, since I'm only a poor orphan, who----"

Before he had time to finish his sentence, he found himself wedged intoa chair with a towel under his chin. 

The next moment his head, under the energetic manipulation of theoperator, was a creamy mass of lather. 

"Be sure and don't cut my head off, " murmured the orphan, as he watchedthe razor flashing to and fro along the strop. 

"Your servant will not disturb the minutest pimple, " said the barber. 

With wonderful celerity, the artist went to work. 

In less than two minutes the cranium of Mark Antony Figgins was assmooth and destitute of hair as a bladder of lard. 

Then followed the process of shampooing, which was very soothing to theorphan's feelings. 

At length, the operation being completed, the barber bade the orphanput on his hat--which from the loss of his hair went over his eyes andrested on his nose--and left the shop. 

His friends--the mob and the dogs--had waited for him outside verypatiently. 

If his appearance had been interesting before, their interest was nowgreatly increased. 

A loud shout welcomed him, and he proceeded along the street underdifficulties, holding his hat in one hand, with the crowd at his heels. 

Straight to the bazaar he went. 

Here he found a venerable old Turkish Jew, who seemed to divine byinstinct what he wanted. 

"Closhe, shignor, closhe, " he cried in broken English. "Shtep in andtake your choice. "

Before the bewildered orphan knew where he was, he found himself in theinterior of Ibrahim's emporium. 

Here a profusion of garments were displayed before his eyes. 

Having no preference for any particular colour, he took what the Jewpressed upon him. 

In a short time his costume was complete, consisting of a pair of amplewhite trousers, and a blue shirt, surmounted by a crimson vest, securedat the waist by a purple sash, and on his feet a pair of yellowslippers of Morocco leather. 

The turban alone was wanting. 

"Be sure and let me have a good big turban, " urged Mr. Figgins. 

Ibrahim assured him that he should have one as big as he could carry, and he kept his word. 

Unrolling a great many yards of stuff, he formed a turban of enormousdimensions of green and yellow stripe, which he placed upon the head ofhis customer. 

"Shall I do? Do I look like a native Turk?" asked the latter, after hehad put on his things. 

"Do?" echoed the Jew, exultingly. "If it ish true dat de closhe makesde man, you vill do excellent vell, and de people vill not now runafter you. "

Mr. Figgins having settled his account with the Hebrew clothier, andpaid just three times as much as he ought to have done, went out againwith considerable confidence, looking as gaudy in his mixture of brightcolours as a macaw. 

"No one will dare to jeer at me now, " he persuaded himself. 

But he was mistaken. 

Hardly had he taken a half dozen steps when his brilliant costumeattracted great notice. 

"What a splendid Turk!" cried some. 

"Who is that magnificent bashaw?" asked others, as he strutted past. 

No one knew, and upon a nearer examination it was seen that the"splendid Turk" and "magnificent bashaw" was no Turk at all. 

Indignation seized upon those who had a moment before been filled withadmiration. 

"Impostor, unbelieving dog!" shouted the enraged populace. "He is anaccursed Giaour, in the dress of a follower of the Prophet. "

At this, a fierce yell rose upon the air. 

"Down with the wretch!"

"Tear him to pieces!"

"Let him be impaled!" cried the multitude. 

With these dire threats, the angry crowd rushed towards Mr. Figgins, headed by a short, fat Turk, who was particularly indignant. 

The luckless orphan, anxious to avoid the terrible doom that wasthreatening him, rushed away in an opposite direction. 

The Turks are not, as a rule, remarkable for swift running. 

Mr. Figgins, whose pace was quickened by the dreadful prospect of astake through his body, would have easily distanced them. 

But unfortunately, his green and yellow striped turban, dislodged fromits position, fell--as his hat had previously done--over his eyes, andalmost smothered him. 

He tugged away at it as he ran, in order to get rid of it. 

But all he succeeded in doing was to loosen one of the ends. 

Gradually the turban began to unwind itself, the end trailing on theground. 

The Turk in pursuit caught up this end, and grasping it firmly, broughtall his weight to bear upon the fugitive. 

Suddenly the hapless Figgins began to feel strong symptoms ofstrangulation. 

The next moment, a sharp jerk from the burly Turk pulled him to theground. 

But this saved him. 

No sooner was he prostrate on his back than the turban slipped from hishead, and he was free. 

Springing to his feet, he darted off at a speed which no human grocercould ever have dreamt of. 

He was soon far beyond pursuit. 

All he had lost was his green and yellow striped turban. 

But the loss of that, though it somewhat fretted him, had saved hislife. 

He found himself in a retired spot, and no one being near, he sat downto reflect and recover his breath. 

"What a country this is, " he thought; "pleasant enough, though, as faras the climate goes; but the people in it are awful! What a lot ofbloodthirsty, bilious-looking wretches, to be sure; ready to consign totorture and death a poor innocent, unprotected orphan because hehappens to be of a different colour from themselves!"

So perturbed were the thoughts of Mr. Figgins that he was obliged tosmoke a cigar to soothe himself. 

But even this failed to quiet his agitated nerves. 

His mind was full of gloomy apprehensions. 

"Where am I?" he asked himself. "How am I to get home? I shall be sureto meet some of the rabble, and with them and the dogs I shall be tornto pieces. What will become of me--wretched orphan that I am! Whatshall I do?"

Hardly had he uttered these distressful exclamations when a prolongednote of melody caught his ear. 

"Hark!" he said to himself, "there is music. 'Music hath charms tosoothe the savage breast, ' says the poet, and it seems to have asoothing effect upon my nerves. "

The strain had died away, and was heard no longer. 

Mark Antony Figgins was in despair. 

"Play again, sweet instrument, " he cried, anxiously, "play again. "

Again the sweet note sounded and again the solitary orphan feltcomforted. 

"It's a flute; it must be a flute, " he murmured to himself, as helistened. "I always liked the flute. It's so soft and melancholy. "

The grocer had a faint recollection of his boyhood's days, when he hadbeen a tolerably efficient performer on a penny whistle. 

Just at this moment the mournful note he heard recalled the pastvividly. 

So vividly, that Mr. Figgins, in the depths of his loneliness, fixedhis eyes sadly on the turned-up toes of his leather slippers, and wept. 

As the melody proceeded, so did the drops pour more copiously from theorphan's eyes. 

And no wonder, for of all the doleful too-tooings ever uttered by windinstrument, this was the dolefullest. 

But it suited Mr. Figgin's mood at that moment. 

"It's a Turkish flute, I suppose, " he sobbed; "but it's verybeau-u-u-tiful. I wish I had a flute. "

He got up and looked round, and found himself outside an enclosure ofthick trees. 

It was evidently within this enclosure the flute player was located. 

As the reader knows, there was nothing bold or daring about Mark AntonyFiggins. 

But now the flute seemed to have inspired him with a kind ofsupernatural recklessness. 

"I'd give almost any thing for that flute, " he murmured to himself. "Ifeel that I should like to play the flute. I wonder who it is playingit, and whether he'd sell it?"

The unseen performer, at this juncture, burst forth into such apowerfully shrill cadence that the orphan was quite thrilled withdelight. 

"A railway whistle's a fool to it!" he cried, as he clapped his handsin ecstasy. "Bravo, bravo! Encore!"

Having shouted his applause till he was hoarse, he walked along by theside of the wall, seeking anxiously for some place of entrance. 

At length he came to an open gate. 

A stout gentleman--unmistakably a Turk--with a crimson cap on his head, ornamented with a tassel, and a long, reed-like instrument in his hand, was looking cautiously forth. 

It was evidently the musician, who, having been interrupted in hissolo, had come to see who the delinquent was that had disturbed him. 

The enthusiastic Figgins had caught sight of the flute, and that wassufficient. 

Forgetting his usual nervous timidity, he rushed forward. 

"My dear sir, " he exclaimed, "it was exquisite--delicious! Pray obligeme with another tune--or, if you have no objection, let me attemptone. "

As he spoke, the excited Figgins stretched forth both his hands. 

The owner of the flute, who evidently suspected an attempt at robbery, quietly placed his instrument behind him, and looking hard at Figgins, said sternly--

"What son of a dog art thou?"

To which Figgins replied mildly--

"You're mistaken, my dear sir; I'm the son of my father and mother, butthey--alas!--are no more, and I am now only a poor desolate orphan. "

The tears trickled from his eyes as he spoke. 

The Turk did not appear in the least affected. 

"What bosh is all this?" he asked, after a moment, in a hard, unsympathetic tone. 

"It's no bosh at all, I assure you, my dear signor, " replied Figgins, earnestly; "the fact is, I heard you play on your flute, and its sweettones so soothed my spirits--which are at this moment extremelylow--that I am come to make several requests. "

"Umph!" growled the Turk; "what are they?"

"First, that you will play me another of your charming airs, next, thatyou will allow me to attempt one myself, and thirdly, that you willsell me the instrument you hold in your hand. '"

The Turk glared for a moment fiercely at the proposer of these modestrequests, and then politely wishing the graves of his departedrelatives might be perpetually defiled, he replied curtly--

"First, I am not going to play any more to-night; next, I will see youin Jehanum[1] before I allow you to play; and thirdly, I won't sell myflute. "

 [1] The abode of lost spirits. 

With these words, he stepped back into the garden and slammed the gatein Mr. Figgins' face. 

"I shall never get over this, " Figgins murmured to himself, gloomily;"that flute would have cheered my solitary hours, and that ruthlessTurk refuses to part with it. Now, indeed, I feel my peace of mind isgone forever. "

His grief at this juncture became so overpowering, that he leantagainst the door, and in his despair hammered it with his head. 

Suddenly the door burst open, and the distressed orphan, in all hisbrilliant array, shot backwards into some shrubs of a prickly nature, whose sharp thorns added to his agonizing sensations. 

"Will anybody be kind enough to put an end to my misery?" he wailed, ashe lay on his back, feeling as though he had been transformed into ahuman pincushion. 

He was not a little surprised to hear a familiar voice exclaim--

"Lor' bless me! dat you, Massa Figgins?"

Glancing up, he espied the black face of Bogey looking down upon him. 

"Yes, it's me, " he answered, in a wailing tone; "help me up. "

"Gib me you fist, " cried Bogey. 

Mr. Figgins extended his hand, and the negro grasping it, by a vigorousjerk hoisted the prostrate grocer out of his thorny bed, tingling allover as though he had been stung by nettles. 

Bogey was quite astounded at the transformation of his dress. 

"Why, Massa Figgins, what out-and-out guy you look!" he exclaimed;"whar all you hair gone to?"

The orphan only groaned. 

He was thinking of another h-air (without the h), the air he had heardon the Turkish flute. 

Just at that moment the too-too-too of the instrument sounded again. 

Figgins stood like one absorbed. 

All his agonizing pains were at once forgotten. 

"How sweet, how plaintive!" he murmured to himself; "too-too-too, tooty-tooty-too!" he hummed, in imitation of the sound. 

Bogey heard it also, and involuntarily put his hands on big stomach andmade a comically wry face. 

"Whar dat orful squeakin' row?" he asked. 

"Hush, hush!" exclaimed the orphan, holding up his hands reprovingly, and turning up his eyes at the same time; "it's heavenly music; it's aflute, my boyhood's favourite instrument. "

"Gorra!" muttered Bogey; "it 'nuff to gib a fellar de mullingrubs alldown him back and up him belly. "

He looked towards Mr. Figgins, and seeing him standing with his handsclasped looking like a white-washed Turk in a trance, he said--

"What de matter wid yer, Massa Figgins? Am you ill?"

"That flute, that melodious flute, that breathes forth dulcet notes ofpeace, " murmured the orphan, in a deep, absorbed whisper. "I must havethat flute. "

Bogey felt a little anxious. 

"Me t'ink Massa Figgins getting lilly soft in him nut; him losing himhair turn him mad, " he said to himself. 

"I must have that flute, " repeated the grocer, in the same abstractedtone and manner. "I should think it cheap at ten pounds. "

Bogey, on hearing this, opened his eyes very wide. 

He thought he saw a chance of doing a profitable bit of business on hisown account. 

So, after an instant, he said quietly--

"Good flute worth more dan ten pounds; rale good blower like dat worthtwenty at de bery least. "

"Yes, yes; I'd give twenty willingly, " murmured the wrapt Figgins. 

"Bery good, " said Bogey, as he instantly disappeared through the gate. 

The orphan remained waiting without. 

The "too-too-tooing" was going on in the usual doleful and melancholymanner, and guided by the sound, Bogey crept forward till he came insight of the performer, who was seated in a snug nook in his gardenplaying away to his heart's content; or, as the negro supposed, endeavouring to frighten away the birds. 

Bogey took stock of the stout player and his flute. 

Creeping along the shrubbery till he had got exactly opposite to theflautist, he, in the midst of the too-too-tooing, uttered an unearthlygroan. 

"Inshallah!" exclaimed the Turk, stopping suddenly; "what was that?"

"It war me, " groaned the hidden Bogey more deeply than before. 

"Who are you?" faltered the musician, hearing the mysterious voice, butseeing no one. 

"Me am special messenger from de Prophet, " Bogey replied. 

"Allah Kerim! my dream is coming true. Is it the Prophet speaks?"gasped the Turk, his olive cheeks turning the hue of saffron. 

"Iss, it de profit brings me here, " returned Bogey, truthfully. 

"What message does he send to his slave?" asked the old Turk. 

"He say you make sich orful row wid dat flute he can git no sleep, an', derefore, he send me to stop it. You got to gib up de flute direckly. "

The teeth of the half-silly musician were chattering in his head. 

His optics rolled wildly from side to side. 

Just at this crisis Bogey, with his eyes glaring and his white teethfully exposed, thrust his black face from the foliage. 

"Drop it, " he cried, with a hideous grin. 

He had no occasion to repeat the command. 

With a yell of terror the horrified Turkish gentleman, who was reallyhalf an idiot, and was just then away from his keepers, let fall hisinstrument from his trembling fingers, and starting up, waddled awayfrom the spot as though the furies were after him, while the specialmessenger of the Prophet quietly picked up the flute with a chuckle, and retraced his steps to the gate. 

Here he found Mr. Figgins. 

He could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw the negro with theprecious instrument in his hand. 

"The flute, the flute!" he cried, "the soother of sorrow, the orphan'scomforter. Let me clutch you in my grasp. Oh, it brings back myboyhood's days. "

As he spoke, he rushed forward eagerly to seize the treasure. 

But Bogey stuck to it. 

"Money fust, Massa Figgins, " he said, with a grin, "twenty poun' am deprice, yah know, an' dis a fuss-rate blower. Too-too-too, tooty-tum-too, " he sounded on the instrument. 

The orphan was frantic. 

"I haven't twenty pounds with me, " he exclaimed, excitedly, "but I'llpay you the moment we get home, and five pounds over for interest. Youknow I'm well off, and am also a man of my word. "

Bogey did know this, and was not afraid to trust him. 

"Well, den, dere de flute, " he said; "but don't begin too-too-tooin'till we git good way off, else p'r'aps de gem'l'm wid de red cap hearand send a dog arter de speshal messenger of de Prophet. "

Mr. Figgins pledged himself not to blow a note till they were a milefrom the spot at least, and on the strength of this promise, Bogey gavehim up the instrument. 

But no sooner did the excited orphan find it in his possession than heforgot all his promises, and putting the flute to his lips, he at oncecommenced "The Girl I Left Behind Me, " in the most brilliant manner--sobrilliant indeed that it reached the ears of the owner inside, and, asBogey had shrewdly suspected would be the case, the latter began tohave some slight suspicions that he had been done out of his flute byan impostor. 

Very soon his voice was heard calling his dogs, and almost immediatelyloud barkings were heard. 

"Run, run, Massa Figgins, or de dogs tear yah to pieces, " shoutedBogey. 

"They may tear me limb from limb, " returned the orphan "but they shan'trob me of my flute. "

And without taking the instrument from his lips, off he ran playing"Cheer, Boys, Cheer, " as he hurried along. 

The next moment out rushed several gaunt-looking animals, and gavechase to the musical Figgins, urged on by their mad master, who wasfollowing them. 

Bogey waited for him at the gate. 

As he came forth puffing, grunting, and blowing, the negro put out hisfoot, and over he went on his nose. 

"Go back, massa bag breeches, " cried Bogey, fiercely. 

He added to the effect of his words by applying a switch he carried tothe fat hind-quarters of the Turk, who was glad to scramble in at hisgate on all fours, and shut it to keep out the "special messenger" andhis cane. 

When Bogey came up with Mr. Figgins, he found that usually timidpersonage with his back against a tree, doing battle with his caninefoes, who were making sad havoc with his Moslem garments. 

"Bravo, Massa Figgins, " cried Bogey, as he rushed in among the yelpingpack, "we soon get rid of dese heah. "

With this he laid about him with such energy that the Turkish dogs, utterly bewildered, dropped their ears, and tucking their tails betweentheir legs, slunk howling away, whilst the triumphant orphanaccompanied their flight with a lively tune on his flute. 

Accompanied by Bogey, Mark Antony reached his quarters in safety. 

He then promptly paid the price of his instrument, and at once sethimself steadily to practise, to the great horror of all in the house. 

 * * * *

A week passed. Then the following conversation took place between youngJack Harkaway and his comrade Harry Girdwood. 

"I say, old fellow, are you fond of music?"

"Well, it all depends what sort of music it is, " Jack replied. 

"What do you think of Figgins' instrumental performance?"

"Well, I think it's an awful row. "

"So do I; but he doesn't seem to think so. "

"No; he's always at it; all day long and half through the night; he'llblow himself inside his flute if he goes on at this rate. I consider itcomes under the head of a nuisance. "

"Most decidedly, " said Jack, "and like other nuisances, must be put astop to. "

"All right: let's send for him at once. "

Bogey was summoned and dispatched with a polite message from youngJack, that he would be glad to speak to him. 

On receiving the message, he repaired at once to the room where Jackand Harry Girdwood were located, preparing another practical joke forthe benefit of the orphan. 

Mr. Figgins took his flute with him, and too-tooed all the way till hereached the door of Jack's room. 

For Jack and Harry, it should be mentioned, had followed the orphan tohis new abode, and secured rooms in the same house. 

He entered. 

"Sit down, Mr. Figgins, " said Jack. 

Mr. Figgins sat down, nursing his flute. 

"I have sent for you, " Jack commenced. 

"Ah, I see, you wish for a tune, " cried the orphan, with much hilarity, as he put the flute to his lips and began to play. 

"On the contrary, " cried Jack, quickly; "it's just what we don't wishfor; we should be glad if you'd come to a stop. "

Mr. Figgins opened his eyes with astonishment. 

"Come to a stop, " he echoed; "is it possible that you wish to stop myflute? Why, I thought you liked music. "

"So I do, " Jack replied, drily, "when it is music. "

"And isn't my flute music? Are not its tones soft and sweet andsoothing to the spirits?"

"We have found them quite the reverse, " Jack assured him; "in fact, ifyou don't put away your flute, you'll drive us both mad, and then Iwouldn't like to answer for the consequences--which might be awful. "

Mr. Figgins looked aghast. 

"The idea of such exquisite music as my instrument discourses drivinganyone mad, " he exclaimed at length, "is past belief. "

"You may call it exquisite music, but we call it an awful row, " Jackreplied, candidly, "therefore have the goodness to shut up. "

The orphan drew himself up and clutched his flute in a kind ofconvulsive indignation. 

"I object to shutting up, Mr. Harkaway, " he exclaimed, determinately;"in fact, I will not shut up. In this dulcet instrument I have found abalm for all my woes, and I intend to play it incessantly for the restof my existence. "

"You'll blow yourself into a consumption, " said Harry Girdwood. 

"Well, if I do, I'm only a poor orphan whom no one will regret, "returned Mr. Figgins, a tear trickling down his nose at the thought ofhis lonely condition; "I shall die breathing forth some mournfulmelody, and my flute will----"

"You can leave that to us as a legacy, and we'll put it under a glasscase, " said Harry. 

"No; my flute shall be buried with me in the silent grave. "

"We don't care what you do with it after you're dead, " returned Jack, "but we object to being annoyed with it while you're alive. "

"Oh, you shan't be exposed to any further annoyances on my account, "said the orphan, rising grandly; "I and my flute will take ourdeparture together. "

With these words he left the room, and very shortly afterwards quittedthe house. 

 * * * *

Mr. Figgins being determined to keep apart from the Harkaway party, gave up the rooms he had taken, and after some search found anotherlodging in the upper chamber of a house in a retired part of the town. 

Here he determined to settle down, and devote himself with more ardourthan ever to the practice of his favourite instrument. 

 * * * *

It was night. 

Mr. Figgins was in bed, but he could get no sleep. 

Curious insects, common to Eastern climes, crawled forth from chinks inthe walls and cracks in the floor, and nibbled the orphan in variousparts of his anatomy till he felt as if the surface of his skin was onelarge blister. 

"What a dreadful climate is this, " he murmured, as he sat up in bed;"nothing but creeping things everywhere. Phew! what's to be done?"

He reflected a moment. 

"I have it!" he exclaimed, "my flute, my precious flute, that willsoothe me. "

Hopping nimbly out of bed, he dressed himself in his European costume, seized his instrument, and began a tune. 

He had been playing all day long, and the other lodgers in the housewere congratulating themselves on the cessation of the infliction, whensuddenly the instrumental torture commenced again. 

"Too-too, too-tum-too, tooty-tum, tooty-tum, too-tum-too, " went theflute, in a more shrill and vigorous manner than ever, whilst a selectparty of dogs, attracted by the melody, assembled under the window andhowled in concert. 

In the chamber next to that occupied by the infatuated Figgins lodged aTurk, Bosja by name. 

Bosja, in the first place, had no taste for music, and particularlydetested the sound of a flute. 

Secondly, he was suffering from an excruciating toothache, and theincessant too-tum, too-tum, tooty-tum-too--with the additional music ofthe dogs--drove him mad. 

He was sitting up with his pipe in his mouth, and a green, yellow-striped turban pulled down over his ears, trying to shut out thesound, but in vain. 

"Oh, oh! Allah be merciful to me!" he groaned, as the irritated nervegave him an extra twinge. 

"Too-too, too-tum-too, too-tum, too-tum, tooty-tum-too, " from theorphan's flute answered him. 

"Allah confound the wretch with his tooty-tum-too!" growled thedistracted sufferer; "if he only knew what I am enduring. "

But this Mr. Figgins did not know. 

Probably he would not have cared if he had known, and he continued topour forth melodious squeakings to his own entire satisfaction. 

At length the patience of Bosja was utterly exhausted, and he summonedthe landlady. 

"What son of Shitan have you got in the next room?" he demanded of her, fiercely. 

"I know very little of him, " returned the mistress of the house; "onlythat he is a Frankish gentleman, who dresses sometimes as a Turk, andhas lately come to lodge here. "

"He is a dog, and the son of a dog! May his flute choke him, and hisfather's grave be defiled!" growled the irascible Turk, "tell him toleave off, or I will kill him and burn his flute. "

The landlady went at once and tapped at the door of the musical lodger. 

There was no response save the too-too-too of the flute. 

"Signor!" she called after a moment. 

"What's the matter?" inquired Mr. Figgins from within; "do you wish meto come and play you a tune?" and he then continued "too-too, tooty-too. "

"The gentleman in the next room objects to the sound of your flute. "

"Does he?--tooty-too, tooty-too. "

"Yes; and he begs you'll leave off. "

"I shan't!--tooty-tum, tooty-tum, tooty-too. I intend to play allnight. "

The landlady, having delivered her message, went downstairs. 

Mr. Figgins still continued to blow away and the agonized Bosja tomutter curses not loud, but deep, upon his head and his instrument. 

But patience has its limits, and Bosja, never remarkable for thatvirtue, having sworn all the oaths he knew twice over, at last sprangfrom his bed, and dashing down his pipe, rapped fiercely at the wall. 

"What do you want? Shall I come and play a few tunes to you?" inquiredthe orphan, placidly pausing for an instant. 

"You vile son of perdition, stop that accursed noise!" shouted theTurk. 

"Too-too, tooty-too. "

"Do you hear, unbelieving dog?"

"Tooty-too--yes, I hear--tooty-tooty-tooty-too. "

"Then why don't you stop?"

"Because I intend to go on--too-tum-too--all night"

"But you're driving me to distraction. "

"Nonsense; go to bed and sleep--tooty-tum, tooty-tum, tooty-too. Youwill like the beautiful flute in time. "

"But I can't sleep with that infernal tooty-too in any ears, and I'vegot the toothache. "

"Have it out. You'll feel better. "

This cool irony on the part of Mr. Figgins was like oil poured upon thefierce temper of the irascible Bosja, and he shouted loudly--

"If I hear any more of that diabolical 'tootum-too, ' I swear by AllahI'll take your life, and give your body to the crows and vultures. "

"Ha, ha!" laughed the reckless Figgins. "Tooty-tum, tooty-tum, too-tum--"

But before he could finish his musical phrase, the maddened Bosja hadseized his scimitar, and rushed like a bull at the partition. 

The partition was thin, the Turk was burly and thick, and he plungedthrough head first into the orphan's apartment, to the no littlesurprise and dismay of the latter. 

It was quite a picture. 

Bosja waved his weapon over his head; Mark Antony Figgins hopped uponthe bed and wrapped himself tightly round in the clothes, clutching hisflute to his side. 

For a moment the pair stood glaring at each other. 

"Your flute, vile dog, or your life, " shouted the Turk. 

"I object to part with either, " cried the orphan. "Go and have yourtooth out, and be happy. "

Down came the scimitar with a swish in the direction of his head. 

But the grocer had quickly withdrawn it beneath the clothes. 

Not to be thwarted, however, in his vengeance, the burly Bosja swoopeddown upon the heap, and dragged them up in his grasp, the orphanincluded. 

"Now I have you, " he cried, as he seized the obnoxious flute. 

"Give me my instrument, infidel, " shrieked the orphan, as he threw offthe blanket, and clung to the flute with desperation. 

At the same moment, he recognised the green and yellow-striped turbanon the head of the Turk. 

It was Bosja into whose hands it had fallen, when Mr. Figgins wasescaping from the mob. 

"That is my turban, " he cried, as with one hand he dragged it from hisenemy's head, with dauntless vehemence, and bringing his flute downwith a smart crack on the Turk's bald pate. 

The Turk, who was much more of a bully than a hero, was quiteconfounded at the excited energy which the Frankish lodger displayed. Dropping his scimitar, he then had a struggle for the flute. 

Round the room they went, pulling and hauling. 

At length, lurching against the door, it burst open. 

The combatants now found themselves on the landing. 

Here the struggle continued, till, at length, giving a desperate tug, the flute came in half, and Bosja fell backwards, head over heels, downthe stairs, with the upper joint of the instrument in his hand. 

The landlady, who thought the house was falling, came hurrying to seewhat had happened, and found the Turk lying in a heap at the bottom ofthe stairs, with the breath almost knocked out of his body. 

It took some time to bring him to himself. 

It was just as he was recovering there was a loud knocking at thestreet door. 

On opening it, a body of Turkish soldiers appeared drawn up in front ofit. 

"What is the cause of this disturbance?" inquired the leader of thetroop. 

Bosja quickly gave his own version of what had happened. 

Of course, it was highly exaggerated. 

He, a true believer, had been assaulted, robbed of his turban, andthrown downstairs by a rascally dog of a Giaour, who lodged in a roomnext to him. 

This was quite sufficient to arouse the indignation of the officer, and, with three of his troop, that functionary ascended to seize thedelinquent. 

But, on reaching the room, it was discovered to be empty. 

"The Frankish hound laughs at our beards, " said the officer. "He hasescaped by the window. "

And such had been the intention of Mark Antony Figgins. 

But not being accustomed to such perilous descents, he had foundhimself baffled in his flight, and was now perched on a ledge, half waybetween the window and the ground, unable either to proceed or toreturn. 

He was soon espied by the soldiers, and a shout announced hisdetection. 

A ladder was quickly procured, and the luckless orphan very shortlyfound himself a prisoner. 

"What dirt have you been eating?" demanded the officer, sternly. 

"I haven't been eating dirt at all, " returned the indignant Figgins, "but I believe that fat Turk has swallowed half of my flute. "

Bosja came forward at this with the missing portion in his hand, andhanded it to the officer. 

The orphan made a snatch at it, but received only a box on the ear fromthe officer. 

The other half of his cherished instrument was wrested from him, and hemarched off to the lock-up until the case could be tried on the morrowbefore the bashaw. 

CHAPTER LXVI. 

HOW THE FLUTE ADVENTURE TERMINATED. 

The morrow had come. 

Hearing that a Frank was to be tried, the court was crowded. 

At the appointed hour Mark Antony Figgins, looking particularlydoleful, was conducted from his cell to the presence of theadministrator of the law. 

Osman, the ruling bashaw, although a Turk, was a regular Tartar to dealwith. 

He administered plenty of law, but very little justice; if the latterwas required, money was the bashaw's idol, and it must be handsomelypaid for. 

As soon as the parties were brought in, the judicial potentate eyedthem sternly for some time. 

Then he said--

"Which is the plaintiff?"

"I am, " exclaimed Bosja. 

"No; I am, " exclaimed Mr. Figgins. 

"What bosh is this?" cried the bashaw; "you can't both be plaintiffs. "

"Most high and mighty, he robbed me of my turban and knocked me downstairs, " affirmed Bosja. 

"No, your worship; he robbed me of my turban and stole half my flute, "protested the orphan. 

The official dignitary frowned and shut his eyes reflectively. 

He foresaw that he had a case of unusual intricacy before him, and hewas thinking how he should deal with it. 

After a moment he opened his eyes, rubbed his nose profoundly, andsneezed. 

All the officials imitated their superior by rubbing their noses andsneezing in concert. 

The uproar was tremendous. 

Order being at length restored, the bashaw fixed his eyes upon Bosja, and said to him--

"Let me hear what you have to say. "

"It is this. Your slave last night was troubled with the toothache, andretired to his couch. The pain kept me awake, and just as I was goingto sleep--"

"Stop!" cried the bashaw; "you say that the pain kept you awake, andthen you say you were going to sleep. You couldn't be awake and asleepat the same time. "

A hum of applause ran round the court at this sagacious remark. 

"He speaks the words of wisdom, " murmured some. 

"What a lawyer he is, " whispered others. 

"I had been awake for some hours, " explained Bosja, "when the painlulled a little, and I began to doze. "

"Well, you began to doze, and then?"

"Then I was disturbed by a dreadful squeaking noise in the next room. "

"A rat?"

"No, your highness; a flute. "

"That was my flute, your worship, " cried the indignant orphan; "whosedulcet tone he calls a dreadful sque----"

"Silence, dog, " shouted the bashaw. 

"Silence, " shouted everyone else. 

"Continue, " said the judge to Bosja. 

"I endured the dreadful sound as long as I could, until the anguish ofmy tooth became so great I could bear it no longer, and I sent a civilmessenger to the Frank yonder to cease. "

"And he complied with your request?"

"Not he, your mightiness. He played all the louder, and the dreadfulnoise he made nearly killed me. "

"I was in my own room, your worship, " interposed Mr. Figgins, "and hada right to play as loud as I liked. "

The bashaw here referred to his vizier. 

"What says the law?" he asked, in a low tone. "Does it permit a man todo what he likes in his own room?"

The vizier scratched his nose and reflected. 

All the officials scratched their noses and reflected. 

After a moment the vizier replied--

"It all depends, most wise and illustrious. If the owner of the room bea true believer, he may turn it upside down if he please, not else. "

"Good; and this flute-player is an infidel--a dog. "

"I beg your pardon, sir, I'm a retired grocer, " put in Figgins, whooverheard the remark. 

"Silence, " growled the bashaw; "go on, plaintiff. "

"Well, your highness, " continued Bosja, "I continued to get worse andworse under this dreadful 'too-tooting', until at last, driven todesperation, I sprang from my bed, and hammered at the wall, imploringhim to be quiet. "

"And he still refused?"

"He did, your mightiness. "

"And you?"

"I was imploring Allah to soften his unmerciful heart, when suddenly heburst through the partition, which was thin----"

"No, no, no, your worship, " interrupted Mr. Figgins, vehemently, "itwas he who burst through, not me. "

"Silence, " cried the bashaw; "dare not to interrupt the words oftruth. "

"But they're not words of truth, your worship; they'reabominable--false. "

"Silence, dog, " shouted the potentate, crimson with anger. 

"Silence, dog, " echoed the rest of the judicial body. 

"Continue, plaintiff. "

"Well, your highness, " went on Bosja, "he then seized me violently, tore my turban from my head, and endeavoured to thrust his diabolical, 'too-tooing' instrument down my throat. "

"To which you objected?"

"Strongly, your highness. I seized the flute in self-defence, and itcame in half in my hand, and he then dragged me from the room, and withgigantic strength, hurled me backwards down the stairs. "

"Allah Kerin, it was a mercy your back was not broken, " exclaimed thebashaw. 

"I feel sore all over, your highness, " said Bosja, ruefully, "and fearI am seriously injured. "

"And the culprit was endeavouring to escape, was he not?" asked thejudge. 

"He was, your mightiness, when my soldiers discovered him clinging tothe wall, " replied the officer of the soldiers. 

"Wallah thaih, it is well said. "

The bashaw conferred again with his vizier for a moment, and then, turning towards the luckless Figgins, who found himself changed fromthe plaintiff into the defendant, he said to him sternly--

"And now, unbelieving dog, what have you to say?"

"Only this, " the orphan replied, without hesitation; "that that witnesshas uttered a tissue of abominable lies. "

"I have spoken naught but the truth, " exclaimed the unblushing Bosja, solemnly. "Bashem ustun, upon my head be it. "

"Well, let us hear what account you have to give, " said the bashaw tothe defendant. 

"My account is very simple, " said Figgins. "I was playing my flute, when that Turk insisted on my stopping. I considered I had a right todo as I liked in my own apartment and refused. "

"You had no right to do as you liked. "

"What, not in my own chamber that I had paid for?"

"Certainly not. "

Mr. Figgins shook his clenched fist fiercely in the air at thisextraordinary declaration. 

"There's neither law nor justice here, " he cried, indignantly. "InEngland----"

"You're not in England, dog, " shouted the bashaw, "you're in Turkey. "

The orphan felt painfully at that moment that he was. 

"I don't care how soon I'm out of such a miserable den of thieves androgues, " he said. 

"What does the fellow say?" demanded the bashaw, who did not quiteunderstand all the orphan said. 

"He says his face will be whitened by the rays of your highness'swisdom, the like to which he has never before seen, " the vizierinterpreted. 

"Umph!" growled his superior. 

Then addressing himself once more to the defendant, he said--

"Go on. "

"Well, in the midst of my practice that fat Turk burst through thepartition of my room, scimitar in hand. The first thing I saw on hishead was my turban, which I lost a week ago. I seized my ownproperty----"

"Inshallah!" shouted the bashaw, "this fellow is telling the same storyas the other. He is laughing at our beards and making us eat dirt. I'llhear no more. "

"But, your worship----"

"I'll hear no more!" shouted the judge. "I find him guilty on allpoints. "

"But my flute----"

"Your flute is forfeited. "

The orphan uttered a cry of despair. 

"My flute that cost me twenty-five pounds only a week since, " he waileddolefully. 

The bashaw pricked up his ears at these words. 

A man who could afford to give twenty-five pounds for a flute must bepossessed of property. 

The scales of justice quivered whilst he whispered to his vizier--

"This Frank is rich, is he not?"

"Heaven forbid that I should venture to dispute your highness'sopinion. Most of his countrymen are so, " the subordinate replied. 

"Let us see. "

Looking towards the agitated grocer, the bashaw said, in a modifiedtone--

"The law pronounces you guilty. Still, in our mercy and clemency, weincline to show you favour. Your flute, for which it seems you paidtwenty-five pounds, is forfeited; but, for another twenty-five you mayredeem it. "

The orphan was dreadfully indignant. 

"What!" he cried, "pay twice over for what's my own property? I won'tpay another farthing, you pot-bellied old humbug. "

"What does he say?" asked the bashaw of his vizier; "does he consent?"

The interpreter turned slightly green with dismay as he stammered inreply--

"He expresses himself utterly overpowered by the--the--splendour ofyour highness's magnificent condescension; but--a--a--at the same timehe is not at the present moment able to a--avail himself of it. "

"You mean to say he has no sufficient funds--is that it?"

"Yes, your highness. "

The disappointed bashaw uttered an angry grunt, and looking savagely atthe prisoner, said to him--

"Since you can't pay, you must----"

"I can pay, " shouted the orphan, in a furiously indignant tone; "but Iwon't. "

The bashaw grinned at him like a fiend, and demanding the flute to behanded to him, held it up before the eyes of the whole court. 

"Be witness all, " he exclaimed, "that yonder obstinate Frank despisesour clemency, and refuses to redeem this flute, his property. "

"That flute is not his property, it is mine, " cried a voice from thecrowd. 

At the same moment a portly Turk, in a red fez cap, pressed forward. 

He was recognised at once as Kallum Beg, a Turk of distinction, but whoat times had to be treated as a madman. 

"That flute is mine, O noble bashaw!" he repeated. 

The judge winked and blinked, and seemed greatly perplexed at thisunexpected declaration. 

"Yours?" he echoed, at length. 

"Yes, your highness. I was robbed of it a week since. "

"And that lying son of Shitan told us he bought it for twenty-fivepounds. "

"So I did, " protested the orphan. 

"Silence!" roared the bashaw, "you have made us eat nothing but dirt. You know you stole it. "

Then turning to the rightful owner of the instrument, he said to him--

"Kallum Beg, the flute is yours. Still as you contradicted me in theopen court, declaring it to be your property, when I had declared it tobe the property of another, you are fined fifty sequins. "

The Turk grunted, and shrugged his shoulders, for each of whichoffences he was instantly fined an additional fifty sequins, making ahundred and fifty. There being no appeal, the fine was paid and KallumBeg received his flute. 

"And now, " continued the bashaw, "let that unbelieving dog receivetwenty strokes of the bastinado, on the soles of his feet. "

In an instant the orphan was jerked off his legs, and placed flat onthe ground. 

The executioner stepped forward, and having removed his slippers, flourished his cane. 

"Begin, " cried the judge. 

Swish fell the bamboo upon the orphan's naked feet. 

The pain was so exquisite that the victim shrieked "Murder!" at the topof his voice. 

The bashaw grinned from ear to ear. 

"Perhaps the prisoner would rather pay than suffer, " he said, after amoment. 

"Yes, yes, I would, " cried Mr. Figgins, desperately; "a great dealrather. How much?"

"Ten sequins a stroke. A hundred and ninety sequins in all. "

"I'll pay the sum. Oh, why did I ever leave delightful London?" saidthe grocer. 

"Raise him!" said the bashaw. 

The victim was lifted up, and a messenger dispatched with a note toyoung Jack Harkaway to forward the orphan's cash-box. 

In a short time the man returned, and the box was at once handed overto the bashaw, who having received the key, helped himself at once todouble the sum he had demanded. 

"Now I suppose I'm at liberty, " said Mr. Figgins, glancing, wistfullyat his cash box. 

"Not just yet, " returned the grasping judge, who having the money inhis possession, was resolved to appropriate as much as possible. 

"I'm inclined to think that you have been unjustly accused. I thereforepermit you as a particular favour to avenge yourself upon Bosja. Youmust fight with him, kill him if you can, and I shall not hold youresponsible. "

The orphan looked unutterable things at this permission, whilst Bosja, who was a great coward at heart, turned all manner of colours. 

"Your mightiness----" he began. 

But the bashaw cut him short. 

"You are fined fifty sequins for speaking when you are not spoken to, "he cried; "treasurer, collect the money. "

But Bosja had not a single coin left. 

"Then he must go to prison, " said the judge, sternly; "but not tillafter he has fought with the man he has falsely accused. "

"I've no wish to fight. I want to go home, " exclaimed Mr. Figgins. 

"You're fined another fifty sequins, " remarked the bashaw, blandly;"for not wishing to fight when I say you are to fight. "

Whilst the judge dipped once more into the cash-box, the executionerwent for weapons, and shortly reappeared with a couple of enormousscimitars, which he placed in the hands of the combatants. 

A dead silence fell upon the eager crowd, who longed for the fight tocommence. 

"Are you ready?" demanded the bashaw. 

"N-n-n-no, I'm not, " faltered the orphan, whose ferocity had entirelydisappeared with the loss of his flute; "I'm not a fighting man, and Idon't like fighting with swords--I might get hurt. I would ratherforgive Mr. Bosja than kill him. "

His opponent evinced his satisfaction at this humane proposal by aghastly smile. 

But his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth with terror, and he saidnothing. 

But the bashaw was not to be thwarted in this manner. 

"It is my will that you fight, " he said, in a determined tone; "andfight you must, or each find a substitute. "

The combatants strained their eyes eagerly amongst the crowd. 

But no one volunteered to take their places. 

Suddenly Mr. Figgins caught sight of a black figure that waspantomiming to him very eagerly in the distance. 

A flash of joy rushed across his troubled spirit. 

It was Tinker. 

He could judge by his actions he was ready to take his place, andtherefore he exclaimed aloud--

"I've found a substitute. "

"Where?" demanded the bashaw, looking intensely disappointed. 

"Here de dustibute, " shouted Tinker, in reply; "make way, youwhitey-brown Turkies, an' let de rale colour come forrards. "

As he spoke, he elbowed his way through the crowd till he reached thespace in front of the seat of justice. 

Here he shook hands with Mr. Figgins, and nodded as familiarly to thebashaw as though he had been a particular friend of his. 

"What son of Jehanum is that?" growled the bashaw, scowling fiercely atTinker. 

"He is my substitute, " exclaimed the grocer. 

"Is he? And do you know what you must pay to be allowed to make use ofhim?" asked the bashaw. 

"No, you old thief, I don't, " said Figgins, softly; then aloud--"howmuch?"

"Two hundred sequins, " said the judge. 

"Oh, certainly, " assented the orphan; "no doubt you intend to empty mybox before you let me go. "

This restored the complacency of the bashaw, who, having by this lastdemand used up all the grocer's cash, finished by taking possession ofhis cash-box to carry it away in. 

Having locked it safely up, he cried--

"I wish to be amused. Let the fight commence at once. "

Tinker received a scimitar from the hands of Mr. Figgins, andflourished it gaily round his head. 

Bosja, who could not afford to pay for a substitute, made a greateffort to pull himself together for the strife, but he looked verywhite, and his teeth chattered audibly. 

"Now, slaves, begin, " exclaimed the judge. 

Tinker gave a semi-savage yell, just to encourage his opponent, andthen, with a most ferocious grin on his dark face, he sprang forward. 

Bosja, scared out of his wits, struck wildly at random. 

His scimitar came in contact with nothing but air, whilst Tinker gavehim a slight prod with his sabre's point in the region of his baggybreeches. 

Bosja felt it, and believing himself seriously wounded, uttered adoleful howl. 

The crowd applauded. 

Tinker hopped round him as nimbly as a tomtit or a jackdaw, andpresently gave him another little taste of his steel. 

 [Illustration: "TINKER HOPPED ROUND HIM NIMBLY, AND GAVE HIM ANOTHER TASTE OF THE STEEL. "--TINKER. VOL. II. ]

Bosja, fully impressed with the idea that he was bleeding to death, began to grow desperate. 

Grasping his scimitar more firmly, he rushed in at his sable antagonist, but Tinker, by a skilful manoeuvre, locked his hilt in that of hisfoe's weapon, and wrested it from his hand, following up his advantagewith a smart tap on Bosja's skull with the flat of his blade. 

This was a settler for the Turk, who, under the pleasing convictionthat his brains were knocked out, uttered a piteous groan, and fellfainting on the ground. 

The spectators did not appear to relish the defeat of their countryman, and loud murmurs of discontent burst forth, in the midst of which thebashaw rose. 

"Stop the fight, and arrest the murderer, " he cried. 

Several of the soldiers and a few of the spectators advanced withalacrity to obey the order, but Tinker suddenly delivered one of hisstartling war whoops and flourished a glittering scimitar in each ofhis hands. 

Everyone stopped. 

It seemed prudent to do so, for the negro grinned and gnashed his teethlike a dark demoniac, as he sharpened his weapons one upon the other, preparatory to some deadly work of destruction. 

Having performed this operation, he cried--

"Now de amputashun goin' to begin!" and uttering another terrible yell, dashed in amongst the guards. 

The soldiers, astonished and appalled, dropped their weapons and fledfrom the court, calling upon the Prophet to save them from the wildfiend. 

Having got rid of the soldiers, Tinker tripped up Kallum Beg, andwresting his flute from his hand, helped that worthy individual tocreep out on his hands and knees by the wholesome stimulant of thepoints of his two scimitars. 

Next he sprang amongst the spectators, shrieking and flourishing hisweapons. 

What with the clash of the steel and the hideous outcry he made, theMoslem crowd were beside themselves with terror. 

Struggling, shouting, and declaring that the devil himself was letloose, among them, they fought, and scratched, and pulled off turbans, and tumbled over each other till they reached the door. 

The court was cleared. 

All but the bashaw and his principal ministers, who still congregatedround the judgment seat, blue with terror. 

"Seize him! seize the imp of Jehanum!"

"Allah preserve me!" cried the potentate, who was holding ontenaciously to the vizier. 

But the vizier made no attempt to obey his superior. 

He was clinging to another vizier, imploring Allah to preserve him. 

Up sprang Tinker, yelling and waving his sword. 

"'Ssassinashun! spifl'cashun! string'lashun to de 'ole lot ob yah!" heshouted. 

The officials did not wait to be operated upon. 

"Look after the cash-box, " gasped the bashaw, as he waddled down thesteps. 

The rest followed, forgetting everything but their own personal safety. 

The cash box was left behind. 

Tinker pounced upon it. 

"'Ooray!" he shouted, triumphantly; "him got de flute and de cash-boxas well. Cock-a-doodle-doo!"

Quick as lightning he rushed to the door. 

At the entrance he encountered the bashaw, who had discovered his loss. 

"Son of perdition, give me my property, " he cried. 

Tinker gave it him immediately--on his head. 

The effect was stunning. 

Down went the "Cream of Justice" and the "Flower of wisdom" senselessto the ground. 

Tinker sprang over him, and hurried away with the swiftness of a deer. 

The orphan had long since taken his flight. 

But, to his great joy, he received from the brave negro not only hiscoin, but what he prized more--his flute. 

CHAPTER LXVII. 

MR. MOLE'S LETTER--A TRIP ASHORE--THE TURKISH BAZAAR--A MUSSULMANSLIPPER MERCHANT--WONDER ON WONDERS--BY THE PIPER THAT PLAYED BEFOREMOSES, AN IRISH TURK. 

It is now high time to give Mr. Mole's letter which threw young JackHarkaway and his friend Harry Girdwood into such a state of excitement. 

Here it is verbatim. 

 "MY DEAR BOY JACK, --The prolonged silence you have kept has rendered your absence a matter of serious moment to us all here, and to me more than all; I can bear it no longer. I intend to come in search of you and see for myself what keeps your tongue tied. Ah, I mean to rout you out and give a sharp eye to your shortcomings. Expect me then soon, for I hope to run athwart you, yardarm and yardarm, as an old salt we once knew used to say. 

 "Believe me, my dear Jack, "Ever sincerely yours, "ISAAC MOLE. 

 "P. S. --I am told that the native liquors where you are staying are more cheering than inebriating in their effects. This will suit me capitally; but as you and your companions may find sherbet rather thin diet, I shall bring with me a bottle or two of something with a more decided flavour. "

"I tell you what, " said Jack to his comrade Harry, "we shall have tolook out for poor old Mole. We must send word back by special courier, that he may know what direction we have taken. "

Messages were sent by sure hands to the different stations which theyhad made upon their journey, to guide Mr. Mole to the place Jack andHarry were stopping at. 

"Meanwhile my only recommendation is, young gentlemen, that you don'tget yourselves embroiled in any way with the native folks here anymore. The Mussulmen are fierce and fanatical, and the least provocationmay make them burst out into wildness. "

The speaker was Captain Deering, and the occasion of it was the eve ofanother projected trip by Jack Harkaway and Harry Girdwood. 

"We shall be careful, captain, " said the latter. 

"Of course, " said Deering, with a merry twinkling in his eye; "youalways are. "

"Always. "

"There's not much to fear, captain, " said Jack, lightly. 

"Oh, yes, there is, " responded Deering, quickly, "very much. "

"How?"

"Why, very little will provoke a Mussulman when he has to deal with aChristian. "

"But no one would be indelicate enough to show a want of respect totheir religious scruples, " answered Harry. 

"I don't see how we can interfere with them at all, " said Jack. "Whyshould the question of religion be raised?"

"Not by you, " returned Captain Deering, "but by them, for they will atany time unite to fall upon an unlucky Christian if opposed to aMussulman in a dispute, should the Turk choose to invoke their aidagainst the unbelievers, as they stigmatise the Christians. "

"Well, captain, " said Jack, who jibbed at being lectured, "you need notfear for us; we shall be careful enough. "

"No doubt, Master Jack, " returned the captain, drily. "You're a mildspring chicken, you are; it is only that wild, rampagious companion ofyours that I want you to look after. "

Saying which, he left the two boys to their own devices. 

"That's a nasty jar, " said Harry, with a chuckle. 

Tinker and Bogey were their only companions. 

Jack and Harry had taken the orphan once more under their protectionsince his narrow escape from the trial he had passed through with thebashaw, and hearing from the orphan the description of the Turk he hadbought his dress from, they resolved to pay him a visit. 

In the bazaar there were Turks, Greeks, Armenians, Arabs, and a motleycollection of coloured people. 

The Turkish dealers sat at their stalls, pushing trade in a taciturnmanner, speaking little, it is true, but when they did make a remark, it was to tell lies with earnest gravity about their wares. 

"If you could only speak Turkish as glibly as you did to Mr. Figgins, "said Harry Girdwood, "you should go and cheapen a fez for me, Jack. "

"I could manage that, Harry, " replied Jack. 

"No, no, " said Harry; "remember what the poor orphan suffered throughbuying his Turkish dress. "

"Bother that, " returned Jack. "Let's go and have a lark with that chapselling the slippers. "

"Be careful. "

There were several slipper vendors present. 

Jack picked up a pair of slippers and inquired the price. 

The dealer gave him an odd look. 

Jack looked round to Harry Girdwood for assistance. 

"I can't help you, " returned Harry. "Ask him again. "

"What's the figure, old Turkey rhubarb?" asked Jack, bowing as ifpaying the merchant a compliment. 

The Turk replied with the same gravity. 

"He don't appear to understand, " said Harry Girdwood. "Try him in St. Giles's Greek?"

"What's the damage for the brace of trotter boxes, old Flybynight?"demanded young Harkaway, looking as solemn as a judge. 

The Turkish merchant repeated the price in his native tongue, and theymade no progress in their deal. 

While they were thus engaged, who should come into the bazaar but NatCringle, and with him their old friend the Irish diver?

"I'll put it to him. Mayhap he'll understand me. What an illigant ouldthafe it is, " said the diver, when he had waited some time for a reply. 

"Why don't ye answer, ye dirrty ould spalpeen?" he demanded, after apause. "Be gorra, av ye don't sphake, I'll give ye one wid my twig. "

Saying which, he flourished his shillelagh before the slippermerchant's face, and then gave him a smart tap on his head. 

The grave old Turk then found his tongue, and the reply was such astartler, that the four travellers were knocked off their moralequilibrium. 

"Tare and 'ounds, ye blackyard omadhauns! Ye thavin' Saxin vaggybones!ave ye'd only thread on the tail av me coat, so as to give me agintlemanly excuse for blackin' yer squintin' eyes, I'd knock yez intonext Monday week, the blessed lot av yez!"

The four visitors stared at each other in wonder. 

They had not a word to say for themselves. 

No wonder that it took their breath away. 

The Irish diver was the first to find his tongue. 

"By the blessed piper that played before Moses, here's an Irish Turk!"

"Stop that!" ejaculated the slipper merchant; "av ye call me names, I'll have a go at yez av ye was as big as a house. "

"Ye're Paddy from Cork, " retorted the diver. 

"Niver, " protested the merchant, stoutly. 

"Get along wid yez, " retorted the diver, "ye Mahommedan Mormonite; nowI'll take short odds to any amount up to a farden that that brogue camefrom Galway. Tell the truth, and shame the ould gintleman as shall benameless. "

The Turk had an inward struggle, and then he confessed. He was anIrishman, settled for some years in Turkey. 

"But devil a word must ye say. Ye'll spoil me shop entirely, " he said, "av the folks hereabout takes me for a Christian gintleman, and I shallbe kilt intirely. "

CHAPTER LXVIII. 

PADDY MAHMOUD PLAYS THE PASHA--LOCAL STATISTICS--VISIT TO THEKONAKI--HOSPITALITY VERSUS AL KORAN. 

The Irish Turk contrived, after some talk, that our friends shouldprocure an entry into the palace of the pasha. 

"Back stairs infloonce, me boys, " said the Irish Turk, with a wink, "isan illigant institooshn, and is jist as privlint here, sorrs, as it isin St. James's or at the castle. "

"How do you work it?"

"I have my own particular pals, which shall be nameless, at the pasha'spalace. "

"Officers?"

The Irish Turk looked very demure and replied--

"Not exactly officers; officeresses, ye understand. "

"You're a terrible Turk, Paddy, " laughed young Jack. 

"When shall we be able to get over the palace?" demanded HarryGirdwood. 

"Come to me in the course of to-morrow afternoon, " said the Irish Turk. 

"We will. "

 * * * *

This arranged, they strolled through the bazaar, trading and barteringwith the dealers, and making an odd collection of purchases, to takehome as curiosities. 

But of all the curiosities, the most remarkable was perhaps a pair ofreal Egyptian mummies, which they discovered in the possession of ashrewd and greedy old Arab. 

"We shall have quite an extensive museum, " said Jack. 

"Blessed if I care to see a brace o' stiff uns on board, " growled NatCringle. 

"We shall not for the present take them on board, " said Jack; "we shallfirst take them to our rooms. We shall find some use for the mummies, eh, Harry?"

"I believe you, my boy, " said Harry. "We'll name the mummies Mole andthe orphan. Ha, ha!"

Well, that same afternoon, as agreed upon, young Jack and HarryGirdwood presented themselves at the residence of the Irish Turk, PaddyMahmoud Ben Flannigan, as the boys had christened him. 

They had got themselves up _à la Turc_. 

Tinker and his attendant Bogey were also suitably attired. 

They found the Irishman seated upon the floor with his legs under him. 

He arose as the guests entered, and advanced to greet them politely. 

"Make yourselves at home, gentlemen, " he said, "and say what'll ye takebefore we get along. "

Jack tipped the wink to his companion. 

"I'd like a little nip of something to cure the belly-ache, " heanswered slily. 

"Ye can have that same, " responded their host. 

He went to a cupboard, and produced a stumpy, but capacious bottle, andthree glasses. 

"Whatever is that?" said Harry, in affected surprise. 

"A drop of the crater, " responded Paddy Mahmoud, pouring it out. 

"Here's your health, " said Harry Girdwood. 

The two lads nodded at their host, and sipped. 

The Irish Turk tossed off his whisky at a gulp. 

"When shall you be ready to go up to the palace?" asked Jack. 

"All in good time, " returned the host. "In the first place, it is notcalled the palace. "

"What then?"

"The Konaki. "

"Konaki!"

"That's it. Now I'll show you exactly how to conduct yourselves whenyou are presented at court, " he said. 

Three servants entered, carrying three pipes, each of the same size, and each having jewelled amber mouth-pieces. 

The servants drew themselves up like automatons, each placing his righthand on his heart. 

The next moment they were inhaling their first draught of somewonderful tobacco, the host keeping up the traditional Turkish customof puffing half a minute or so before the guests. 

When they had puffed away in silence for some little time, the servantsreturned. 

One of them carried a crimson napkin, richly embroidered with gold, thrown over his left shoulder. 

And others carried a coffee tray, upon which were cups of elegantfilagree work. 

Each of the guests were presented with a cup of coffee--not very niceaccording to our notions, being thick, unstrained and unsweetened. 

Yet the Turks are considered the only people who really understand theart of making coffee. 

This disposed of, the servants retired. 

"Now, " says the host, "that's just what ye'll have to do when you go upto the Konaki, to be, so to speak, presented at court. When you govisiting his excellency the pasha on any business, no matter howpressing it may be, you mustn't speak of it until the pipes and thecoffee have been got through. You have only to observe this littlecustomary bit of etiquette, and all will go on merrily as a marriagebell. "

"Have you ever seen the pasha yourself?" asked Jack. 

"Often. "

"What's he like?"

"Every inch a gentleman. "

This rather surprised them. 

"Now let's come off, and you shall see over the Konaki. "

CHAPTER LXIX. 

THE JOYS OF THE SERAGLIO--A GROUP OF PEEPING THOMASES--THE CIRCASSIANSLAVES--TINKER AND BOGEY ARE IN FOR IT--THE ALARM--ATTEMPTEDRESCUE--AWAY WITH THEM--THE IRISHMAN TELLS A FEW WHITE ONES TO APURPOSE. 

The slipper merchant had selected a favourable moment for their visitto the Konaki. 

The pasha--or to speak more correctly, the pasha's deputy, for it wasthe deputy that had imposed upon the poor orphan--was absent from thehouse temporarily, and so they were able to walk about whither theylisted, thanks to the backstairs influence of which their friend andguide had boasted. 

The head of the pasha's household was the person to whom they owed thisunusual privilege. 

There was not a great deal to see in the Konaki now that they werethere, and their visit would probably have been cut very short had theynot been attracted by sounds of distant music just as they were uponthe point of leaving. 

"What's that?" said Jack. 

"That's from the seraglio, " returned their conductor; "some Circassiangirls that have just been sent as a present to the pasha are veryclever dancers, it is said. "

Jack pricked up his ears at this. 

"Come on, " he said, moving forward briskly. 

"To this seraglio?"

"Aye. "

"Why, you rash boy, " said the Irish Turk, with a frightened look, "doyou know what you are talking about?"

"Well, yes, I think so, " said Jack; "dancing Circassian girls and theseraglio was the topic of the conversation, unless I am wandering in mymind. "

"Faith, ye must be mad, " said the Irishman, gravely; "why, they'd thinkhanging too good for any man that even looked at the harem. "

"So should I, " returned Jack; "I've no wish to be hanged; it's too goodfor me. Come on. "

"Don't be foolish; it's death, if we're caught. "

"All right, " said Jack, cheerfully; "it's sure then that we mustn't becaught, but I don't mean to miss the chance all the same. "

The Irishman resisted stoutly. 

But Jack was more obstinate than he was, and so the Irishman was forcedto yield a point. 

"I know where there's a gallery that overlooks the harem, and you cansee all the fun of the fair without being observed. "

"You seem to know the place very well, " said Jack. 

"Very. "

"But of course you have never been to this identical gallery before?"said Jack, innocently. 

"Never--never. "

His eagerness to impress this upon them told its own tale. 

"I should think that's true, Jack, " said Harry, demurely. 

"Oh, yes, quite, " said Jack, winking at Harry. 

The Irishman led the way along a paved passage, at the end of which wasan arched entrance to an apartment, closed off only by a heavy curtain. 

"You see that curtain?" whispered their guide. 

"Yes. "

"That's the harem. "

"Come on, then, " said Jack, eagerly. 

"Stop, stop!" exclaimed the Irishman. "The other side of the curtainare two----"

Before he could complete the sentence, the curtain was dragged aside, and two armed negroes appeared. 

Their appearance was sudden and startling. 

Each carried a drawn sword, a scimitar of formidable size. 

They looked about as ugly customers as you would wish to see. 

"Two eunuchs, " whispered the Irishman, "they are guarding the seraglio. Come away. "

"Ugly enough for heathen gods, " whispered Harry Girdwood. 

The two eunuchs stood like statues on guard. 

The slipper merchant said something to them in Turkish which appearedto satisfy them. 

"Massa Jack, " whispered Tinker, who was one of the party, tugging athis young master's sleeve, "Massa Jack. "

"What now?"

"Dat one ob de beasts what chuck de pusson in de water alive in desack, sar. "

"What!" ejaculated Harry Girdwood. 

"Fack, Massa Harry, " said Tinker, stoutly. "Guess I know dat ugly brackniggar, sar, a tousan' mile off--beast!"

"Come on. Don't appear to notice them, " said the Irishman. "It'sawkward work now. If they had half a suspicion, they would drop on usright and left, and not leave a limb on either one of our blessedbodies. "

He led the way until they came to a gallery that overlooked theseraglio. 

Their leader now warned them to keep silent. 

In the chamber below were about a dozen Turkish ladies, all unveiled. 

They were all gorgeously attired, and lolling about in indolentattitudes, as if life were an indescribable bore to them. 

Upon a square fringed carpet in the middle of the room a Circassiangirl of rare beauty and perfect symmetry was gliding through a gracefuldance, to a low, melodious measure, which another girl of her owncountry was chanting. 

The dance resembled nothing that Jack and Harry had seen before. 

As she turned round, the shawl she waved was made to describe a seriesof circles. 

And then, as she came to a sudden stop, it fell around her in gracefulfolds and she looked like a very beautiful sculptured figure. 

But before you could fairly admire her graceful form and beauteousface, she had bounded off again in the mazy dance, to the intensegratification of the idle lookers-on. 

"What do you think of that?" whispered the Irishman. 

"Lovely, " returned Jack, enthusiastically. 

"Beautiful, " added Harry Girdwood. "What would little Emily say, Jack, if she knew you were looking with loving eyes at that little beauty?"

The mention of little Emily's name made Jack silent for a minute ortwo. 

Presently he asked--

"Are these professional performers?"

"The dancer and the singer are two out of three Circassian slaves thathave been sent to the pasha as a present during his journey. He will bepleased with the new acquisition when he returns, although one has metan untimely end. "

"Slaves! Is it possible?" said young Jack. 

"Rather, my boy. "

"What will they do with these slaves?"

"Various things. Perhaps keep them to amuse the ladies of the harem, asyou see now; perhaps make them beasts of burden; perhaps make morewives of them. His excellency is not particular to a wife or two. "

"He's a beast!" said young Jack; "and I should like to kick him. "

"Gently, gently; it's the system of the country, dear boys, nothingmore. "

"But, " said Jack, "when you speak of the Circassian girl being sent asa present to the pasha, do you mean the real pasha or the deputy? Forthis Turk is the one that cheated the poor orphan out of his money. "

"This is only the deputy; I mean the pasha himself, " returned the IrishTurk. "The deputy would like to appropriate the slaves himself. "

"Do you think so?"

"I know it, and he does not mind what you would call murder now andthen. "

"Perhaps that would account for what we saw in the bay, for thehorrible business with the sack. "

"More than likely, " said the Irish Turk, gravely. "But a slave, more orless, even if it's a lovely girl, doesn't count for much in theseparts. "

The boys gave a shudder. 

They were not used to hearing murder discussed in such a cold-bloodedfashion. 

"Tinker, " said Jack, by way of changing the topic suddenly, "do youthink that you or Bogey could dance like that girl?"

"Go an' dance like dat, " he said contemptuously. "Me an' dat niggerdance a lot better, sar. Bogey!"

"Wall!"

"Over wid you. "

And then, to the surprise and dismay of all the rest, the two darkeysvaulted over the balustrade and dropped into the room beneath. 

Had a bombshell fallen into the midst of the ladies of the harem, theycould not have been more surprised. 

There was a half-stifled shriek from one, and they all flew into acorner, where they stood huddled up together for protection. 

But Tinker and his man were not at all put out by these strangedemonstrations upon the part of the ladies. 

"Bogey. "

"Yes, Massa Tinker. "

"We'll jest take the floor togeder and show dem female gals what depoetry of motion is like. "

"Yah, yah!" grinned Bogey; "go it, my hunkey boy. "

And they did go it. 

There was not much of the poetry of motion about it, their dance beingof the breakdown genus. 

And to tell the truth, the ladies appeared more frightened than pleasedwith the darkeys' extraordinary evolutions. 

The double shuffle excited wonderment. 

When Bogey and Tinker brought down their respective hoofs with a bang, great alarm was manifested. 

By degrees, however, they appeared to grow more accustomed to theeccentric evolutions of the young negroes, and presently one of themlaughed aloud at the quaint capers the boys were cutting. 

This set them all laughing, and the mirth of the ladies was at itsheight, when certain alarming sounds were heard without. 

"By the holy fly, " ejaculated the Irishman. "there's a row in thehouse, and our frisky black boys'll lose their lives if they don'twatch it. "

"What's the matter?" demanded young Jack. 

"The deputy-pasha is back, " whispered the Irishman, in evident anxiety. "He has discovered the presence of strangers in the house. He's comingalong here with his guards, and there'll be the very devil to pay. "

"What, about Tinker and Bogey?"

"They're dead as door-nails. There is an unwritten law which sentencesany man to death who violates the sanctity of a Turkish harem. "

"Why don't they run out?" inquired Harry, anxiously. 

"What for? To be cutdown by the armed eunuchs. No; better take theirchance where they are. "

"I'm not going to leave them to die, " said Jack; "I'll have a shy, forit, if----"

"Hold your tongue, " interrupted the Irishman, anxiously; "but look, what the dooce are the girls up to with your black boys?"

Tinker and Bogey laboured under a very great disadvantage. 

They could neither understand nor make themselves understood by thefair creatures by whom they were surrounded. 

However, they managed to glean that they were in danger, and that atemporary haven of safety was to be found in an inner room beyond thecurtain facing the chief entrance, which was guarded by the twoeunuchs. 

They were bustled into that apartment by the ladies of the harem to achorus of excited whisperings. 

"Whatever are they going to do?" whispered Jack. 

"Silence, not a word. Look there!" said the Irish Turk. 

The heavy drapery before the chief entrance was drawn aside, and inmarched the fierce-looking Turk, that had tried to rob the orphan andhis cash-box, closely followed by the two eunuchs, who stood sentry atthe doorway. 

"Now, there'll be the devil to pay, " whispered the Irishman. 

Osmond, the ruling bashaw for the time, had heard that strangers werewithin the palace, and he hurried there with all speed. 

When first he was apprised of this, his greed excited him, for some ofthe chief sweets of his office were the presents. 

The deputy-pasha was ready to accept as many as he could send. 

"Strangers are present, " he exclaimed, addressing one of the favouriteladies; "now, by the beard of the Prophet, the intruders shall suffer!"

"What intruders?" said the lady. 

The deputy-governor made towards the curtain. 

But before he could enter, the lady with whom he had been talkingplaced herself in his way. 

"Stand aside----"

"Restrain your temper here, " returned the lady; "his excellency wouldnot be pleased to hear of this. "

These words appeared to cool the ferocity of the deputy-governor alittle. 

"Let the strangers come forth then, " he growled. 

"It shall be done. "

She passed to the further chamber. 

A few moments later the curtain was dragged aside, and the two fairCircassians came forth, each leading a veiled girl by the hand. 

Strapping girls they were too; but so closely veiled that it wasimpossible to see what their features were like. 

"Were these the strangers?"

"Yes. "

The deputy-governor glared at the new-comers, and then dismissed theCircassian girls. 

They refused to go at first, upon which he grew rabid with anger. 

"Your sister Selika opposed my wishes once, " he said, with cruelsignificance; "she will never oppose me more. Begone!"

They tremblingly obeyed the tyrant. 

This done, he sent the two armed eunuchs off with a wave of the hand. 

 * * * *

"What's up now, I wonder?" whispered Jack. 

"Wait. "

The Irishman had an odd suspicion. 

And his suspicion was very soon realised. 

 * * * *

"Remove your veil, " said Osmond, the deputy-pasha, peremptorily. 

But he might as well have addressed a stone wall. 

The tyrant waited a moment. 

Then he seized one of the girls and dragged her aside, tearing down herveil as he did so, and--

Oh, what a roar. 

A wild ejaculation of disgust escaped him, for the face under the veilwas black. 

Black as night, with huge, saucer-like eyes, and a huge mouth wearing agrin that was alarming. 

"Yah, yah! don't you like me, old man? Tink I do for you? Yah, yah!"

And Tinker stood with his tongue out, grinning at the fierce Turk. 

The deputy-governor, enraged, made a rush at poor Tinker, and gave hima spiteful, if undignified back hander. 

"Golly!" cried Tinker. "Cantankerous immense beast, old Turkey. "

"Oh!"

Just then the tyrant was greeted with a stinging spank on the side ofhis face, and turning round, there was another negress--as he thought. 

Or was it the same?

It looked the very identical face and form. 

"Yah, yah!" grinned Bogey. 

The deputy-governor looked round with a puzzled air. 

"Yah, yah!" grinned Bogey, again. 

"Yah, yah!" shouted Tinker, poking his fist into the ribs of the Turk, and nearly doubling him up. 

The Turk heard the derisive laugh, and he felt the tingling of his earand the poke in his ribs. 

So he dashed at Bogey first. 

Bogey feinted and dodged him. 

But his petticoats got between his legs, and over he went sprawling. 

The Turk sprang after him, and if Tinker had not been there, goodnessknows what would have been the result. 

But Tinker was very much there. 

He bobbed his head and shot straight forward, landing hisdeputy-excellency fairly in the stomach, with his bare woolly pate. 

"Ugh!" gasped the Turk, and down he went. 

Bogey no sooner saw him there than he hammered into the Turk'sfigure-head in the most violent and ungentlemanly way. 

Jack and Harry Girdwood laughed until the tears ran down their cheeks. 

"Begorra, " whispered the Irishman, "it's better than a pantomime, butsome of us will suffer. "

 * * * *

But the end of the adventure promised to be serious. 

The fierce Turk grew frightened, and he called for assistance. 

In came the armed eunuchs ready for slaughter. 

"Good-bye to your boys, " said the Irishman, in a whisper. 

"Not if I know it, " returned Jack; "I'm on in this scene, old man. "

"I'm with you, Jack, " cried Harry. 

Jack was in danger. Over went Harry to help him. 

The fierce Turk was filled with wonder and dismay; the enemies appearedto drop from the clouds. 

"Now, old big bags, " said young Jack, saucily, "come on, and see how aBoy of England can fight. "

The words were not intelligible to the Turks, but the gesture wasthoroughly understood. 

There was a gong-bell close beside the deputy-pasha, and one tap onthis sufficed to bring a whole mob of armed men into the room. 

"Seize these Franks!" exclaimed the tyrant, still holding his handsround his sides in pain; "they have earned their fate. Let it be swift. Away with them--oh, I am nearly killed--away with them!"

They resisted stoutly enough, fought like tiger-cats; but what was theuse?

None whatever. 

The Irishman waited to hear an ugly order given anent bowstringing, andthen he came down stairs, and made his way artfully (so that hispresence in the gallery overlooking the seraglio might not besuspected) to the corridor, where he once more discovered the two armedeunuchs on guard, looking like ebony statues again, and as calm as ifthey had never taken part in the short but stirring scene justdescribed. 

"I wish to see his excellency the pasha, " said he, "for I came hereconducting two young Englishman, of great distinction, who brought somerich presents to his excellency. "

One of the men went in, and brought out the tyrant. 

To him the Irishman repeated his tale with an extravagant show ofrespect and deference. 

"Are these the two Franks?" demanded the Turk. 

He gave the word as he spoke, and out from the seraglio marched Jackand Harry Girdwood, their arms tightly bound to their sides, between astrong escort of armed men. 

"Yes, excellency, " answered the Irishman. 

"Then they have been there, " returned the deputy-pasha; "you know whatthat means?"

"They have erred through ignorance, your excellency. "

"Then, " replied the Turk, with vindictive significance, "within an hourthey will grow wiser. Away with them!"

And the prisoners were all marched away. 

"Begorra, " muttered the Irishman to himself, "it's all up. "

But he never relaxed his efforts for all this. 

"Pardon, O excellency, " he said, "but these young gentlemen who haveoffended through ignorance, being princes of the royal blood ofBritain, their continued absence will lead to inquiries, and----"

"They shall die like dogs if they are kings, " growled the deputy-pasha. 

"Let me entreat humbly that you wait the return of his excellency, forthese Franks are but savages, and the least slight, even to theirprinces, would bring their ships of war along our coast; the town wouldbe razed to the ground. "

"Ships of war!" responded the deputy-pasha. 

"Yes, excellency, " continued the Irishman, with a frightened air, seeing the slight advantage he had got now, "the ship they came in isnow nearing the coast. It is well within range, with the cruel enginesof war these barbarians use. I tremble for the Konaki. "

"They would never dare----"

"Pardon, they would dare any thing. The death of the two princes of theblood royal would be the signal for the first shot, and then good-byeto us all. "

The deputy-pasha paused. 

The Irishman eyed him askance. 

"Begorra!" he muttered to himself, "that ought to be sthrong enough forhim. Them boys have made me tell enough lies in ten minutes to last aTurk himself a lifetime. Be jabers, I've pitched it sthrong with apurpose. He who hesitates is lost. He is thinking better of it. "

The Irishman was right. 

"I will reflect, " said the Turk, with a dignified air; "I may not sparetheir lives, but possibly await the return of his highness the pasha. "

The Irishman was dismissed. 

He bowed and retired. 

CHAPTER LXX. 

OSMOND AND LOLO THE SLAVE--THREATS AND DEFIANCE--THE CIRCASSIAN'SDOOM--OSMOND EARNS HIS REWARD. 

The three Circassian slaves had been sent as a present to the realpasha, Osmond's master, by some friendly Algerian prince, and, arrivingin the absence of the pasha, the deputy had cast greedy eyes upon therich prize. 

Finding all his authority was lost upon the Circassians girls, whostoutly refused to be persuaded, he grew vicious. 

Nothing was positively known, but the tragedy which Jack and HarryGirdwood had witnessed hard by the water-gate of the Konaki, coupledwith the recognition of the two eunuchs by Tinker as the two assassinswhom he and Bogey had capsized into the water, made matters lookaltogether very suspicious indeed. 

The few threatening words which Osmond had muttered to one of the fairCircassians, too, should have told their own tale. 

The Circassian girls had endeavoured to screen those luckless negroes, Tinker and Bogey, for had they not led the boys into the presence ofOsmond disguised as girls?

Here, then, was a pretext for further ill-usage of the unfortunateslaves. 

The girls were brought into the tyrant's presence. 

"Stand out, deceitful and faithless slave, " he said, addressing one ofthe girls; "you are accused of treason to the pasha, and you know yourfate. "

The girl addressed made no reply but by a bold, defiant glance. 

"You are to die, " said Osmond, watching the effect of his words as hespoke. 

The girls did not move nor utter a word. 

"You know now my power, " he went on to say in a low tone. "You have onechance of life yet; would you know what that is?"

He waited for an answer. 

He waited in vain. 

The proud Circassian girls did not deign to notice him. 

"You remember what I told your sister?" he said. "Reconsider what Isaid, and it may not yet be too late. "

"We do not need to speak again, " returned one of the girls. "What wehave already said is our resolve. "

"Death!" hissed the Turk, between his teeth. 

He eagerly watched for the terror his words should have produced. 

"Sooner death ten hundred times, " returned the Circassian proudly, "than acknowledge you for our master. "

"You have spoken, " exclaimed the Turk, fiercely. 

He struck a bell, and one of the armed eunuchs entered. 

"Remove these slaves to the cells as I told you; there they will remainuntil nightfall. You understand me?"

The man placed his finger upon his lip--a sign of implicitobedience--and the Circassian slaves were removed to prison. 

They were doomed. 

Another tragedy was planned--the sequel to that which Harry Girdwoodand young Jack had witnessed almost as soon as they were upon theTurkish coast. 

The cord and sack were once more to play their part. 

And could nothing avert their fate?

Their peril was extreme--greater even than that of the English lads andtheir faithful followers, Tinker and Bogey. 

 * * * *

"This is a pretty go, " said Harry Girdwood, dolefully, as he lookedround him. 

His tone was so grumpy, his look so glum, that Jack could not refrainfrom laughing. 

"Grumbling old sinner, " said he; "you're never satisfied. "

"Well, I like that, " said Harry. "You get us into a precious hobblethrough sheer wanton foolery, and then you expect me to like it. "

"Now, don't get waxy, " said Jack. 

Tinker and Bogey did not understand the full extent of their danger. 

They sat at the further end of the same chamber, grinning at theirmasters, and, if the truth be told, rather enjoying the dilemma whichthey were honoured by sharing with them. 

Their masters would be sure to pull them all through safely. 

Such was their idea. 

As soon as they had been left alone in their prison, the boys had madea survey, and Jack pronounced his opinion, and his determination withthe old air of confidence in himself. 

"They're treating us with something like contempt, Harry, " he said. 

"How so?"

"By not guarding us better than this, " was the reply. 

"I don't quite see that, Jack; the door would take us all our time toget through. "

"Perhaps, " returned Jack, "but look at the window, and just tell mewhat you think of that?"

The window, or perhaps we had better have said hole in the wall--forglass or lattice there was none--overlooked the sea. 

They were in the part of the Konaki known as the water pavilion. 

There was a drop of thirty feet to the water. 

Thirty feet. 

Just think what thirty feet is. 

About the height of a two-story dwelling house. 

"Supposing we get through there, " said Harry Girdwood, "we should neverbe able to swim all the way out to a friendly ship. 

"My dear old wet blanket, " returned Jack, "I got you into this mess, and I'll get you out of it. "

"I hope so. "

They watched anxiously for a friendly ship. 

At length their vigil was rewarded with success. 

A big ship sailed into the bay with the British colours flying at hermasthead. 

They almost shouted with joy at the sight. 

"That's a deuce of a way off, " said Harry Girdwood. 

"About a mile. "

"A mile is a precious good swim, " grunted Harry. 

"So much the better. These villainous old Turks won't be suspicious, and a mile isn't much for either of us, I think. I don't mind it, andwe can answer for Tinker and his prime minister. "

"Dat's so, " said Bogey, grinning from ear to ear. "Yah, yah! Me andTinker swim with Massa Harry and Jack on our backs. "

At dusk they matured their plan of action. 

Tinker could float on the water like a cork, and was the swiftestswimmer of the four. 

Tinker was, therefore, lowered as far down as they could manage, andthen allowed to drop into the water. 

It was a drop!

"Fought dis chile was gwine on dropping for a week, sar, " said theplucky young nigger, subsequently. 

However, once he was on the surface, and got his wind well, he dartedthrough the water like a fish. 

They watched his dusky form until they could see him no more. 

"Now, Bogey. "

"Ready, sar. "

He was lowered and dropped the same as Tinker, and speedily was uponthe latter's track. 

"Now my turn, " said Jack. "I shall go in for a header. "

"Don't, " said Harry. "You'd never come up alive if you went down headfirst from this height. "

And Jack was dissuaded from this purpose. 

He squeezed his body through the aperture. 

"Give me your hand, Harry, while I look over. "

His comrade obeyed, and Jack was able to see about him. 

Now on his left, not more than ten feet down, was a large doorway, witha flap similar to the doors on the water-side warehouses, in London, from where the stores are lowered and raised from the barges by meansof an iron crane. 

"I wonder what place that is?" said Jack; "if I could only reach it, myfall would be very considerably broken. "

He had a try. 

They fastened their two scarves together, and Harry, making himself asecure hold above, lowered Jack, and the latter swinging backwards andforwards twice, dropped the second time fairly on the ledge. 

It was a perilous hold. 

But Jack was only second to Nero in monkey tricks, and he held on in amost tenacious manner. 

Swinging himself up he pushed his way into a dark and gloomy place. 

A low vaulted chamber, dimly lighted by a flickering old lamp. 

"Where am I now?"

Before he could look further to get an answer to this question, he wasstartled by the sound of footsteps. 

What should he do?

Leap out?

Or should he wait?

He decided to wait. 

He crept up into a corner, the darkest he could find, and there, with abeating heart, he awaited the progress of events. 

He had not long to wait. 

Two dusky forms glided spectrally into the place, one bearing a lamp. 

With this, they looked about, and Jack, with a sinking at heart, recognised the two eunuchs again. 

"What devilment are they working now?" thought Jack. 

They flashed the light just then upon the objects of their search. 

Two huge sacks lay upon the floor. 

Jack but imperfectly discerned what they were; but a sickening dreadstole over him, as the two eunuchs raised one of the sacks from thefloor, and bearing it to the window, while its contents writhed andstruggled desperately, hurled it out. 

A stifled groan. 

A shriek. 

A splash. 

Jack could hear no more. 

He was about to dart out from his hiding-place upon those black-heartedwretches, when a third person stepped into the chamber. 

He said something to the two men--a few sharp words in an authoritativetone--and they retired. 

Jack recognised the voice in an instant. 

It was Osmond. 

"What is he up to now?" muttered Jack, to himself. 

A scene of intense excitement followed. 

The Turk unfastened the cord which fastened the neck of the secondsack, and dragged it open. 

Then, raising the sack on end, he proceeded hastily to drag it down, revealing in the dim light the well-remembered form of one of theCircassian girls. 

"Lolo, " said Osmond, "I come to give you one last chance. "

"I defy and despise you!" said the girl. 

"Reflect. "

"I have. "

"You know well, as I have seen again and again by your looks, that I donot hate you----"

"Would you have me love the murderer of my sister?"

"Silence, slave!"

"I fear not your menaces, " retorted the brave girl; "you must have seenthat. The triumph is yours now--mine is to come. "

"When?"

"Hereafter. Murder is against your creed as it is against mine. Do yourworst. "

Jack listened. 

Osmond seized the girl by the wrist. 

But she twisted himself free from his clutch without any particulareffort. 

Thereupon the Turk, with a growl of rage, drew his sword, and wouldhave cut her down. 

But Jack could stand no more. 

Bounding forward from his hiding-place, he seized the uplifted hand andwrenched the sword from his grasp. 

Then, without a word, Jack struck the man with the flat of his swordupon the back of the head. 

The Turk sank to the ground with a hollow groan. 

It was all so momentary that the beautiful Circassian girl looked on asone in a dream. 

Hearing footsteps now, Jack ran to the doorway and peered out. 

"Quick!" exclaimed Jack. "Lend me a hand, or we are lost. "

She could not understand his words, but his meaning was plain enough. 

They pulled the body into the sack as quickly as possible. 

Then they hastily tied the cord around the neck of it. 

This done, Jack extinguished the lamp. 

There was no time to be lost. 

He took the girl by the hand, and pulled her back into the nook wherehe had been hiding, just as the two villainous eunuchs entered thechamber. 

The two eunuchs came slowly along the corridor. 

Finding the place, as they thought, deserted, they simply raised thesack from the ground, thinking the body of the young Circassian girlwas in it, and bore it to the opening. 

One swing and over it went. 

As it fell, a hollow groan came from the sack. 

The two men stared at each other aghast, and looked over the opening. 

But before they could utter a word, a stealthy form had crept up behindthem, and with a vigorous drive, hurled them both over after the sack. 

A wild, despairing yell, and the waters closed over these wholesalebutchers. 

CHAPTER LXXI. 

LOLO'S GRATITUDE AND JACK'S DELIGHT--THE SIGNAL--UNEXPECTED TURN OFLUCK--A FAMILIAR VOICE--WHO IS IT?--"SURELY! NEVER!"--READ AND LEARN. 

"That's a good job done!" said Jack, looking after the wretches he hadpushed over. 

The fair Circassian burst into tears now that the peril was over. 

Falling upon her knees, she seized Jack's hands and pressed them to herlips. 

She poured out a long string of thanks in the most eloquent language. 

Although the language was so far wasted upon Jack, he could not fail tocomprehend her meaning. 

"There, there, " said Jack, squeezing her hand in reply to her caresses, "don't take on so, my dear girl. The danger's over now. "

But was it?

They had yet to get away. 

Jack was no worse off than when in his prison ten feet higher up, it istrue. 

But what of Lolo?

How was she to manage?

While he was cogitating over this he heard a shrill whistle from below. 

He ran to the window. 

"Hist, Jack!" cried a familiar voice from the water. 

"Hullo!"

"Drop down, Jack, " returned Harry's voice. "Here I am, in a boat, assnug as a domestic pest in a railway wrapper. "

Comic and tragic were so jumbled up in this startling series ofadventures, that Jack scarce knew whether to laugh or to cry. 

He did neither. 

There was a rope close, handy upon a sack--its destination hadcertainly not been to save life--and Jack, with the quickness ofthought itself, fastened it around the Circassian girl's waist. 

She understood his meaning, and lent him all the assistance she could. 

Once at the window, he fastened it securely, and proceeded to lower itdown. 

She looked down the dizzy height, and slightly shuddered. 

And then, before trusting herself down, she threw her arms around heryoung preserver's neck, and embraced him tenderly. 

"Bless you, " said Jack, with emotion. "If I only bring you safe throughthis, it will be the proudest day in my life. "

Now for it. 

It was a perilous moment, for the poor girl could not help herself inany way. 

But she was lowered in safety. 

"Look out, " said Jack, in a good loud whisper; "I'm coming now. "

"Look sharp, then, " called out Harry. "I smell danger. "

"Make haste, dear boy, " added a familiar voice. 

The sound thrilled Jack strangely. 

He was so full of the present adventure and its perils, that he couldnot give much thought to the voice now. 

Yet it rang on his ears as of old days. 

"You're nearly down, " said Harry Girdwood. "Drop now, old fellow. "

Jack obeyed. 

As soon as he reached the boat, he was seized in the arms of theCircassian girl, Lolo, who hugged him as if she would never part withhim again. 

"Now, my love, " said that same familiar voice, "when you've done withthat boy, I should like to have one touch at him. What do you say, Jack, my lad?"

"Heaven above!" ejaculated Jack "Why, it's Mr. Mole. "

"Right, dear boy, " returned Mr. Mole. "Isaac Mole himself, turned up inthe very nick of time. God bless you, Jack. "

"And you, too, sir. How are they all at home? My mother, my----"

"There, there, " interrupted Harry; "we'll have the family history whenwe're fairly out of musket-shot range. If they find out any thing, they'll pot us off as easily as shooting for nuts at a fair. "

"All right, " said Jack, laughingly. "Pull away. "

"Pull away, boys. "

"Aye, aye, sir. "

They had a good boatload, yet they moved through the water prettysmartly. 

 * * * *

The vessel which had anchored in the bay, and which showed the Britishensign at her masthead, was the identical ship that our old friend Mr. Mole had come in. 

The messages that they had sent back to the different stations upontheir journey had been successful in guiding Mr. Mole aright, happilyenough. 

They had barely cast anchor, when Mr. Mole had been lowered in a boat, his intention being to come ashore, and get information, if possible, regarding the object of his cruise. 

But little did he think of picking up his information in the water. 

Yet such was the case. 

When half-way to shore, they came upon Bogey swimming swiftly along. 

A few words of hurried explanation sufficed, and the astounded Mole hadthe boat pulled flush up beneath the windows of the Konaki, firstrescuing Harry Girdwood and then Lola the Circassian girl, and Jack, aswe have described. 

CHAPTER LXXII. 

THE PICNIC--FIGGINS AGAIN IN TROUBLE. 

After Jack had placed the beautiful girl in safety, he arranged for Mr. Mole to tell him the news from home. 

"Your dear father and mother are in a woeful state about you, Jack, "said Mole. 

"Why?" asked young Jack. 

"I don't like beginning with reproaches, my boy, " returned Mr. Mole, "but I must, of course, tell you. Your little extravagances have beentroubling your father a great deal. "

"I can throw some light on that subject, " replied Jack. "I have beenrobbed. Cheques have been stolen from my book, and my signatureforged. "

Mr. Mole looked grave. 

"Is this the fact?" he asked. 

"Of course. However, we need not go further into that just now. Give methe news. How is Emily?"

"Very well in health, but spirits low--sighing for her Jack, " saidMole, wickedly. 

"Did she tell you so?" demanded Jack. 

"Not exactly, but I can see as far through a stone wall as mostpeople. "

"Yes, sir, I believe you can, " said Jack. "That is about the limit ofyour powers of observation. "

"Ha, ha!" laughed Mr. Mole. "But I know how to comfort Emily, deargirl. She'll be quite resigned to your prolonged absence when she getsnews of you. I have already written home to explain the oddcircumstances under which I met you--that you were shut up in some darkroom with a lovely Circassian girl, and that you subsequently rescuedher, and how very fond of you the lovely Circassian seems, and----"

"I wish you would only meddle with affairs that concern you, Mr. Mole, "said Jack, stiffly. "I don't want you to furnish information to anybody about my movements. "

"Very good, " replied Mr. Mole, "I won't, then. I thought I might send asecond letter, to say that I was quite sure you did not care a fig forthe lovely Circassian. "

Jack thought that this might be a desirable move, and so he tried tosquare matters a bit. 

"Do so, and I will be your friend, " he said. 

"Consider it done, " exclaimed Mole. "I like you as I did, and do, yourfather, but I must have my joke. "

 * * * *

The perilous adventures which our friends had encountered on theirexpedition did not deter them from further enterprises. 

Only two days after the events just recorded, Jack's party set out on apicnic excursion, to examine the beauties of the surroundingneighbourhood. 

It was not towards the desert that they directed their steps this time, but in the opposite direction. 

Mr. Figgins, upon this journey, showed his usual talent for gettinginto scrapes. 

On passing under a group of fine fig-trees, nothing would suit him buthe must stand upon his mule's saddle in order to reach some of thefruit. 

As he was still not high enough to do this, he made a spring up andcaught one of the lower branches, to which he clung. 

Suddenly the mule, we know not from what cause, bolted from underneath, leaving the luckless orphan suspended. 

Mr. Figgins soon relinquished the search in his anxiety for his ownsafety. 

He saw beneath him a descent of some ten feet, and at the bottom adense bed of stinging nettles. 

How was he to get down?

Dropping was out of the question, for it would be like a leap intocertain torture. 

However, Harkaway called out to him to hold on, but not so loudly asFiggins bawled all the while for help. 

Meanwhile, Bogey and Tinker had started after the escaped mule, whichthey found some difficulty in capturing. 

When it was at length secured, the animal was placed in his formerposition under the tree, and firmly held by the two negroes. 

"Now let yourself down, Figgins, " cried Jack; "drop straight andsteady. "

Figgins tried his best to obey. 

When he let go the branch, it rebounded with a force that threw him outof the perpendicular, and instead of landing upon the mule's back, hefell and landed on the bed of stinging nettles. 

The orphan roared lustily--as indeed well he might--for, besides beingshaken by the fall, the pain he soon felt in every portion of his frameexposed to the nettles was excruciating. 

When the party emerged from the forest, a scene of unusual beauty brokeupon their vision. 

"This is a charming spot, " observed Harkaway. 

"And just the thing for a picnic, " added Harry. "I vote we halt underthose trees and begin operations. "

Hampers were then unpacked, bottles uncorked, and application made to apure stream of water which flowed near the spot. 

At length all was ready. 

Poor orphan, the first mouthful he took seemed to consist of cayennepepper. 

The cup of water, to which he naturally applied for relief, alsoappeared to have been tampered with, for it tasted as salt as the brinyocean itself. 

Next, and also naturally, he drew forth his pockethandkerchief, but erehe could carry it to his mouth, dropped it in haste and with a cry ofhorror, for it contained an enormous frog, which, in its struggles toescape, fell plump into his plate. 

Mr. Mole laughed loudly, whereat Mr. Figgins was naturally offended atthe schoolmaster, and began to suspect that it was he who had beenplaying these practical jokes upon him. 

Bogey and Tinker, the real promoters of the orphan's discomfiture, observed this with great inward mirth, but they soon afterwards gotinto a little trouble themselves. 

Harkaway, turning suddenly round, discovered the two black imps makingsad havoc with the sweets. 

"You young scoundrels, " shouted Jack, angrily grasping his riding-whip;"take your fingers off that jam pot immediately. "

"I was on'y a-openin' it, sar, ready for de company, " exclaimed theunabashed Tinker. 

"What's that you have in your hand, Bogey?" proceeded Harkaway, alluding to something which the darkey was hiding suspiciously behindhim. 

"Only a bit o' bread I brought in my pocket, sar, " was the reply. 

"Show it us, then, directly, sir. "

Bogey accordingly produced a crust from apparently a loaf of the weekbefore last, but while doing so, Jack's sharp eyes detected that thenigger dropped some other eatable, in his hurried endeavour to ram itinto his pockets unseen. 

"There, our large currant and raspberry tart!" exclaimed Harkaway. "Youartful monkey. I owe you one for this, and I mean to pay you now. "

Darting at them, Jack just managed to give Bogey and Tinker a cut eachon the shoulders with his whip as they nimbly scampered off, bothbellowing as though they were being murdered. 

But rapid as was the action, Nero saw an opportunity in it whereof hetook advantage, for he pounced upon the well-bitten tart, and bore itaway in triumph. 

This episode, however, was soon forgotten, and Mole began to relateadventures of himself which would have done credit to Baron Munchausen, while Figgins, not to be outdone, told wonderful stories of high lifein which he had been personally engaged. 

CHAPTER LXXIII. 

OF THE DEADLY QUARREL AND MORTAL COMBAT BETWEEN MOLE AND FIGGINS. 

"One day, " began Mr. Figgins, after a pause, "I was driving alongBelgravia Crescent with Lord--bless me! which of 'em was it?"

"Perhaps it was Lord Elpus, " suggested Harkaway. 

"Or Lord Nozoo?" said Girdwood. 

"Are you sure he was a lord at all, Mr. Figgins?" asked Mole, dubiously. 

"Mr. Mole, " said the orphan, indignantly; "do you doubt my veracity?"

"Not a bit, " answered the schoolmaster, "but I doubt the _voracity_ ofyour hearers being sufficient for them to _swallow_ all you are tellingus. "

"Well, gentlemen, " pursued Figgins, turning from Mole in disgust, "thisLord Whatshisname used to have behind his carriage about the nicestlittle tiger that ever was seen----"

"Nothing like the tiger I saw in Bengal one day, I'm sure, " broke inMr. Mole, in a loud and positive tone. "Come, Figgins, I'll bet you tento one on it. "

The orphan rose to his feet in great indignation. 

"Isaac Mole, Esq. , I have borne patiently with injuries almost toogreat for mortal man throughout this day. I consider myself insulted byyou, and I will have satisfaction. "

"Well, old boy, if you just mention what will satisfy you, I'll see, "said Mole. 

"Nothing short of a full and complete apology. "

"You don't get that out of me, " the schoolmaster scornfully retorted. "Preposterous. What I, Isaac Mole, who took the degree of B. A. At thealmost infantine age of thirty-four, to apologise to one who is----"

"Who is what, sir?" demanded Figgins. 

"Never mind. I don't want to use unbecoming expressions, " said Mole. "You wouldn't like to hear what I was going to say. "

The orphan was so angry at this that, unheeding what he was doing, hedrank off nearly a tumblerful of strong sherry at once. 

This, coming on the top of other libations, made the whole scene dancebefore his bewildered eyes. 

He began to see two Moles, and shook his fist, as he thought, upon bothof them at once. 

"I d--don't care for either of you, " he exclaimed, fiercely. 

"Either of us? For me, I suppose you mean?" said the tutor. 

"Which are you?" asked Figgins. 

"Which are who?" retorted Mole. 

"Why, there are two of you, and I wa--want to know which is the rightone, " said Figgins. 

"I'm the right one. I always am right, " said Mole, aggressively. "Youdon't dare to imply I'm wrong, do you?"

"Won't say what I imply, " answered Figgins, with dignity; "but I knowyou to be only a----"

"Stop, stop, gentlemen, " cried Jack. "Let not discord interrupt theharmony of the festive occasion. Mr. Mole, please tone down theviolence of your language. Mr. Figgins, calm your agitation, and giveus a song. "

"A song?" interrupted Mr. Mole, taking the request to himself. "Oh, with pleasure. "

And he struck up one of his favourite bacchanalian chants--

 "Jolly nose, Jolly nose, Jolly nose! The bright rubies that garnish thy tip Are all sprung from the mines of Canary, Are all sprung----"

"There's no doubt upon their being all sprung anyhow, " whisperedHarkaway to Girdwood. "Stop, stop, Mr. Mole, " he cried at thisjuncture. "It was Mr. Figgins, not you, that we called upon for asong. "

"Was it?" said the schoolmaster. "Very good; beg pardon. Only thoughtyou'd prefer somebody who could sing. Figgins can't. "

Figgins again looked at Mole, as if he were about to fly at him. 

But the cry of "A song, a song by Mr. Figgins!" drowned hisremonstrances. 

"Really do'no what to sing, ladies and gen'l'men, " protested Figgins. "Stop a minute. I used to know 'My Harp and Flute. '"

"You mean 'My Heart and Lute, ' I suppose?" said Jack. 

"Yes, that's it. And I should remember the air, if I hadn't forgottenthe words. Let's see. Stop a minute, head's rather queer. Try the watercure. "

Whereupon Mr. Figgins staggered to the adjacent brook, and, kneelingdown, fairly dipped his head into it. 

After having wiped himself with a dinner napkin he rejoined the party, very much refreshed. 

"Tell you what, friends, I'll give you a solo on the flute, " he said. "Something lively; 'Dead March in Saul' with variations. "

And without mere ado, he took up his favourite instrument, and preparedto astonish the company. 

If Mr. Figgins did not succeed in astonishing the company, he at leastconsiderably astonished himself, for when he placed the flute to hislips and gave a vigorous preliminary blow, not only did he fail toelicit any musical sound, but he smothered and half-blinded himselfwith a dense cloud of flour, with which the tube had been entirelyfilled. 

Bogey and Tinker, as usual, had been the real authors of this newatrocity, but Figgins felt convinced that the guilt lay at the door ofMole, on whom he turned for vengeance. 

"Villain!" he cried, "this is another of your tricks; it's the laststraw. I'll bear it no longer; take that. "

As Mr. Figgins spoke, he struck the venerable Mole a sounding whackover the bald part of the cranium with the instrument of harmony. 

Mole sprang upon his legs with astonishing alacrity, and, seizingFiggins by the throat, commenced shaking him. 

A ferocious struggle ensued, among the remonstrances of the spectators, but, before they could interfere, it ended by both combatants comingdown heavily and at their full length on the temporary dinner-table, and thereby breaking not a few plates, bottles, and glasses. 

Helped to rise and seated on separate camp-stools, some distance apart, the two former friends, but now mortal foes, as soon as they could gettheir breath, sat fiercely shaking fists and hurling strong adjectivesat each other. 

"I'll have it out of you, you old villain!" cried Mole. 

"And I'll have it out of you, you old rascal!" shrieked Figgins. 

"We'll both have it out, " added the tutor, "and the sooner the better. Name your place and your weapons. "

"Here, " answered Figgins, pointing to an open space before him, "and myweapon is the sword. "

"And mine's the pistol, " said Mole. "I'll fight with that, and you withyour sword. "

"Agreed, " said the excited Figgins, quite forgetting theimpracticability of such an arrangement and the disadvantages it wouldgive him. 

Figgins had a battered sabre of the light curved, Turkish make, andMole rejoiced in the possession of a very old-fashioned pistol. 

Mole gave the latter to Girdwood, who volunteered to be his second, andwho took care to put nothing in more dangerous than gunpowder. 

"Now we're about to see a duel upon a quite original principle, " criedJack to his friends. "I don't think either of them can hurt the othermuch. I'll be your second, Figgins, my boy. "

"All right. I take up my position here, " cried the orphan, stationinghimself under a tree near the brook. 

"I shall stand here, " said Mole, stopping at about half a dozen pacesfrom him. 

The orphan looked as though he intended to bolt behind the tree if Molefired. 

"Well, Master Harry, don't be in a hurry, " said Figgins. "I am notquite ready, are you, Mr. Mole?"

"Oh yes, " said Mole, "I am ready. "

He fully intended to blow the orphan's head off the first fire. 

"I'll give the signal to fire, " said Harry. "Now, are you ready; one, two, three!"

Mole's pistol-shot reverberated through the copse, but, as, a matter ofcourse, it did not the slightest harm to Figgins, who, however, thoughthe heard it strike against the sabre which he held in a position ofguard. 

It now began, for the first time, to strike the orphan that this novelmode of fighting was very awkward for himself, for how was he to get athis enemy?

At first he poised his sword as if about to fling it at him, then movedby a sudden impulse he rushed forward, with a cry of vengeance, andbegan attacking Mole furiously with some heavy cutting blows. 

Mole, as his only resource, dodged about and caught some of these blowsupon his pistol, but judging this risky work, he took up his stick andused it in desperate self-defence; thus dodging and parrying, heretreated while Figgins advanced. 

Once Mole managed to get what an Irishman would call "a fair offer" atFiggins' skull, which accordingly resounded with the blow of hisweapon. 

Half stunned, the orphan plunged madly forward and took a far-reachingaim at the old tutor. 

He, in his turn, dodged again, but his wooden legs not being so nimbleas real ones, he stumbled over some tall, thick grass, and fellbackwards into the stream. 

Jack, thinking matters had gone far enough, caught the orphan's foot ina rope, and bent him so far forward that he overbalanced himself andfell on top of Mole, and both tumbled into the water together. 

The alarm was given, and they were both drawn out, "wet as drownedrats, " but not quite so far gone. 

They were, however, entirely sobered by their immersion. 

A small glass of brandy, however, was administered to each, to preventthem catching cold, and some of their garments were taken off to dry inthe sun. 

Mole, the tutor, and Figgins, the orphan, wearied out with theirexertions, soon fell fast asleep. 

CHAPTER LXXIV. 

A TREMENDOUS RISE FOR MR. MOLE. 

The quarrel between the two had been so far made up, that when theyawoke from their _siesta_, and the fumes of the alcohol had subsided, neither of them seemed to remember any thing about the matter. 

The party got safely home without encountering either robbers, snakes, wolves, thunderstorms, or any other dangerous being or foes whatever. 

The next day, however, commenced for Mr. Mole an adventure which at theoutset promised to form an exciting page in his life. 

He was walking through the streets and bazaars of the town, Jack on oneside of him, Harry on the other, though the reader, at first glance, would probably not have recognised any of them. 

Harkaway and Girdwood presented the appearance of Ottoman civiliansbelonging to the "Young Turkey" party, whilst the venerable tutorstalked along in full fig as a magnificent robed and turbaned Turk ofthe old school. 

It had become quite a mania with Isaac to turn himself as far as hepossibly could into a Moslem. 

He had taken quite naturally to the Turkish tobacco, and the nationalmode of smoking it through a chibouque, or water-pipe. 

But in outward appearance Mr. Mole had certainly succeeded in turningTurk, more especially as he had fixed on a large false grey beard, which matched beautifully with his green and gold turban. 

He had again mounted his cork legs, and encased his cork feet withsplendid-fitting patent leather boots, and Mole felt happy. 

"They take me for a pasha of three tails, don't you think so?" hedelightedly asked his companions. 

"Half a dozen tails at least, I should say, " returned Jack, "and ofcourse they take us for a couple of your confidential attendants. "

"In that case, I must walk before you, and adopt a proud demeanour, toshow my superiority, " said Mole. 

So whilst Jack and Harry dropped humbly in the rear, he strode forwardwith a haughty stiffness of dignity, which his two cork legs ratherenhanced than otherwise. 

"Holloa!" exclaimed Harry, suddenly; "who's this black chap coming upto us, bowing and scraping like a mandarin?"

He alluded to a tall dark man, apparently of the Arab race, but dressedin the full costume of a Turkish officer, who, dismounting his horse, approached Mole with the most elaborate Oriental obeisances, and heldout to him a folded parchment. 

Mole took the document with a stiff bow, opened it and found it to be amissive in Turkish, which, notwithstanding his studies in thatdirection, he could not for the world make out. 

 [Illustration: "MOLE TOOK THE DOCUMENT, AND OPENED IT. "--TINKER. VOL. II. ]

But unembarrassed by this, he turned to Harry Girdwood, and making agesture, indicating his own inability to read it without hisspectacles, motioned him to do so for him. 

"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Harry, in amazement. "It is the imperial sealof the Sultan. Mole, old man, you have been mistaken for a pasha. "

"Is it possible?" cried Mole; "but what does it say?"

 "Imperial Palace, Stamboul. "In the name of Allah and the Prophet. "To his Excellency Moley Pasha. 

 "This is to certify that, in consequence of the lamented death of Youssouf Bey, Pasha of Alla-hissar, I am commanded by our sublime master to appoint and instal you into the said government of the city and province of Alla-hissar. Therefore you are commanded at once to proceed thither, under an escort which will be in readiness at the door of your hotel at five o'clock in the morning, after you receive this. Given at the Sublime Porte by Ali Hussein Pasha, Grand Vizier to His Imperial Majesty the Padishah. "

 * * * *

Mr. Mole turned pale with anxiety. 

"This is very serious, " he exclaimed; "but I fully expect to become aking before I die, but in this case, what shall I do?"

"Why, become a pasha, " said Jack; "it will be worth your while. We'llgive you our assistance. "

"But how am I to answer the messenger?" asked Mole. 

"No necessity to answer him; make signs that you obey the sultan'smandate; you know how they do it. "

Mole accordingly folded the firman again, placed it to his forehead, and then to his heart, bowing all the time with the most profoundrespect. 

The messenger evidently quite understood, for he bowed too, and rodeaway rapidly. 

"That's what you call having greatness thrust upon you, eh, Mole?" saidJack. 

"I don't much care about it, " answered the tutor. "I don't believe Ishall be able to carry out the character of a pasha. It's a dangerousgame. "

"Nonsense, " said our hero; "if they choose to make a mistake, it'stheir lookout. "

"I shall find it a mistake when I come to be bowstringed, or hanged, orshot, or something of that kind, " said the tutor; "but, Jack, my dearboy, I depend upon you to pull me through. "

"No fear, " answered Jack; "you're a great man, Mr. Mole, and no doubtthe authorities, becoming aware of your merits, have really made choiceof you as the governor of the pashalik. "

"But they must know that I'm not a Turk, " objected Mole. 

"That doesn't matter, " said Jack; "not only Turks, but Greeks, Americans, Italians, French, all sorts of people are in power in thiscountry. "

The excitement of the moment and the influence of some spirituousliquid he had taken before starting, so far bewildered Mr. Mole'sintellect, that he actually accepted Jack's explanation. 

"Hang it, I will be pasha, " he cried; "and risk all. Haven't I got thesultan's own firman?" and he flourished that important document roundhis head in the most defiant manner. 

"That's right, " said Jack; "keep up that spirit, and you'll make yourfortune. Remember, first thing to-morrow you are to be conducted toyour seat of government; the guard of honour will be at the door ofyour hotel at five o'clock, you will reach Alla-hissar about ten, andto-morrow morning you'll begin your public duties. "

"What will your father say, Jack, when he hears of this? But I hope youwon't desert me, my dear boys, " said Mole, imploringly. 

"We'll go with you, " answered Harry. 

"Rather!" acquiesced Jack. "We'll never leave you, old boy. "

The remainder of the day was spent by Mole in the further study ofTurkish. 

These exertions were fatiguing, and Mr. Mole was tired when he retired, as he expressed it. 

He was not long falling asleep, and dreams of glory, power, andmagnificence filled his slumbers. 

He was just dreaming he had been elected sultan when he was suddenlyand rudely awakened by a terrible knocking at the door. 

Mole started up, and was told that he must prepare in a great hurry, for the escort had already arrived. 

The tutor, still half asleep, looked out of the window, and in the daydawn he discerned a small body of horsemen at the door of the hotel. 

Mole felt that he could never get into those elaborate Turkish robeswithout assistance; luckily at this juncture young Jack put in anopportune appearance, and offered to help him. 

"You'll have to make haste, pasha, " said our hero; "strikes me you'verather overslept yourself. Where is your beard?"

"Here it is, " returned Mole; "but why didn't some of you wake mebefore? I was so busy dreaming that I was sultan, and--that's right, myboy, help me on with the cork legs and boots, that's the worstdifficulty, and then all these things, and lastly the turban andbeard. "

"I'll get Harry to help me, " pursued Jack; "you'll have properattendants when you are installed in the palace. Remember what weagreed upon last night; we are to pass off as your two sons, under thenames of Yakoob and Haroun Pasha. "

"Just so, " said Mole; "but I expected a larger escort than those half adozen men there. I would not go through this, my boy, if I thoughtfuture history would not give me a glorious page. "

"Oh, don't fear, sir, this will be something grand for you; at the gateof the town you will be met by a regular guard of honour. "

With the combined assistance of Jack and Harry, Mole was fully investedwith his Oriental robes, with which he stumped downstairs as gracefullyas a moving bundle of clothes. 

His escort consisted of six spahis, most of them black, and headed bythe messenger of the day before. 

"Jack, my dear boy, " said Mole, "at last my time has arrived to becomea great man in the eyes of the world. "

"Right you are, sir, " replied Jack. "On you go, my noble pasha. "

As soon as Mole was mounted, the chief spahi gave the word, and theimposing cavalcade set off at a quick trot. 

In two hours they had arrived at the primitive and sequestered town ofAlla-hissar. 

CHAPTER LXXV. 

THE GREAT MOLEY MOLE PASHA. 

Such an important event as the arrival of a new governor naturallycaused a great deal of excitement among the worthy inhabitants of theremote town. 

They came out in crowds to greet him, headed by all the inferiorfunctionaries, and a military guard of honour conducted him to the oldcastle, which had been fitted up as a sumptuous official residence. 

Two things puzzled his new subjects; the fact of his arrival being twodays before the appointed time, and the circumstance of the new pasha, who was apparently a Turk, returning their greetings through aninterpreter. 

However, none had any doubt of the reality of his appointment, and theproduction of the sultan's firman at once made the old cadi, ormagistrate, who had been temporarily put in command, give way to hissuperior. 

Briefly let us explain these circumstances. 

It was another hoax, and a most daring and gigantic one, on the part ofJack and his friends, upon their long-suffering tutor. 

Having ascertained that the town of Alla-hissar was actually waitingfor its new governor, the real pasha, who was to arrive fromConstantinople in two days' time, Jack and the others hit upon the ideaof making the situation the basis of a grand practical joke. 

The _firman_ was of course a forged document, written by the oldinterpreter, who was in the plot, and the Turkish officer who hadpresented it to Mole was no other than our friend the diver. 

The waiter, the orphan, and the two nigger boys had also effectuallydisguised themselves, and became members of Mole's escort. 

A skilful combination enabled them to carry out the details of theirplan with such success as to deceive not only Mole himself, but thesimple pastoral folks of Alla-hissar itself. 

Moley Pasha, as he now styled himself, was in all his glory. 

"This is a proud day, " he observed to Jack, as he gazed round on thehandsome residence provided for him. "Little did I imagine that oldIsaac would ever live to come out in all the glories of an Orientalmagnate. Jack, we must let your dear father know of this. "

"We will, sir; but now let us congratulate you, " answered our hero. "The more especially as you've promoted us to such high positions. "

Moley, the pasha, now retired to his private apartments to rest untilthe hour arrived for his first council. 

During this time, he was coached up by the old interpreter, and by hisaid, Moley Pasha found himself able to receive the reports andcongratulations of subordinates in the government, and to try severalcases brought before him. 

After three hours of arduous public duties, the pasha and his friendsretired to his private apartments, which were fitted up with everyOriental luxury. 

"By Jove!--I mean by the Prophet!" exclaimed the new potentate, "I amgetting on like a house on fire; but I am still mortal, and needrefreshment, not having had anything to speak of to-day, beyond a cupof coffee with a dash of brandy in it. "

Dinner being served up (in the Turkish style) the pasha grew still moreenthusiastic. 

"Yes, this is a delightful life, " he said; "it only wants the presenceof lovely woman to render it perfect. Now, if Mrs. Mole Number One orNumber Two or Three were here----"

"Oh, I forgot, " suddenly broke in Jack, looking very serious. "Thatreminds me, there was one most important subject I had to speak to youabout. The late pasha had thirteen wives. "

"How awful, " exclaimed Mole. "But what is that to do with me?"

"A good deal; they are now left, by his sudden death, desolate widows, and it is expected that you, as his sucessor, should take them underyour protection. They go with the premises, like the stock and fixturesof a business. "

"Heaven above! you don't mean that?" exclaimed Moley Pasha, becomingmuch agitated, and pausing ere he quaffed a goblet of champagne, whichhe drank under the name of sparkling French sherbet. 

"It's quite true, though, isn't it, Abdullah?" turning to the dragoman. 

"It's true as the Koran, itself, " returned Jack. "Every pasha ofAlla-hissar must have thirteen wives. "

"Good heaven! what'll Mrs. Mole say?" exclaimed Mole, in greatagitation; "hang it, you know, this will never do--Isaac Mole withthirteen wives. I always thought I was very much married already, quiteas much as I want to be. "

"Unless your excellency agrees, " continued the interpreter, "I won'tanswer for the consequences. "

"I have had three wives already, and now you wish me to take thirteen. I'd sooner resign my government at once, " exclaimed Mole. 

"Impossible!" returned the dragoman; "it is death to resist thesultan's firman. "

"Powers above! what a situation am I in!" exclaimed Mole, in increasingdismay. "I find it's not all roses after all, being a pasha; butthorns, stinging nettles, and torturing brambles. But about thesethirteen widows, Abdullah? Who and where are they, and what are theylike?"

"They are at present in a house not far off from here, " was the reply;"five of them, it seems, have been the widows of the pasha before last, and they are rather old; six belonged only to Youssouf Pasha, and aremiddle-aged. "

Mr. Mole responded with a deep groan. 

"The other two, " proceeded Abdullah, "are fair Circassians in the verysummer of youth and beauty. "

Moley Pasha uttered a profound sigh. 

"Ah, that's much better. "

"I expect they will be here soon, at least some of them, " saidAbdullah, the interpreter. 

The subject then dropped for a time, and the great Moley alsodropped--asleep, from the combined effects of the pipe, the coffee, andthe wine. 

He was suddenly awakened by Abdullah shouting in his ear--

"May it please your excellency, they've come. "

"Who--who?" gasped Mole, in fearful terror; for he had just beendreaming of the rack and the bowstring. 

"The noble Ladies Alme and Hannifar, widows of the late lamentedYoussouf-Pasha, " was the reply. 

"Gracious mercy!" exclaimed the persecuted Mole; "they've come to claimme, perhaps to bear me off by main force. "

"Ho, there, guards; stand round; not without a struggle will Isaac Molesurrender his liberty as a single man, that is as a married man, butnot--Heaven, my brain is growing utterly confused in this terribleposition. Where's that boy Jack?"

"Their excellencies Yakoob and Haroun Pasha are both gone out, " was theresponse. 

"Then, Abdullah, I command you to stand up in my defence. Come here. "

The old interpreter approached with a low bow. 

"Write on two pieces of card the words--'Admire Moley Pasha, but touchnot him. '"

"In Turkish?"

"Turkish and English, too. "

"Pasha, to hear is to obey. "

At this moment a young negro attendant announced--

"The Ladies Alme and Hannifar are impatient to be admitted to yoursublime presence. "

"Let them wait; it will do them good, " cried Mole, desperately. "Haveyou written it, Abdullah?"

"One moment, your highness, " was the reply. "There, " he added, finishing up with an elaborate flourish; "all will understand that. Andnow what am I to do with them?"

"Fasten one notice on my back, and the other on my chest, " answeredMole, "so that the ladies may understand and keep at a respectfuldistance. That's right. Be still, my trembling heart. Now you can admitthem. "

The negro drew aside the curtains of the chamber, and two female formsof majestic height and proportions, in gorgeous Oriental costumes, butclosely veiled, entered. 

They made a very graceful salute to the pasha, and were walkingstraight up to him, when he sprang backwards, and leaping upon a highsofa, turned his back to them, not in contempt, but in order that theymight read the Turkish inscription thereon inscribed. 

Then he turned and pointed to it on his breast in English. 

Far, however, from being struck with awe and covered with confusion, the ladies were highly amused and laughed consumedly. 

"What are they smiling at?" asked Mole, somewhat indignantly. 

"Only at the felicitous ingenuity of your highness's idea, " answeredthe interpreter, pointing to the placard. 

"Well, I hope they understand, and will abide by it, " said Mole, venturing to step off the sofa. 

But the moment he did so, the foremost, who, he understood was the LadyAlme, and was certainly of an impulsive disposition, sprang forward asif to embrace Mole. 

"Save me!" he cried. "To the rescue, guards, attendants, Jack, Harry. Where can they have got to? Help, help! Mrs. Mole, come to the rescueof your poor Mole. "

The old interpreter, with some dexterity, flung himself between them, just in the nick of time to avert from Mole the fair Circassian'seffusive greeting. 

"'Tis our Eastern custom, " explained the dragoman. "Her ladyship isonly expressing her delight at beholding her new lord and master. "

"Tell them I am nothing of the kind, and I have got a wife in England, "answered the pasha. 

Abdullah did so, whereupon the ladies set up a series of piercingshrieks and lamentations. 

"What in the world's the matter with them?" asked Mole, greatlydismayed. 

"They are desolated at the thought of having incurred your sublimity'sdispleasure. "

"Tell them that they had no business to come unless I sent for them, "said Mole. 

"They say, O magnificent pasha, that, hearing of your arrival, theyhave come thither in the name of themselves, and the other elevenladies of his late highness's harem, to know when it will be yourprincely pleasure to bid them cast aside the sombre weeds of widowhood, and----"

"There, cut it short, dragoman; do you mean that they really expect meto marry the whole lot of them?"

"Precisely so, your eminence; even now the most reverend imaum of thetown is ready to perform the ceremonial. "

"He'll have to wait a long time if he waits for that, " cried Mole;"thirteen wives, indeed, and these you say are the youngest of the lot. I suppose they have no objection to allow me to behold the moonshine oftheir resplendent features. That's the way to put it, I believe, oldman. "

Abdullah answered--

"It is against Turkish etiquette to unveil before the solemn ceremonyhas been performed; nevertheless, their ladyships consent to remove oneof their veils, through which you may behold their features. "

Alme and Hannifar accordingly threw back their outer black veils, andappeared with the white ones underneath. 

Mole scrutinized them as well as he could, but he took very good carenot to go too near. 

"And so, Abdullah, you tell me that these two are the youngest of thewhole lot?"

"Indeed, they are, your eminence; famous beauties of pure Circassiandescent; each originally cost five thousand piastres, and they surpassthe remainder even as the mighty sun doth the twinkling stars. "

"Then all I can say is, " returned Mole, "that I shudder to think whatthe eleven others must be like. Just tell the ladies Alme and Hannifarthat, as far as I can see, from here, I don't think much of them. "

"I will put your message more mildly. "

And having spoken to the ladies again, he said--

"Their ladyships are enchanted to find so much favour in the eyes ofyour excellency. "

"Thirteen wives, " mused Mole, scarcely heeding the last reply. "It ispreposterous--though nothing it seems, compared to some of the Turkishgrandees. But fancy old Isaac Mole--ha, ha! really it's quite amusing. Why, the mere marrying so many would be a hard day's work, Abdullah. "

"The ceremony would be slightly wearisome, your highness. "

"Yes, but I should require thirteen wedding rings--ha, ha, ha!--theidea of thirteen wedding rings being used at once, and by one man. "

"Don't let that be any objection, " said Abdullah; "for the ladies tellme they have come provided with exactly the number of rings requisitefor the purpose. "

Sure enough, Alme detached from her fair neck an elastic band, whereonwere strung thirteen bright gold rings. 

Mole was fairly staggered by this determined preparation on the part ofthe irresistible enslavers. 

"They mean to have me, " he gasped. "I see how it is; they come herewith the intention of dragging me to the late pasha's mansion, andmarrying me by main force. "

"It looks like it, " answered the interpreter, "for I find that theyhave brought with them a dozen of the harem-guard, fully armed. "

"Then I am indeed lost, " cried Mole. "But no, I'll die game. Here, help, guards, soldiers, fly to the rescue of your pasha. Oh! Mrs. Mole, where are you now? Your poor Mole is in danger. "

As Mole uttered the piteous lament we have recorded, both ladies made acombined charge at him, with a wild shriek and a sudden outburst inTurkish, which might have been either a chorus of endearments or ofreproaches. 

Alme got behind him and flung her arms around his neck with such vigourthat he was nearly strangled, Hannifar attacking him in the same wayfrom the front. 

In the pressure of this combined assault he was powerless; struggle ashe would, he could not detach himself from their overwhelming embrace. 

His cries for help were smothered. 

His turban was knocked over his eyes. 

He could feel the placards being torn from him, and himself beinghauled hither and thither by the ladies who seemed fighting for thesole possession of him. 

At length, by a gigantic effort, he freed himself and raised a cry ofalarm that might have aroused the dead, but in that effort, he stumbledand fell on his back over a pile of sofa cushions. 

Roused by his cries, the military and body guard of the pashalik rushedin, and the whole house was in an uproar. 

When Mole had been again uplifted to his feet, and was gasping forthconfused explanations, he perceived that the Ladies Alme and Hannifarhad mysteriously levanted. 

CHAPTER LXXVI. 

THE SUDDEN RUIN AND UTTER DOWNFALL OF THE GREAT MOLEY PASHA. 

The ladies' absence was a great relief to Mole. He devoutly hoped thathe had for ever got rid of the thirteen widows of his late lamentedpredecessor. 

About an hour afterwards, when Mole was striving to calm his irritatedfeelings with a cup of coffee and hookah, Jack and Harry arrived, asthey said, from a walk round the neighbouring country, looking asinnocent as any of the lambs they may have met on the finely-grassedhills. 

This innocent look was remarkable, because, as the reader has probablysuspected, they had really been concerned in Mr. Mole's recentadventure. 

In short, Jack had been the Alme, and Harry the Hannifar, of thedomestic scene we have described, the Turkish dress and the ladies'custom of keeping veiled, immensely assisting them in the imposture. 

"Whatever has been the matter here?" asked Jack. "As we were comingalong, we heard a dreadful row outside, and saw a large body of troopsbolting off in a deuce of a hurry. "

"Oh, my sons, " replied the pasha, in a tone of paternal pathos, "sorehath been the wretchedness and distress of your afflicted parent. Iwish you had been here, then it could not have happened. I'll tell youall about it. "

Jack and Harry Girdwood had sufficient self-command to listen withunmoved countenances to Mr. Mole's account of the adventure, and evento express great surprise and alarm at the harrowing details. 

"Shall I write home to Mrs. Mole for you, sir?" said Jack. 

"For the Lord's sake, no, " cried Mole, in dismay. 

Then they tried their best to frighten the old tutor, by suggestingvarious deadly schemes of vengeance, which it was very possible theladies of his late highness's seraglio might form against Moley Pasha. 

"You must never go out without a strong body guard, " said Jack, "for atany time they may have you seized and borne off to the harem. "

"And you'll have to take care of yourself even at home, " added Harry, "especially with regard to the food you eat, for in Turkey, those whoowe a grudge think nothing of paying it out in poison. "

"Gracious Heaven! don't talk in that way, " cried Mole. "you quite makemy blood run cold. I think--I hope--I can trust my guards and my newattendants. "

"I hope so too, " replied Jack, shaking his head in grave doubt. "Butyou must always bear in mind that treachery is one of the commonestvices of the East; you can't be too careful. "

"Oh, Allah, Allah!" exclaimed Mr. Mole, who had slipped naturally intoa habit of using Turkish interjections; "what a life it is to be apasha. I used to think it was all glory and happiness, but now I find, to my grief, that--if this sort of thing goes on, I shall bolt. "

It being now far advanced in the evening, the pasha, wearied out withthe cares and excitements of the day, retired to rest in the Turkishfashion, half-dressed, and upon a kind of sofa. 

His cork legs, of course, were carefully taken off first. 

In this Jack and Harry assisted him. 

Moley Pasha went to sleep and to dream of bowstrings, scimitars, andvarious painful forms of execution. 

The next morning, however, he arose more hopeful, and fully resolved toshow himself a vigorous and successful ruler. 

In his sumptuous seat in the divan, or hall of audience, Mole began tofeel like a monarch on his throne, and signed his decrees with all thetriumphant flourish of a Napoleon. 

It was in the height of this power and glory that there arose a suddenconsternation in court. 

Murmurs arose, shouts, mingled with the tramp of many steeds, wereheard outside. 

"What's the matter?" asked the pasha. "Who dares to make a disturbanceand disturb the pasha? Officer, command silence. "

A deadly stillness fell upon the assembly. 

For some few moments one might have heard a pin drop. 

But distant shouts in the streets, and the tramp of horses recommenced. 

The interpreter and Harry and Jack, who stood on each side of thepasha, exchanged meaning glances, which partook much of alarm. 

Consternation could be perceived on every face in court. 

It was evident that something serious was about to occur. 

"Whatever is the meaning of this?" cried the pasha, who himself seemedto feel no suspicion and alarm. "Abdullah, go and see what it means. "

The old interpreter at once hurried to the door. 

Jack and Harry, as if impelled by resistless curiosity, followed him. 

Karam, the chief of the guard, did the same, and many of those aboutthe court followed in a now excited and expectant group. 

At this moment, the shouts outside grew louder and fiercer. 

An angry consultation, in which half a dozen at least were engaged, alltalking at once, could be heard, and then Karam, the chief of theguard, came rushing back with a face full of dismay. 

"Your highness----" he gasped. 

"Well, Karam, what's the matter?" asked Mole. 

"A grand officer, who calls himself Moley Pasha, the same name as yourexcellency, is outside with a body of troops, and insists uponadmission. "

Mole started from his seat, and almost immediately sank exhausted withfright and horror. 

He saw now the peril in which he stood, and devoutly wished he weresafe at home, and in the arms of Mrs. Mole. 

"A--pasha--calling himself Moley!" he exclaimed. "What does he want?"

"He declares he has been appointed to this government by the firman ofhis imperial majesty the sultan, and that you--you--pardon, yourhighness--are an impostor. "

Mole now knew the worst. 

It was all up with him. 

But desperation inspired him with an artificial courage; he resolved todie game, and keep it up to the last. 

"Tell the so-called Moley Pasha, " he exclaimed, "that he is theimpostor. Here, guards, stand round me, and defend your rightfulgovernor. "

The soldiers wavered. 

They began to fear that all was not quite right. 

Karam, the captain, also hesitated in enforcing the commands of Mole. 

At this moment the scale was turned by Abdullah, the interpreter, rushing into the hall, and thundering forth, to the utter amazement andconsternation of Mole--

"Down with the impostor, my friends. We have all been deceived by thisusurper, who has forged the sacred signature of our mighty sultan. "

Shouts of "Down with the impostor!" now resounded on all sides, and arush was made to drag Mole from his seat. 

Poor Mole, he was entirely defenceless. 

Jack and Harry did not return; probably they had been secured by theenemy. 

Mole gave himself up for lost. 

He was surrounded by an infuriated crowd, still shouting "Down with theimpostor! Death to the infidel who dares to wear the colours of theblessed Prophet!"

It seems, indeed, that the luckless Mole would have fallen a sacrificeto Lynch law, but at this moment the real Moley Pasha, with his troops, entered the hall, and at once commanded the infuriated crowd to stop, and relinquish their victim. 

"Now, " said the real Moley Pasha, "bring before me the stranger who hasso audaciously assumed my title and dignity. "

Poor Mole, now a trembling "prisoner at the bar, " was brought, boundand guarded by soldiers, before the magnate whom of late he had defied. 

"Prisoner, " said the pasha, sternly, "what do you dare to say foryourself in defence of the crime you have committed?"

Mr. Mole, in the deepest fright and humility, made shift to stammer inTurkish--

"I don't defend it at all; I--I was egged on to it by that young JackHarkaway. "

"What's Harkaway?" now inquired the pasha. 

"The youth who came with me, and passed as my son, Yakoob, and hisfriend Harry Girdwood, or Haroun Pasha. "

"Ah! two more impostors; bring them forward, " said the pasha. 

Search was made for Jack and Harry, but they were nowhere to be found. 

In the confusion they had contrived to make good their escape. 

"Well, we must make an example of the chief offender, " said the pasha. "Prisoner, I find you have some difficulty in expressing yourself inour language, which alone should have stamped you as an impostor. Isuppose you speak French?" he added, continuing his interrogation inthat language. "I command you instantly to point out any otheraccomplices in this villainous fraud. "

"The interpreter, Abdullah, your highness, " said Mole, glad to beavenged upon that worthy. 

Here Abdullah came forward, making a gesture of disgust, and turning uphis eyes in pious horror. 

"Inshallah! what lies do these dogs speak!" he exclaimed. "I swear toyour highness, by the prophet, that I knew not, suspected not, tillthis moment that he was other than he seemed. "

"You rascally old villain! you deserve bowstringing for this, " criedMole. 

"Peace!" sternly cried the pasha. "Show me the forgery you dare to callthe firman of his sublime majesty, the sultan. "

Mole instantly produced the unlucky document. 

The real Moley Pasha instantly compared it with his own. 

"An impudent forgery!" he exclaimed, turning to the cadi of the town, who had now arrived, and was much amazed and dismayed at what hadoccurred. 

"Pardon me, I entreat, your excellency, " said the old cadi. "I trustyou will let this accusation go no further. In any case, my associatesin office were quite as much to blame. "

"'Twas this Frankish magician who has befooled us with his spells, "said several of the town officials. 

And they pointed at Mole with fierce and vengeful gestures, which madehim feel certain that his life would be sacrificed to their vengeance. 

"I doubt whether it was witchcraft or mere folly, " said the pasha, whowas much more enlightened than most of his audience. "It seems to methat this giaour is very probably the dupe of others. But, in any case, he must not go unpunished. Prisoner, your crime is proved, and Isentence you to----"

He paused. 

Mole fell on his knees. 

"To a week's imprisonment in the first place, which will allow time forfurther inquiries to be made, and, if necessary, to communicate andreceive our sublime Master's commands on the matter. Till then you willbe kept in solitary confinement, on bread and water, and closelyguarded. "

"Mercy!" Mole found tongue to exclaim. "I trust--I implore that yourhighness will at least spare my wretched life, for I declare----"

"Away with him, " interrupted the pasha. 

So the unhappy Mole was taken off in chains to his dungeon, bread andwater, and horrible anticipations of his ultimate fate. 

CHAPTER LXXVII. 

MOLE IN "THE DEEPEST DUNGEON"--HOPES OF RESCUE. 

The unfortunate Isaac Mole was now reduced to a position unprecedentedeven in his varied career. 

He was placed in the "deepest dungeon" of the old castle, which wasused as the town gaol, in a cold stone cell all to himself, and acouple of fierce-looking bashi-bazouks to watch him. 

Bread and water--both of the stalest--constituted poor Mole's onlyfare, and his lodging was literally "on the cold, cold ground. "

The constant fear of a terrible doom haunted him. 

It was the third night of his incarceration, and about the middle ofthe night Mole was kept awake by his own depressing thoughts, togetherwith the gambols of the rats that infested the dungeon. 

Suddenly the deadly stillness was broken by a sound outside, which muchagitated him. 

"Ha, what sound is that?" cried Mole; "yes, oh, joy, it is the sound ofa flute. "

Could he mistake that note?

Who could make such melancholy strains but the desolate orphan--themelodious Figgins?

Had Figgins, forgetting all past differences and animosities, come tosoothe Mole's captivity, in this manner, or--horrible thought!--was ita strain of malice or revengeful triumph that emanated from thelong-suffering and tortured instrument. 

But the flute did not long continue playing, and Mole conjectured thatit was only a signal to which he was expected to respond. 

He had no mode whatever of doing so, excepting a melancholy whistle, which, however, served its purpose. 

Through the bars of the prison, which were far too high up for him toreach, a small object suddenly came crashing, and very narrowly did itescape falling upon the prisoner's nose. 

Reaching out his hand in the dark, Mr. Mole picked it up, and found itto be a stone wrapped in paper. 

He knew at once that it must be a written message from his friendsoutside, and again he whistled as a signal that he had received it. 

A few triumphant notes on the flute responded to this, and then all wassilent again. 

How impatient Mole was for daylight, that he might read the letter. 

But it was many hours to that yet, and sleep he found impossible. 

At length, a faint streak came through the bars of the gloomy dungeon. 

Mole, with some difficulty, dragged himself under this light, straightened out the paper, and read thus--

 "ISAAC MOLE, ESQUIRE, --You are not forgotten by your friends, who much lament your misfortune. We very narrowly escaped being caught and served in the same way. We have, through Captain Deering, got hold of the British consul, to whom we have represented the affair to be only a practical joke, not deserving of a severe punishment. So we hope to get you off with a fine, which we will undertake to pay, whatever it may be. Therefore, keep up your pecker, old man, and believe us to be

 "Yours, truly as ever, "JACK AND FRIENDS. "

"Cool, after the way they've served me, " was the tutor's mental commentupon this message; "but the question is, Can the British consul, or anyother man, get me out of the clutches of these ferocious Turks?"

The next night, Mole was able to sleep. 

But his sleep was suddenly and fearfully interrupted. 

An awful and confused noise, shouting outside, flashing lights throughthe bars, the clash of arms and the hurried tramp of men, indicatedthat the prison was the scene of some warlike commotion. 

Mole started up in a state of great alarm, and struggled towards thedoor of his cell. 

"Oh, dear, oh, dear!" cried poor Mole, "this is dreadful. Oh, if I wasonly a boy again. I would stick to Old England, and never leave it. There, they are at it again. Oh, dear, why did I leave Mrs. Mole?"

The noise was as if there were a mutiny or outbreak of some kind. 

Nearer and nearer came the sound of footsteps, louder and loudersounded the clashing of arms, and the clanking of chains. 

A shout of triumph sounded just outside his cell door, and amidst avolley of interjections in Turkish and Arabic, he fancied he could hearEnglish shouts of--

"Hurrah! boys, we shall do it. Open every one of the doors, and setthem all free. "

Two heavy bolts were shot back outside, the heavy key was turned in thelock, Mole's cell door was opened, and in a burst of torch-lightentered groups of armed Bedouin Arabs. 

Mole shrank back in a corner. 

These ferocious Moslems had doubtless come to murder him in hot blood. 

In reality their object was quite different. 

The event that had happened was not an outbreak within the walls of thegarrison, but an inbreak of those whose purpose was to rescue thecaptives. 

Jack and Harry had the day before put up at the encampment of somefriendly Arabs, who became more friendly still when they found theirguests liberal in respect of coinage. 

One of the Arabs had a brother in prison awaiting the pasha's furtherorders of punishment, so they were anxious to help Jack and release theArab chief. 

Jack and Harry, being informed of this, thought it would be anexcellent opportunity for the escape of Mole, who was incarcerated inthe same gaol. 

The party set out in the middle of the night. 

They soon reached the prison. 

Darkness befriended them. 

The first step was to gain admission into the outer yard or enclosure. 

This they did by suddenly setting upon the two warders outside, and, before they could give the alarm, binding, gagging, and disarming them. 

Then, mounting one of the sentry-boxes, Jack and Harry, being thelightest and most agile members of the party, contrived thus to getover the gate, and drop down inside. 

Here, with great labour, they forced back the ponderous bolts, and theArabs poured into the building. 

The alarm was taken, and the old castle of Alla-hissar, as it wascalled, was all in an uproar. 

Gaolers and soldiers, utterly taken aback by this sudden onslaught, made but ineffectual resistance. 

Ere they could grasp their weapons and put themselves in order ofdefence, the Bedouins were on to them, striking them down, forcing awaytheir keys, and ill-treating them in proportion to the resistance tothe attack they made. 

"Tell me, slave, " thundered the Arab chief, to one of the gaolers, "inwhich cell my brother Hadj Maimoun is confined?"

"In--in No. 6, " answered the man, trembling for his life. 

"Art thou sure? Deceive me, dog, and thou diest, " continued the chief, threateningly placing the muzzle of his pistol to the man's forehead. 

"I swear, by the holy tomb of Mecca. "

"Enough; and which is the key?"

"It is numbered, great lord: see here, No. 6. "

"And the cell lieth----"

"To the right yonder. I will lead your highness thither. "

"Do so, and if you attempt to deceive us, not the fiend himself cansave you from my revenge. Come on, friends; Hadj Maimoun shall befree. "

A wild shout of triumph rose from the Arabs. 

In a few moments they had reached the cell indicated, where a youngArab, in heavy chains, looked up at their entrance. 

The chief recognised his brother. 

"Strike off these chains, villain!" the Arab then commanded the gaoler. 

The chains dropped off the young Arab, whereat his friends raisedanother triumphant shout--

"Allah, Allah, Allah! Glory be to the Prophet. Hadj Maimoun is free. "

By this time the prison was fairly in the hands of the victoriousinvaders. 

One man, however, managed to slip out, and made the best of his way tothe town to rouse the pasha and other officials. 

CHAPTER LXXVIII. 

THE RESCUE OF MOLE. 

Mr. Mole's place of incarceration would have been difficult to find inthat large rambling old building, had not Jack, by similar threats tothose of the Arab chief, forced one of the gaolers to tell him thenumber of the cell. 

Armed with this information and a bunch of keys, Jack made his way tothe deepest dungeon, followed by the rest. 

Mole's cell was the most remote, and therefore the last they came to. 

"Mercy, mercy! don't kill an unfortunate prisoner, who has got threewives somewhere about the world, and a lot of little black and whitechildren to look after!" cried Mr. Mole, still confused by the tumultaround him, and the ferocious aspect of the new-comers. 

"Kill you, Mr. Mole; why, we've come to let you out, " said the foremostof the group, and he flung back the cowl of his Moorish cloak, therebyrevealing to Mole the startling fact, that instead of a murderous Arab, it was young Jack Harkaway. 

Harry was close to him. 

A very few words now revealed to Mole the actual state of affairs. 

"Oh, my boys, my boys, " he exclaimed, "what I have suffered all throughyou. But still, Jack, my boy, I was not afraid of them. No, my boy, Iintended to have fought to the last, and I have no doubt I should havekilled a dozen or two of 'em. "

"No doubt, sir; but let us get out of this, " said Jack. "Come on. "

"But my hands are fastened with these heavy chains, " said Mole. 

"Bring a hammer and a chisel, you fellows, " called out Jack, "and we'llhave 'em off in no time. "

The ex-pasha was therefore operated upon, and in a few minutes thechains were off, and Mole was nearly a free man--not quite free, however, for by this time the whole neighbourhood was up in arms; thepasha had been roused in a hurry, and mustering his troops, had hurriedoff to the gaol. 

"We shall have to fight for it, lads, " cried Jack, drawing his Arabsabre; "we must cut our way through them, or we're lost to acertainty. "

The Bedouins were prepared to follow their leader to the death. 

The chief Zenaib, with his brother, Hadj Maimoun, led the desperateenterprise, and the numbers of their followers were now increased byall the escaped prisoners. 

As they came rushing out, they were opposed by twice their number ofwell-armed troops, whom they had to cut through as best they could. 

It was a desperate conflict. 

Hand-to-hand, cut-and-thrust, bullets discharged from pistols andmuskets, fierce charges with bayonets, continued for half an hour. 

The confusion was dreadful, the noise deafening, numbers of men killedand wounded on both sides making the result far more tragic than ourhero and his companion had ever anticipated or desired. 

The prisoners fought to secure their liberty, the Arabs out of hatredto the Turks, while Jack and Harry, with no particular animosityagainst either party, now fought desperately in self-defence. 

They received several severe cuts, and in a short time got entirelyseparated from their friend Mole. 

He, meantime, half propped up against the wall, was valorously holdingout against his former gaoler, who was trying to recapture him. Atlength, the Arabs, finding it impossible to break their way through solarge a body of disciplined troops, fell back, and their destructionwould have been inevitable. 

But, at this moment, one of the half-escaped prisoners called out thathe had discovered a back entrance, on the other side of a building, through which they might all make their exit. 

The Arab chief accordingly ordered an immediate retreat. 

The Turkish soldiers, seeing this manoeuvre, gave chase to them, whilstothers were ordered round to intercept their flight at the back. 

Jack and Harry having returned to Mole, took him between them; each oneholding an arm, they got along as swiftly as the cork legs and feet ofthe _ci-devant_ pasha would allow. 

But as ill-luck would have it, on emerging from one of the alleys, theymet the detachment of Turkish soldiers, who at once rushed upon them. 

The whole three gave themselves up for lost. 

Mole at length stumbled, and fell heavily to the ground. 

"Save yourselves at once, " he groaned. "Don't mind me; I'm done for, Ican't get a step further. Oh, dear, and my head's all bleeding fromthat sword cut. Run! Make haste, my dear boy; the wretches are firingat us!"

Reluctantly the two youths obeyed the instinct of self-preservation, byletting go the hands of the old tutor, and turning round, theyimmediately dived into one of the adjoining alleys. 

It was just in time, for at that moment, two musket balls whizzed soclose to them that the difference of a mere inch would have beencertain death. 

It was a narrow escape for them; but once out of sight of the soldiers, they finally reached a place of perfect safety, and after all, as Harryremarked--

"A miss is as good as a mile. "

Meanwhile, Mole's catalogue of misfortunes were still being added to. 

Picked up, bleeding and exhausted, by the soldiers, he was instantlytaken before the officer commanding the troops. 

Several Arabs, a few Turkish soldiers, and two of the gaolers had beenkilled, and there were many wounded men that required attending to. 

The commander had enough to do in restoring matters to order, thereforehe left the punishment of Mole to his lieutenant. 

"Remove all the prisoners, for the present, to the guardroom, " said thelieutenant. "When I open my council at noon in the divan bring them allbefore me. "

"Your excellency's word is law, " answered the head gaoler, bowing. 

The lieutenant turned his horse, and, followed by his bodyguard, rodehome in a very ill temper. 

An hour or two's rest, however, and the soothing effects of pipe andcoffee, had somewhat restored his equanimity by the time he re-enteredthe divan. 

Punctually at noon, the prisoners were brought before him by the headgaoler. 

"Let me see, " said the lieutenant, referring to the document, andchecking off the captives as they were identified; "horse-stealing, highway robbery, drunkenness, assault--yes, I have resolved what to do. As these offences seem comparatively light, and as our prison is forthe present inefficient, I shall order all these men to be punishedwith the bastinado. "

"There is one more, " said the lieutenant. "This, I find, is thewretched Frank who dared to personate our great pasha. "

"Nothing escapes your honour's penetration, " answered the vizier. 

"Such a crime deserves a heavier punishment. However, when his turncomes, give him twenty-five blows. "

"It shall be done, illustrious governor, " was the response. 

And forthwith were summoned the two burly officials whose unpopularduty it was to administer castigation. 

One bore a stout rattan, the other several pieces of strong rope. 

The frame to which they were to be lashed was then brought into theroom, it being the lieutenant's intention that the punishment should beadministered in his presence. 

The first prisoner was then seized, and his slippers--stockings notbeing worn by the majority of Turks--taken off. 

He was then bound hand and foot, and securely tied to the frame. 

The two executioners then took it in turns to administer ten heavyblows upon the bare soles of the criminal. 

At the first blow, the patient set up a howl, which seemed but toincrease the vigour and energy of the operator. 

It was indeed a terrible sight for any person of sensitiveness to see ahuman being--though deserving--suffer in this manner. 

Mole, however, didn't feel any anxiety on that score, and he made uphis mind to do the brave and noble Englishman, for he knew that theymight hammer away at his cork soles for ever, without hurting him much. 

What troubled him was the probability that they would take hisstockings off, and discovering the insensate nature of his"understandings, " order him some other and more deadly punishment. 

So, after the infliction of seeing several men suffer, with variousdegrees of bravery and cowardice, and all variety of groans andcontortions, Mole heard himself called up for similar castigation. 

He had, in the meantime, thought of a _ruse_. 

Then, marching up boldly to the lieutenant, he addressed him--

"I know I fully deserve your dreadful but just sentence and quietlywill I submit myself to the torture; but, I entreat you, do not compelme to remove my stockings, which, among my countrymen, is consideredthe deepest degradation and never inflicted, save upon criminalssentenced to death. "

"H'm!" said the lieutenant, somewhat moved. "For my part, I would justas soon suffer the infliction with bare feet as through a thin layer ofstocking. "

"But my feelings as an Englishman, " pleaded Mole. 

"Well, be it as you wish. Take off your shoes only; but, Hamed, remember to give it to him a little harder, to make up for thestockings. "

"Great lieutenant, I will obey. The force of the blows shall bedoubled. "

At this moment, Mole saw the eyes of Tinker fixed upon him, and he knewhe should yet get help. 

Mole then submitted himself resignedly to the hands of the torturers. 

Binding him like the others, hand and foot, they tied him to the frame, and the chief castigator, rolling up his sleeves, proceeded to belabourMole's soles with terrific energy. 

The blows sounded fearfully loud and sharp, and each was given withsuch vigour that even the framework creaked under it. 

But the victim showed no pain or terror. 

He did not cry out, nor flinch in the least, nor strive to mitigate thepain by twisting about. 

Thus ten heavy blows were given, and the inflictor paused. 

A murmur of astonishment ran round the assembly. 

"Truly the Frank hath wondrous strength and courage, " exclaimed thelieutenant. 

"Englishman are generally brave, " said an old Turk; "but I never knewone who would silently undergo such pain as this. "

"Make the next ten blows harder. "

The second man, therefore, in his turn, rained down upon the inanimatesoles of the ex-pasha, such fearful blows as resounded through theplace, and made many spectators shudder. 

But still the victim neither flinched nor cried out. 

"_Bismallah!_ this is truly wonderful, that a giaour so old, so grey, so apparently feeble, should thus bear so terrible a punishment. Harder, Selim. Now do you not feel it, prisoner?"

"Of course I feel it, great pasha; it even tickles my beard, " repliedMole; "but heaven hath given me power to withstand this terribletorture, and the high spirit of an Englishman forbids me to cry out. "

"I could scarcely have believed it, did I not behold it with my owneyes, " said the puzzled lieutenant. "Selim, a little harder. "

"Your eminence, the tale of blows is fully counted, " said the man, laying aside his cane. 

"Five-and-twenty already? I was so interested with the prisoner'sfortitude, that I didn't count them. He has not suffered enough yet;give him five blows more. "

"I am ready, " said Mole, stroking his false beard. "Remember, anEnglishman fears not pain. Strike away. "

And he stretched out his cork legs to their full extent. 

Five blows more were given, but had no more effect than the previousones. 

"By the holy kaaba! but this amounts to a miracle, " exclaimed thelieutenant. "I shall begin to respect the infidel for his heroism. Hamed, give him ten more blows; no, make it twenty, and do you, Selim, assist. That will be fifty; just double the amount of the sentence. Ifhe flinches not this time, he will deserve being let off altogether. "

And in truth, it would, under ordinary circumstances, have wantedwell-nigh the strength of Samson or Hercules to endure such torture asnow came upon the schoolmaster. 

Hamed and Selim, each armed with a heavy rattan, rained downalternately thick and fast, a shower of blows upon Mole's wonderfulfeet, which even shook the room, but still couldn't shake Mole'sresolution. 

He writhed not, nor uttered cry, and showed not the faintest sign ofgiving way. 

On the contrary, he jeered at the men. 

"Bah! see how an Englishman can bear pain, " exclaimed Mole. 

And to the intense astonishment of the Turks, he plucked out agood-sized handful of hair from his beard and threw before the officer. 

"Allah is--ah!"

And the Turk stopped in the midst of his speech to spit out a secondhandful which Mole, with good aim, had thrown into his mouth. 

"Wonderful!" exclaimed the bystanders, as Mole tore away at his falsebeard till he had nearly stripped the framework, while the tormentorsworked away at his feet with redoubled energy. 

"Stop, stop, " cried the pasha, for the men in their energy had exceededeven the fifty blows without knowing it, and seemed to be going on_ad libitum_, "stop; unbind and release the prisoner. "

The two men, who were bathed in perspiration through their exertions, accordingly removed Mole's bonds, assisted him to his feet, and helpedhim put on his shoes. 

"Prisoner, " said the lieutenant, "your heroic conduct this day has wonmy deepest admiration. Be seated, and rest your poor feet, and thentell me something of your history. "

"My poor feet will still support me, therefore I will not be seated, but standing thus, " said Mole, stamping his cork feet on the ground, "will show you something wonderful. "

CHAPTER LXXIX. 

MOLE PASHA ASTONISHES THE NATIVES STILL MORE--THE ORDER OF THE GLASSBUTTON. 

"I am all attention, " replied the lieutenant. 

"I came from a land, " said Mr. Mole, with a grandiloquent flourish, "where we despise physical suffering. "

The august Turks around were filled with wonder and with admiration forthe speaker. 

After what they had witnessed, they were prepared to credit Mr. Mole'smost extravagant assertions. 

"Would you have some further proof of my great courage?" demanded Mr. Mole, folding his arms and striking a defiant attitude. 

"Brave man, what more can you show us of your courage?" was the reply. 

"Behold!" cried Mole. 

The whole assembly eyed Mr. Mole's movements with the greatestcuriosity now. 

"Bring me a dozen sharp implements, such as swords, knives, daggers, etc, etc. "

They were brought to him, and he then laid them down in a row upon thecarpet. 

The first was a needle of the dimensions of an ordinary bodkin. 

Next this, was a small iron skewer. 

After this came a long-bladed dagger knife. 

And finally, there was a cut-and-thrust sword of alarming dimensions. 

"You shall see now, " said Mole, sternly, "how I can despise suchtrivialities as your bastinado. "

What was he about to do now?

In solemn silence, Mr. Mole bared his right calf, then requested thecompany of his black servant Tinker, who was still in the hall. 

The request was granted. 

"Tinker. "

"Yes, Massa Mole. "

"Go and fetch me----"

Here he sank his voice to a whisper, and the rest of his instructionswere heard by no one save the darkey, for whom they were intended. 

In the course of a few moments, Tinker returned and passed somethingslyly into Mr. Mole's hand. 

It was a small sponge in an oil-skin bag. 

Yet it appeared to be saturated with something, to judge by the way itwas handled, for Mr. Mole slyly put it in his pocket. 

Mr. Mole then took up the smallest of the row of implements justdescribed. 

"Behold what an Englishman can do!"

And then to the amazement of the spectators, he thrust the needle intothe thick part of his calf. 

A quiet smile played about the corners of his mouth. 

But no sign of the slightest suffering. 

"Judge how much your bastinado can affect me, " he said, with superbdisdain. 

"Allah be praised!" ejaculated the Turk; "wondrous man. "

"Behold, " pursued Mole, picking up the skewer. 

He passed it fairly through his calf, and stood there with his footfirmly planted on the ground, gazing about him like another "monarch ofall he surveyed. "

"Look again. "

And Mole took up a large nail, and hammered it into his foot, so thathe was pinned to the floor. 

"Allah be praised!" again shouted the Turks. 

"One more proof, " he said, disdainfully. 

He picked up another dagger, and pushed it resolutely into the ill-usedleg. 

At the same time he held the calf with his left hand, in which heconcealed, with considerable dexterity, the sponge which Tinker hadbrought him. 

Blood now trickled slowly through Mr. Mole's fingers, and ran down hislegs and feet. 

A thrill of terror passed through the assemblage. 

"Yet another proof, " exclaimed Mole, grandly. 

"No more, no more, " exclaimed the Turk. 

Mole withdrew the nail from his foot, and the dagger from his leg, andseizing the sword, he thrust it with ferocious energy into the othermutilated leg. 

He pressed his hand to the wound, and the blood flowed out in a smalltorrent, while the spectators groaned. 

Mole looked round him proudly--defiantly. 

Had he just conquered on the field of Waterloo, he could not have showna greater apparent belief in himself. 

He smiled sardonically as he bound up the wounded legs with his scarf. 

Mr. Mole here nearly spoilt his exhibition of his marvellous power ofendurance, for pricking his finger accidentally with a pin, he sang outlustily, much to the astonishment of the Turks. 

But he was lucky to recover himself in time before the Turks coulddivine what had occurred. 

"You must invent something more violent than any punishment I have yetseen here, if you would subdue the soul of Isaac Mole. "

And he strode along with the air of the heavy man in a transpontinemelodrama. 

The marvellous exhibition of endurance aroused the phlegmatic Turk toreal enthusiasm. 

"Mole Pasha, " he exclaimed, "you are a great hero. I shall seek anaudience of his highness the Sultan, and beg of him for you some markof distinction, perhaps even to confer upon you the distinguished orderof the glass button. "

"The glass bottle would be more in your excellency's way, Mole Pasha, "suggested Tinker. 

And henceforth when Mole walked abroad, the population was aroused. 

"Behold the bravest Frank that ever lived, " they said. "He is a greathero. "

CHAPTER LXXX. 

THE SNAKE IN THE GRASS--THE POISONED DAGGER. 

As young Jack was sauntering through the streets of the town one day, he fancied that he was being followed by a man who was dressed in asemi-Oriental garb, but whose head was shaded by a broad-brimmed hat. 

Jack was not given to fear without a cause, yet he certainly did feeluncomfortable now. 

At first he thought of turning round and facing the man sharply. 

But this, he reflected, might lead to a rupture. 

A rupture was to be most carefully avoided. 

He was determined, however, to assure himself that he was followed. 

With this view, he made a circuitous tour of the city. 

Still the man was there like his very shadow. 

"This is unendurable, " muttered Jack. 

So he drew up short. 

Grasping a pistol, which he carried in his pocket, with a nervous grip, he waited for the man to come up. 

But the man did not come up. 

He disappeared suddenly, at the very moment that Jack was expecting tocome into collision with him. 

How strange!

Jack was not conscious of having an enemy--at least not one in thatpart of the world. 

"Very strange, " he muttered; "very strange!"

And brooding over this episode, Jack wended his way thoughtfullyhomewards. 

 * * * *

"Hah!"

Crossing the very threshold of his residence, Jack was suddenly andswiftly assaulted. 

The same semi-Oriental figure had stolen stealthily up behind him, andwith a murderous-looking knife dealt him a sharp, swift blow. 

Jack bounded forward, and turned round pistol in hand, but so nearlyfatal had been the blow that Jack's coat was ripped down the back. 

"Hah!"

The assassin was marvellously nimble; although Jack made a dart afterhim pistol in hand, meaning to wreak summary vengeance upon him, theruffian contrived to vanish again--mysteriously. 

Strangely disturbed by this, Jack went home and related to his friendswhat had taken place. 

"This is a rum go, " said Mr. Mole; "you have been mistaken for somebodyelse. "

"So I suppose, " returned Jack. 

"What's to be done?" said Harry Girdwood. 

"Lodge information with the police at once, I should say, " suggestedMole. 

"By all means. "

"What was he like?"

"I could scarcely see, " was Jack's reply, "for he was gone like aphantom. "

"Perhaps it was a phantom, " suggested Harry slily. 

"I should be half inclined to think so, " said Jack, "if I hadn'treceived this solid proof that he was flesh and blood. "

Saying which, he turned round and displayed the back of his coat, ripped open by the assassin's dagger. 

"Well, " exclaimed Mole aghast, "that is cool. "

"I'm glad you think so, " returned Jack, "for I can tell you it was muchtoo warm for me. "

"Well, we shall soon leave this wretched place, I hope, " said Mole, "for I don't feel safe of my life. I am expecting every day to be hadup again before the pasha. "

"We must always be on the watch now, " said Harry Girdwood; "constantvigilance will he necessary to avert danger. "

 * * * *

Let us follow the movements of the would-be assassin. 

The secret of his sudden disappearance was really no great mysteryafter all. 

Darting round the first corner so as to put a house between himself andJack's pistol, he found himself suddenly seized by a vigorous hand, anddragged through an open doorway. 

"Let go, " hissed the assassin, fiercely, "or----"

He raised his long-bladed knife to strike, but before he could bringhis arm down, the dagger was beaten from his grasp. 

"Now, " said the stranger planting his foot firmly upon the knife, "listen to me. "

"You speak English, " said the assassin, in surprise. 

"Because you spoke English to me, " was the reply; "until then, I tookyou for one of us. "

"What do you want with me?" demanded the Englishman, doggedly. 

"Not much, " returned the other, speaking with great fluency, althoughhis foreign accent was strongly marked. "I have saved you from theconsequences of your failure. Had my friendly hand not been there todrag you out of sight, your young countryman would have shot you. "

"Well, " returned the assassin, surlily, "I owe you my thanks, and----"

"Stop--tell me would you like to succeed in this in spite of your latefailure?"

"Yes. "

"Then I will give you a safe and sure method. "

"My eternal thanks, " began the foiled ruffian. 

The stranger interrupted him. 

"Reserve your thanks. Tell me what you can offer if I help you. "

"Money!"

"How much will you give to see your enemy removed from your path?"

"I will give a good round sum, " returned the Englishman, eagerly. 

"Name a sum. "

He did. 

A good round sum it was too. 

"Now, then, " said the Turk, producing a small phial containing a palegreenish fluid. "Observe this. "

"Well?"

"Anoint your dagger with this. Scratch him with it; let your scratch beno more than the prick of a pin, and he will be beyond the aid ofmortal man. "

"Is this sure?"

"Beyond all doubt. Would you have proof?"

"Yes. "

"Wait here a moment. "

The Turk left the room, and presently he appeared carrying a small ironcage. 

"Look. "

He held up the cage, and showed that it contained two large rats. 

"Now, " said he, "remove the stopper and dip your dagger's point in. "

The Englishman obeyed. 

"Now, prick either of the rats ever so slightly. "

The Englishman pushed the point of the dagger through the bars of thecage, and one of the rats came to sniff at it--probably anticipating asavoury tit-bit to eat. 

Moving the dagger slightly, it barely grazed the rat's nose. 

But it sufficed. 

The poor beast shivered once, and sank dead. 

"What do you say now?" demanded the Turk. 

"I am satisfied, " replied the Englishman. 

"Now, before you go, " said the Turk, "I will give you a hint. Theslightest scratch will suffice, as you see. "

"Yes. "

"Dip two ordinary pins in the poison, and send them by letter to yourenemy. Place them so that in opening the envelope, he will probablyscratch his finger. "

The Englishman's eyes sparkled viciously. 

"I will, I will. "

"Let me know the result, and should you want my aid, you will note wellthe house on leaving so as to know where to return. "

"Yes. What is your name?" demanded the Englishman. 

"Hadji Nasir Ali, " was the reply; "and yours?"

The other hesitated. 

"Don't give it unless you feel it is safe, " said the Turk. 

"There's no harm in your knowing it, " returned the Englishman. "My nameis Harkaway. "

"Hark-a-way?"

"In one word. "

"I see. Farewell, then. "

"Farewell. "

And the interview was concluded. 

 * * * *

"That letter is a splendid dodge. Look out, Master Jack Harkaway, lookout, for I mean to cry quits now, or my name is not Herbert Murray, "muttered the Englishman, as he walked away. 

But how Herbert Murray had got to Turkey requires some explanation. 

It will be within our readers' recollection that after his unsuccessfulattempt on Chivey's life, and the adventure of the groom with the oldSpaniard, Murray found himself on board the same ship as his groom. 

He resolved to make the best of this circumstance, as it could not nowbe altered. 

A few days after leaving the Spanish coast they put into one of theMediterranean ports, and there heard that young Jack and his friendshad gone on to Turkey. 

"I'll follow them!" exclaimed Murray. "I can do as I like now thegovernor's gone and I've plenty of tin, so look out for yourself, JackHarkaway. "

Murray's ship was delayed by adverse weather, but at length reachedport, and Herbert had scarcely put foot on shore, when he beheld youngJack, the object of his deadly hate, walking coolly down the streetsmoking a cigar. 

This so enraged Murray that he hastened to disguise himself in Orientalattire, and then made the attempt on Jack's life which we have related. 

 * * * *

That same night a man was found dead on the threshold of the house inwhich Jack Harkaway and his friends resided. 

How he had died no one could imagine, for he had not a scratch on hisbody. 

Yet, stay. 

There was a scratch. 

Just that and no more. 

In his fast-clenched hand was found an envelope addressed to Mr. JohnHarkaway, and on a closer examination a pin's point was seen stickingthrough the paper. 

This had just pricked the messenger's hand. 

So slightly that, had not the tiny wound turned slightly blue, it wouldhave entirely escaped notice. 

 * * * *

Jack was now aware that he had in Turkey a deadly enemy, but who he washe could not yet tell. 

When the men of skill assembled around the body, they were puzzled toassign a cause of death until one of them suggested it was apoplexy. Soapoplexy it was unanimously set down for. 

There was no more fuss made. 

The man was only a poor devil of a Circassian, who got a precariouslivelihood as a public messenger. So they

 "Rattled his bones Over the stones, Like those of a pauper whom nobody owns. "

And meanwhile, his murderer went his way. 

"Fortunate I gave the name of Harkaway to that old professionalpoisoner, for they will never trace this job to me. "

There was, however, one result from this using of Jack Harkaway's namewhich Herbert Murray certainly never contemplated. 

But of this we must speak hereafter. 

 * * * *

In spite of his knowledge of the fact that he had enemies following hisfootsteps, our hero would not remain in the house. 

"I am quite as safe in the street as here, " said he, in reply to HarryGirdwood's representations of the danger he ran, "and I am sure, oldboy, you would not have me show the white feather. "

"You never did that, and never will; but you need not run intounnecessary danger. "

"'Thrice is he armed who has his quarrel just, ' and his revolver wellloaded. Ta-ta! I am just going to stroll down to this Turkishsubstitute for a postoffice, and see if last night's steamer broughtany letters. "

So Jack strolled down accordingly, and found a letter for him. 

His heart beat with joy as he recognised the handwriting, and hehurried home to read it. 

On breaking open the envelope, out tumbled a beautiful carte de visiteportrait, a copy of which we are able to give, as we still thoroughlyretain young Jack's friendship and confidence. 

He kissed it till he began to fear he might spoil the likeness, andthen placing it on the table before him, began to read. 

And this is the letter--

 "DEAR JACK, --_You very naughty boy. Where have you been, and why have you not written? I have a great mind to scold you, sir; but on second thoughts, I think I had better leave the task of correcting you to your parents, who, perhaps, have more influence with you than I have. You don't know, dear, how anxious we have all been about you. Poor Mr. Mole has started in search of you. Have you seen him yet?--and if you don't write soon, I shall feel obliged to try and find out what has become of you, for I almost begin to fear that some fair Turkish or Circassian girl_----"

"The deuce!" Jack thought; "she can't have heard any thing of thataffair yet. If Mole has written, the letter could not have reachedEngland on the 20th of last month. "

Then he continued--

 "----_has stolen your heart, and Harry Girdwood's too. Why, poor Paquita always has red eyes when she gets up. So, darling Jack, do write at once, and cheer our hearts. I can't help writing like this, for I feel so fearful that something has happened to you. So be a dear, good boy, and send a full account of all your doings to your father, and just a few lines to

 "Your ever faithful and affectionate. _

 "EMILY. 

 "_P. S. --I was just reading this over to see if I had been too cross, when your father came in with a photographer, who took my portrait without my knowing anything about it. Do you think it like me, sir?_"

Then followed three or four of those blots which ladies call "kisses. "

CHAPTER LXXXI. 

MR. MOLE AGAIN OUT OF LUCK. 

Herbert Murray, attended by Chivey, was strolling down the principalstreet of the town, smoking his cigar, thinking how he could yet serveout young Jack, when he suddenly saw, on in front, the figure of anelderly man, who appeared to walk with difficulty. 

He made such uncertain steps and singular movements, as he hobbledalong by the aid of a stick, that the effect, however painful to him, was ludicrous to the onlookers. 

"Why, blest if it ain't old Mole, the man who came to bid youngHarkaway and his friends good-bye when we sailed, " cried Chivey. 

"Or his ghost, " said Murray. 

"I'll have a lark with him, sir, " said the tiger, laying his fingeraside his nose, and winking knowingly. "You see!"

And walking nimbly and on tiptoe behind the old man, he soon caught upto him without his knowing it. 

Murray halted at a little distance, ready to behold and enjoy thediscomfiture of Mole. 

The reader must be informed that the venerable Isaac was thenexperimenting upon a new substitute for those unfortunate much damagedmembers, his cork legs. 

An American genius, with whom he had recently made acquaintance in thetown, had induced Mole to try a pair of his "new patent-elastic-spring-non-fatiguing-self-regulating-undistinguishable-everlasting cork legs. "

The inventor had helped Mr. Mole to put on these formidable"understandings, " and given him every instruction with regard to theirmanagement. 

"They'll be a little creaky at first, " said the American; "nothing innature works slick when it's quite new, but when you get 'em well intowear, they'll go along like greased lightning; now try them, old hoss. "

Creaky indeed they were, for they made a noise almost as loud as arailway break; but what was even worse was that the Yankee had failedto inform Mole of the fact that the "new patent" etc. , were only fittedto act perfectly on a smooth surface. 

Now the roadway, or footway--for they are all the same in those oldTurkish towns--are the very reverse of smooth, being principallycomposed of round nubbly stones. 

Consequently Mole's locomotion was the reverse of pleasant. 

Chivey crept up behind the old schoolmaster, and seizing an opportunityand one of his legs, gave it a pull, which caused Mole to roar withfright. 

Down, of course, came Mole on the nubbly pavement, but Chivey didn'thave exactly the fun he expected, for instead of his getting safelyaway, Mole fell on him. 

"Oh, it's you, is it? You, the bad servant of a bad man's wicked son, "exclaimed the angered tutor; "it's you who dare to set upon defencelessage and innocence, with its new cork legs on? Very good. Then takethat, and I hope you won't like it. "

Whereat he began pommelling away at Chivey. 

Chivey roared with all his might, till a small crowd of wonderingonlookers began to collect. 

"What do you mean by daring to assault my servant in this manner?"asked Murray sternly, as he came up. 

"He attacked me first, " protested Mole; "and it's my belief you set himon to do it. "

"How dare you insinuate----" began Murray, and he violently shook theold man by the collar. 

But there was more spirit in Mole than Herbert was prepared for. 

By the aid of a post, the old man managed to struggle to his feet, andleaning against this, he felt he could defy the enemy. 

"My lad, " he said, "it's evident that you didn't get enough floggingwhen you were at school, or you'd know better manners; I must take youin hand a bit now, sir, there!"

With his stick he gave a cut to the palm of Murray's hand, just as hewas wont to do to refractory pupils in the old days. 

Murray was livid with rage. 

Chivey, now rather afraid of Mole, didn't interfere. 

"Come on, if you like, and have some more, " said Mole, and shaking hisstick at both of them, he again urged on his wild career. 

Very wild indeed it was, too. 

Mole's patent legs, which outwardly looked natural ones, were indeedself-regulating, for they were soon utterly beyond the control of thewearer; they seemed to be possessed of wills of their own; one wishedto go to the right, the other to the left. 

Sometimes they would carry him along in double quick march time, andanon halt, beyond all his power of budging. 

Of course the boys of the town were attracted by the stranger'ssingular movements, and began to hoot and jeer. 

The merchants were interrupted at their calculations, the bazaarkeepers came to their doors, long pipe in mouth, to see what the "sonof Sheitan" was about. 

Mole was red in the face with such hard work. 

"Confound the Turks, " he cried; "why don't they make their roadssmoother? Oh, dear, I wish I could manage these unhappy legs; therethey go. "

By this time the crowd had become unpleasantly dense around him. 

"Out of the way, un-Christian dogs, " cried Mole, flourishing his stickround his head; "I'm an Englishman, and I've a right to--hallo! thereit goes again. "

 [Illustration: "'OUT OF THE WAY, UNCHRISTIAN DOGS, ' CRIED MOLE. "--TINKER, VOL. II. ]

For here his left leg took two steps to the right, and he came downwith all his weight upon the toe of a white-bearded Alla-hissite. 

"Son of a dog, " growled the old Turk, as he rubbed his pet corn inagony; "may your mother's grave be defiled, and the jackass bray overyour father's bones. "

"I really beg your pardon, " began Mole, but just at this moment hisright leg was taken with a spasmodic action, and began to stride alongat a furious rate, creaking like mad. 

Mole lost all control (if he ever had any) over his own movements, andwas carried forward again, till he came where Herbert Murray andChivey, having made a _detour_, happened to be just turning thecorner of the street. 

"Stop me, " yelled Mole, as he flourished his stick over his head; "myspring legs are doing what they like with me. I have no control overthem. Oh, dear, they are at it again. "

Chivey, undeterred by his recent castigation, thought he would repeatthe trick, so, when Mole came up, he, by a dexterous jerk, turned himround as on a pivot. 

He was thus stopped in his forward course, but this didn't check theaction of his clockwork legs, which now scudded along as swiftly asbefore, into the very heart of the yelling crowd. 

The result was rather bad for the Turks; they went down like a lot ofninepins before Mole's railway-like progression. 

"A mad Christian, " they cried; "he is possessed with a devil; down withhim. "

The perspiration streamed from Mole's face; he felt that if thespring-work in his new cork legs did not stop, he should die. 

At this moment a body of women approached, closely veiled. 

Their _yashmaks_ obscured all but their eyes, which could be seen toopen wide in wonder at the extraordinary behaviour of the red-facedgiaour. 

Two of the younger and slender ones fell with piercing screams beforeMole's impetuous charge. 

A third, a stout woman of middle age, stood her ground, and Mole, before he could stop himself, rushed into her arms, and floored her. 

The scream she gave surpassed in loudness that of all the others puttogether; and brought up several ferocious-looking Turks, bent oncondignly punishing the outrageous conduct of the mad Englishman. 

"Death to the giaour; down with him!" roared the excited crowd. 

What fate he would have suffered we dread to think, but he found anunexpected deliverer in the person of the old white-bearded Turk, whosecorns he had trodden on. 

"Defile not your hands with the blood of the unbeliever, " he said; "buttake him before the cadi to answer his conduct. "

"To the cadi, to the cadi!" was now the cry. 

"Hear me, " said Mole, astonishing himself by his proficiency inTurkish; "I am not to blame, but at all events, take up those two otherEnglishmen who assaulted me. "

He pointed to Murray and Chivey, who had by this time got into a densecrowd of Turks, whom they were elbowing in an angry manner. 

"Take all the infidels before the cadi, " cried the Turks. 

Herbert Murray and Chivey were accordingly seized, and the whole threeborne off to one doom. 

The cadi was seated in his divan, administering justice, as was hiscustom, in the open air. 

His style of doing so was summary, but vigorous. 

"Let the giaour, who has unwarrantably assaulted the true believers, receive one hundred lashes, " he said; "or pay fifty pieces of silver toour treasury. "

"I haven't got the money, " said Mole. 

"Then receive the punishment, " said the cadi. 

This time there was no ceremony used; two negroes bound Mole, pulledoff his shoes and stockings, and exposed to view the new patent steelclock-work legs. 

"Allah, what have we here?" cried the cadi. "Is the Christianenchanted, to be half man, half machinery?"

"My lord, " said Mole, "if you'll only permit me to speak, I'll explainall. 

"Having lost my legs in the wars, helping the Turks to beat their foes, I have been induced to try as a substitute this new invention, andbehold, the legs were enchanted, and I had no control over them. "

"Allah kerim! Can this be?" exclaimed the cadi. 

"That was the whole reason of my conduct, your excellency, " pursuedMole; "otherwise, I would perish sooner than have attacked truebelievers. But these infidels, " he added, pointing to Murray andChivey, "first attacked me, as many here may bear witness. "

"If that be so, " said the magistrate, "we will remit your sentence onpayment of fifty sequins. "

"Gladly would I pay the sum if I had it, " said Mole; "but I haven't. "

"Search him, " cried the cadi. 

Mole was searched, but the investigations of the officer could notbring to light a greater sum in his pockets than a bad sixpence and abattered fourpenny-piece. 

"Little enough, " grumbled the cadi, pocketing the amount; "but as it isall you have, I consent to take it. We must have it out of the otherinfidels; they too are English, and look rich. Bring them before me. "

Herbert Murray and Chivey were accordingly examined. 

Mole gave evidence as to their assaulting him, though they utterlydenied doing so, but Mole's statement being backed up by severalbelievers who had witnessed it, the judge declared both guilty, andsentenced them to the bastinado. 

"Me bastinadoed!" exclaimed the indignant Murray, . "I'd have you know, sir, that I'm an Englishman of rank, of influence, of property, and----"

"Of influence, eh? Very good; then you'll have to pay a fine of fivehundred sequins, " cried the cadi, exultantly. 

"I swear that I haven't----"

"Search the infidels, " cried the cadi. 

The officers did so, and altogether twenty-five pounds, in gold, notesand silver, were found upon Murray and Chivey. 

With an audible chuckle, the cadi took possession of it all. 

"There, " he said; "so now go in peace, all of you; and if I find youmaking another disturbance in the town, it will be bastinado and gaol, as well as a fine. Go, infidels, and remember the grand Turk. "

CHAPTER LXXXII. 

THE CONSPIRATORS--THE DEED--THE FALSE INFORMERS. 

The walls of Alla-hissar gleamed in the noontide heat. 

The air was heavy with sleep, which weighed upon all living things, andmade them seek shelter from the burning sun. 

All was still in the city. 

It seemed as if the spirit of death brooded over all the habitations. 

Yet there were some awake at that dreary hour. 

Gathered together at one of the principal houses in secret conclavewere some of the chief Turks of the province. 

In spite of the heat, the heavy curtains covered the doorways. 

The door was shaded, and the assembly spoke in subdued tones. 

At length Ibrahim Bey, a grave old Turk, subtle and resolute, arose. 

"It is sacred then, friends, " he said, looking round at the assembly;"the deed must be done, and the hour is at hand. "

"Such is the will of Allah, " was the reply of the conspirators. 

"'Tis decided then, that Moley Pasha, our new governor, has, since hehas assumed power, done all he could to destroy our old customs, andintroduce the manners of the infidel Franks, therefore he must die. "

"He must die, " murmured the assembly. 

"Allah's will be done, " said old Ibrahim, turning up his eyes piously;"but by whose hand shall the blow be struck? Who will take upon himselfthe dangerous deed?"

Up rose Abdullah, the interpreter, formerly of Mr. Mole's party. 

"I will do it, " he said, in a firm voice; "he dies ere another hour hassped. I will risk the deadly danger, if you will guarantee, that if Isucceed, I shall be rewarded. "

"That is but just, " said Ibrahim Bey. "Should it be his sacredmajesty's pleasure that I succeed Moley, a post of honour shall be theguerdon of your bravery. "

"I accept the terms, " said Abdullah; "I know a secret way into thepalace, I have a disguise and a dagger; doubt not my courage for therest. Wait here, my friends, and ere another hour strikes, I shallreturn to say the deed is done. "

He glided from the room, leaving the others wondering at the coolaudacity with which he undertook so desperate and criminal a deed. 

The angel of sleep had spread her wings over the seraglio of MoleyPasha. 

The veiled beauties of the harem had retired to their luxurious rooms. 

The pasha slept soundly and peacefully. 

Well for him had his dreams warned him against the peril that hoveredover him like a black shadow. 

For the form of a woman, tall, thin, closely-veiled, glided along thepassages of the harem. 

Her steps gave forth no sound, and she disturbed not the sleepingservants. 

She glided like a smooth serpent, or an invisible spirit; her presencewas unseen, unfelt, unsuspected. 

She enters the inner chamber where lies the unconscious pasha. 

She bends over him, she draws forth a knife, slender, tapering to apoint almost like a needle. 

The pasha still slept on, the fountain outside made sweet music, heardthrough the curtains and windows. 

A smile played upon the pasha's lips. 

He was dreaming, perchance, of the rosy bowers and the dark-eyed_houris_ of Paradise. 

Suddenly the knife descended, there was the flash of a moment, while ithovered like a hawk over its quarry, the next instant it was buried inthe pasha's heart. 

A deep groan was the only effort of expiring nature. 

The fiercely flashing eyes, and a part of the face of the murderer werenow exposed; the dress was that of a woman, but the form and featureswere those of Abdullah the interpreter. 

For a moment he stood gazing on his deed, then lifted some tapestrywhich concealed a small door, and disappeared. 

 * * * *

What cry was that which startles the seraglio from its siesta?

What combined lamentation disturbs the whole palace with its harrowingintensity?

All the inmates of the establishment have been rudely awakened fromtheir slumbers. 

It was the pasha's favourite wife who had broken in upon the privacy ofher lord, and she had found him dead. 

Dead, plainly by the assassin's dagger, but what assassin, none couldeven suspect. 

None could conjecture by what means any stranger could have obtainedentrance and exit. 

Then arose that dreadful wail of despair, that beating of breasts, andtearing of tresses. 

The news soon spread, and the whole town was in a fever of commotion. 

Who had done the deed?

Who was to be Moley Pasha's successor?

The conspirators played their parts well. 

Ibrahim Bey pretended to be terribly amazed and shocked: he refused tobe placed at the head of affairs until the sultan's will should beknown, and he offered rewards for the discovery of the assassin. 

A council, consisting of Ibrahim and others, was now established totemporarily rule the town. 

A grand funeral, at which all the dignitaries of the place attended, was given to the unfortunate pasha, the evening after hisassassination. 

The same night arrived a firman from the sultan, proclaiming IbrahimPasha of Allahissar. 

Such is the perilous nature of the power and dignity in Eastern lands. 

Ibrahim at once appointed Abdullah his vizier, and gave all the otherconspirators important posts. 

Several perfectly innocent men were arrested and hanged on a pretendedsuspicion of having caused the late pasha's death. 

At the first divan held by the new pasha, two Englishmen wereannounced, who were said to be the bearers of important evidence aboutthe murder. 

They were admitted accordingly, and proved to be no others than Murrayand Chivey. 

"Christians, you are welcome, " said Ibrahim, through his new vizier. "Allah in his wisdom hath sent you hither, wherefore discover yourknowledge. "

Murray bowed, and seated himself upon a chair pointed out to him by thepasha. 

Chivey, as a servant, wasn't honoured with a seat, whereat he murmured, half to himself--

"Well, they might let a cove sit down, and if they offered us a drop ofsomething cool this hot weather, it wouldn't come unwelcome. "

Reclining on his divan in the old Turkish style, and smoking his_hookah_, Ibrahim listened to Murray's communication. 

"It may already be known to your excellency that there is in yourdominions a young scapegrace of an Englishman, named Jack Harkaway. Hehas surrounded himself with many doers of evil, worse even thanhimself, amongst whom is an old scoundrel, formerly a schoolmaster, who, though he has lost both his legs, still continues to go about, andget into mischief. "

"The audacious giaour who dared to impersonate Moley Pasha?" askedIbrahim. 

"The same, " continued Murray. "Well, I have received proofs that it wasthis Harkaway and his friend who murdered the real Moley Pasha. "

"Shade of Eblis!" exclaimed Ibrahim, pretending to be much shocked. "This must be seen to; Christian, proceed. "

"Harkaway was once my friend, " continued Murray, "and it is quiteagainst my will to speak against him; but my love of justice is aboveall other considerations. "

"Christian, " said Ibrahim, "proceed. "

"In the harem of your illustrious predecessor, " said Murray, "therelately resided a Greek girl, of exquisite beauty, named Thyra, a pearlof delight, a peri of Paradise, and she was bewitched by this Harkaway, who, how we know not, penetrated within the sacred precincts of hishighness's harem, and stole her away. "

"Vengeance of Allah! but he deserves death!" exclaimed the pasha, halfrising, and his eyes flashing with anger. 

"But, your eminence, to make his crime complete, he committed another;he stabbed the pasha to the heart. "

"By the sword of the prophet, he dies!" exclaimed Ibrahim; "but whatproof hast thou of all this?"

"I can bring several witnesses to the truth of what I say, " saidMurray. "If any other proof were wanting, Thyra, the pearl beyondprice, disappeared from the palace the very day, the very hour of thepasha's death, and she is now at the residence of Harkaway and hisfriends. "

"Please, your worship, " here broke in Chivey, "if you'll let me have mytalk, I'll prove it, as sure as eggs are eggs. "

"The giaour's servant entreats your highness to listen to the words oftruth, " was the way in which the astute Abdullah translated thisappeal. 

Chivey gave his evidence, a story carefully concocted between him andhis master, and to this was added the confirmation of several nativesof the town, men who would swear black was white, for a dollar or two. 

Of course, old Mole was represented as Harkaway's chief adviser, andhis aider and abettor in the late pasha's death. 

This story, of course, did not really impose upon Ibrahim Pasha; heknew more of the actual facts than Murray could do, but it served histurn to pretend to believe it, so he thanked Murray for hisinformation. 

Abdullah (the real assassin) was so profound a dissembler, so utterlydevoid of conscience, that he put down, at Murray's dictation, thenames of the innocent Harkaway and his friends, remarking calmly--

"I think we have got hold of the right criminals at last. "

"We will send and have them arrested at once, " said Ibrahim. "Vizier, let these Christians be rewarded for their information by a purse ofgold, and despatch an armed force to the lair of those English dogs, who have slain my lamented predecessor. And, Vizier, don't forget, whatever you do, to bring the beautiful Thyra to me. "

"Pasha, to hear is to obey, " said Abdullah. 

"Ha, ha! I think we've done for the Harkaway party this time, " saidMurray gleefully to Chivey. 

"It was a capital dodge, I must say, " answered Chivey, "although mybelief is that Ibrahim Passher is an old rascal, and knows who reallydid for the last governor. "

"Keep all such suspicions to yourself, " said Murray. 

In a short time the captain of the pasha's guards, with a detachment oftroops, marched out to arrest our hero and his friends. 

The news spread like wildfire that the murderers of the late pasha hadat length been discovered. 

CHAPTER LXXXIII. 

JACK HAS TO STAND A SIEGE. 

And how far were Jack Harkaway and his friends really guilty in thismatter?

It was indeed true that Thyra, the beautiful Greek slave before alludedto, had fled from the harem of the late pasha. 

But this had nothing at all to do with his assassination. 

No doubt Thyra cherished a strong attachment for young Jack, havingfound a refuge in the same house. 

She could not overcome it. 

"I throw myself upon your protection, " she said. "If I returned to mymaster's, my fate would be instant death, but that would be preferableto living without you, and be for ever separated from you. "

Jack was much embarrassed. 

He told her, gently as he could, that her love was hopeless. 

"Oh, do not say that, " cried Thyra, bursting into tears. "Do not sendme away; I'm ready to be your slave, and obey your every word. "

Jack consulted with his friends under this difficult and delicatecondition of affairs, and they all agreed that Thyra must not be givenup to the pasha. 

An hour afterwards, the report of his murder made matters still moreserious. 

But he never dreamed that any suspicion of the actual crime would beturned against himself. 

It was therefore agreed to keep Thyra in close concealment, until anopportunity offered to get her back to her friends. 

The house occupied by Harkaway and his friends was, like most Orientaledifices, built for endurance. 

The walls were thick and strong as those of a castle. 

The doorway was narrow, and led into a square courtyard or garden, andwith a fountain in the centre. 

Into this yard most of the rooms opened. 

The windows facing the street were mere loopholes. 

The roof was flat, and in the evening formed a favourite lounge, approached by a flight of steps, from one angle of the court. 

It is necessary to be particular in describing the house, that ourreaders may fully understand what follows. 

Jack Harkaway was one morning in the courtyard, near the centre, withHarry Girdwood, looking at a heap of curious weapons, which they hadpurchased when roaming about the bazaars. 

"Why, we've got quite an armory here, " said Harry Girdwood. "It's apity we haven't got some fighting to do to use them. "

"I mean to make the place into a kind of fortress, " said Jack. "Here, Bogey. "

"What you after, Massa Jack?" asked the nigger, appearing instantly. 

"Go and take charge of the gate, and don't let anyone pass in or outwithout my order. "

"Right you are, massa; me keep him safe as a sentrybox, " answered thedarkey. 

And he started off to take up the post assigned to him. 

Jack next summoned Tinker. 

"Serve us up our dinner here under the trees, " said Jack; "and be quickabout it, you rascal, or----"

"Understand puffeckly, massa, " responded the black. "To hear yer is toobey yer, as dese Turkeys say. Yah, yah. "

It was very pleasant to sit down to their repast under the refreshingshade of the trees. 

Of course Mr. Mole and the orphan, as well as Thyra, the waiter and thediver, were summoned and came at this juncture. 

The orphan and Mole appeared arm-in-arm. 

Mr. Mole had a black bottle in one hand and a tall glass in the other. 

He looked very jolly, whilst the orphan appeared rather melancholy, forhis flute had got slightly cracked. 

"Have a drop to raise your spirits, " said the schoolmaster, filling hima brimmer, and fairly forcing it into his hand. 

The orphan could not refuse so pressing an invitation. 

He drained the glass, and as it came upon the top of several more, itseffect upon him was not inconsiderable. 

Intending to walk straight to the table, he walked, instead, extremely"slantindicular, " till lurching up against the fountain as he passedit, he stumbled over its ledge, and fell with a splash into the middleof its basin. 

Mr. Mole, with the best intentions in the world, rushed to hiscompanion's rescue. 

Before Mole could reach the orphan, his patent legs being stilluncontrollable, and his head unsteady also, he fell backwards, smashinghis wine bottle on the stones of the courtyard. 

The scene was certainly ludicrous, and elicited much laughter from thespectators. 

They, however, helped the orphan out of his accidental and veryunwelcome bath, which, though it had drenched him, had also soberedhim. 

Mole was also assisted to re-assume an erect posture, and in a shorttime, both of them were sufficiently recovered to take their places atthe table. 

Mole and Figgins seemed somewhat struck by the warlike appearance ofthe place. 

"What are you going to do with all that cutlery?" inquired Mr. Mole. 

"Perhaps you mean to set up in the scissors trade?" suggested theorphan. 

"You'll see by and by, old man, " answered our hero. "We shall find 'emuseful, perhaps sooner than you expect. "

"Oh, dear! I hope not, " exclaimed Figgins. "I'm sure I don't want anymore fighting; I have had more than is good for my health. "

The waiter now took up his accustomed duty of attending on the guests. 

The diver, at Jack's request, summoned Thyra, whose classic features, slender form, and Eastern garb, were well in keeping with the scenearound. 

A seat of honour was kept for her at the _al fresco_ banquet, towhich Jack gallantly conducted her. 

No one could doubt her love for him, for it shone out in her slightestaction, her very words, and look, and tone. It seemed a pity that hecould not return it, otherwise than by studied politeness andconsideration. 

To be at his side, to hear the sound of his voice, was her greatesthappiness, and made her forget all other dangers and troubles. 

When towards the conclusion of the meal, Jack proceeded to--

 "Fill high the bowl with Samian wine, "

and hand it to Thyra, it was to her a moment of supreme pleasure. 

Her dark eyes sparkled, her soft cheek flushed, and her jewelledfingers trembled as they held the crystal glass, filled with what, forhis sake, and independent of its own nature, was to her as the nectarof the gods. 

"Hark! What noise is that?" asked Jack, with such suddenness, thatThyra spilt some of the wine ere it could reach her lips. 

There was indeed a sound in the street like the blended hum of manyvoices, and tread of many feet, each moment becoming louder. 

"Perhaps it is some procession, " said Harry Girdwood. 

"Or a march round of the troops before the new pasha, " said Mole. "Oh, how I pity him. "

"No, there's something up more dreadful than that, I am sure, "exclaimed the orphan. "Oh, this terrible country. I'll go hometo-morrow if they'll only let me. "

"Here, Tinker, you black son of a gun; go up on the roof, and seewhat's the matter, " said Jack. 

The nigger ascended as nimbly as a monkey. 

At that moment a thundering knock came at the outer gate. 

"What you want?" asked Bogey, still acting as porter. 

"Open, in the name of the pasha, " said a stern voice outside. 

Bogey replied not, but ran in to his master. 

Tinker and he arrived breathless at the same moment. 

"Awful lot o' soldiers--Turks--outside, big guns and swords, massa, "said Tinker. 

"Wants to come in here, too, " added Bogey. "Hark! Oh, ain't they givingwhat for at the door? They're at it again, a-hammerin' away. "

And the thundering knocking was repeated louder than before, and astern voice demanding Thyra, the slave. 

"Just as I feared, " cried Jack; "they've found out where Thyra is, andhave come to drag her back. "

"Oh, powers of Heaven, protect us all!" she exclaimed, nervouslyclutching Jack's arm. "Am I unfortunate enough, dear Jack, to havebrought you into this great peril? I entreat you to save yourselves bysurrendering me; only do me one favour; let one of your number shoot medead as soon as I am in the enemy's hands. "

"Impossible, dear Thyra!" said Jack. "Do you think, as a Boy ofEngland, it is possible for me to act in that cowardly way? No; we mustmake a gallant resistance. Surely we are well prepared; here are armsenough for all. Where's the Irish diver?"

"Here, your honour, ready for any row that's goin'. "

"Mr. Mole, you can handle a gun, " said Jack; "here is one that willjust suit you. "

The waiter and the orphan were also accommodated with weapons, but theorphan thought he would rather load the guns than fire them off. 

"Quick! get all the movables, and place them against the gate, " saidJack. "With its own strength, its bolts, and bars, and keys, and abarricade behind it, we can defy this band of Turks, or the sultanhimself. "

All gave a cheer at these defiant words, and proceeded with theirimpromptu fortification with great vigour. 

"I'll go up on the roof and reconnoitre, " said Harry. 

And dangerous as was this duty, he proceeded to it with great alacrity. 

In a few moments he came down, with much consternation on his face. 

"This is a bad job, Jack, " he said; "worse than I thought. "

"How?" asked our hero. 

"We are accused of murdering the pasha, as well as carrying off theyoung Greek girl. There are over a hundred of the pasha's troops onguard outside, with that scoundrel Abdullah at the head of them, andthousands of wild Moslem fanatics, thirsting for our blood. "

"I will go and see for myself, " cried young Jack. 

"For Heaven's sake, don't, " said Harry, restraining him; "it will becertain death, for you, as our leader, are the particular object oftheir animosity. "

Thyra's entreaties were even more pressing. 

She threw her arms round Jack's neck, and earnestly entreated him notto risk his life. 

"Dear Thyra, " cried Jack, "you shall not be taken. I will and mustprotect you. "

He sprang up the stairway, and was soon on the roof. 

It was a sight indeed to appal the stoutest heart. 

As far as the eye could reach was an excited crowd, restless, furious, and thirsting for vengeance. 

In the front were a body of troops, in Turkish uniform, led by thecaptain of the guard by whose side could be recognised the sinistercountenance of Abdullah. 

They caught sight of Jack Harkaway. 

He was recognised. 

A shout burst from a thousand throats; a deep, angry cry, like the roarof a tempestuous sea. 

Thousands of eyes flashed upon him--the eyeballs gleaming white fromout of the dusky skins. 

"The murderer of the pasha--the despoiler of the harem!" they cried. "Death, death to him, and all the Christians!"

Jack endeavoured to parley with them; but it was useless, until silencewas obtained by the commands of the captain of the guard and Abdullah, who called out to Jack--

"Resistance is useless; surrender at once, or I will not answer foryour life. "

"If you want me, you must come and fetch me, " returned dauntless Jack. 

"Your blood be upon your own head, then, " said Abdullah. 

The captain gave the word of command, and the battering, for a whilesuspended, was recommenced upon the door below. 

CHAPTER LXXXIV. 

THE SIEGE--THE ESCAPE--A DESPERATE RUSE. 

Jack now left his dangerous elevation, and returned to his friends. 

"Quite as bad as it can be, " he said; "there's nothing for it but tomake a desperate resistance, and to die game. "

The yells and shouts of the crowd outside were like the combined roarof a large herd of wild beasts. 

The blows became more furious on the door. 

It quivered beneath the repeated shocks; but its own strength, and thatof the fastenings, and particularly the barricade behind it, stilldefied the efforts of the besiegers. 

Suddenly the hammering ceased, the yells of the crowd subsided. 

Then came a volley of musketry. 

They were firing at the door. 

The volleys came thick and fast; the woodwork, strong as it was, beganto be penetrated by the bullets. 

It was clear the place would soon be untenable. 

Should the besiegers enter, all hope of escape would be over. 

"At least, we'll return their fire, " said Jack. 

The windows in the wall facing the street were mere loopholes. 

At each of these, Jack commanded one of his men to take his stand, andpick off the enemy with the rifle. 

It was a dangerous game, but it served its purpose. 

Several of the besiegers fell before the well-aimed shots of thebesieged. 

The Turks began to think that they were being opposed by a considerableforce of well armed men. 

Their own shots failed to reach the highly-placed and narrow windows, which were now so many portholes for the fire of the besieged. 

The captain and Abdullah accordingly ordered their troops to fall back. 

The excited crowd gave a yell of disappointment. 

"I do believe we've defeated them, after all, " cried Harry Girdwood. 

But it was only a lull in the storm--a fatal presage of overwhelmingdisaster. 

The Turkish commanders now resolved to make certain of victory bybringing up a cannon. 

If, by this means, their troops could once effect an entrance--and thiswas almost certain--what could stop their progress. 

What were Harkaway's mere handful of men against the thousands theywould have to encounter!

Once more, and at greater peril than ever, Jack went on the housetop toreconnoitre. 

He laid himself down flat that he might not be seen, but yet contrivedto take a rapid glance of the position. 

The house was detached on three sides; the fourth side was builtagainst the wall of a mosque. 

Upon those three sides the building was entirely surrounded by troops. 

The only chance of escape would be by the mosque. 

But how was this to be effected?

The wall of the sacred building rose high above that of the house. 

Jack raised himself to examine it more closely. 

A flash--a report--and the whiz of a bullet told him that he wasobserved. 

A volley followed from all sides. 

It would therefore be impossible for his party to raise a ladder, andthus escape from their own roof on to that of the mosque. 

Jack, the bullets whistling thickly around him, managed to crawl unhurtto the trapdoor and again descend into the courtyard. 

"Well, Jack, what think you of the situation now?" asked Harry. 

"Desperate, indeed. "

"They gave you a very warm reception, my boy, " said Mr. Mole. 

"It will be warmer still when they capture us, " said Harkaway. 

"Oh, gracious, gracious! how shall we ever get out of this? Oh, dear!oh, dear! I wish I was in London once more, " cried the orphan, wringinghis hands. 

His distress contrasted strongly with the calm, self-possesseddemeanour of the beautiful Thyra at this time of supreme peril. 

"There is but one thing we can do, " said Jack. 

"What is that?" asked Harry, anxiously. 

"Break through that wall and get into the mosque; that's the only sideof the building which isn't surrounded. "

"But it is impossible to pierce such a wall as that, " said Harry. 

"We'll try, at all events, " Jack responded. "Come, boys, " he added, "one last desperate effort, and we'll baffle 'em yet. "

The waiter and diver understood in a minute. 

Hurriedly they collected the tools--pickaxes, crowbars, chisels, andhammers--and they all set to work on the masonry. 

But their momentary hopes soon subsided. 

The mortar had, in the course of ages, become even harder than thestone itself. 

It was impossible to make any impression upon it. 

When they saw this, disappointment was depicted upon every countenance. 

Jack flung down, in sheer despair, the chisel with which he hadattempted to break the mortar. 

As the implement fell upon the stones of the courtyard, Thyra's quickear noticed the peculiar sound. 

"It is hollow beneath here, " she exclaimed, eagerly. 

Again testing the floor in the same way, they became convinced that shewas right. 

There were probably vaults beneath this courtyard, and this stoneconcealed the entrance to them. 

Animated by this fresh hope, the party now worked away, and in a fewminutes had lifted the ponderous flagstone. 

A flight of rude steps, leading down into utter darkness, wasdiscovered. 

"As I thought, " cried Jack, "these are vaults; we may baffle them afterall. Bogey, run down immediately and see what they are like. "

Bogey hesitated not a moment, but skipped down the rude steps anddisappeared. 

The others waited his return with great anxiety. 

At this moment, a shout of triumph was raised by their enemies outside. 

It signified that the cannon had been brought, and that the attackwould soon recommence. 

The hope of escape was still of the very slightest. 

In a few moments Bogey returned. 

"Well?" asked Jack. 

"All cellars, massa, goin' along--oh, miles and miles under de earth, all dark, 'cepting a bit of light that comes here and there throughlittle holes in de roof. Plenty of room to hide all of us, sar. Oh, golly, won't de nasty Turks go mad?"

"Hurrah! down you go immediately, " said Jack. "Now then, ladies first. Harry, I commend Thyra to your care. Take her down. "

"I can not, will not leave you, dear Jack, " she cried, desperatelyclinging to our hero. 

"No, no; I will soon be with you. For Heaven's sake. Thyra, do nothesitate now, or we shall all be lost. Go quietly; it is my wish. "

Thyra resisted no more, but with Harry's assistance descended the stepsinto the vault. 

"Now, Mr. Mole, down you go, " said Jack. "Here, Figgins, you take hislegs and go first, or they'll be running away with him again. Tinker, follow behind, supporting his head. "

But Mr. Mole objected to this arrangement. 

"What! do you think I'm an infant, to need carrying?" he said, withoffended dignity. "No, though I have got patent self-controlling corklegs, I can walk down by myself. "

And to prove this, he began jauntily descending the steps. 

But the next moment he lost his footing, and with a cry, tumbled rightdown to the bottom, on to the body of the unfortunate orphan. 

Luckily, it was not very far to fall, and Mr. Mole was very littlehurt, though Figgins got the worst of it. 

"Now, boys, down you go, " cried Jack. "Hark! they are battering downthe gate with artillery. "

At that moment a ball tore through the doorway, shattered the top ofthe barricade, and at length lodged in the solid masonry. 

Yells of triumph broke from the Turks. 

"Quick! Tinker, Bogey, for your lives!" cried Jack. 

"Is it that we are to desart ye!" cried the Irish diver. "No, Mr. Jack, I'll see you down first. "

"Please make haste, " said Jack almost imploringly. "Of course I shallsave myself; but I'm the captain, you know, and I mustn't leave theship till the last. "

Thus reassured, the rest descended, and no sooner was the last safe inthe vault, than Jack Harkaway shut down the stone in its place, thusclosing the opening. 

Then he hastily laid earth in the interstices round it, and tried toefface all signs of its having been recently removed. 

With equal rapidity, he gathered up the crowbars, chisels, etc. 

All this time the firing continued. 

The door would soon give way and the enemy pour into the courtyard. 

Was our hero mad, thus to remain behind while his friends escaped?

No. 

His conduct was part of a desperate and deep-laid design. 

He saw that if he had followed them in their rapid flight, the Turkswould be sure to perceive that the stone had been removed, and thiswould at once enable them to discover the retreat of the whole party. 

By remaining outside, he could restore the stone to its originalappearance. 

And this he had now done. 

But his own safety?

He had thought of that, too. 

Wild and desperate as was his scheme--one that required far more thanordinary courage to accomplish--gathering up the tools, he re-enteredthe house, and rapidly ascended to his own room. 

Here, from the window, he could perceive how much the crowd of enemieshad increased outside. 

He was almost shaken off his feet by another discharge of artillery. 

But every second was precious. 

Hastily Jack robed himself in the ordinary garb of a middle-classTurk--for he had plenty of Oriental garments--bound a turban round hisbrows, and rubbed his face all over with a chemical powder, whichgreatly darkened his complexion. 

He quickly stained his eyebrows a deep black, with henna. 

None of his friends could now have recognised Jack Harkaway. 

But how were his enemies to be deceived and eluded?

Having completed this hasty transformation, Jack descended the stairs. 

He looked out into the courtyard. 

A third discharge of artillery had now broken down the door, and thetroops were rapidly clearing away the obstacles before entering in abody. 

Loud were their shouts of triumph, and Jack recognised the countenanceof Abdullah, lit up by a savage satisfaction. 

But a glance sufficed. 

Jack then retired into the smaller garden at the back, where hecompletely concealed himself under some thick shrubs. 

In a few moments, the troops were all over the yard, probing andseeking in every corner. 

Just as Jack had calculated, the soldiers were followed by a wildhelter-skelter of Turks, of all ages and conditions, fanatical Moslems, who were ready to raze to the ground the accursed house where theChristians had taken refuge. 

The soldiers were considerably surprised to find no one. 

They sought in every room in vain, to their intense disappointment. 

Abdullah's fury was terrible to witness. 

Speedily the whole house was filled with a motley Turkish rabble. 

In this fact consisted Jack's safety. 

Seeing the moment when a number of the Turks were passing hishiding-place, he stepped out and mingled with them. 

In the confusion, nobody noticed him. 

In appearance, he was just like a score of other wild Turkish youthswho were in the throng, shouting lustily "Death to the Christians!" inwhich cry Jack joined with great vigour. 

The crisis of his danger was now over. 

He had only to follow the movements of the crowd, and join the firstgroup who, tired of their search, went back through the gate. 

This soon happened, and amongst those disappointed Turks, Jack Harkawaywas not for a moment conspicuous. 

Mingling now with the crowd outside, Jack soon found an opportunity ofslipping down a side lane, and reaching the suburbs of the town. 

He was free, his disguise still protecting him. 

He now increased his speed, making towards the desert. 

For there dwelt the tribe of Arabs with whom he was friendly, who hatedthe new pasha as much as the old one, and who would be sure to extendtheir assistance to the gallant young Englishman, and enable him torescue his friends. They received him kindly. 

Jack told his story--in which they were all powerfully interested--butthey told him that nothing could be done until the chief returned. 

In the meantime, our hero was so overcome by excitement and fatiguethat a deep sleep fell upon him, despite his efforts to keep it off. 

CHAPTER LXXXV. 

ADVENTURES IN THE VAULTS--NEW FRIENDS--JACK AGREEABLY SURPRISED. 

We must now follow Jack's friends in their subterranean flight. 

They were, in fact, the remains of some ancient and long-disusedfortifications, of far greater antiquity than the edifice which hadbeen built over them. 

Light and air were only admitted by small gratings on the sides of theroofing, which was about level with the ground outside. 

As soon as the party had got over the confusion of their hurriedconcealment, Harry Girdwood took the lead. 

Their greatest distress was the loss of Jack Harkaway. 

That he was not with them soon became evident. 

And that being shut outside would be certain death to him, seemedequally so. 

Thyra could by no means be consoled. 

Her grief at this separation from Jack took the form of intense andviolent lamentations. 

She declared that had she known that Jack would thus be left outside, no consideration would have induced her to enter the vaults. 

In her frenzy of despair and her love for him, she resolved to go backand perish with him. 

But all her efforts were inadequate to raise the stone which hadalready resisted the greater strength of Harry Girdwood. 

As soon as the Greek girl could be in the least degree pacified, theparty proceeded through the vaults, Harry reminding them that they wereby no means out of all danger, but that further on some other outlet, or at least more secure retreat might be discovered. 

It was a great drawback that they had no lamp or candle, but Tinker hada box of matches, and by lighting one of these at every few yards, theywere enabled to gain some idea of the place they were in. 

In this way they penetrated a considerable distance, till arriving at akind of wide underground room, the party rested awhile. 

Harry Girdwood now proposed to go and explore the further portion ofthis subterranean region. 

Leaving, therefore, the others resting, he took the box of matches, andentered the further passage. 

He soon found a low rugged opening, from which another passage branchedoff. 

Going through this, Harry was almost sent falling on his face throughmaking a false step, for he did not see that this passage lay more thana foot lower than the other. 

Then he struck one of his matches, and by its light perceived that thispassage was lower, narrower, and more rugged and winding than the restof the vaults, and seemed to have been hewn out of the earth, ratherthan built in it. 

"Perhaps this leads to a cave, " he thought, "inhabited by robbers orwild beasts. In that case I shall come off badly. I ought to havebrought Bogey with me; he's ugly enough to frighten any body. Nevermind, here goes. "

And grasping his cutlass in one hand, and in the other a piece oflighted paper, which he had twisted into the form of a torch, HarryGirdwood marched manfully on. 

Grazing his head against a jutting piece of rock reminded him that thepassage was growing very small, and it behoved him to stop. 

Suddenly Harry stopped. 

He heard voices. 

He saw the gleam of a light at the end of the passage. 

He was apparently approaching some robbers' lair. Here was a freshperil. 

But there was still time to draw back from it. 

No; urged on by curiosity, Harry determined to see and know the worst. 

In a few moments that curiosity was gratified. 

He came to a point where the narrow, winding passage terminated, leading out into a lofty, rugged vault fitted up in rude imitation of aroom. 

Here, seated upon the floor in a group were about a dozen men, allarmed, and by their dress and appearance evidently Bedouin Arabs. 

Harry was at once reassured. 

He knew that the Arabs were enemies to the Turks. 

The sharp eyes and quick ears of one of these sons of the desert soon"spotted" the stranger, and before he could resist or retreat, gave thealarm. 

Two of them seized and secured him. 

Harry now feared that his curiosity would cost him dear. 

Questioned by their chief, Harry, by dint of words and signs, explainedwhat had occurred. 

The Bedouins became at once friendly. 

They were ever ready to help even the unbelieving Christians againstthe still more hated Turks. 

Two of their number were therefore told off to accompany Harry back. 

By the aid of a torch, the three soon found their way to the rest ofthe party, who were astonished and alarmed at the ferocious appearanceof their intending deliverers. 

Indeed, the waiter and diver drew their weapons and prepared to offerresistance, but Harry stepped forward and explained that the Arabs werefriends. 

Thyra, who could speak perfectly both Turkish and Arabic, acted asinterpreter, and gave a full account of all that had occurred, whichseemed to impress the Bedouins greatly. 

The beauty of the speaker produced a powerful effect upon the young andgallant chief to whom Thyra particularly addressed herself. 

"Oh, brave sheikh, " she exclaimed, "hasten to assist the youngEnglishman whom I love, and who has fallen into their hands while sogenerously saving his friends. "

"Lady, more beautiful than the peri of the gate of Heaven, " replied thechief, Kara-al-Zariel, "I and the warriors of my tribe will protectthee and thy friends. "

Thyra knelt and kissed the hem of the Arab chief's garment in humblegratitude. 

He raised her from the ground. 

As he did so, the deepest admiration shone from his dark and luminouseyes. 

But Thyra felt love only for young Jack. 

"We were even now debating how to attack the Turks, " said the Arab, "Ibrahim is our enemy; but from thy words, it would appear that theyare strong and many, and armed with the weapons of western science. Inthe desert, we fear neither men, nor kings, nor armies, but in thecities our strength availeth not. "

"But you will at least fly to the assistance of brave Jack, " imploredThyra. 

"It is too late; already the castle is in the hands of the pasha's men, and your friend doubtless is their captive!"

"But you will rescue him?" entreated Thyra; "promise us that. "

"I promise to make the attempt, fair maiden, " answered Kara-al Zariel;"but it must be by night and by stealth. "

"That hope gives me comfort, " exclaimed Thyra. 

"Thou seemest greatly to love this Frankish youth, " observed the chief, bending his dark eyes upon her; "if so, he is much to be envied. "

"Gallant emir, " said Harry, addressing Al-Zariel at this juncture, "isthis cave safe from the entrance of our common enemy?"

"Safe as the top of Caucasus, as far as we are concerned, " the chiefanswered. "The Turks know not of these vaults, and if they did, wouldnot venture here to be at our mercy. It was through these vaults thatwe intended to enter and take the town by surprise. "

"But where does the other end lead to?" asked Harry. 

"Into our native desert, where its opening is concealed by a denseshrubbery, " replied Al-Zariel. "We have often found these caves veryuseful in our excursions against the Turks. But you and your friendsshall accompany us to our tents, where the Turks will be bold indeed toseek you. "

Harry thanked him for this generous offer. 

This arrangement having been made, the party quitted the caves by meansof a narrow path leading between two walls of high rock. 

Two of the chief's men, disguised as Turks, were left behind to enterthe town and keep an eye upon the condition of affairs there. 

The chief of course took command of the party. 

He seemed to make Thyra the especial object of his care. 

It was evidently a case of "love at first sight" towards her who hadbeen, with equal suddenness, smitten with Jack Harkaway. 

And both attachments were equally hopeless. 

In some parts the path was so narrow that it was with difficulty theycould squeeze through it. 

This rugged path proved particularly difficult to Mr. Mole, whose headwas, as usual, not entirely free from the fumes of alcohol, and whoseungovernable legs still insisted upon going all ways but the right one. 

But his Arab friends occasionally assisted his progress by prodding himin the back with their long spears, a species of incitement he couldwell have dispensed with, but which they insisted upon affording. 

The poor orphan, too, was, as usual, bowed down with weight of woe. 

"Oh, what a cold I am having, " he exclaimed, pathetically, feeling forhis pocket handkerchief. "It's tumbling into that fountain that did it. Oh, dear, what shall I do? It will be my death, I know it will. "

Such was the burden of his lament, which greatly amused the others, especially Bogey and Tinker. 

They were now on the edge of the desert some distance outside the wallsof the town. 

The Arab tents could be faintly descried in the distance. 

They had still some distance to walk in order to reach them. 

The road, however, was now plain and easy, consisting of the usual flatdesert sand. 

On nearing this encampment, they were challenged by a Bedouin sentinel, but the chief, stepping forward and explaining, the whole group were ofcourse readily admitted. 

The black and white camel-hair tents dotted the plain to a considerabledistance, and numerous horses and camels were picketed round. 

One of the principal Arabs having conferred with Kara-al-Zariel, hewent back to his English guests, saying--

"Christian friends, I will now show you what will cheer your heartseven more than the flesh of lambs, or odour of pure bread. Behold!"

And throwing back the curtains of the tent, he exposed Jack Harkaway, attired as a Turk, peacefully sleeping upon a rude couch. 

The astonishment and relief of mind experienced by our friends at thisdiscovery cannot be described. 

Their joy at finding Jack safe was equal to their wonder how he hadescaped. 

But what words will denote the ecstasy of Thyra?

With a cry of delight, she ran towards him, and kneeling beside hiscouch, poured forth thanksgivings to Heaven for his deliverance. 

This caused some jealousy to the noble chief, who now began to perceivehow passionately the "Pearl of the Isles, " as he called the beautifulGreek, was enamoured of the youthful Briton. 

"Stay, " he said, as Thyra passionately impressed her lips on the browof the sleeping youth. "Stay, or you will wake him. The Christiansleeps the slumber of the weary; disturb him not, and his waking willbe all the more joyous. "

"Thou sayest right, " answered Thyra. "If he is happy, sleeping orwaking, 'tis not for me to intrude upon his happiness. But I will sithere and watch his slumbers, that I may be the first to greet him whenhe wakes. "

"You mustn't do any thing of the kind, miss!" interposed the waiter. "Girls can't live upon love, though you seem inclined to try at it, andas we've got a nice supper awaiting us at that tent, Mr. Girdwoodinsists upon your coming to join us. "

With some difficulty Thyra was induced to assent, and again left theobject of her idolatry sleeping in blissful unconsciousness of herpresence. 

A short time, however, only elapsed before, either awakened by someoutward sound or disturbed by some dream, young Jack started up, muchconfused and puzzled to find himself in this strange place. 

Then he remembered the events of the day. 

"Halloa! what's that?"

Could he believe his eyes, or was it possible that, beyond the group ofBedouins sitting feasting around the camp fire, was another group, among which the figures of Harry Girdwood, of Mole, and of Thyra wereconspicuous?

It must be a dream. 

Jack leapt to his feet, fixed his eyes on the group, and now recognisedalso Mr. Figgins, the Will-o'-the-Wisp forms of Bogey and Tinkerflitting about and waiting on the others. 

Now convinced, Jack rushed out of his tent into the larger one. 

A perfect storm of welcome greeted him, and mutual surprise and delightwere exhibited by all. 

Thyra was beside herself with joy. 

"Oh, dear Jack, " said she, "I thought never to see you more. "

"How did you get away from the Turks?" asked Harry Girdwood and two orthree of the others in chorus. 

Jack told his story, and in turn listened to his companions'adventures, and there were mutual congratulations upon their escape. 

Never in all Jack's wanderings was there a happier occasion than thisreunion. 

CHAPTER LXXXVI. 

THE GREEK GIRL'S FOREBODING--A BATTLE WITH THE TURKS. 

Thyra slept little that night. 

This could not be because she was unwearied in frame, for the toils, anxieties, and dangers of the day had been sufficient to exhaust fargreater strength than hers. 

It was not that she had not much cause now for anxiety of mind. 

Jack was safe--that to her, was the first consideration, and all hisfriends, including herself, had been rescued by his cleverness from themore imminent perils that beset them. 

But her soul was in a state of great agitation; dark, melancholythoughts, which would not be chased away, continually oppressed it. 

This interfered with the blissful visions, the roseate castles in theair which she was so prone to build, and of which Jack Harkaway everformed the central figure. 

If she could win his love, and accompany him to England--a grand andmysterious region which she had all her life longed to see--Thyrathought the climax of happiness would be reached. 

But still she felt a terrible presentiment that, not only would thisnever be accomplished, but that some dread and imminent fate washanging over her. 

"To-morrow, " she murmured, "the hand of destiny will lie heavily uponme; there is a voice within that tells me so. "

And this melancholy condition continued throughout the hours ofdarkness. 

She looked out of her tent. 

All around her slept. 

Even the sentinel had fallen asleep beside the camp fire. 

The air was laden with the chill breath of night, but the stars werefading and the first gleams of dawn were breaking through the easternmists. At such a time the appearance of the vast desert was especiallygloomy and depressing. 

Thyra turned her gaze in the direction of the town. 

What cloud was that coming thence, and advancing along the plaintowards the camp?

The Greek girl strained her eyes to penetrate the mist; in this she wasassisted by the growing light of the morn. 

Presently the cloud shaped itself into recognisable distinctness. 

It was a mass of armed men. 

The Turks were marching on their track!

Thyra's terror for a moment kept her spellbound. 

This onset boded destruction to herself and all her friends; above all, to him she loved best. 

Involuntarily she uttered a cry of alarm, which at once aroused thewhole of the camp. 

The Arabs sprang to their feet, and seized their arms. 

In an instant all was commotion. 

Kara-al-Zariel heard that beloved voice, and in an instant was atThyra's side. 

"What has alarmed the Pearl of the Isles?" he asked, in the poeticphraseology of his race. 

Thyra stood with dishevelled hair, and dilated eyes fixed upon theapproaching army, at which she pointed with trembling fingers. 

"Look! look!" she exclaimed, "they are coming--the Turks are upon us!"

Kara-al-Zariel followed her gaze. 

He saw the cloud; he knew the danger. 

"To horse!" he thundered. "To arms! every son of the desert, and everyChristian guest!"

Instantly the horses were untethered, and the riders mounted; armed menassembled on foot, and every warrior appeared in readiness. 

Jack Harkaway and his friend Harry, by this time familiar as oldsoldiers with these sudden calls to arms, soon answered the summons;and the rest of their party, on hearing the danger, were not backwardin preparing for it. 

There were in the encampment a large number of fleet Arab steeds, morethan were actually required by the tribe, but the chief, like many ofhis race, dealt largely in horseflesh. 

This was particularly fortunate on the present occasion, for theirChristian allies could also be mounted, and if overwhelminglyoutnumbered by the enemy, could save themselves by flight. 

All the more experienced warriors were now sent to the front, to facethe first shock of the coming attack. 

Kara-al-Zariel led a beautiful steed to Thyra. 

"Mount, sweet maiden, " he said; "This steed is one of fleetest. Go, ride on towards the sea, for our enemies are coming fast upon us, andthis is no place for thee. "

Thyra mounted, but steadfastly refused to flight. 

"Thinkest thou, O chief, that I will fly from this danger?" she saidscornfully. "Never! I will escape with my best friends, or perish withthem. "

In vain the emir persuaded her to seek safety at once. 

"To perish or to fall again into the hands of the licentious Turks, " hesaid; "remember, rash girl, these two terrible fates menace thee. "

"If I am killed, " responded Thyra, "it is the will of Heaven; but ere Ibecome a captive to the Turks, the dagger shall end my life. "

Her resolution being evidently fixed, the Arab chief ceased topersuade, but resolved, throughout the coming fight, to do all he couldto shield her from danger. 

On came the enemy's forces. 

The light was now sufficient for it to be perceived that they consistedof a large and well-armed body of Turkish cavalry. 

They were led, as before, by the captain of the guard, and thetruculent vizier Abdullah. 

If was through the latter's acuteness that the vaults beneath thecastle had been discovered, and conjecturing that the fugitives hadescaped thus, he had traced them into the desert. 

He, therefore, organized an expedition to set out and surprise them inthe camp. 

Abdullah's plans were deeply laid. 

He wished to capture the Greek girl, that he might curry favour withthe Pasha Ibrahim by presenting her to him. 

He was resolved to secure and punish Harkaway and the other Christians, to turn away every public suspicion from himself and Ibrahim, as to thelate pasha's assassination. 

After that, it is exceedingly probable that the unscrupulousinterpreter meant in some way to destroy Ibrahim, and set up as pashahimself. 

These subtle treacheries are common under the corruptions of Orientalrule. 

The vizier intended to take the Arabs by surprise, and he would havesucceeded in this, had it not been for Thyra. 

Instead, therefore, of finding a sleeping encampment, he found thewhole tribe up in arms, and ready to receive him. 

Other tactics were therefore necessary, but Abdullah believed that hisown superiority in numbers would ensure victory. 

As the Turkish regiment approached, they spread themselves out, theirobject being to surround the force opposed to them. 

On came the Turks. 

Their sabres flashing and clashing. 

The steeds neighing. 

The sands of the desert rising up in clouds beneath their thunderingtread. 

Arrived within a short distance, the two armies halted and surveyedeach other. 

Then a trumpet sounded to parley, and a messenger rode forward tocommunicate with the Arab chief. 

"To the Emir Kara-al Zariel, " said the soldier, "thus saith the greatLord Ibrahim, pasha of Alla-hissar. Whereas, though thou hast beenoften a rebel against his highness's lawful authority, yet will hepardon thee all past misdeeds on condition that thou shalt give up theFrankish men and the Greek woman, who are accused of the secret murderof his late highness, Moley Pasha. Refuse this, and no mercy will beshown to thee or to thy tribe. 

"Tell thy ruler or his officers, " thus replied Kara-al Zariel, "that Irefuse his proffered pardon; that Ibrahim is an assassin and usurper Idespise and defy; that I will never deliver up to his hands those whohave sought my hospitality, and that I and my tribe, and my guests, will resist him and his, to the death. "

This rebuff was sufficiently conclusive. 

There was nothing now but to commence the fight. 

Shots came forth from the midst of the mass of Turkish horsemen, andwere promptly answered from the muskets of the Arabs. 

The battle cry of the Bedouins rang out clear in the morning air. 

The first rays of the sun now lit up the plain, piercing the clouds ofmist and desert-dust, and gleaming upon the rapidly-moving blades andbarrels. 

Now shone out the white _naiks_ of the Arabs and the red caps of theTurks. 

The Ottoman cavalry pressed with terrible force upon the Bedouins, whose old-fashioned long guns were inadequate to compete with themodern European rifles of their foe. 

But on each side, the bullets tore through the ranks and laid low manya gallant warrior. 

The fray soon became a fierce and close one. 

A fight, hand to hand, muzzle to muzzle, and sword to sword. 

One slight advantage was on the side of the Arabs. 

They and their horses were quite fresh, while the Turks and theirchargers were wearied with a long and difficult march. 

Our friends did not forget they were Englishmen, and upheld the honourof their country in the personal bravery they showed upon thisoccasion. 

Jack Harkaway and Harry Girdwood hewed their way right and left amongthe Turkish horsemen. 

They were like mowers among the corn, their sickles sharp, and theirharvest heavy. 

Soon shone the morning sun brightly upon this scene of strife. 

The Turks, from their numbers, could relieve their comrades when theybecame tired. 

The Arabs had no such advantage. 

They began to thin terribly. 

But still they fought on with unabated vigour, and succeeded inpreventing the enemy surrounding their encampment, and enclosing themin. 

Kara-al-Zariel was ever in the thickest and most perilous part of thecontest, encouraging his men with his presence. 

He performed prodigies of valour, and his long hiltless Arab sabre wasstained deeply with the blood of his foes. 

The diver and the waiter both showed themselves skilful and valorous infighting, and if Mole and Figgins failed to distinguish themselves somuch, and preferred the more modest and retiring rearguard of the army, we must consider the weak nerves of one and the wooden legs of theother. 

Bogey and Tinker were in their element, and their African blood spurredthem on to deeds of bravery sometimes even approaching barbarity. 

Thyra, stationed on horseback in the rear, had in her a spirit ofheroism, which of her own will, would have led her to the very front ofthe battle. 

But the entreaties of the chief and of Jack induced her to restrain hervalour, and remain in a position of comparative safety from which shecould see all that went on, and discharge a pistol when she saw achance of bringing down a foe. 

But by degrees the Arabs ranks were broken. 

Their numbers where fearfully diminished, and no efforts of theirsseemed to make any perceptible diminution of that of the enemy. 

So the chief resolved upon a retreat. 

But ere this could be effected, the Turks succeeded in placing a largecontingent in a position to intercept them. 

"We must cut through them, or we are lost, " exclaimed the chief. 

The war-cry of the Arabs was again raised. 

They dashed at a portion of the living ring that surrounded them. 

They cut their way through the circling mass of steel. 

CHAPTER LXXXVII. 

STILL THE BATTLE RAGES. 

At that moment Kara-al-Zariel's horse received a mortal wound, and sankbeneath the chief. 

He fell heavily, and narrowly escaped being trampled to death by hisown advancing men. 

But procuring another steed, he again led the van. 

Jack Harkaway had already had two horses killed under him. 

He was disfigured by blood and smoke, and dizzy with weariness andexcitement, but he still fought like a lion, for it was for life. 

The task of breaking through the Turkish ranks was a terrible one. 

Many Arabs fell dead in the desperate attempt. 

As fast as the gaps were made in the ranks of the enemy, they werefilled up by fresh men. 

The horses trampled upon the weary limbs of the wounded. 

Into this wild _mêlée_ Jack plunged, closely followed by his friendHarry. 

Our hero struck down a gigantic Turk, fired a revolver into the face ofanother, and gave a cut right and left with his sword. 

Taking advantage of the passage thus made, the other Englishmen rapidlyfollowed their leader. 

Thyra was led by the waiter and the diver, while Mole and Figginsmutually assisted each other. 

It was amid shots falling like hail in every direction, and menaced bykilling blows from heavy sabres that the retreat was made. 

Thyra performed another act of heroism at this juncture. 

A Turkish sergeant, on foot, fired straight at her as she passed. 

By the width of scarce an inch, the bullet missed piercing her brain, but she answered it by a shot which sought and found the heart of theTurk, and he fell dead instantaneously. 

In this way all the Englishmen got through the ranks of the foe andjoined the chief. 

The rest of the Arabs followed, but they had a hard task to do so, forthe enemy now overwhelmingly outnumbered their reduced force. 

But our friends were not to escape even thus easily. 

The Turks made fresh and vigorous efforts, not only to prevent theirretreat, but to effect their capture. 

Seeing the peril they were in, Jack called to Thyra and said--

"My good girl, you have acted with heroic bravery, but our danger isnow greater than ever, and you must quit this scene. "

"Never, dear Jack, whilst you are imperilled, " she firmly replied. 

"But you can aid me more that way than by staying, " he said. "Listen, yonder is the sea, not more than two miles off. There is an Englishship in the bay; its gallant sailors will not fail to assist theircountrymen in distress. Go to them at once, your steed is swiftest ofall. Ride, ride for your life, dear girl. "

Thyra needed no further urging. 

"I will bring assistance to you, " she cried, "or perish in theattempt. "

She turned her steed, and was off in a minute at lightning speed. 

On came the Turks, now headed by Abdullah, for his comrade, the captainof the guard, had been desperately wounded. 

"We must capture them!" he cried to his men. "Forward, men; death orvictory. "

Jack and his men saw that resistance was useless against sooverwhelming a force. 

Flight was the only chance remaining to them. 

Yet they could not give in without some attempt to punish their enemy. 

Jack levelled his pistol at the vizier's head, but by a dexterousmovement he avoided the shot. 

"Yield, Christian dogs!" he thundered. "Yield to might and right, foryour capture or death is inevitable. "

"You do not know us Boys of England, " cried Jack. "We may be takendead, but while a breath of life remains, we will never surrender toblack-hearted Turks. "

The vizier answered by ordering his men to surround the Christians, which they did their best to accomplish. 

But by an agile movement, Jack and his friends suddenly turned andgalloped off. 

It was not in the direction of the sea, for retreat was at present cutoff that way, but across the desert that they fled. 

"Forward!" cried Abdullah. "They must not escape us. "

For a considerable time this chase continued, till the English, by"doubling" again, changed the direction of their flight, and madetowards the sea. 

Hope arose within their hearts, for they saw a considerable number ofwell-armed English sailors, led by Thyra, coming towards them. 

A few minutes' galloping joined them with these welcome allies, andthis reinforcement enabled Jack again to defy the Turks. 

The latter drew rein, and stood for awhile in hesitation. 

This unexpected turn of affairs evidently disconcerted them. 

But ere their horses could be put in motion again, Jack and his partywere upon them, backed by their new allies. 

The impetuosity of their charge was for a moment irresistible. 

They bore down all the Turks before them. 

The Turkish troopers recoiled as from the flight of a rocket. 

Jack rode on like a hero of old. 

His hair streamed in the wind as he darted through the air on his nobleArab steed. 

His eyes flashed fire, and struck awe into each foe that approachedhim. 

But he soon found himself surrounded by his enemies. Abdullah, who wasat their head, cast himself upon Jack. Their horses were driven ontheir haunches by the force of the shock. 

Half a dozen sabres at once circled round Jack's head. 

Abdullah made a lunge at him with his sword, which would have provedthe death of Jack had not Harry Girdwood at that instant caught thethrust upon his arm. 

Poor Harry! His devotion to his friend had cost him dear. 

He reeled, and would have fallen from his saddle, probably trampled todeath, had not Bogey, at the risk of his own life, caught him and ledhis horse apart from the thick of the battle. 

Burning to avenge his friend, Jack struck with all his force atAbdullah's head. 

The interpreter received the blow upon his sword, which, proving thestronger of the two, Jack's weapon snapped in the clash, and he wasleft weaponless. 

He seemed, indeed, at the mercy of his pitiless foe. 

Abdullah smiled a cruel smile as he again raised his sabre. 

But that smile was his last. 

A lance-head gleamed past Jack, and transfixed Abdullah through thechest, so that he was borne down among the trampling hoofs of thehorses. 

"Yah, yah; dat's one to me, Massa Jack, " exclaimed Tinker, for he itwas who had thus saved Jack's life. 

Jack caught up Abdullah's sword, and, by a desperate charge, cutthrough the opposing Turks, now "demoralised" by the loss of theirleader, and regained his Bedouin and English friends. 

By this time the heat was very great. 

The sky was like a dome of steel. 

The sands of the desert burnt under the fierce sun. 

The dust flew in clouds, save where the blood of the wounded and dyinghad soaked into the arid soil. 

Taking advantage of the confusion that now reigned in the Turkishforce, the English and Arabs made a last desperate effort to escapetheir foes. 

With a yell of defiance, the fierce Bedouins, led by Kara-al-Zariel, dashed through the ranks of the enemy, dealing destruction right andleft. 

Taking advantage of the disconcerted state of the foe, Jack and hisfriends were enabled again to join their Arab allies, and the retreatof the whole party towards the shore began in good earnest. 

They would soon have distanced their now exhausted foes, but ere theEnglish vessel could be reached, another large body of Turks came up tothe attack. 

This force was led by no less a personage than the Pasha Ibrahimhimself, whose fierce grey eyes glared beneath his shaggy brows atthose who had slain his vizier. 

Beside him rode the officer in command of his squadron, and anotheryoung man, in whom, although dressed in red _fez_ and Turkishuniform, Jack recognised Herbert Murray. 

He was attended by his servant Chivey, also dressed as a Turk. 

They were all splendidly mounted; their horses fresh, and their troopswell-disciplined. 

As the two parties approached, the pasha's eyes were fixed upon Thyra. 

"It is the Pearl of the Isles, " he exclaimed, "who was stolen by theseinfidels from the harem. She shall yet be mine. One thousand piastresto the man who will capture her. "

A dozen of his men instantly started in pursuit of Thyra, who was alittle in advance of her companions. 

Her beautiful Arab steed seemed to have taken a sudden fright, for itstarted off at lightning speed, independent of Thyra's attempts to turnhim, for she wished to die or escape by the side of her companions. 

Separated from them, and pursued by a dozen well-armed men, herposition was indeed perilous. 

The speed of her horse seemed her only chance. 

But the noble creature had been very hard worked that day, and afterthe first "spurt, " showed signs of exhaustion. 

The Turks, upon their fresh and fleet steeds, began to gain upon herevery minute. 

At length she was at bay, resolved to die defending herself and defyingher enemies. 

She placed her lance in rest as the foremost Turk came up. 

Despite his efforts to avoid the weapon, she thrust it through hisshoulder. 

He fell, desperately, if not mortally wounded, and full of rage atbeing defeated by a woman. 

His nearest companion now faced the beautiful amazon, who rapidly drewher revolver--the one Jack had given her--and fired. 

The ball took effect, for the Turk reeled in his saddle and fell to theground, dead. 

The others now approached. 

But Thyra discharged one, two, three shots from her revolver, and thelast killed the officer's horse, which staggered and fell, bringing therider to the ground. 

Thyra urged her steed again towards the sea. 

Herbert Murray and Chivey now pressed forward, resolved to try and gainthe pasha's reward and the glory of achieving her capture. 

Away went Thyra on her gallant steed. 

She was near the sea now. 

The murmur of its waves upon the sands resounded in her ears. 

The British cruiser was seen about a mile away in the offing, and onthe shore stood about half a dozen sailors, taking charge of the boatsin which the armed force had come ashore. 

They were anxiously watching for their companions to return, and onperceiving Thyra's peril, two of them went to her assistance. 

And they arrived not a moment too soon. 

Herbert Murray had ridden up to her. 

Grasping the bridle of her steed, he thought he had effected hercapture. 

But at this moment a voice beside him cried out in English--

"Hands off there, you lubber!"

This showed that Thyra's call for help had been heard and responded to. 

Murray turned, and saw the two stalwart British tars standing besideThyra. 

"Look here, " continued the sailor, "if you don't leave this here younglady alone, and be off instanter, we'll take you aboard and let ourcaptain deal with you. "

Herbert Murray looked around, and seeing that the sailors were in aposition to carry out their threat, angrily relinquished the chase, andturning his horse, rode off with Chivey, who had not approached quiteso near. 

CHAPTER LXXXVIII. 

END OF THE CONTEST--DEATH OF THYRA. 

Thyra was securely protected by these gallant tars until the rest ofthe party came up, which was not long, for after a slight skirmish, Jack and his friends managed to cut through the new force of opposingTurks, and make their way towards the ship. 

Ibrahim Pasha, enraged at being thus defied, still pressed on, followedby all his force, but they only arrived at the shore in time to seeJack and the others embarking in the boats. 

He now had recourse to threats. 

"In the name of His Imperial Majesty the Sultan, " he said to theofficer in command, "I command you to give up to me these Englishmen, who have escaped from justice. "

"They are British subjects, " returned the officer, "who have sought theprotection of their flag. "

"Shall British subjects commit crime and yet go free?" inquiredIbrahim. 

"What crime have they committed?" asked the officer. 

"Murder--the assassination of his highness, Moley Pasha. "

"What evidence have you to show to connect them with his death?" askedthe officer. "If you have but sufficient evidence, they shall be triedbefore a proper tribunal. Where the English flag floats, justice shallbe done to all. "

The pasha bit his lip. 

He knew that his evidence against these Englishmen was very slight, being in fact only the assertion of Murray and Chivey, and that anymistake on his part would bring on political trouble that might be hisruin, so he began to draw in. 

"At least, " he said, "you can not refuse to give me back my ownproperty, stolen from my palace. "

"That's a reasonable request enough, " answered the lieutenant. "Pointout your property, and you shall have it. "

"There it is, " exclaimed Ibrahim, as he pointed to Thyra. 

"That your property, eh?" said the astonished officer. "Well, a verynice property too. But how was she stolen?"

"Stolen from my harem by that son of Eblis!" cried the old pasha, pointing to Jack. 

"Ah, young man, I see how it is, " said the officer, gravely shaking hishead; "you've been going it rather too fast, and brought on thistrouble all on account of this Greek girl. "

"It's a lie, " cried Jack, looking fiercely at the pasha; "she never wasstolen, and never did belong to that old coffee-coloured villain, andwhat's more, never shall, if Britons can protect her. She fled of herown accord from the palace of Moley Pasha, before he arrived, andsought protection from me and my friends in the town. "

"In that case, " said the officer, "we cannot give her up, for theBritish government does not recognise slavery, domestic or otherwise. Under our flag she is free. "

A cheer of defiance from the group of English sailors greeted thisspeech. 

"By the soul of the prophet, " fiercely exclaimed the pasha, "am I to bedefied by a boy, and an infidel--a son of Sheitan, to boot?"

"Boy as I am, I defy you, " retorted Jack. 

This was a bold, but foolish and incautious speech, destined to bedisastrous. 

The pasha, goaded to madness by Jack's words and defiant manner, drewhis pistol and discharged it pointblank at our hero. 

The action was a rapid one--so rapid as to take Jack unawares, but notso rapid as the love-quickened perceptions of Thyra. 

She saw the pasha's movement, and throwing herself forward, seized Jackjust in time to draw him aside. 

By so doing, she saved his life, but at the expense of her own. 

The bullet lodged in her breast, and with a cry she fell wounded intoJack's arms. 

The disaster had come so quickly that our hero scarcely comprehendedwhat had happened. 

The pasha frowned darkly when he saw Thyra fall. 

Some remorse was awakened, even in his iron heart. 

He had intended to take a life, but not hers, and now indeed the Pearlof the Isles was lost to him for evermore. 

"'Tis you now, pasha, who have committed crime, " said the lieutenant, "and for this I call you to account. Surrender to answer for thisdeed. "

"Surrender to Christian dogs! Never, " answered the fierce Ibrahim. 

"Then, men, fire upon these Turks, " said the officer. 

The rifles of the sailors were accordingly brought to cover upon thepasha's force. 

Ibrahim immediately recognised a fresh and imminent danger, andresolved on a retreat. 

Turning his horse, he gave the signal to his followers, and the wholebody marched off rapidly, pursued by the fire of the English. 

During this parley, Kara-al-Zariel and his Arabs had taken advantage ofthe preoccupation of their foes, to withdraw to the range of ruggedrocks near the shore, which would at once shelter them from the attacksof the Turks and give them the advantage of being near their Englishallies in the ship. 

But the pasha, now that the main objects of his expedition had escapedhim, did not make any further attempts to pursue the Bedouins. 

He and the remnant of his forces made the best of their way across thedesert to the town. 

And now all attention was drawn towards Thyra. 

All perceived, with the deepest regret, that her hours were numbered. 

She had been that day in the thick of more than one deadly conflict. 

Hundreds of bullets had passed her, but this one, aimed at another, hadonly too successfully performed an errand of death. 

Terrible indeed was the grief of Jack Harkaway. 

"Oh, Thyra, " he exclaimed, "my brave, dear girl, he has killed you. "

"I know it, " she replied, with a mournful resignation, "but thankHeaven you, dear Jack, are saved. "

"I have not deserved this devotion from you, " said Jack, in brokenaccents, while the tears fell from his eyes, "but you must not--shallnot die thus. Can nothing be done for her?" he asked, looking round atthe others. 

"I fear not, " replied the lieutenant, "but she must at once be taken onboard, and placed under the care of the surgeon. "

Thyra had been lifted up and her wound staunched with her scarf. 

"Here, Harry, " said our hero, rousing himself from his grief, "help meto carry her to the boat. "

But ere his friend could fulfil his request, a tall, wild forminterposed between them, a brown, sinewy hand convulsively clutchedJack's arm to draw him away. 

"No hand but mine, " cried a voice broken by intense grief, "shall bearthe Pearl of the Isles to yonder boat. "

It was the Arab chief, Al-Zariel, his face haggard with grief, his darkeyes gazing mournfully at the pale but beautiful face of her he loved. 

He raised her tenderly, this wild warrior of the desert--tenderly as achild, and disdained all aid, and bore her in his strong arms to theboat. 

The others drew back; no one at that moment had the heart to say himnay. 

Even the rough sailors, and the still rougher Arabs, were touched bythe mournful scene before them. 

It was indeed a solemn procession to the boats, almost a funeral_cortége_, for they bore one, who, though not yet dead, would neversee another day's sun arise. 

Kara-al-Zariel gently deposited the dying girl in the boat. 

"I have known her but a day, " murmured the Arab chief, "and during thatday she has shone upon my path like a gleam of sunshine from the gatesof Paradise. From the first instant I saw her I loved her as I haveloved no other, and as I shall love no other to my life's end. "

He stooped and imprinted a passionate kiss upon that marble brow, pressing as he did so the lifeless hand, gazing into the fast-fixingeyes, and murmuring "Farewell" in his native tongue. 

She understood him, and with a smile of gratitude, answered him in thesame language. 

The boat put off. 

Kara-al-Zariel, standing on the sands, watched it for some moments, andthen, as if unable longer to bear the sight, turned away, knelt uponthe beach, and covered his eyes with his hands. 

It was not grief alone that made him kneel beneath the open vault ofHeaven. 

In that terrible moment he registered to Heaven a vow of vengeanceagainst the pasha who had slain the Pearl of the Isles. 

The sturdy tars bent to their oars, and the boat left the murmuringwaters of the sunlit Mediterranean. 

Arriving on the ship, Thyra was placed with all care and tendernessupon deck. 

The doctor examined the wound, and shook his head gravely. 

"I can do nothing here!" he said, in subdued tones. 

None answered him; only they saw too plainly that his words were final. 

Poor Jack Harkaway! If ever in his young life he had felt grief, it wasnow, when he saw one who had so hopelessly loved him, dying throughthat very love. 

"I am not afraid to die, " said Thyra, in her low, faint voice, "and todie in this way is the best of all; for my future life might have madeboth you and myself unhappy. "

"Unhappy! How could that be, Thyra?" asked Jack, as he knelt besideher, his hand clasped in hers, her dying eyes looking upwards into hisface. 

"Because your love is given to another, " she sighed, "and, therefore, mine is hopeless; but oh, may that other--whoever she may be--be nowand ever happy in your love. "

"You have died for my sake!" he said, "and can you think I can feel anything but the deepest gratitude, the most tender feelings, towards you?No, dear Thyra, I love you now, if I have not before. "

"To hear that from your lips, " she murmured, "is to die happy. All Iask now, is that you will always remember the little Greek girl wholoved you, and--and who was unhappy in her life, and happy in herdeath. "

"Remember you!" said Jack, "remember you, my noble Thyra! after whatyou have done? Always! always! Do not pain me by fearing that I mayforget you. "

"Then I am happy still; listen. Here are a chain and a cross of gold;keep them in remembrance of me, and when I am dead, have me conveyed, if it is possible, to the land of my birth, the beautiful island ofNaxos, where my parents still live. Bury me there. "

Jack promised this, and the old captain of the ship declared that hewould have her last request fulfilled. 

Thyra's strength was now almost exhausted, but, with a last effort, sheraised herself from Jack's supporting arms, and addressed those aroundher. 

"Friends, " she said, "I give you many, many thanks for what you havedone for me, in protecting me and aiding my escape. I can but give youthanks and my farewell. Farewell!" she added, "to the bright blue sky, the golden sea, and the beautiful green island where I was born andwhere I hope to rest when I am no more. "

Here her voice died into a murmur, and the rest was inaudible to allbut Jack. 

Jack stooped as the Arab chief had done, and impressed a fervent kissupon the fair young face, still bent lovingly towards him. At thatmoment he felt an electric thrill convulse her frame, followed by acomplete stillness. In that last fond embrace her spirit had fled. 

Thyra's troubles were over. 

Two days afterwards the ship, whose captain had undertaken to conveyJack and his friends from those turbulent shores, touched at the Greekisland of Naxos. There Thyra's parents were found, and the sad news oftheir child's death communicated to them. 

She was buried in the little cemetery close to the shore, and amidgroves of cypress and gardens of flowers, where sweet birds sing andsea breezes softly murmur, lies the beautiful Greek girl who loved anddied for young Jack Harkaway. 

And all hearts were heavy with grief when, after the funeral, theyhoisted sail, and steered in a westerly direction. 

CHAPTER LXXXIX. 

MARSEILLES--MR. MOLE AS A LINGUIST--AN UGLY CUSTOMER AND HIS ENGLISHCONFEDERATE--A COMPACT OF MYSTERY--MR. MARKBY PLAYS A VERY DEEPGAME--THE SHADOW OF DANGER. 

Our friends had been some days at sea. 

The weather was fair, and their progress was for a time slow. 

At length one day there was a cry--

"Land ho!"

"Which?" said our hero, who was anxious for any thing that would makehim forget his great sorrow for Thyra. 

"I remarked 'Land ho!' Jack, " said Mr. Mole, for he it was who firstdetected it. 

"And I observed 'Which?' sir, " said Jack. 

"And why that unmeaning interrogation?" demanded Mr. Mole. 

"Your speech is an anomaly, Mr. Mole, " responded Jack, mimicking thevoice of his tutor in his happiest manner. 

"Why so?"

"You say my question is unmeaning, and yet you ask an explanation ofit. If there is no meaning in it, how can I explain it?"

"Ahem!" coughed Mr. Mole. "No matter. You are too much given to uselessarguments, Jack. I believe you would argue with the doctor attendingyou on your deathbed--yea, with the undertaker himself who had to buryyou. "

"That's piling it on, sir, " said Jack, in a half-reflective mood. "Idare say I should have a shy at the doctor if he tried to provesomething too idiotic, but we must draw the line at the doctor. Icouldn't argue with the undertaker at my own funeral, but I'll tell youwhat, Mr. Mole, no doubt I shall argue with him if he puts it on toostiff in his bill when we put you away. "

"Jack!" exclaimed Mr. Mole, inexpressibly shocked. 

"A plain deal coffin, " pursued Jack, apparently lost in deepcalculation; "an economical coffin, only half the length of an ordinarycoffin, because you could unscrew your legs, and leave them tosomeone. "

"That is very unfeeling to talk of my funeral, dreadful!"

"You are only joking there, I know, sir, " returned Jack, "because youwere talking of mine. "

"Ahem!" said Mole, "do you see how near we are to land?"

"Quite so, quite so. "

"Go and ask the captain the name of this port. "

It proved to be Marseilles, and the captain knew it, as he had beensailing for it, and, moreover, they were very quickly ashore. 

Mr. Mole was especially eager to air his French. 

"You speak the language?" asked Jack. 

Mr. Mole smiled superciliously at the question. 

"Like a native, my dear boy, like a native, " he replied. 

"That's a good thing, " said Jack, tipping the wink to Harry Girdwood;"for you can interpret all round. "

 * * * *

France was then going through one of its periodical upsets, and a gooddeal of unnecessary bother was made along the coast upon the landing ofpassengers. 

Passports were partly dispensed with, but questions were put by fierceofficials as to your name and nationality, which all led up to nothing, for they accepted your reply implicitly as truth, and while itinconvenienced the general public, the Royalist, Republican, Orleanist, or whoever might chance to be of the revolutionary party for the timebeing, could chuckle as he told his fibs and passed on to the forbiddenland. 

M. Le Commissaire confronted Mr. Mole, and barred his passage tointerrogate him. 

"_Pardon, m'sieur, veuillez bien me dire votre nom?_"

"What's that?" said Mole. 

"_Votre nom, s'il vous plait_, " repeated the commissaire. 

"Really, I haven't the pleasure of your acquaintance. "

"_Sapristi!_" ejaculated the commissaire, to one of his subordinates. "_Quel type!_"

"Now, Mr. Mole, " said Jack, who was close behind the old gentleman, "why don't you speak up?"

"I don't quite follow him. "

"He's only asking a question, you know. You polly-voo like a native. "

"Yes; precisely, Jack. But I don't follow his accent. He's somepeasant, I suppose. "

"_Votre nom!_" demanded the official, rather fiercely this time. 

"Now, then, Mr. Mole, " cried a voice in the rear, "you're stoppingeveryone. Get it out and move on. "

"Dear, dear me!" said Mole. "What does it mean?"

"He's asking your name, " said Jack, "and you can't understand it. "

"Oh!"

"I'll tell him for you, as you don't seem to know a word, " said Jack. "_Il s'appelle Ikey Mole_, " he added to the commissaire. 

"_Aîké Moll_, " repeated the commissaire. "_Il est Arabe?_"

"_Oui, monsieur. C'est un des lieutenants du grand Abd-el-Kader. _"

"_Vraiment!_" exclaimed the commissaire, in a tone of mingled surpriseand respect. "_Passez, M'sieur Aîké Moll. _"[2]

 [2] "He calls himself Ikey Mole, " says Jack to the _commissaire de police_. 

 "_Aîké Moll!_" repeats the commissaire, pronouncing the incongruous sounds as nearly as he can. "Why, he must be an Arab. "

 To which Jack, with all his ready impudence, replies--

 "Yes, sir, he is an Arab. He was one of Abd-el-Kader's lieutenants. "

 We need scarcely remind our readers that Abd-el-Kader was the doughty Arab chief who made so heroic a resistance to the French in Algiers. 

 This satisfied the commissaire, who respectfully bade Mole pass on. 

They went on, and Mole anxiously questioned Jack. 

"I'm getting quite deaf, " said he, by way of a pretext for not havingunderstood the conversation. "Whatever were you saying?"

"I told him your name was Isaac Mole, sir, " returned Jack. 

"You said Ikey Mole, sir, " retorted Mole, "and that is a very greatliberty, sir. "

"Not at all. Iké is the French for Isaac, " responded the unblushingJack. 

"But what was all that they were saying about Arab?"

"Arab!" repeated Jack, in seeming astonishment. 

"Yes. "

"Didn't hear it myself. "

"I certainly thought I caught the word Arab, " said Mr. Mole, givingJack a very suspicious glance. 

"You never made a greater mistake, sir, in your life. "

"How very odd. "

"Very. "

 * * * *

The Cannebière is the chief promenade in Marseilles, and theinhabitants of this important seaport are not a little proud of it. 

Two men sat smoking cigarettes and sipping lazily at their _grog auvin_ at the door of one of then numerous cafés in the Cannebière. 

To these two men we invite the reader's attention. 

One was a swarthy-looking Frenchman from the south, a man of a decentexterior, but with a fierce and restless glance. 

He was the sort of man whom you would sooner have as a friend than asan enemy. 

A steadfast friend--an implacable foe!

That was what you read in his peculiar physiognomy, in that odd mixtureof defiance and fearlessness, those anxious glances, frankness anddeceit, the varied expressions of which passed in rapid successionacross his countenance. 

This man called himself Pierre Lenoir, although he was known in otherports by other names. 

Pierre Lenoir was a sort of Jack of all trades. 

He had been apprenticed to an engraver, and had shown remarkableaptitude for that profession, but, being of a roving and restlessdisposition, he ran away from his employer to ship on board a merchantvessel. 

After a cruise or two he was wrecked, and narrowly escaped with hislife. 

Tired of the sea, for awhile he obtained employment with a medallist, where his skill as an engraver stood him in good stead. 

From this occupation he fled as soon as his ready adaptability had madehim a useful hand to his new master, and took to a roving life again. What he was now doing in Marseilles no one could positively assert. 

How it was that Pierre Lenoir had such an abundant supply of readymoney, the progress of our narrative will show--for with it areconnected several of not the least exciting episodes in the career ofyoung Jack Harkaway. 

So much for Pierre Lenoir. 

Now for his companion at the café. 

He was called Markby, and, as his name indicates, he was an Englishman. 

Being but a poor French scholar, he had scraped up an acquaintance withPierre Lenoir, chiefly on account of the latter's proficiency in theEnglish language. 

There is little to be said concerning Markby's past history, forreasons which will presently be apparent. 

What further reason he may have had for cultivating the friendship ofthe rover, Pierre Lenoir, will probably show itself in due course. 

 * * * *

"I have disposed of that last batch of five-franc pieces, " said Markby. "Here are the proceeds. "

"Keep it back, " exclaimed Lenoir hurriedly. 

"What for?"

"It is sheer madness for us to be seen conversing together, " repliedLenoir, casting an anxious glance about him from behind his hat, whichhe held in his hand so as to shield his features, "much less to be seenexchanging money--why, it is suicidal--nothing less. "

"Is there any danger, do you think?"

"Do I think? Do I know? Why, this place is literally alive withspies--_mouchards_ as we called them here. Every second man you meetis a _mouchard_. "

"Do you mean it?"

"Rather. "

"That's not a pleasant thing to know, " said Markby. 

"I don't agree with you there, " replied Lenoir. "'Forewarned, forearmed, ' is a proverb in your language. But now tell me about thisfriend and countryman of yours. "

"He's no friend of mine, " returned Markby. "I know him as a greattraveller, and one who has opportunities of placing more false----"

"Hush, imprudent!" interrupted Lenoir. "Call it stock. You know not howmany French spies may be passing, or how near we may be to danger. "

Markby took the hint given him, and continued--

"Well, stock. He can place more--he has probably placed more than anyman alive. He travels about _en grand seigneur_--lords it in high placesand disposes of the counterf----"

"Stock. "

"Stock, in regular loads. But he's as wary as a fox--nothing canapproach him in cunning. "

"The very man I want, " exclaimed Lenoir. "This fellow could, with myaid, make a fortune for himself and me in less than a year--a largefortune. "

"You are very sanguine, " said Markby, with a smile. 

"I am, but not over sanguine. I speak by the book, for I know well whatI am talking of. You must introduce me. "

"You are running on wildly, " said Markby. "Did I not tell you that hedid not know me--that he would not know me if he did? So careful is hethat his own brother would fail to draw any thing from him concerningthe way in which he gets his living. "

"_Dame!_" muttered Lenoir, "he seems a precious difficult fellow toapproach. "

"Yes, on that subject, " responded Markby; "but he's genial andagreeable enough if you introduce yourself by accident, as it were, andchat upon social topics generally, without the vaguest reference to thesubject nearest your heart. "

"How shall I ever lead him up to the point?"

"Easily. For instance, talk about art matters. Allude to your galleryof sculpture. Ask him, is he fond of bas reliefs? Tell him of yourskill as a medallist. "

"Medallist might put him on the scent, if he is so dreadfully wary, "said Lenoir. 

"No fear. He would never dream of such a thing. Medalling being a sortof sister art to what most interests him, he would be sure to bite atthe chance. You lead him to your little underground snuggery, and oncethere all need for his wonderful caution will be at an end. "

"I see, " said Lenoir, rubbing his hands. "But stay"--and here his facegrew a bit serious--"this fellow is faithful?"

"True as steel, " responded Markby. 

"That's right, " said Lenoir, with a look that caused a twinge ofuneasiness to be felt by his companion, "for woe betide the man thatplays me false. "

"No fear of this man--man, I call him, but he is in appearance at leastlittle more than a lad, although he was travelled all over the world. "

Here Markby arose to move away. 

"Stop a bit, " said Lenoir. "I have forgotten to ask rather an importantdetail. "

"What is it?"

"The name of this fellow?"

"Jack Harkaway, " was the reply. 

CHAPTER XC. 

MARKBY'S MISSIVE--ON THE WATCH!--"SMART FELLOW, MARKBY!"--MARKBY'SMYRMIDON--THE SPY'S MISSION. 

The Englishman Markby was gone before Pierre Lenoir could question himfurther. 

"Jack Harkaway?" exclaimed Lenoir; "I have heard that name before. Ofcourse; I remember now. But Markby speaks of him as a lad. Why, theHarkaway that I remember must be a middle-aged man by now; besides, what little I knew of Harkaway then would not show him to be a likelyman for my purpose. "

Not long after this, as Lenoir was upon the point of rising and leavingthe café, a commissionaire or public messenger came up at a run with anote in his hand. 

"M'sieu Lenoir. "

"_C'est moi. _"

He took the note and found it to contain the following words, scribbledboldly by Markby--

 "They are now coming along in your direction. You will easily recognise them--two youths in sailor dress. Follow them, and if they stay at any of the cafés, I leave you to scrape up an acquaintance with them. --M. "

"Markby has been upon the _qui vive_, " said Lenoir to himself. "Smartfellow, Markby!"

Glancing to the left, he saw the two young sailors approaching: soPierre Lenoir made up his mind at once. 

He stepped into the house, intending to let them pass and then followthem, and, if by chance they should, on their way, stop at either ofthe cafés, he could drop in and seek the opportunity he so muchdesired. 

But while he was waiting the young sailors came up, and, instead ofpassing the café they dropped into chairs at the door and called forrefreshments. 

This was more than Lenoir had bargained for. 

However, it was no use wasting time. 

He desired to profit by the opportunity, and so out he came and sat atthe next table to the two young Englishmen. 

 * * * *

"What's your opinion of Marseilles, Jack?"

"Nothing great. "

"Ditto. "

"Nothing to see once you're out of sight of the sea, and the nativesare not very interesting. They only appear to be full of conceit abouttheir town without the least reason for it. I should like to know ifthere is really any thing in Marseilles to warrant the faintest beliefin the place. "

This was Pierre Lenoir's opportunity. 

He stepped forward. 

"Excuse me, gentlemen, " said he. "Englishmen, I presume?"

"Yes, sir, " responded Jack; "are you English?"

"I haven't that honour, " replied Pierre Lenoir. 

"You speak good English. You have resided in England, I suppose, for along while?"

"No, only a short time. Long enough to get a desire to go back there. "

"That's very kind of you to say so. Your countrymen, as a rule, don'tspeak in such flattering terms of _la perfide_ Albion. "

"And yet they are glad enough to find a refuge there. "

"True. "

"Are you a native of Marseilles?" asked Harry. 

"No. "

"Then you are not offended at our remarks?"

"Not a bit, " replied Lenoir heartily. "The Marseillais are absurdlyconceited about their town, and after all it contains but few objectsof interest for a traveller. "

"Very few. "

"There are some, however, and if you will accept my escort, I shall bevery happy to show you them. "

They expressed their thanks at this courteous offer which, on a verylittle pressing, they were glad to accept. 

"Thanks; we will go and tell a friend, who is waiting for us down bythe quay, that he must not expect us for an hour or so. "

"Very good. "

 * * * *

Markby must have been pretty keenly upon the lookout, for no soonerwere they gone than back he came. 

"Well, what success?"

"Just as I wished, " returned Lenoir, with a great chuckle; "they arecoming back directly. "

"That's your chance; you have only to take them up to your place. Oncethere, you will do as you please with them. "

"There is no danger?"

"What can there be!"

"Only this--suppose that you were mistaken?"

Markby was visibly offended at this. 

"If you think that likely after all I have told you, take my advice andhave nothing whatever to do with them. I don't want to expose you toany risk that you think you ought not to run. "

Lenoir appeared to waver momentarily. 

Markby eyed him anxiously for awhile, until Lenoir, with an air ofresolution, exclaimed--

"Hang the risk. I'll go for it neck or nothing. "

"And you will take them there to-night. "

"I will. "

"Good! You'll have no cause to repent your decision. They'll do you aturn that you little contemplate. "

"Right! Now off with you. "

"I'm gone. "

And away he went. 

"What a strange fellow that Markby is, " thought Pierre Lenoir, lookingafter him. "What an odd laugh he has. "

Alas! Pierre Lenoir had good reason to bear that laugh in mind. 

But we must not anticipate. 

 * * * *

As soon as Markby was fairly out of sight, he beckoned over to a youngman in white blouse and a cap, who had walked along on the oppositeside of the way, keeping Markby in view all the while without appearingto notice him. 

The fellow in the blouse ran across at once. 

"Well, how's it going?"

"Beautiful, " returned Markby, "nothing could be better. Already haveHarkaway and his hard-knuckled companion, Girdwood, been seen inLenoir's society. But before the day is over they will be seen in theCaveaux themselves, where proofs of their guilt will spring uphydra-headed from the very ground. "

"And what will it end in?" asked the other, eagerly. 

"The galleys, " returned Markby, with fierce intensity. 

"Beautiful!" exclaimed the man in the blouse, with unfeignedadmiration. "You always must have been a precious sight downier than Ithought. Why, your old man was no fool. He made a brown or two floatinghis coffins, but he was a guileless pup compared to you. "

"You keep watch, " said Markby, hurriedly; "and be ready for anyemergency. It is a bold stroke we are playing for. Lenoir is adesperate ruffian, and the least mistake in the business would besomething which I for one don't care to contemplate. "

"Lenoir be blowed, " replied the man in the blouse; "the only people Icare about if we should go and make a mess of the job is, firstly--JackHarkaway, and secondly, his pal Harry Girdwood, which a harder fistthan his I have seldom received on my unlucky snuffer-tray. "

And he was gone. 

CHAPTER XCI. 

MARKBY'S NEXT STEP--THE PREFECT OF POLICE--THE PLOT THICKENS--A GLIMPSEOF MARKBY'S PURPOSE--A DOUBLE TRAITOR--DEADLY PERIL. 

Markby went off muttering to himself. 

"Wish that scamp could only share the fate I have reserved for thataccursed Harkaway. However, I can't manage that, so I must be thankfulfor small mercies. "

 * * * *

A short walk brought this Markby to the office of the prefect ofpolice, and his business being of considerable importance, he wasfortunate in soon obtaining an interview with that great man himself. 

"This is an excellent opportunity, " said the head of the police, "ifyour information is thoroughly reliable, although I confess that italmost sounds too good to be true. "

"Pardon me, monsieur, " said Markby, "the expression you use sounds asthough I had got information second-hand; I am a principal. On the10th, you will please to remember. I have to be of the party. "

"It is a very important matter, " said the prefect, "that I will notattempt to disguise from you. This Lenoir is evidently at the head of agigantic conspiracy. We have been long seeking to discover how hedisposed of his counter----"

"Stock, " said Markby, interrupting the prefect, with a smile. "He isthe quintessence of caution, sir, and he never alludes to it by anyother term. "

"You really think that these English people are their confidants?"

"The chief confederates; yes. They are the heads of the English part ofour scheme. "

"How many men should you require?" demanded the prefect, changing thesubject abruptly. 

"A dozen fully armed, in plain clothes. These can descend into the_caveaux_ to make the capture. "

"A dozen!"

"Yes. "

"So many!"

"You don't know Lenoir, " said Markby; "he's the very devil when he'saroused. A dozen will have all their work to do. As for the twoEnglishmen----"

"They are young, " exclaimed the prefect. 

"They are young fiends. I have seen them fight like devils. They arejust as dangerous as Lenoir. They are an cunning as the evil onehimself, and will gammon even you, by their plausible tales. "

"Let me see, " said the prefect, thoughtfully. "I will take note of thenames which you tell me they are likely to assume. "

"One has been calling himself Jack Harkaway. "

"And the other?"

"Harry Girdwood. "

"Good--and you can prove that both the persons whose names are assumedare in Turkey?"

"I can. "

"Very good, " said the prefect, rising, to intimate that the intercoursewas over. "Our men shall be there in force for the capture. "

CHAPTER XCII. 

THE HARKAWAY'S GUIDE--LENOIR'S MUSEUM--THE CAVEAUX, AND WHAT THEY SAWTHERE--THE MEDALS--THE TRUTH AT LAST--A COINER'S TRADE--AN ALARM--ADESPERATE FELLOW. 

"Here we are again, sir, " said Harry Girdwood, stepping up to PierreLenoir; "but I fear we are taking a great liberty in asking you to_cicerone_ such a large party as we muster here. "

Lenoir smiled. 

It was not a free, frank smile. 

To tell the truth, he was a bit annoyed, for besides the two youthsthere was Mole, and the attendant darkeys with them, Tinker and Bogey. 

Lenoir was a cautious man, and he did not care to run risks. 

"Are they friends and confidants of yours?" he asked, rather pointedly. 

It was an odd speech to make, but as he smiled slightly, they took itfor a sort of joke. 

"Oh, yes, they are confidential friends, " returned Harry Girdwood, smiling. 

"Very good, let us begin our look round. We will walk along the quaysif you like, and thence past the Hôtel de Ville. I shall show youseveral objects of undoubted interest, " said Lenoir, significantly. 

He led the way on. 

Jack fell back a few paces, walking on with Harry Girdwood. 

"He's a very odd fellow, " whispered the latter. 

"Very. "

Lenoir led them over the town before he ventured to approach theCaveaux. 

"I have a little museum not far away, " he said. 

"I am afraid we shall be intruding, " began Jack. 

"Not a bit, " protested Lenoir. 

The snuggery in question was situated at some little distance from thetown, and away from the main road. 

The cottage was only a one-story building. 

"His museum is not very extensive, " whispered Harry Girdwood to hiscompanion, "if it is that cottage. "

Lenoir was remarkably quick-eared. 

"My museum is cunningly arranged, " he said to Jack, looking over hisshoulder as he walked on; "you don't get all over it at once. Here weare. "

They had reached the threshold, and opening the door, he led the wayin. 

It was a neat little cottage interior, with nothing about it to attractattention. 

Passing through the first room, Lenoir conducted them to a sort ofout-house beyond. 

Here they came upon the first surprise. 

He opened a door which apparently shut in a cupboard, and this, totheir intense astonishment, revealed a flight of stone steps whichseemingly led into the very bowels of the earth. 

"Hallo!" exclaimed Jack; "why, what's this?"

"I thought I should astonish you, now, " said Lenoir, with his same calmsmile. 

"What is this place?"

"There is a whole series of caves below these, apparently naturalformations. The only way I can account for them myself is that at sometime or other some experimental mining operations have gone on there. Would you like to go down and see the place?"

"With pleasure, " returned Jack, eagerly. 

"Allow me to lead the way. "

When they had descended a few steps, Jack half repented. 

This man was a stranger to them, and he had brought them to a very wildand out-of-the-way place. 

Had he any evil purpose in bringing them there?

Jack stood wavering for a few seconds--no more. 

"We are four, " he said to himself, "four without counting Mr. Mole;they must be a pretty tough lot to frighten us much, after all said anddone. "

So saying down he went. 

The others followed close behind him. 

At the base of the flight of steps they found themselves in a spaciousvault that was unpleasantly dark. 

"Allow me to lead the way now, " said Lenoir, passing on. "Follow meclosely; there is no fear of stumbling, there is nothing in the way. "

So saying, he conducted them through this opening, which, by the way, was so low that they had to stoop in passing under, and foundthemselves now in a narrow cave, which reminded young Jack forcibly ofthe dungeon and its approach of Sir Walter Raleigh, in the Tower ofLondon. 

"What do you think of this place?" demanded the guide. 

"A very curious sight, " was the reply. "You put all this space to nouse?"

"Pardon me, " said Lenoir; "I practise my favorite hobby here. "

"Here!"

"Yes--or rather in the next cellar beyond. "

"And what may be that favourite hobby?"

"Medalling, " was Lenoir's reply. 

And again he shot at his questioners one of those peculiar glanceswhich had so astonished them before. 

"I should like to see some of your work, " said Jack. 

"I thought you would, " said Lenoir, with a quiet chuckle. 

Lenoir led the way into the next cellar or cavern, and here they camesuddenly upon a complete change of scene. 

Here they saw a furnace, with melting pots, bars of metal, moulds, files, batteries, and all the necessary accessories for the manufactureof medals. 

Upon a flat stone slab was a pile of medals, all of the same patternprecisely. 

"Just examine those, Mr. Harkaway, " said Pierre Lenoir, "and tell mewhat you think them. "

Jack put his finger through the glittering heap, and they fell to thetable with a bright clear ring that considerably astonished him. 

"Why, they are silver!"

Lenoir smiled. 

"Very good, aren't they?"

"Very!"

Jack here made a discovery, upon examining them more closely. 

"They are five-franc pieces!" he said, with a puzzled expression. 

"Of course they are--and beauties they are too!"

"There's not much risk in getting rid of those, I should say?"

"Risk!" iterated Harry Girdwood. 

"Aye!"

"Why risk?"

"I mean that no one could detect the difference very easily. Why, theydeceived you, " he added, turning to Jack, with an air of consciouspride. 

"Upon my life, I don't understand what you mean, " said Jack. 

Lenoir looked serious for a moment. 

Then he burst out into a boisterous fit of merriment. 

"You are really over-cautious, young gentleman, " he said. 

"Over-cautious?"

"Why, yes--why, yes. Wherefore this reserve? Why should you pretend notto understand? Don't you see, " he added, with a cunning leer, "that Ican make these medals as perfectly as they can at the Hôtel de laMonnaie, our French Mint?"

"So I see, " said Jack. 

A faint light began to dawn upon Harry Girdwood--not too soon, thereader will say. 

"It is rather a dangerous pastime, Mr. Lenoir, this medalling fancy ofyours, " he said. 

"No, " said Lenoir, pointedly, "the danger is not there; the danger ofthis pastime, as you call it, is in disposing of my beautiful medals. "

"Dear me, sir, " said Mr. Mole. "Do you sell them?"

"Yes. "

"How much?"

"The five-franc pieces two francs and a half, " replied Lenoir, "and soon throughout until we get up to the louis, the twenty-franc pieces;those I can do for seven francs. You can pass them without risk. "

This told all. 

Jack and his friends were astounded. 

"Are you making us overtures to join you in passing bad money?"demanded young Jack. 

"Not bad money, " returned Lenoir, "very good money--all my own make. "

"It is very evident that you do not know us, " said Harry Girdwood, "andso are considerably mistaken. Why you have brought us here and placedyourself in our power, it is utterly beyond me to understand. "

Lenoir stared. 

"What!"

"The position is most embarrassing, " said Jack. "To do our duty wouldbe to repay by great ingratitude your kindness in guiding us about thetown, for we ought to denounce you to the police authorities. "

This speech partook of the nature of a threat and Pierre Lenoir was upin an instant. 

"The worst day's work of your life would be that, " he said, fiercely. "No man plays traitor to Pierre Lenoir a second time. "

"Traitor is a wrong term, " said Jack; "we are not sworn to share suchconfidences as yours. We shall leave you now, but----"

"Stop!"

They were moving towards the entrance when Lenoir sprang before them, and whipped out a brace of revolvers. 

The position grew exciting and unpleasant. 

"Stand out of the way, and let us pass, " exclaimed Jack, impetuously. 

"Don't come any nearer, " said Lenoir, with quiet determination, "for Iwarn you that it would be dangerous. You can't move from this placeuntil you have made terms with me. "

"I for one will have nothing whatever to say to you, " said Jack, haughtily. "I don't care to bargain with a coiner. "

With his old foolhardy way he was stepping forward, in peril of hisvery life. 

Lenoir was a desperate man, in a desperate strait. 

His finger trembled upon the trigger. 

"Stand back, on your life. "

"You stand aside, " cried Jack. 

"Another step and I fire!" cried Lenoir. 

"Bah!"

Jack pushed on. 

Lenoir pulled the trigger. 

Bang it went. 

But the ball whistled harmlessly over Jack's head, and lodged in theslanting roof. 

A friendly hand from behind the coiner had knocked up his arm in thevery nick of time. 

At the self-same instant some eight or ten men, fully armed, burst intothe vault. 

One of them, who was apparently in command, pointed to Lenoir, and saidto the others--

"Arrest that man. He's the leader of them. "

And before the coiner could offer any resistance, they knocked hisweapons from his hands, and fell upon him. 

But Lenoir was a powerful fellow--a desperate, determined man, and notso easily disposed of. 

With wonderful energy, he tore himself from them, and, producingsomething from one of his pockets, he held it menacingly up. 

"Advance a step, " he exclaimed, "and I will blow you all to atoms, myself as well. Beware! I hold all our lives in my hand. Now who daresadvance?"

CHAPTER XCIII. 

LENOIR'S FLIGHT--MURRAY THE TRAITOR--HIS PUNISHMENT AND FLIGHT--A LONGRUN--THE AUBERGE--A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE. 

There was a pause. 

Pierre Lenoir looked like mischief. 

His position was desperate, and they judged, and rightly judged, thathe was a man not likely to stick at a trifle. 

The men looked at their officer, and the latter, a man of intelligenceand prudence, albeit no coward, reflected seriously. 

Several terrible calamities, accidental and intentional, had of lateopened the eyes of the public to the destructive properties ofdynamite, and to that his thoughts flew. 

He wavered. 

The coiner saw his chance, and quick to act as to think, he made forthe exit. 

"Stand back!" he cried, fiercely, to the men who made a faint show ofbarring his passage. "I'll finish you all off at a stroke if youattempt to oppose me?"

They fell back alarmed. 

Lenoir darted on through the inner vault, and so on until he gained theflight of steps. 

Reaching the top, he darted through the cottage, and reaching the open, suddenly found himself in the midst of about a dozen men. 

The first person upon whom his glance rested, was the doubly-dyedtraitor who had betrayed him solely to serve his own ends, byentrapping Jack Harkaway--the Englishman, who must have been recognizedby the reader, in spite of his assumed name, as Herbert Murray. 

Instinctively Lenoir divined that his betrayer was the youngEnglishman. 

No sooner did this conclusion force itself upon him than all thought ofpersonal danger vanished from his mind, and he was possessed by onesole idea, one single desire. Revenge!

He lost sight of the peril in which he ran, but with a cry like theroar of a wounded lion he sprang upon the traitor. 

A brawny, powerful fellow was Pierre Lenoir, and Herbert Murray was buta puny thing in his grasp. 

"Hands off!" exclaimed Murray, in desperation. 

Lenoir growled, but said nothing, as he shook him much as a terrierdoes a rat. 

Before the police could interfere in the spy's behalf, Lenoir held himwith one hand at arm's length, while with the other he prepared todeliver a fearful blow. 

The energy of despair seized on the hapless traitor, and wrenchinghimself free from the coiner's grasp, he fled. 

Pierre Lenoir stood staring about him a second. 

Then he made after him. 

Away went pursuer and pursued. 

The terror-stricken Murray got over the ground like a hare, andalthough the coiner was fleet of foot, he was at first distanced in therace. 

It became a desperate race between them. 

Lenoir tore on. 

He would have his betrayer now or perish. 

But before he had got more than two hundred yards the pace began totell upon him. 

He felt that he would have to give in. 

"I must go easier, or I shall fail altogether. "

So reasoning, he slackened his pace, and dropped into that slingingtrot that runners in France know as the _pas gymnastique_. 

If your strength and wind are of average quality, you can keep up for aprodigious time at that. 

Murray flew on, anxious to get away from his furious pursuer. 

He increased his lead. 

But presently the pace told upon him likewise. 

He collected his thoughts and his prudence as he went, and rested. 

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Lenoir come bounding along, aconsiderable distance in the rear. 

"Savage beast!" thought Murray. "He means mischief. "

Murray meant tiring him out. 

This, however, was not so easily done. 

The Englishman was a capital runner, and had been one of the crack menof his school-club. 

But his _forte_ was pace. 

The Frenchman, on the contrary, was a stayer. 

It looked bad for Murray. 

On they went, and when a good mile had been covered, Murray, onglancing back, felt convinced that it was only a question of time. 

He must tire out the Frenchman in the end, he thought. 

He believed that an Englishman must always be more than a match for aFrenchman at any kind of athletics. 

He reckoned without his host, for while he (Murray) was getting blown, Lenoir swung on at _pas gymnastique_, having got his second wind, andbeing, to all appearance, capable of keeping on for any length of time. 

"I shall have to give it up, " gasped Murray, when, at the end of thesecond mile, he looked over his shoulder again. 

An unpleasant fact revealed itself. 

While he was faltering, the Frenchman was rather improving his pace. 

Yes. 

The distance between them was lessening. 

And now he could hear Lenoir's menaces quite plainly as the coinergained upon him. 

"I shall have you directly, and I shall beat your skull in!" theFrenchman said. 

Murray's craven heart leapt to his mouth. 

Already he felt as if his cranium was cracked by the brutal fist of thesavage coiner. 

Fear lent him wings. 

He put on a spurt. 

"Oh, if I had but a pistol, " thought Murray; "what a fool I was to comeunarmed on such a job as this. "

He partially flagged again. 

The distance between them was still decreasing. 

This he felt was the beginning of the end, but just as he was thinkingthat there was nothing for it but to turn and make the best fight forit he could, he sighted a roadside inn--a rural auberge. 

And for this he flew with renewed energy. 

Dashing into the house, he pushed to the door and startled theaubergiste by gasping out in the best French he could command--

"_Un assassin me poursuit. Cachez-moi, ou donnez-moi de quoi medéfendre!_"[3]

 [3] "I am pursued by an assassin. Hide me, or give me something to defend myself with. "

The landlord took Murray--and not unnaturally--for a madman. 

He did not like the society of madmen. 

To give a weapon to a furious maniac was out of all question. 

And the landlord had nothing handy of a more deadly nature than a knifeand fork. 

Moreover, he would not have cared to place a dangerous weapon in amadman's hands. 

So he met the case by humouring the fugitive with a proposal to go upstairs. 

Murray wanted no second invitation. 

Up he flew, and locked himself in one of the upper rooms just as Lenoirhammered at the door below. 

"_Où est-il?_"[4] demanded the coiner, fiercely. 

 [4] "Where is he?"

"_Qui?_"[5]

 [5] "Who?"

"_Ne cherchez pas à me tricher_, " thundered Lenoir. "_Il m'appartient. Où est-il, je vous le demande?_"[6]

 [6] "Seek not to deceive me, " thundered Lenoir. "He belongs to me. Where is he, I ask you again?"

The coiner's manner made the aubergiste uneasy, and thoughtful for hisown safety. 

So he pointed up stairs. 

Up went Lenoir, and finding a room door locked, he flung his wholeweight against the door and sent it in. 

This was the room which the fugitive had entered. 

But where was Murray?

Gone!

Vanished!

But where?

CHAPTER XCIV. 

THE COINER AND THE SPY--A REGULAR DUST-UP, AND WHAT CAME OF IT--THECHASE--AN ODD ESCAPE--HUNTING IN THE HAY--A ROUGH CUSTOMER DONE FOR. 

When Lenoir had puzzled himself for some time over the mysteriousdisappearance of Herbert Murray, he made a discovery. 

The window was open, a circumstance which he had until then, in themost unaccountable manner imaginable, overlooked. 

But when he got to the window and looked out, there were no signs ofthe object of his search. 

He had followed so sharply that Murray could not have had time to getoff. 

He looked up and down the road eagerly. 

The only thing in sight was a wagon-load of hay drawn by a team ofhorses, at whose head plodded a waggoner in a blue cotton blouse, whipin hand. 

"_Hé, la-bas!_" shouted the coiner from the window. 

The waggoner turned and looked eagerly up. 

"_Qu'avez-vous?_" demanded the waggoner. "What's the matter?"

"Have you seen anyone jump out of window?" shouted Lenoir. 

The waggoner responded tartly, for he fancied that his questioner wastrying to chaff him. 

"I've seen no one mad enough for that; in fact I've seen no one madderthan you since I've been in this part of the country. "

"_Espèce de voyou!_" cried the irritable Lenoir, "_je te ficheraisune danse si j'avais le temps pour t'apprendrs ce que c'est que lapolitesse_. I'd dust your jacket for you if I had the time to teach youpoliteness. "

"You're not likely to have time enough for that, as long as you live, _espéce de pignouf_. "

"Idiot!"

"_Imbécile!_"

This interchange of compliments appeared to relieve the belligerentparties considerably. 

Lenoir was obliged to give it up for a bad job. 

Suddenly a singular idea shot into his head. 

The hay cart!

What if Herbert Murray had got into it unseen and was there now, without his presence being suspected by the waggoner?

Lenoir reflected for a moment. 

Then he darted down the stairs in pursuit of the waggon. 

"Hullo, there, driver!" he shouted. 

The waggoner looked over his shoulder and recognised Lenoir. 

So he whipped up. 

The best pace that even a stout team of horses could put on, with a bigload of hay behind them was not to say racehorse speed, so the coinersoon caught them up. 

The waggoner awaited his approach, grasping his whip with a nervousgrip that foreboded mischief. 

On came Lenoir. 

"I say, my friend, " he called out, "I think you have a man concealed inthe cart!"

"_Va-t-en!_--get out!" retorted the waggoner. 

"I am serious. Will you oblige me by pulling up and looking?"

"Not exactly. "

Lenoir had a very limited stock of patience, and he soon came to theend of it. 

He ran to the leading horse and pulled it up sharply. 

The waggoner swore and lashed up. 

But Lenoir, turning his attention next to the shaft horse, pulled thewaggon up to a standstill. 

And the waggoner, furious at this, lashed Lenoir. 

The whip caught him round the head and shoulders, curling about so thatthe man could not get it free. 

Lenoir caught at the thong, and with a sudden jerk, brought thewaggoner down from his seat. 

Now began as pretty a little skirmish as you could wish to see. 

The waggoner fell an easy prey to the furious coiner at first. 

He was half-dazed with being jerked down to the ground. 

But he soon recovered himself. 

Then he set to punching at Lenoir with all his strength. 

Then they grappled fiercely with each other. 

A desperate struggle for supremacy ensued. 

At length Lenoir's superior strength and science prevailed, tough asthe waggoner was. 

The latter lay under the coiner, whose knee pressed cruelly upon hischest. 

"Now ask my pardon, " said Lenoir. 

"Never!" roared the defeated waggoner, stoutly. 

"I shall kill you if you don't, " said Lenoir, threateningly. 

"Mind you don't get finished off first, " said the waggonersignificantly. 

As he spoke, he was looking up over his conqueror's shoulder. 

Lenoir perceived this, but thought it only a _ruse_ to get him to shifthis hold. 

So, with a contemptuous smile, he raised his clenched fist to deal theluckless waggoner a blow that was to knock every scrap of sense out ofhis unfortunate cranium. 

"Take that!"

But before the waggoner could get it, Lenoir received something himselfthat sent him to earth with a hollow groan--felled like a bullockbeneath the butcher's pole-axe. 

Somebody had after all been concealed in the waggon. 

That somebody was Herbert Murray himself. 

The English youth had heard the scuffle, and seeing his opportunity, heslid out of his place of concealment and joined in the fight at thevery right moment. 

 * * * *

The waggoner shook himself together. 

"That was neatly done, _camarade_, " he said. 

"I was just in time, " said Murray; "look after him. He is wanted by thepolice; a desperate customer. They are after him now. "

"He's very quiet, " said the waggoner, with a curious glance. 

"He's not dead, " returned Murray; "he has his destiny to fulfil yet. "

"What may that be?"

"The galleys, " was the reply. 

The waggoner stared hard at young Murray. 

"I don't like the look of you much more than that of the beast lyingthere, " he thought to himself; "mind you don't keep him company in thegalleys. "

An odd fancy to cross a stranger's mind. 

Was it prophetic?

CHAPTER XCV. 

PLANS FOR OUR FRIENDS' RELEASE--MURRAY'S COUNTER-PLOT--THE LETTER, ANDHOW IT WAS INTERCEPTED--HERBERT MURRAY TRIUMPHS--CHIVEY WORKS THEARTFUL DODGE. 

"Well, " exclaimed the unfortunate Mole, "this is a nice go!"

"I'm glad you think it nice, " said young Jack, bitterly. 

As they spoke, they were being led through the streets of Marseilles, handcuffed and two abreast, with a brace of gendarmes between eachcouple. 

The people flocked out to stare at the "notorious gang of forgers, which"--so rang the report--"had just been captured by the police, after making a desperate resistance. "

The first impulse of Jack Harkaway himself had been naturally to resisthis captors. 

But he was speedily shown the uselessness of such a course. 

When they were brought up before the judge for examination, theyprotested their innocence, and told the simple truth. 

But this did not avail them. 

Herbert Murray had prepared the way for their statements to be regardedas falsehoods. 

By this means, when Jack protested that his name was Harkaway, it wentclearly against him, inasmuch as it corroborated what Murray had said. 

So they were remanded, one and all, and sent back to the cells. 

Mr. Mole's indignation could not be subdued. 

"These people are worse than savages!" he exclaimed; "but we'll letthem know. They shall make us ample reparation for this indignity. "

He talked threateningly of the British ambassador, and made all kindsof threats. 

But he was poohpoohed by the authorities. 

Harry Girdwood was the only one of the party who kept his coolness. 

He put forth his request with so much earnestness, to be allowed to seethe English consul, that his request was granted at once. 

He drew up a letter and entrusted it to the gaoler, who promised tohave it forwarded. 

Now this became known to Herbert Murray, and he then saw that he hadstill a task of no ordinary difficulty before him--that it was notsufficient alone to have his hated enemies arrested. 

The greater difficulty by far was to keep them now that he had securedthem. 

In this crisis he once more consulted with his worthless servant andconfederate, Chivey. 

"Our next job, " said Chivey, doubtfully, "is to get at the gaoler, andstop the letter he has received from reaching its destination. "

"How would you set to work?" demanded his master. 

"You do what you can inside, " said Chivey, "and I'll lay in wait forthe messenger with the letter outside in case you fail. "

"Good. "

"You can buy that gaoler, " said the tiger. 

"I will. "

"Do so. Your task is the easier of the two. Ten francs ought to squarehim. "

"It ought, " said Murray; "but I question if it will. "

 * * * *

Murray was doomed to a sad disappointment in his operations, for dowhat he would, he could not "get at" the man charged with deliveringthe Harkaways' letters. 

But he contrived to ascertain who the man was, and to give adescription of him to the tiger. 

Chivey saw the man come out of the prison, and he thought over variousplans for getting hold of the letter which he knew that he must becarrying. 

His first idea was to go up to him and address him straight off uponthe subject; but this would not do. 

The messenger would in all probability take the alarm. 

He next had an idea of following up the messenger, and after giving hima crack on the head, rifling his pockets. 

This idea he abandoned even sooner than the first, and this for sundrywholesome reasons. 

Firstly, the man's road did not lead him into any sufficiently quietplaces for such an attempt. 

Secondly, the man was a tough-looking customer, and an awkward fellowto tackle. 

And thirdly--but the second reason sufficed to send Chivey's mind awayfrom all ideas of violence. 

No; deeds of daring were not at all in Chivey's line. 

He had a notion, however, and this was to go as fast as he could to theBritish consul's, and there to be ready for the messenger when he came. 

His plans were not more matured than this; but chance seemed to verymuch favour this precious pair of youthful scamps--for the time being, at any rate. 

 * * * *

Chivey timed his own arrival at the consul's residence, so as to bethere just a few minutes in advance of the prison messenger. 

The servant who admitted him was an Englishman, and told Chivey thathis master was particularly engaged just then, and would not be visiblefor some considerable time. 

"Be so good as to ask when I can see your master, " said Chivey, with anair of lofty condescension. 

"I must not disturb him now, " said the servant. 

"He will be very vexed with you if you don't, " returned Chivey, "whenhe knows my business. "

The servant being only impressed with this threat, went off at once toobey the insidious tiger, who of course was not in livery. 

Barely had the consul's servant disappeared, when the messenger fromthe prison entered. 

Chivey recognised him instantly. 

"_Une lettre pour Monsieur le Consul_, " said the messenger. 

Chivey held out his hand, and the man, taking it for granted thatChivey belonged to the consular establishment, gave it to him. 

"_Il y a une réponse_--there is an answer, " said the messenger. 

"It will be forwarded, " returned Chivey, with cool presence of mind. 

"I ought to take it with me, " said the messenger. 

"I can't disturb his excellency now, " replied the tiger; "those are mymaster's express orders, which I can't presume to disobey. He will sendthe answer on immediately it is ready. "

The man paused. 

"The consul was expecting this letter, " said Chivey, moving towards thedoor, "and he told me particularly that he would send the answer on. "

"_Puisqu'il est ainsi_, " said the man, dubiously. "Since it must be so, I suppose I had better leave the letter. "

"Of course you had, " returned Chivey, closing the door. "I daresay youwill get the answer within an hour. "

At that very moment the servant returned with a message from the consulto the effect that in half an hour he could be seen, if the applicantwould call again. 

"Very good, " said Chivey, in the same patronising manner, "you may tellyour master that I will look back later on. "

"Very well, sir. "

Chivey walked out, chuckling inwardly at the success of his mission. 

"What could be easier?" said the Cockney scamp to himself; "shellingpeas is a fool to it. "

But before he could get fairly over the threshold, the servant stoppedhim with a question that startled him a little, and well-nigh made himlose his presence of mind. 

"The man who called just now, sir, he left a letter. "

"Eh? Oh, yes!"

"For you, sir?"

"Yes, " added Chivey with the coolest effrontery. "My servant knew thatI had come on here; thinking to be detained some time with hisexcellency the consul, I left word at my hotel where I was coming, andhe followed me here with a letter. "

"Oh, I see, sir, " returned the servant, obsequiously, "quite so, sir, beg pardon, sir. "

"Not at all, my good man, not at all, " returned Chivey, superciliously;"you are a very civil, well-spoken young man--here is a trifle foryou. "

He passed the servant a large silver coin, and walked on. 

The servant bowed again and examined the coin, in the process ofbobbing his head. 

"Five francs, " said the consul's servant, to himself; "he's a realswell, anyone can see. "

One word more. 

The five-franc piece which had in no slight degree biassed theservant's opinion of the visitor, was one of Pierre Lenoir's admirablemanufacture. 

 * * * *

"Let's have a look at the letter, Chivey, " said Herbert Murray, as soonas his servant got back. 

But Chivey seemed to hesitate. 

"Come, come, " said Murray, "we shall not quarrel about the terms. "

"We oughnt't to, " returned the tiger, "for it's worth a Jew's eye. "

Murray tore the letter open and read it down eagerly. 

As it throws some additional light upon the actual state of affairswith the Harkaway party, possibly it may be as well to give the letterof young Jack to the consul verbatim. 

It was dated from the prison. 

 "SIR, --I wish to solicit your immediate assistance in getting released from the above uncomfortable premises, where, in company with a party of friends and fellow-travellers, I have been by a singular accident carried by the police. From scraps of information I have gained while here, I believe I am correct in asserting that we have fallen into a trap, cunningly prepared for us by an unscrupulous fellow-countryman of ours, who has cogent reasons for wishing us out of the way, and has accordingly caused me and my friends to be arrested as coiners. The person in question is named Herbert Murray, but I am unable to say under what _alias_ he is at present known in this part of the world. I mention this that you may be able to keep an eye upon the individual pending our release on bail, for I presume that bail is a French institution. My signature will serve you for reference on me, as it may readily be identified at my father's bankers here, Messrs. B. Fould & Co. 

 "Your obedient servant, "JACK HARKAWAY. "

Herbert Murray pursed his brows as he read on. 

"What do you think of that?" demanded Chivey. 

"Queer!"

"Precious queer. "

"The one lesson to be learnt from it, Chivey, " said his master, "is tostop all correspondence between the prisoners and the consul. "

"And push forward the trial as much as possible. "

"Yes, and get together as many reliable witnesses as we can----"

"Buy them at a pound apiece, " concluded Chivey. 

"Right, " said Herbert Murray, with a mischievous grin; "forewarned, forearmed; we hold them now and we'll keep them----"

"Please the pigs, " concluded Chivey fervently. 

CHAPTER XCVI. 

OUR FRIENDS IN DURANCE VILE--A STROKE FOR LIBERTY--THE PRISONERS'PLOT--MOLE IS PRESCRIBED FOR--A FRIEND IN NEED--HOPES ANDMISGIVINGS--"OLD WET BLANKET. "

"It's very odd. "

"Very. "

"And scarcely polite, " suggested Mr. Mole. 

"Well, scarcely. "

"That makes the fourth letter I have written to him, and he doesn'teven condescend to notice them. "

"Very odd. "

"Very. "

But while all the sufferers by the seeming neglect of the consul wereexpressing themselves so freely in the matter, old Sobersides, as Jackcalled his comrade, Harry Girdwood, remained silent and meditative. 

Jack had great faith in his thoughtful chum. 

"A penny for your thoughts, Harry, " said he. 

"I'll give them for nix, " returned Harry Girdwood, gaily. 

"Out with it. "

"I was wondering whether, while you are all blaming the poor consul, hehas ever received your letters. "

"What, the four?"

"Yes. "

"Of course. "

"I don't see it. "

"But, my dear fellow, consider. One may have miscarried--or two--buthang it! all four can't have gone wrong. "

"Of course not, " said Mole, with the air of a man who puts a final stopto all arguments. 

"There I beg leave to differ with you all. "

"Why?"

"The letters have not reached the consul, perhaps; they may have beenintercepted. "

"By whom?" was Jack's natural question. 

"Can't say positively; possibly by Murray. "

"Is it likely?"

"Is it not?"

"I don't see, unless he bought over the messenger. "

"And what is more likely than that?" said Harry. "And if they havebought over one messenger, it is for good and all, not for a singleletter, but for every scrap of paper you may send out of the prison, you may depend upon it. "

This simple reasoning struck his hearers. 

"Upon my life!" exclaimed Jack, "I believe Harry's right. We musttackle the governor. "

"So I think. "

"And I too, " added Harry Girdwood; "but how?"

"I'll write him a letter. "

"Yes; and send it to him by the gaoler, " said Harry. 

"Yes. "

"The gaoler who carried all the other letters? Why, Jack, Jack, what athoughtless, rattlebrained chap you are. What on earth is the use ofsuch a move as that?"

Jack's countenance fell again at this. 

"You're right, Harry. I go jumping like a bull at a gate as usual. Whatwould you do?"

Harry's answer was brief and sententious. 

"Think. "

"Do so, mate, " returned Jack, hopefully again; "do so. "

"I will. "

He pressed his lips and knit his brows with a burlesque, melodramaticair, and strode up and down, with his forefinger to his forehead. 

He stopped suddenly and stamped twice, as a haughty earl might do in atranspontine tragedy when resolving upon his crowning villany, andexclaimed in a voice suggestive of fiend-like triumph--

"I have it. "

"Hold it tight, then. "

"One of us must sham ill so as to get the doctor here. Once he's here, we shall be all right. "

"Hurrah!" cried Jack Harkaway; "that's the notion. We shall yet defeatthe schemes of that incarnate fiend, Murray. "

"That is a capital idea, " said Mr. Mole. "You have suggested quite anew idea. "

"Now stop; the next thing for us to think of is who is to be the shaminvalid, " said Jack. 

"I would suggest Tinker, " said Harry. 

"Or Bogey, " observed Mr. Mole. 

"Why?"

"Because it would not be easy to tell whether they looked in delicatehealth or not. "

"There's something in that, " said Jack, "but there's this to sayagainst it. "

"What?"

"They might not be able to keep the game up so well as one ofourselves, so I think----"

Here Jack paused, whilst Harry and he exchanged a meaning winkunobserved by the old gentleman. 

"I think that it ought to be Mr. Mole, " continued our hero. 

"Why?"

"Why, sir; can you ask why? You are such a lovely shammer. "

"Come, I say, " began Mr. Mole, scarcely relishing it. 

"He's quite right, sir, " said Harry Girdwood, "you are inimitable as ashammer. "

"I?"

"You can pitch it so strong, Mr. Mole, " said Jack. 

"And so natural, " added Harry Girdwood. 

"Life-like, " said the two together, in mingled tones of raptadmiration. 

Mr. Mole was but human. 

Humanity is but frail, and ever open to the voice of flattery. 

What could Mole do but yield?

Nothing. 

He gave in, and shammed very ill indeed. 

Well, the result of this was that the gaoler made his report, and thedoctor came. 

"_De quoi se plaint-il?_" demanded the doctor, as he entered the cell. 

"What does he say?" asked Mole; "I'm as deaf as an adder. "

"The doctor asks what you complain of?" said Jack, in a very loudvoice. 

"Oh, any thing he likes, " returned Mole, impatiently. 

They were on the point of bursting out laughing at this, when thedoctor startled them considerably by saying in broken (butunderstandable) English--

"What he say--any thing I like? _Singulier!_"

"Ahem!"

Harry Girdwood gave the word; a glance of intelligence went round. 

They, to use Jack's expression, pulled themselves together, and lookedserious. 

"It is headache, " said Jack. "Violent headache, he says. "

"Yes, " said Mole. 

"Show your tongue. "

Mole thrust it out, and then the doctor felt his pulse. 

"Very bad; you have the fever. "

"What?" ejaculated Mole, aghast. 

"You have the fever. "

"What sort?"

The surgeon looked puzzled. 

"Typhus or scarlet, I should say, " suggested Jack. 

"What is that?" demanded the French doctor, curiously. "_Je ne suispas très fort_--I am not very strong in English. "

"Then, sir, " said Jack, "pray accept my compliments upon yourproficiency; it is really very remarkable. "

"You are very good to say that, " returned the surgeon; "_mais_--nowfor our _malade_--what is _malade_ in English?"

"Patient. "

"Patient! Well, I hope that he will justify ze designation. What do youfeel?" he added to Mr. Mole. 

"Rush of blood to the head, " said Mole, thinking this quite a safesymptom to announce. 

"Yes, yes--_sans doute_--no doubt, " said the doctor, looking as wise asan owl. "We can make that better for you quick--a little _sinapisme_. "

"That's what you call a mustard plaister, isn't it?" said Harry. 

"_Sinapisme_--mustard who?" demanded the French doctor of Jack. 

"Plaister. "

"_Merci. _"

"I'm not going to have any mustard plaister on, " said Mole. 

"_Comment!_" exclaimed the doctor; "_il n'en veut pas!_ he will not!_Morbleu!_ Ze prisonniers have what ze docteur ordonnances. "

"Will he?"

"Yes. You are quite right, doctor, " said Jack, in French. "Where is heto have on the plaister?"

"On his legs, at the back of his ankles, " replied the doctor; "it is todraw the blood from his head. "

"Very good, sir. "

Jack translated, and the patient singularly enough grew reassuredimmediately. 

"It won't hurt much on the back of your legs, Mr. Mole, " said Harry. 

They enjoyed a quiet grin to themselves at this. 

The prison doctor then sent the gaoler for writing materials for thepurpose of writing out a prescription. 

Then was their chance. 

"Doctor, " said Jack, "I want to see the governor. "

"Why have you not asked, then, through the gaoler?"

"I prefer some other method. "

"Why?"

"Because I don't know whether the gaoler is safe. "

"I don't understand you, " said the doctor. 

"I have written four letters to the British consul, " returned Jack, "and no answer has come. "

"Well?"

"Well, sir, I am afraid he has never received the letters. "

"Why?"

"Because my name is well known to him, and he would have replied. Ihave referred him to the chief banker of the town, who can readilyidentify me through my signature. I wish them to communicate with myfather, and, in a word, to show the authorities how utterly ridiculousand preposterous is the charge against us in spite of appearances. "

Jack's earnestness caught his attention. 

"They would never dare to keep letters back. "

"Money has tempted them, I feel assured. "

"Whose money?"

"The money of a spy--a fellow-countryman of ours, who has interest inkeeping me out of the way. "

"His name?"

"His real name is Herbert Murray, his assumed name is Markby. "

"Markby; I know that name. Of course; he is the principal witnessagainst you. You say his assumed name?"

"Yes. "

"Can you prove it?"

"Easily; if I can get at the means of establishing a defence. It is toeffect this, that I have addressed myself to the consul, but he doesnot reply, so that, monstrous and absurd as this charge is, we areunable to disprove it, simply because here we are tied hand and foot. "

"This is very strange. "

The doctor, as he spoke, shot them a dubious glance, which did notescape Jack. 

"I tell you, sir, that my father is rich and influential. Moreover, heis exceedingly liberal in money matters with me. I have not theslightest need to add to my income by any means whatever, much lessdishonest courses. "

"What proof can I offer to the governor?"

"Plenty, " returned Jack, eagerly. "Here is my father's address inEngland; let him be communicated with immediately. This Markby is anunscrupulous rascal. He has forged my name to several cheques, androbbed me. He fears detection, and has built up a cunning plot, usingthe coiner, Lenoir, as his cat's paw, and while we are caged here uponthis ridiculous charge, he can get off to another part of the world. "

This convinced the prison surgeon completely. 

"I will see the governor at once, " said he; "meanwhile, see that yourobstinate old friend attends to my instructions, and he will soon bewell. "

"Excuse me, doctor, " said Jack, "but the honest truth is that he is notill at all. "

"Not ill!"

"No. We doubted the gaoler's honesty, and, fearing he was bought overby our enemy, adopted this ruse. "

"To see me?"

"Yes. "

"Ha, ha! I see it all now; very ingenious on your part. Well, well, myyoung friend, I will see the governor at once, and you shall not belong in trouble. "

"You will earn my eternal gratitude, and that of my fellow-prisoners, as well as the much more substantial acknowledgment of my father. "

"_Bien, bien_, " said the surgeon smiling. "_Au revoir!_"

And bowing pleasantly to the prisoners generally, the doctor left thecell. 

 * * * *

"There, " said Jack. "You may look upon that as settled, so comfortyourselves. "

"He has gone to the governor?" asked Mole. 

"Yes. "

"Hurrah!"

"I hope it will go all right now, " said Harry Girdwood, who wasscarcely so cheerful as his companions. 

"You wretched old wet blanket!" exclaimed Jack, gaily, "of course itwill. "

"Of course, " added Mole. 

"You may consider yourself as good as outside the prison already. "

"I do, for one, " said Mole, quite hilarious at the prospect. 

"Humph!" said Harry. 

CHAPTER XCVII. 

THE DOCTOR AND THE GOVERNOR--HOW THE PLOT WORKS IN FAVOUR OF JACK'SENEMIES--UNLUCKY PRISONERS!

"_Sapristi!_"

Thus spake the governor of the prison. 

The occasion was within a few minutes of the doctor's entrance into hisprivate cabinet, to which the medico had gone immediately afterquitting the English-prisoners. 

"_Sapristi!_"

"Well, what they say is very easily verified, " said the doctor, rathertartly. 

The fact is that he was somewhat nettled at the doubting expressionwith which the governor met his account of his interview with JackHarkaway and his fellow prisoners. 

"My dear Doctor Berteaux, " returned the governor, with the mostirritating smile, "this youth is a notorious young scoundrel. Just seehow clever he must be, too; he has actually imposed upon the astuteDoctor Berteaux, who has such a vast experience amongst criminals. "

"But, sir----"

"I tell you, doctor, I know all about this young scoundrel from A to Z. His real name is Herbert Murray. "

"Why, that he said was the real name of the agent Markby, " exclaimedthe doctor. 

"The deuce he did. Egad! doctor, that's beautiful. "

And the governor chuckled rarely at the idea. 

The doctor began to look a little uncomfortable. 

"Do you mean to say----"

"That you have been egregiously humbugged? Yes, that's exactly what Ido mean. Why, doctor, doctor, at your time of life consider. "

"But----"

"Come, come, get rid of this silly fancy, old friend. "

"At least, " insisted the doctor, "do me the favour to communicate withthe consul. "

"Indeed, I shall do nothing of the kind. You can see the British consulif you like, and a rare laugh he'll enjoy at your expense when he seeshow you have been duped by this young scoundrel. "

"Ahem!"

 * * * *

Well, the doctor did not communicate with the consul after this, andJack Harkaway waited with his companions, Mole and the "wet blanket, "Harry Girdwood, and the two faithful darkeys, and waited in vain. 

Waited until they grew heart-sick with hope deferred. 

CHAPTER XCVIII. 

JOE DEERING AT HOME AGAIN--ON THE LOOKOUT--NEWS AT LAST--JOVIAL CAPTAINROBINSON IN DANGER. 

We must cross the Channel to England again. 

But not for long. 

One character in our drama of real life has not appeared upon the scenefor some time. 

We allude to the skipper of the "Albatross, " Joe Deering. 

Captain Deering had finished his course and returned to his nativeland. 

He was anxious to get home, for he had a purpose in view. 

He wished to rout out two men to whom he owed a very deep grudge, whichhe was fully determined to pay off. 

One was Mr. Murray, the treacherous owner of the ill-fated "Albatross, "for Captain Deering, it should be borne in mind, was ignorant of thewretched man's well-merited fate. 

The other was that traitor friend of his, the accomplice of the elderMurray--jovial Captain Robinson. 

Joe Deering was in earnest, and he pursued his inquiries with theutmost diligence. 

The jovial captain was not to be heard of anywhere at first. 

But Joe Deering, baffled here, like a skilled mariner as he was, setout on another tack. 

He made his inquiries for Mr. Murray alone. 

"Where one thief is, " said Joe, to himself, "the other murderingscoundrel is sure to be not far off. "

For some time his search proved unavailing again; but he was presentlyrewarded for his perseverance by the first gleam of good luck. 

He learnt the late address of Murray senior. 

"This is a step in the right direction, " said Joe Deering, with achuckle. 

So with renewed hope he went to the house. 

"Mr. Murray ain't been home for many months, sir, " said thehousekeeper, in reply to Deering's inquiry, "and I haven't any news ofhim since goodness knows when. "

"You don't mean that?" said Deering, aghast. 

"Indeed, but I do, and I hope that you're not going to misbelieve melike that Captain Robinson, that calls here every----"

"What?" ejaculated Deering. "Avast there. Captain Robinson, did yousay?"

"Yes. "

"Do you know him?"

"I can't very well be off knowing him, seeing as he's here about twicea day, and I know he never wished my poor master no good. "

"What makes you think that?" asked Joe Deering. 

"Master used always to try to avoid seeing him, poor old gentleman, "replied the housekeeper. 

"Why do you call him 'poor old gentleman?'"

"Because I know he suffered dreadfully, and I think he was worried bythat Robinson into doing something dreadful. "

"How dreadful?"

Joe Deering's curiosity was excited now by the housekeeper's manner, and he pressed her for further information. 

"That Captain Robinson worrited him to a skeleton, sir, " she answered;"he was always here nag, nag, nagging night and day. At last my poormaster bolted, sir. "

"Bolted!"

"Ran away. "

"Where to?"

"I don't know; but he bolted from here, and from Captain Robinson. "

"But Mr. Murray was surely not in fear of Captain Robinson?"

"Indeed, he was. Captain Robinson knew something about my poor masterthat oughtn't to be known, so it was said, and he was always trying toforce Mr. Murray to give him money. "

"The deuce he was!" said Captain Deering. "This throws a new light onthe scoundrel and his cursed good-natured-looking figure-head. "

"A deceitful beast!" said the housekeeper, warmly. "You would havethought that he couldn't hurt a worm to look at him, and yet I dobelieve that he's drove poor Mr. Murray to make away with himself. "

"You don't think that?"

"What else can I think? He hasn't been seen or heard or for months andmonths. But if I wasn't so heavy at heart over that, sir, I could laughfor joy to see that beast of a Captain Robinson's disappointment everytime he comes. "

"So he comes often?" said Joe Deering, eagerly. 

"Every day; sometimes twice a day, " was the reply. 

Deering thought this information over quietly. 

"Would you like to serve him out?" he asked presently. 

"Who?"

"Captain Robinson, " responded Deering. 

"That I should, indeed, " said the housekeeper, eagerly; "only show mehow to do it. "

"I will. "

Joe Deering did. 

He made himself known to the woman, and convinced her that he had amplereason for wishing to repay the grudge. 

And they plotted together to wreak a well-merited vengeance upon thatfalsely jovial Captain Robinson. 

The nature of that vengeance you will learn if you have patience towait till the next chapter. 

CHAPTER XCIX. 

HOW CAPTAIN ROBINSON CAME TO APPLY HIS LEECH AGAIN--WHAT CAME OFIT--THE SEA GIVES UP ITS DEAD--A FEARSOME SIGHT--THE TRAITOR'STERROR--JOE DEERING WIPES OFF AN OLD SCORE. 

Captain Robinson was more jovial than ever. 

His honest-looking, ruddy face was beaming with smiles, and he appearedas hearty as the most honest, upright and plain-sailing fellow in theworld. 

Captain Robinson was like most sailors in one respect; he wasremarkably superstitious. 

Instinctive presage of good luck to-day put him in rare spirits, as hemade his customary call. 

"I feel as if I was going to land him to-day, " muttered the jovialcaptain to himself. 

And his face was actually beaming with smiles, as his hand rested onthe knocker. 

"Oh, good, morning, Mrs. Wilmot, " he said, heartily; "how are you thisbright morning, Mrs. Wilmot?"

"Better, thank you, Captain Robinson, " returned the housekeeper, givinghim an odd glance. 

"That's hearty. Why, you are looking more yourself. "

"Better in health, because better in spirits, " said the housekeeper, insidiously. 

The captain pricked up his ears at this. 

"Any better news by chance, Mrs. Wilmot?" said he. 

"Ah, that there is indeed, " said she. 

"About the master?" asked he. 

"That's it, " said she. 

"You don't mean to say that he's coming home again?"

"I don't mean to say that he's coming, " said the housekeeper, withwondrous significance. 

"Why, whatever are you driving at?" he said. 

"I'm not a-driving at nothing, Captain Robinson--leastways, not that Iam aware of. All I know is, that Mr. Murray ain't likely to be cominghome, for he ain't in a position to come home, seeing as----"

She paused. 

"What?"

"Guess what. "

"Hang it all, I can't. "

"You must. "

She laughed outright, and clapped her hands in regular kitten-like joy. 

"What on earth do you mean, Mrs. Wilmot? I hate such palavering andbeating about the bush. If he's coming home, say so; if he ain't cominghome, tell me where I can see him, or where he's hiding. "

"Why, he can't be coming home when----"

Here she stopped short in the most aggravating manner in the world. 

The jovial captain grew black and threatening. 

He was just going to burst out into a noisy fit of abusive language, when she stopped him short with a remark which quite startled him. 

"There, there, what an impatient man you are, surely, Captain Robinson. Go up stairs and see for yourself why he ain't coming home. "

The captain could only infer one thing from her words. 

Murray was back. 

Yes, he was not coming home, because he had already come. 

This explained the housekeeper's joyous spirits, which seemed to bubbleover in her. 

"She's a nice old gal, " said Robinson to himself, as he mounted thestairs, "and I'll stand her a trifle after I have applied my leech toher master again. Ha, ha, ha!"

The jovial captain laughed at the quaint conceit. 

He rarely enjoyed the prospect of once more gloating over the miserableMurray writhing under the moral pressure. 

"I'll make him bleed handsome for keeping away so long, " thought thisjovial mariner. "I wonder how he'll enjoy the leech after such a longwhile?"

His hand rested upon the handle of the door. 

What a startler it would be for Mr. Murray. 

"I'll knock, " thought the jovial Captain Robinson; "he'll think it'sMother Wilmot again. Such larks!"

He knocked. 

"Come in. "

How changed the voice sounded. 

"He's caught cold, " thought the practical joker. 

He opened the door. 

Closed it carefully behind him to guard against intrusion. 

Then he turn and faced--Joe Deering!

 * * * *

Jovial Captain Robinson stood aghast. 

The sight of his old friend literally petrified him. 

Deering stood facing the jovial scoundrel, his hands leaning on thetable. 

Not a muscle of his face moved. 

A cold, settled expression was in his eyes. 

So fixed, so steady, that they might have been set in the head of adead man. 

The jovial Robinson was tongue-tied for a time. 

 * * * *

"Joe!"

This monosyllable he faltered after a long while, and after a very bigeffort. 

But Joe Deering said never a word in reply, nor did he move a muscle. 

"Joe. "

Deering stared at him with the same fixed, glassy eyes, until JovialCaptain Robinson had a hideous idea flash across him. 

Was it really a living man there?

He fastened a fixed, fascinating look upon the figure of the friend hehad so villainously betrayed, and retreating a step, groped aboutbehind him, for the handle of the door. 

At last he got hold of it, and turned it. 

"Stop!"

Deering had spoken, and with a jerk the jovial Captain Robinson turnedround. 

"Joe!" he gasped, again, "did you speak?"

Now Joe Deering saw by the traitor's pallid cheeks, and frightenedlook, what was passing in his mind. 

So he was at no pains to destroy the illusion. 

"I did. Your ears did not deceive you. "

"I thought not, " faltered Captain Robinson, plucking up in a faintdegree, however. 

"You marvel to see the ocean give up its dead, " began Joe Deering, in ahollow voice. 

Jovial Captain Robinson sank against the door for support, while adelicate green tint spread itself over his face. 

We have said that he was a superstitious man. 

This huge lump of humanity--nay, rather of inhumanity--was worse than aschoolgirl in point of courage. 

The very word ghost frightened him, if he saw it in print. 

He was sure that Joe Deering was dead. 

Certain was he that Joe Deering had been decoyed into that floatingcoffin, and sent to a watery grave by himself. 

Here then was the betrayed man's ghost come to reproach him with hiscrime. 

The strong man turned heart-sick, and was like to faint. 

Joe Deering looked at the fear-stricken traitor in silence. 

He enjoyed his terror keenly indeed. 

No feeling of pity at the abject terror of the wretched man crossedhim. 

For his thoughts went back to those fearful days and nights they passedon board the doomed "Albatross. "

Jovial Captain Robinson had been pitiless before, and the sufferingsgone through in that terrible time had hardened Joe Deering's kindheart. 

A genial, generous and soft-hearted fellow as a rule, he could notpardon this infamous wretch who had lured him into such a trap, evenwhile professing the most affectionate friendship for him. 

No!

This was Joe Deering's chance--his long looked-for opportunity, and noweak emotion should spoil the revenge which he had waited for sopatiently. 

 * * * *

Jovial Captain Robinson essayed to speak. 

In a faint, faltering voice, he managed to pronounce Joe Deering'sname. 

"Well, murderer!" returned Joe Deering; "what is it you want?"

"I want you to shake hands with me, Joe, " responded the other, almostinaudibly. 

"Assassin!"

"I--I--I don't mean you any harm, " gasped jovial Captain Robinson. 

"Liar!" thundered Joe Deering; "you dare make that statement, hoveringas you do, between life and death!"

"No, no, no, no!" shrieked the jovial captain; "not that, Joe, notthat. "

"Yes, I say; for you are not long for this world. "

"You are not sent to tell me that, Joe, " said Robinson, his voice dyingaway in spite of a desperate effort to make it audible. 

"I am. "

"Ugh!"

And with a half groan, half grunt, he sank upon the ground prostrate. 

Before his senses had fairly fled, Joe Deering strode over to him, anddelivered him a heavy kick behind. 

This brought him round in a wonderful way. 

He knew that it was a material foot that had given that kick, and theconviction was a marvellous relief to him. 

He scrambled up. 

As he got to his feet, Joe Deering fixed him by the throat, and shookhim. 

"You plotted to accomplish my murder, " he said, "but now my turn'scome, Robinson, and I mean to punish you. "

Jovial Captain Robinson was a coward, an arrant cur, yet he infinitelypreferred having to tackle flesh and blood, to battling with a ghost. 

He turned upon his assailant. 

But Deering was not to be denied. 

Before the jovial captain could do any thing to help himself, JoeDeering hammered his face into a jelly. 

Half dazed, stunned, and blinded, Robinson fought it out, andstruggling fiercely, he shook himself free. 

And then he fled like a beaten cur from the house. 

Joe Deering did not attempt to follow him. 

"There, " he said, calmly enough, considering what had gone before, "that's done. Thank goodness it's off my mind. Mr. Murray must have mynext attention. "

He little thought that the wretched shipowner had already paid thepenalty of his crimes. 

 * * * *

Jovial Captain Robinson was never the same man again. 

Whether it was the physical or the mental punishment he had had, wecannot possibly determine, but certain it is that something broke himup from that day, and he lingered on a miserable life of two years ormore, and died in abject want. 

CHAPTER C. 

A DOSE OF PALM OIL. 

Having settled the hash of jovial Captain Robinson, we now proceed tothe pleasant task of measuring out justice to others. 

Messieurs Murray and Chivey are the persons we mean. 

Those gentlemen, having taken such excellent precautions to cut offyoung Jack Harkaway's communications with the outer world, fanciedthemselves tolerably safe. 

Yet every now and then Murray's nerves were shaken as he thought of thevindictive Lenoir. 

What had become of that dangerous individual?

The police had gone to the spot where Murray told them he had left thecoiner senseless, and there they certainly found traces of a severestruggle, but Lenoir had disappeared. 

The peasant also had done his duty as a French citizen by reporting theaffair to the first gendarme he met on his road. 

But though Marseilles was thoroughly searched, no trace of the mancould be found, either in the town or the surrounding rural districts. 

"There's one consolation, guv'nor, " observed Chivey, "he won't dareshow his ugly mug in Marseilles any more, so you're safe enough here. "

"He's desperate enough for any thing. "

"It's galleys for life if he's collared, and he knows it well enough. "

"Galleys!--ugh!"

And Herbert Murray gave a convulsive shudder, in which he wassympathetically joined by Chivey. 

"Ain't it 'orrid to see them poor devils chained to the oars, and thehoverseer a walkin' up and down with his whip, a-lashin' 'em?" saidChivey. 

"'Tis, indeed. "

Murray again paused and shuddered, but after a moment, he continued--

"But it would be jolly, though, to see Harkaway and his friends at it. "

"Crikey! and wouldn't I jest like to see that old beast of a Molepulling away on his stumps. D'ye think they'll all get it?" askedChivey. 

"Yes, unless they manage to communicate with their friends or theconsul. "

"Then I had better just stroll up and see if our old pal the gaoler hasstopped any more letters. "

"Yes, go by all means, for if we don't call for them, he's likelyenough to give them up to----"

Murray hesitated, but Chivey instantly supplied the word. 

"The rightful owners, you mean, guv'nor. "

"Cut away!" sharply exclaimed Murray, who was annoyed at the libertiestaken by his quondam servant. 

Chivey strolled up towards the prison, and was just in time to meet thegaoler coming out. 

"Mornin', mossoo, " he said, with a familiar nod, "rather warm, ain'tit? What d'ye say to a bottle of wine jest to wash the dust out o' yerthroat?"

The Frenchman did not comprehend a fourth part of this speech, but heunderstood that he was to partake of a bottle of wine, and at oncesignified his willingness. 

"Vid moosh plaisir, m'sieu. "

And he led the way to a cabaret where they sold his favourite wine. 

"Now have you got any letters for me?" said Chivey, when they werecomfortably seated at a table, remote from the few other customers, whowere engaged in a very noisy game of dominoes. 

"No understand, " said the man, shaking his head. 

"Any letters--billy duxes?"

The man made a gesture to indicate that he did not understand. 

"Thick-headed old idiot, " muttered Chivey; then calling in pantomime toaid his lack of French, he produced the first letter Jack had writtento the consul. 

"Letter, like this. "

The gaoler's eyes twinkled; he nodded and half drew from thebreast-pocket of his uniform the very document Chivey was so anxious toget hold of. 

"Hand it over, old pal, " he said, holding out his hand. 

The gaoler smiled as he again concealed the letter. 

Then he in turn held out his hand, and made signs that he requiredsomething to be dropped into it. 

"Old cormorant wants more palm oil, " muttered Chivey, and mostreluctantly he drew from his pocket one of the gold pieces HerbertMurray had given him for the purpose of bribing the gaoler. 

But the Frenchman shook his head. 

"Two; I cannot part with the letter under two, " he said, in much betterEnglish than he had hitherto spoken. 

"Well, I'm blest! Why couldn't you speak like that before? We'd havecome to business much sooner. "

"I thought Monsieur would like to exhibit his extensive knowledge ofthe French tongue, but here is the letter. "

"And here's the coin. I will buy as many as you can get at the samefigure. "

"You shall certainly have the first chance. "

Chivey helped himself to another glass, and asked--

"When is the trial to be?"

"The judge, unfortunately, has been taken ill, and the prisoners willhave to wait about three weeks for an opportunity of proving theirinnocence. "

"That's unfortunate. What do you think they'll get?"

"If found guilty, twenty years at the galleys. "

"What, old wooden legs and all?"

"The gentleman who has lost his limbs will be probably sent to someother employment. "

"What a pity. Well, good-bye, old cock; keep your weather-eye open. "

"_Au revoir, monsieur. _"

Cocking his hat very much on one side, Chivey stalked out of the place. 

CHAPTER CI. 

HOW THE PURLOINED LETTER WAS LOST--AND WHO FOUND IT. 

"That 'ere frog-eating swine gets two quid for bonin' the letter, so Ithink I'm entitled to one. Can't let all the coin go into old Frenchy'spocket. "

Thus Chivey muttered to himself as he neared the place where he andHerbert Murray were staying. 

Chivey evidently intended putting the screw on Herbert. 

"Look here, guv'nor, " said he, as he entered the room; "I ain't much ofa reading cove, but I see once a book called Jessop's fables. "

"Æsop's fables, I presume you mean, Chivey?"

"It's all the same. But there's a yarn about a monkey what made the catpull chestnuts out of the fire; and I'm jiggered if I'm going to playthe cat. "

"I am not aware that anyone wishes you to do so, " responded Murray, inhis blandest manner. 

"Well, you are a-trying it on, at any rate. "

"How so?"

"Why, supposing it's found out about our stopping these here letters?"

"Which letters, Chivey?"

"The one I've got in my pocket, and----"

"Oh, you've got one, then. Hand it over, please, Chivey. "

"Not so fast, guv'nor. You jest listen to what I've got to say first?"

"I am all attention. "

"Well, supposing this game was found out, who do you think would getinto trouble?"

"Why, you would, undoubtedly; and your friend the French gaoler. "

"And don't you think it's worth your while to come down very handsome, considering the risk I run. "

"It does not strike me in that light; but I do think it would be a goodplan for you to get rid of the stolen letter as soon as possible; forif any thing is found out, and the gaoler says he gave you the letters, it is not likely that his word--the word of a man who acknowledgeshimself a thief--will be taken against yours, unless the documents arefound in your possession. "

"That's all very well. "

"Then if it's all very well, just hand over the letter. "

And Murray held out his hand. 

Chivey, very reluctantly, passed over the letter, muttering as he didso--

"Well, I'm blest if I don't think you would whistle a blackbird off thenest while you stole the eggs. "

Herbert Murray took no notice of this speech; he was too deeplyengrossed with the letter which he found read as follows--

 "To Her Britannic Majesty's Consul at Marseilles:

 "SIR, --I have already addressed several letters to you on the subject of the incarceration of myself and friends in the prison of Marseilles, on a charge of counterfeit coining. I also explained how we were led, by the artful devices of a person calling himself Markby, to be actually in the coiner's house when the police entered it, and, therefore, appearances are certainly against us. To all those letters you have made no reply, which I think is certainly hard, and not quite right, as I imagine the duty of a British consul includes looking after the interests of British subjects in the town or district he is stationed at. 

 "Now, sir, in my former letters I requested you to communicate with the bankers in this town, and also with my father, whose address I give below, and who placed money in their hands for my use. If you will do so, you will see that all the statements in my former letters are correct; but if you do not, a number of British subjects will probably be condemned and heavily sentenced, entirely through your neglect. 

 "Therefore, I beg of you at once to communicate with those who can identify me and my friends, and in the meantime to use your influence to postpone the trial till that communication can be effected. 

 "Your obedient servant, "J. HARKAWAY, JUNR. "

"My eye!" said Chivey, when Murray had read the letter aloud, "ain't hegetting his back up?"

"No matter. They are all of them safe enough, and if they get out, I'llforgive them. "

"But they won't forgive you. "

"Perhaps not; but ring the bell, Chivey. We'll have some wine afterthis, and just hand over the cigar box. "

The ex-groom gave a tug at the bell-rope and ordered wine. 

Then he took up a cigar-box and, giving it a vigorous shake, ejaculated--

"There ain't a blessed smoke in it, guv'nor. "

"Well, I'll just put on my hat and stroll up to the shop of MonsieurCretineau-Joly and order a fresh stock. I must have a few minutes'exercise before it gets dark; shan't be ten minutes. "

Herbert left the apartment, while Chivey muttered--

"He's afraid of meeting that Lenoir if he goes out after dark. "

And Chivey was quite right. 

Herbert Murray walked briskly up the street till he reached thetobacconist's, where he paused a moment, to look at the numerousvarieties of the nicotian herb displayed in the window, along withpipes and cigar tubes of every shape and pattern. 

As he looked, several others looked, and one of the lookers, whileremoving his pipe, was so unfortunate as to allow some of the tobaccoash to blow in Murray's face. 

"Curse you, for an awkward Frenchman, " growled Murray, while the otherpolitely apologised for the mishap. 

Herbert coughed, and sneezed, and drew out his handkerchief to wipe hisface; but neither he nor anyone else noticed at the same time he drewout young Jack Harkaway's letter, which fluttered slowly to thepavement, where it lay with the address downwards. 

Murray bought his box of cigars, and returned to the hotel where heresided, but still the letter lay unheeded beneath the tobacco shopwindow, till darkness had settled over the town of Marseilles exceptwhere street lamps and shop lights pierced the gloom. 

Then there came up to the shop an old man, who apparently had been asoldier, as he dragged one leg very stiffly, and had his left arm in asling. 

But although his hair was white, his carriage was upright and martial. 

He looked in at the door, then entered, and purchased some tobacco, after which he stood outside and filled his pipe. 

"I might have taken a light inside, " he muttered, when that operationwas finished, and seeing a scrap of paper on the pavement, he picked itup, to use as a pipe-light. 

But the writing on the outside caught his eye. 

"A letter to the British consul!" the old man ejaculated. "It may beworth a franc or two, if I restore it to his excellency. "

So he thrust it into his pocket, obtained a light, and hobbled away inthe direction of the consulate. 

But presently he paused in a retired spot, where only a single lampillumined the surrounding houses. 

"I wonder what the letter is about, " he said; "I can make a betterbargain, perhaps, if I know the contents. "

And without more ado, the man pulled out the letter, and read itcarefully. 

Although it was written in English, the old French soldier seemed tounderstand it thoroughly. 

"That cursed villain's name again, " he hissed, through his teeth, whenhe had read a few lines. "But I'll pay him yet. "

Then he continued the perusal, steadily, till he came to the end. 

"It looks like truth, " he said, as he returned it to his pocket. "Iwill restore it to the consul. Ha, ha! it will be sport indeed if I, Pierre Lenoir, the proscribed criminal, can defeat the schemes of thatvillain. "

With a subdued chuckle the coiner departed on his way, revelling withdelight at the thought that he would yet be avenged on his perfidiousfriend. 

He reached the consul's residence, knocked, and was admitted by thesame servant who had formerly opened the door to Chivey. 

"Is his Excellency the Consul at home?"

"Yes, but very much engaged, " replied the flunkey. 

"I do not particularly wish to see him, but I have found this letter inthe street, and it may be something of importance. "

"Right, my good feller; 'ere's a franc for you. "

And the door was closed on Lenoir, who hastened away. 

 * * * *

Two hours later the governor of the gaol and the consul were engaged inan important conversation. 

But their plans must, for the present, remain a secret, nor did Jackand his imprisoned friends know that their last letter had produced abetter effect than the first. 

CHAPTER CII. 

A SORROWFUL HOUSEHOLD--NEWS AT LAST. 

Change we the scene to England, and to that particular part of theisland where old Jack and his friends were living. 

Though surrounded by every luxury that money could procure, they werenot happy. 

"No news yet!" was the first question that Mrs. Harkaway would ask herhusband in the morning, and he with a shake of the head, wouldrespond--

"None yet, my dear; but do not despond. "

But the fond mother vainly endeavoured to hope against hope. 

Little Emily, too, went about in a most listless, melancholy manner, wondering why it was that Jack did not write, and Paquita, too, wasquite despondent at not hearing any thing of Harry Girdwood. 

Dick Harvey did all he could to cheer up everybody, but it was a hardtask, for he was working against his own convictions, which were thatthe youngsters had got into some trouble from which they were unable toextricate themselves. 

Letters had been written to young Jack at Marseilles, but these hadnever reached him, having fallen into the hands of Herbert Murray, whohad applied at the post office, in the name of Harkaway, for them. 

Paquita and little Emily, though still firm friends, were not in eachother's society so much as formerly, as they both preferred to enduretheir sorrows in solitude. 

Paquita, in particular, was fond of a sequestered nook in the grounds, where, half hidden by shrubs, she could command a view of the longstraight road leading from the nearest railway station. 

She had a notion that she would be the first one to see the absentees, and had chosen that as a place of observation, where she would sit forhours watching and trying to hope. 

Harvey found out her retreat, and employed the photographer who tookEmily's portrait, to give a good likeness of the southern beauty. 

Paquita knew nothing of this, so absorbed was she in her ownmeditations, till a few days afterwards Uncle Dick, as she had learntto call him, gave her some copies of it. 

She thanked him, and, hurrying off to her own room, enclosed one in anenvelope, which she addressed to Harry. There was no letter with it, but underneath the portrait she wrote--

 "_With Paquita's dearest love. As she waits for one who comes not. _"

This she posted herself, registering it for extra safety. 

 * * * *

Still came no tidings, as day after day passed, till one morning thepostman brought a large official-looking letter, addressed in a strangehandwriting, and bearing foreign post-marks. 

Despite all his hardihood, Harkaway's hand trembled as he took it up, and, eager as he was for news, it was some seconds before he couldnerve himself to break the seal. 

His wife sat watching with breathless expectation, feeling convincedthat at length there was news. 

"Are they safe?" she asked, when she had followed her husband's eye tothe conclusion of the lengthy epistle. 

"They _are_ safe, for the _present_. "

"Thank Heaven!" she exclaimed, giving way to woman's greatrelief--tears. 

"But _where_ are they?" she continued a minute afterwards. 

"At Marseilles, where they have been for some time, so the Britishconsul tells me, and where they are likely to be till we go to releasethem. "

"Release them! What do you mean? Don't keep back anything from me, dearhusband. "

"Well, if you must know the worst, they are in prison, on a charge ofcoining. "

"What an infamous charge to make against them?" exclaimed a couple ofindignant feminine voices, belonging to little Emily and Paquita, whohad just come into the room. 

"Husband, you don't believe our boy to be guilty of such a crime?"

"No; but----"

"But what?"

"Appearances are very much against them, the consul says. The greatthing is to establish their identity, as the boy is supposed to haveassumed the name he bears. "

At this moment Harvey appeared, and the news was instantly imparted tohim. 

"It is a very serious affair, and it is certain we must go at once. Butreally it is ridiculous to fancy old Mole and those black rascalsaccused of coining. "

"It will not be ridiculous, if they are condemned and sent to thegalleys, pa, " said little Emily. 

"True, little girl, therefore we will see about starting at once. Yousee about packing my things, while I run up to town to get passportsfor the lot of us. "

"Passports are not required for travelling, " said Emily. 

"Certainly not for travelling; but what can establish our identitybetter than passports signed by the British Secretary of State forforeign affairs?"

There was no answering this question; so Dick started off for London, while the rest busied themselves with preparations for a continentaltrip. 

Within forty-eight hours they were crossing the Channel; six hourslater they had entered Paris, where they took a brief rest, and thencontinued their journey towards Marseilles. 

For just as they were starting Harkaway received a telegram from theconsul at Marseilles--

"Come as soon as you possibly can, or you may be too late. "

Need it be said that, after such a message, they lost no time inspeeding to their destination?

CHAPTER CIII. 

MONSIEUR HOCQUART CLERMONT DELAMARRE--THE COINER AT HOME. 

But what had the consul and the governor of the gaol been doing allthis time?

When the consul first called upon the governor of the gaol, thatofficial tried to laugh off the matter. 

"Surely, " said the governor, "you don't believe the tale these youngfellows tell?"

"I am more than half inclined to do so, if only from the fact that thewriter of this appears to have written several other letters which havemiscarried. But why, may I ask, was I not informed that some of mycountrymen had been arrested?"

"Well, my dear sir, their story seemed to me so absurd, that I did notthink it worth while to trouble you. "

"But they asked to see me. "

"True. "

"And I fear as you did not forward their request, I shall be obliged tomention your name, to our ambassador in Paris. "

"For Heaven's sake do not! If such a thing were known to the ministerof justice, I should lose my situation at once. "

"Then if I am silent on this matter, you must render me everyassistance in finding out the truth about these prisoners. "

"Willingly. What can I do?"

"I should like to see the youth who calls himself Harkaway; but firstof all, where is the gaoler who usually has charge of these prisoners?"

"Gone to his home, monsieur. The ordinary officials are, as you aredoubtless aware, replaced by a military guard, between sunset andsunrise. "

"Good, then oblige me by bringing him here. "

So young Jack was brought into the presence of the consul, who closelyquestioned him as to what he had been doing in Marseilles. 

He told the truth, and, in spite of the severe cross-examination by thegovernor and the consul, stuck to his tale. 

"Humph!" said the consul. "You are consistent, at all events. Well, forthe present, you may return to your cell, but don't tell even yourfriends that you have seen the British consul. "

"I won't mention it, sir. "

And Jack returned to his cell, escorted by the governor himself, as theconsul did not wish anyone to know of the interview. 

But when the governor returned, the consul said--

"Now, Monsieur Hocquart Delamarre, what do you think of the affair?"

The governor did not reply, but there quietly glided from behind ascreen, which probably had concealed him during the interview, a man ofmiddle age and height, with nothing at all striking in his appearance. 

He might have passed for a clerk, a second-rate shopkeeper, or asuperior artisan; anyone passing him in the street would have taken nonotice whatever of such an everyday kind of a man. 

Yet, after all, a very close observer would have noticed something verypeculiar about him. His eyes!

One moment they seemed to pierce the inmost recesses of your very soul, yet when you tried, through them, to find a clue to their owner'sthoughts, you were utterly defeated, for they became misty andexpressionless. 

"What do I think of the affair, monsieur?"

"Yes. "

"Well, so early in the case, it is difficult to pronounce a decidedopinion, " said Delamarre. 

"That is very true, Monsieur Delamarre, " said the consul. 

"But as your excellency has sought my professional assistance in thiscase, I feel my reputation is at stake, and shall exert myself to theutmost. "

"Monsieur Delamarre is one of the cleverest gentlemen we have in thisline of business, " said the governor. 

The middle-aged gentleman bowed. 

"You are kind enough to say so, sir. "

"You have made a good selection, Monsieur le Consul. In the detectivepolice Monsieur Delamarre has few equals. "

Again the detective bowed, and addressing the consul, said--

"When shall I next have the honour of waiting on you again, monsieur?"

"As soon as you have learned any thing you think of sufficientimportance to tell me. "

"At the consulate, of course?"

"Will it be safe for you to be seen there?"

"Monsieur, I stake my professional reputation that, when I call on you, you shall not recognise me till I choose to reveal myself. There is anextremely artful person mixed up in this affair, but I shall provestill more artful than any of them; take the word of Hocquart ClermontDelamarre. "

With another bow the French detective made his exit. 

He proceeded in the first place to his own temporary residence, wherehe made a considerable alteration in his personal appearance. 

Then making straight for the quarter of the city mostly inhabited bythe respectable working classes, he made a friendly call on PierreLenoir the coiner, who, as it will be remembered, the police had beenunable to trace since his encounter with Herbert Murray and thewaggoner. 

A friendly call we have termed it, and so it seemed at first, for thedetective and the criminal shook hands in the most friendly manner. 

"Hullo, friend Clermont, " exclaimed Lenoir, "what brings you fromParis!"

"Why, it was too hot for me there. "

There was a pause. 

"And you, too, " continued the detective. "I have heard your namementioned very much of late. How did that affair happen?"

Pierre Lenoir told his friend, whom of course he did not know as adetective, but merely as an associate with coiners and such likepeople, how he had been tricked by Markby. 

"But I'll have his life, though. "

"Doubtless. It will be a bad day for him when he falls into yourhands. "

Lenoir growled a fierce oath. 

"He has escaped me for the present, but if I wait for years, I willhave my revenge. Pierre Lenoir never forgives. "

Unheedful of the coiner's anger, the detective stroked his moustache, and continued--

"But how about the prisoners up at the gaol yonder?"

"They are innocent. "

"Innocent!"

"Undoubtedly. "

"Then why are they in prison?"

"Because the only persons who can clear them are Markby and myself. "

"Ah, I see!"

"And Markby for some reason or other won't clear them. "

"Some old grudge, I suppose. "

"Yes. However, they are innocent; when I tried them, they flatlyrefused to have anything to do with the game. "

"Well, they are in a nice fix; but how did you manage to escape afterthat little affair with Markby and the peasant?'"

"Crawled into a bush as near as possible to the scene of the fight. "

"Ah!"

"If I had gone half a mile away, the police would no doubt have foundme, but the thick-headed rascals never thought of looking only half adozen yards off. Ha, ha, ha!"

The detective smiled grimly. 

"They are thick-headed rascals. "

And after a pause occupied in listening to sounds in the street, herepeated--

"And the English prisoners are entirely innocent then?"

"Entirely. "

"Now listen to me, Pierre Lenoir, " continued the detective, rapping thetable smartly as though to command attention. "But what a curious echoyou have in this old room. "

"I had not noticed it; but to continue. "

"These English refused to have any thing to do with your business, yousay?"

"Yes; and showed fight when I would have used force to detain them. "

"Then if the judge knows that, the young fellows will be released?"

"Yes; but, my dear friend, it is not likely I shall go to the court togive evidence in their favour. "

"You will. "

"Nonsense. "

"I shall take you there. "

There was something in his visitor's manner that made Lenoir firststart from his seat and make a hasty movement towards the table. 

But he recoiled when Hocquart Clermont Delamarre thrust a revolver inhis face and exclaimed--

"If you make another movement towards that drawer where your pistolsare, I will send a bullet through you. Keep your hands down by yourside. "

"What in the fiend's name does this mean?" gasped the coiner. 

"It means that you are my prisoner. "

"Prisoner. "

"Yes. "

"Then who are you?"

"You have known me as Clermont, but my real name is Delamarre. "

"The detective?"

"The same. "

The coiner gave a hasty look round the apartment, and then made a steptowards the door. 

But it instantly opened, and there appeared a police officer inuniform, who said--

"If you attempt to pass this door, you are a dead man. "

The window!

It was not very high above the roadway, and one bold leap might yetbring liberty. 

But, as if reading his very thoughts, Delamarre gave one of thosepeculiar raps on the table, which was again echoed from without, andinstantly the figure of a policeman armed with a revolver was seenfilling the casement. 

The chimney!

That he knew was crossed by strong bars. No exit that way. 

"Sit down, Pierre Lenoir. "

The detective was provokingly cool, and the coiner gnashed his teethwith rage. 

"Sit down, man; why, you ought to feel proud at being taken so neatly. "

"Curse you!"

"Never mind. I have the finest and easiest pair of wristbands anygentleman in your line of business ever wore. Let me try them on. "

Lenoir for a moment contemplated resistance, but two revolvers wereclose to his head, so second thoughts prevailed. 

He was firmly handcuffed. 

"Now, Pierre, " said the detective, "listen to me, and I will quicklyprove that I am a far better friend than you think me. "

The coiner smiled a bitter smile. 

"Of course it doesn't look so; but listen. "

"I am compelled to, " replied Lenoir. 

"You can clear these English prisoners. "

"If I choose to speak. "

"If you choose to speak, the English consul will exert all hisinfluence to procure a mitigation of your sentence--whatever it maybe. "

Lenoir nodded. 

"But if you do not, why, the whole force of the British Embassy will beexerted against you; so I fancy your choice will soon be made. "

Lenoir sat silent for some minutes. 

"Have you made up your mind?" asked the detective at length. 

"I don't see why I should speak; they belong to the same cursed countryas that Markby. "

"Well, don't you see how nicely things come round? You clear theprisoners, and by so doing incriminate Markby, _alias_ Murray. "

"Aye; but where is he?"

"In Marseilles. I am only waiting for a little more evidence before Ilay my hands on him. He is a slippery customer, and it won't do toarrest him until the case is complete. "

"Then, curse him, I'll tell all--nay, more, if you look in that drawer, where the pistols are, you know, you will find a note from him to me. That will be quite as good evidence as my word. "

"Good, Lenoir. I can't promise you a free pardon, but I fancy you willget off lightly. "

"I hope I may be sent to the same galley as Murray, _alias_ Markby, hasto serve; and if I am only chained to the same oar I shall be happy. "

"Why. "

"I will find an early opportunity, and then I will kill him. "

"No, Lenoir; that will not be the way to shorten your sentence. "

"I'll kill him. "

"No; lead him a life of misery and dread while he is chained to theoar. What you do when you are both released is a matter I have nopresent concern with. "

"March, then; let us be going. "

And the coiner walked gaily away, his anger at being captured havingbeen replaced by joy, at the hopes of avenging himself on thetreacherous Markby, _alias_ Murray. 

Hocquart Clermont Delamarre himself walked arm-in-arm with the coiner, and the good people of Marseilles knew not that he had been taken. 

Even in the gaol he was entered under an assumed name. 

The gaoler, who had been in attendance on the English party, could notunderstand why his prisoners wrote no more letters to the Englishconsul or their relatives in England, and Herbert Murray almostsuspected the truth when he chanced, the day after losing the letter, to look for it. 

But Chivey reassured him. 

"I went all over your clothes and my own this morning afore you was up, guv'nor, and burnt every one of the letters I could find. "

"What for?" demanded Murray. 

"In case of accidents. It would not do us any good to have them thingsfound on us; and nobody ever knows what is going to turn up. "

CHAPTER CIV. 

THE ESCORT--THE TRIAL. 

"Marseilles at last!" exclaimed Dick Harvey, as the train came to astandstill. 

"I thought we were never to end our journey, " said little Emily. 

However, they quickly got clear of the railway station, engagedapartments at an hotel, and then, without waiting to eat or drink, madetheir way towards the gaol. 

"I wonder what house that is with the Union Jack flying over it, " saidMrs. Harkaway, as they passed along a street near the harbour. 

"The British consulate very likely, " said her husband "We had bettercall there. "

But the consul was not at home. 

"Do you know where he is gone?" asked Harvey of the servant. 

"Why, sir, there are some Englishmen to be tried to-day for coining, and he is gone to watch the case. "

"To-day?"

"Yes, sir; in fact, the trial will commence in ten minutes, " repliedthe man, after consulting his watch. 

"Where does the trial take place?"

"The second turning on the left, sir. The hall of justice is a largebuilding just round the corner. "

"Come along, then, " said Harkaway; "there is no time to lose. "

They hurried along the street at a rate that made the French peoplestare. 

Paquita was the first of the party to turn the corner, and she had nosooner done so than she exclaimed--

"There they are. "

And running between a file of soldiers, threw her arms round HarryGirdwood's neck. 

Little Emily would have followed her example, but the officer in chargeof the escort would not permit any such irregular conduct, and Paquitawas compelled to rejoin her friends. 

"Hurrah, dad!" exclaimed young Jack; "I knew you would turn up in time. And, mamma, how pale you are looking. "

"Can you wonder at it, my boy, considering the anxiety we have allsuffered?"

"Mr. Mole, Mr. Mole, " exclaimed Dick Harvey, shaking his head, "I amsurprised indeed to hear that you have taken to counterfeit coining. "

"Harvey, this is really no joking matter, " replied Mole. 

"No, it will be no joke when you are chained to the oar in one of thosegalleys down in the harbour. "

"Stand back, ladies and gentlemen, if you please, " exclaimed theofficer commanding the escort. "I cannot allow any communication withmy prisoners. "

So they were obliged to keep at a distance. 

At that moment a portly, elderly gentleman, who had been watching thescene, came up, saying--

"Have I the honour of addressing Mr. Harkaway?"

"That is my name, sir. "

"I am the English consul. "

Our old hero at once seized him by the hand, saying--

"Sir, words are powerless to express how grateful I am for yourinterference on behalf of my boy. "

"Don't mention it, sir, I only did as I am instructed to do in all suchcases. "

"But about the trial; what chance does that young scapegrace stand?"

"There is very little doubt that he will be acquitted, as we have thebest of evidence in his favour. But come along, sir, let us get intocourt. "

The consul led the way into the hall of justice, and placed theHarkaway party among the audience in such a position that they couldsee all that was going on, without being conspicuous themselves. 

Then they waited patiently till the judge arrived. 

 * * * *

While our young hero's father and friends were thus enteringMarseilles, two people were trying to leave that city. 

These were Herbert Murray and his friend Chivey. 

"There ain't no use in stoppin' 'ere, guv'nor, " the latter had said. "We can see by the papers what they gets. "

"You are right, Chivey; we will get away for a time. "

"We can come back an' see 'em when they are fairly fixed, you know. "

"Well, pack up, and we'll just take a trip to Paris for a week. "

Their portmanteaus were quickly got ready, and a vehicle was engaged totake them to the railway station. 

But when they alighted, and were about to take their tickets, a verypolite police officer tapped Murray on the shoulder, and said--

"I much regret to have to ask monsieur to postpone his journey. "

"What?"

"I must request Monsieur to defer his visit to Paris till after thetrial of the English coiners. "

"What has that to do with me?"

"The judge may desire your presence, monsieur; he may wish to hear yourevidence. "

"Nonsense!"

"It may be; but I am compelled to say that I cannot permit you to leaveMarseilles to-day, and I must request you to accompany me back to thehall of justice. "

"We are prisoners, then?"

"By no means. Only the law requires your presence, and the law, youknow, must be obeyed, monsieur?"

Chivey had not taken part in the conversation, but had been lookinground for a good chance of escaping. 

"You, of course, will accompany your friend?" said the detective, tapping him on the shoulder. 

"Must, I suppose, " responded Chivey, who noticed several otherpoliceman were loitering about the station. 

So, with a very bad grace, the two intending excursionists walked backto the hall of justice. 

The English prisoners had already been brought into the hall, and thetrial had commenced. 

It certainly seemed at first that our young hero had got himself into abad fix, for the evidence was much against him. 

The police had captured them in Lenoir's workshop. 

They had been seen in conversation with him not only there, but at thecafé the police had been warned of their nefarious doings and so forth. 

"Have you any witnesses to call, prisoner?" ask the judge, addressingyoung Jack. 

"Yes, Monsieur le Juge; and the first of them is Pierre Lenoir. Let himbe called. "

"What folly is this?" demanded the judge, sternly. 

"I ask that Pierre Lenoir shall be summoned to give evidence, " repeatedyoung Jack, who had been told by Delamarre what line of defence toadopt. 

"Do you think he will respond if called?"

"If he does not respond, I shall derive no benefit from his evidence. "

"Let Pierre Lenoir be called, " said the judge, rather angrily. 

And Pierre Lenoir was called by an officer of the court. 

"Here!"

The answer was clear and distinct. 

And the next moment Pierre Lenoir, escorted by two gensdarmes, marchedinto the court-room. 

Chivey touched Murray on the arm, and both had an idea of sneakingaway. 

But the polite and attentive officer who had brought them back from therailway, stood in the doorway, and was evidently watching them. 

In fact, he spoke to them. 

"Things are getting interesting, gentlemen, " said he; "it was worthlosing a train to see such a dramatic trial as this promises to be. "

"Interferes with our business, rather. "

"Not so much, monsieur. But hush!"

The evidence of Pierre Lenoir was then taken. 

The public prosecutor objected at first to his evidence; but it wasurged by the counsel for the defence that although accused of manyoffences, he was at present convicted of none, and therefore wasentitled to full credence. 

"Your name is Pierre Lenoir?" asked Jack's counsel. 

"It is. "

"Do you know the prisoners?"

"But slightly. "

"Say when you met them. "

"I met them at my own house where they came by invitation to see somespecimens of my skill as a medal engraver. "

"Did those Englishmen assist you in any way to pass counterfeit coin?"

"Neither of those Englishmen; but that man did. "

And turning half round, he pointed at the wretched Murray, _alias_Markby. 

And at the same time the affable police officer drew nearer, smilingmore blandly than ever. 

"'Tis false!" shrieked the wretched Murray. 

"The public must maintain silence in the court, " said the judge. 

"It's a base lie!" exclaimed Murray. 

"The officer of the court will arrest the disorderly person. "

The smiling gendarme at once swooped down on his prey. 

"That man, " continued Lenoir, "not only passed bad money for me, but hepersuaded me that the prisoners would do so also. But when I introducedmyself and tried to get them to join me, they absolutely refused. "

The public prosecutor tried in vain to shake his story, but hepositively adhered to every word he had spoken. 

Then Harkaway senior was called upon, and he in conjunction with thebanker proved that there was no need whatever for the prisoners tocommit such an offence, as by simply signing his name young Jack coulddraw far more francs than the judge's yearly salary amounted to. 

The counsel for the defence then challenged the prosecution to produceany evidence that the prisoners had passed bad money, and the publicprosecutor was obliged to confess that he could not do so. 

Whereupon the judge remarked that the prosecution had utterly failed, and directed the prisoners to be discharged. 

But Lenoir and Murray were directed to be kept in separate cells tillthey could be tried, and Chivey was ordered like accommodation. 

And having now plenty of time for reflection, Herbert Murray sat withirons on his arms and legs, thinking dolefully over the past, andthinking whether, after all, honesty would not have proved the bestpolicy. 

CHAPTER CV. 

A LAST VIEW OF MURRAY AND CHIVEY. 

"Hurrah, dad!"

"Hurrah, my boy! Now, then, one and all. Hip, hip, hip----"

"Hurrah!"

The peal that burst from the throats of the reunited English partyfairly astonished the assembled crowd of citizens who were flocking outof the hall of justice. 

And then such a shaking of hands and kissing!

The latter form of insanity at length became infectious, and the twoblack imps Tinker and Bogey insisted on pressing a chaste salute on Mr. Mole's coy lips, to the intense amusement of the bystanders. 

"Get out, you black devils!" exclaimed he. 

"Why, Massa Mole, we been good friends dis long time in dat 'ere oleprison; you isn't a-gwine to turn round on de poor niggahs now we's gotout. "

"Get away. Never mind, don't get away; I'm not proud--hurrah!"

In his excitement Mr. Mole threw his battered hat a great height intothe air, but slipping while so doing, he sat down upon the pavementrather violently. 

"_Sac-r-r-r-ré!_ seize that old villain!"

The indignant command came from a mounted officer in charge of aconsiderable body of soldiers. 

While directing the movements of his men, drawn sword in hand, downcame Mole's _chapeau_ on the point of the deadly weapon, which wentthrough the crown, and the lining getting entangled with the hilt, itcould not be very readily moved. 

And, of course, the French spectators at once began laughing to see therather absurd situation of the officer. 

Mole would certainly have been dragged off again had not the Britishconsul once more interposed. 

"Monsieur le Colonel, I hasten to assure you that it was an accident, "he said. 

"I will not be insulted by accident; arrest him!"

"But consider, sir, you have no crime to urge against him. "

"Bah, what care I?"

"He will apologise. "

"Of course he will, " said Harvey, thinking it time to interpose. "Here, where are you, Mr. Mole?"

"Down here, sitting on the other end of me, " responded the ex-tutor invery doleful accents. 

"An apology!" said the excited officer, who had dismounted, and wasbrandishing his weapon as though about to sacrifice Mole. 

But poor Mole seemed altogether too confused to say the soothing wordsrequired, so the consul again interfered. 

"Really, Monsieur le Colonel, this poor gentleman seems to havesustained some severe injury. You will see he has lost both legs in aseries of heroic actions, the particulars of which I have not time togive you, but accept my assurance that the affair of the hat wasentirely an accident. "

"Lost legs in action! Ah, then it becomes my duty to apologise for thehasty language I have used to a brave soldier. "

As things were changing a little, Mole thought it time to becomeconscious, and with the aid of Tinker and Bogey, he struggled to hisfeet. 

"Monsieur, " continued the officer, "I withdraw my words. "

"Enough said, my dear sir, " responded Mole; "let the matter drop, Ipray. "

The officer gave a military salute, restored the perforated hat to itsowner, and rejoined his men. 

"Really imprisonment seems to have no effect on you, Mr. Mole, " saidHarvey; "you begin your old pranks the moment you are released. "

"What do you mean?"

"Why, you pass yourself off as an old soldier. "

"No, it was our good friend the consul. "

"Well, you allowed the colonel to deceive himself. "

"It's all the result of my really martial aspect, my dear boy. "

And Mole hobbled on, trying to sustain his military appearance. 

 * * * *

Our friends did not at once leave Marseilles. 

They were informed that perhaps they might be required to give evidenceagainst Murray, so they took up their residence in the best hotel ofthe place and waited, the elders of the party being perfectly contentnow that the youngsters had regained their liberty. 

However, as events turned out, they were not called upon to attend thetrial of the shipowner's son, as Monsieur Hocquart Clermont Delamarreand his assistants managed to pile up quite sufficient proof toconvince the judge of Herbert Murray's guilt. 

He, Lenoir, and Chivey, who certainly was not so deeply involved as hismaster, were sentenced to serve ten years each in the galleys. 

Lenoir's original sentence was fifteen years, but the promisedintercession of the consul was effectual in shortening it to ten. 

There was, however, another trial, at which young Jack and HarryGirdwood were requested to attend, and the prisoner in this case wasthe gaoler to whom they had entrusted their letters to the consul. 

He being clearly convicted of receiving bribes from prisoners, wassentenced to two years' imprisonment, and so retires from the scene. 

Young Jack, his parents, Harry Girdwood, Harvey, little Emily, andPaquita were taking a walk in the neighborhood of the harbour onemorning, when they became aware of a very dismal-looking processioncoming down the road from the prison. 

First of all came half a dozen soldiers, trailing their rifles, whichwere evidently loaded and ready for instant use. 

Then, in single file, about a yard behind each other, and every manwith his right leg attached by a ring to a long chain that extended theentire length of the party, came ten men clad in garments of verycoarse serge, and with closely-cropped heads. 

The instant he saw them in the distance, young Jack guessed what itmeant, and pointed the gang out to the others. 

"Let us get away if we can, " said he. 

"Why?" asked Harvey. 

"Because it will look as though we came here simply to gloat over theirdisgrace, " replied Jack. 

"Right, my boy. "

But there was no way of avoiding them, as there was no turning out ofthe street, and all the house doors were closed, so they were compelledto see all. 

First of all came seven of the lowest-looking ruffians in creation, villains whose countenances were expressive of nothing but brutalityand vice; the eighth was Chivey, whose cheeks bore traces of tears, andthe ninth was Pierre Lenoir, who walked erect and proud as Lucifer, except when he made a half turn about as though he would like tostrangle Herbert Murray, who walked with tottering steps at the end ofthe chain. 

"Poor fellows!" said Mrs. Harkaway. 

"They deserve it, " exclaimed her husband and Harvey, simultaneously. "They tried to get our boys the very punishment that has overtakenthem. "

Our friends, however, had seen enough, and did not care to witness whatfollowed. 

If they had gone inside the harbour gates, they might have seen threeor four very long sharp-bowed vessels moored to the quay or lying atanchor a little way out. 

Neither mast nor sail had these vessels, but from each side projected adozen or more of gigantic oars larger than those used by Thamesbargemen. 

Had they gone down to the harbour they would presently have seenchained up, two of them to each oar, but with their feet so far atliberty that they could move backwards and forwards three paces. 

Then they would have heard the word of command given, and would haveseen the poor slaves tugging away at the oars till the huge craft wassweeping rapidly out to sea, while the galley-master walking up anddown between the two rows of oarsmen, gave blows of his whip on theright hand or the left when he saw a man flagging, or an oar that didnot swing in unison with the rest. 

Such was the fate to which the career of crime had brought the son ofthe once respected shipowner Murray. 

Slavery from morn till night, beneath a broiling sun, or exposed tocold, rain, and hail, the coarsest of black bread and lentil pottage, formed his scanty meal; his associates the lowest type of humanity. 

And even over and above such a hard lot there fell upon his heart thecraven fear some day that Lenoir, who was chained to the next oar, would break loose and kill him. 

Many would have preferred death to such slavery, but Herbert Murrayfeared to die. 

"Hollo, Englishman, faster!" the galley-master would shout. And thenhis whip or cane would sharply visit poor Murray's shoulders. 

And the chuckling voice of Lenoir would be heard, exclaiming--

"Ah, traitor! this is nothing to what you will suffer when I have mychance for revenge. "

CHAPTER CVI. 

TERRIBLE RAILWAY ACCIDENT. 

Three days after Murray and Chivey embarked on their dreary voyage theHarkaway party quitted Marseilles. 

The waiter and the diver, so long young Jack's companions in adventure, preferred remaining at Marseilles. 

They had no home ties, and had so long been accustomed to a wanderingContinental life, that they had no great desire to settle down quietlyin England. 

However, Harkaway senior made them a handsome present each, and he alsopresented Monsieur Hocquart Clermont Delamarre with a very substantialproof of his esteem and gratitude, and the detective was furthergratified by receiving from the two young ladies, Paquita and Emily, ahandsomely-mounted _carte de visite_ portrait. 

"And now for home!" exclaimed our young hero. 

"You will be sorry when you get there, won't you?" said Emily. 

"No, dear; why should I be?"

"Because in England you can't go on as you have been doing, runningaway with fair Circass----"

There was nobody looking, so Jack took the liberty of cutting thereproach short with a kiss. 

"You must not say any thing more about that, dear Emily; and, afterall, I don't think you would have approved of my leaving her to themercy of those Turks. "

"That I should not, Jack. "

The youth then handed his young sweetheart into one of the vehicles inwaiting, and off they started for the railway, where they found theyhad to wait ten minutes. 

To occupy the time they strolled up and down the platform. 

Suddenly Harry Girdwood exclaimed--

"Why, where is Mr. Mole? Did he come in your carriage, Jack?"

"No; I thought he was with you. "

"Left behind, by Jove!" exclaimed Harvey. 

"Serve him right if I left him behind entirely, " said Harkaway senior, rather angrily. 

He was on the point of sending one of the porters back to the hotel, when Mr. Mole appeared. 

Now there were two things that had delayed him. 

One was that on the very morning Mr. Mole had mounted a new pair ofartificial legs made by the very best surgical instrument maker inMarseilles. 

Some time had been taken over the proper adjustment of these. 

For the second reason--Mr. Mole had discovered that the hotel cellarscontained some excellent brandy, and he had been taking a parting glasswith the Irish diver before commencing his journey. 

And as he now made his appearance on the railway platform, he was anything but steady on his new legs. 

"Better late than never, Mr. Mole, " said Harvey. 

"I am not late. "

"Yes, sir. Two minutes more, and the train will be here. "

An engine was in fact at that moment shunting some carriages which wereto be attached to the train. 

Mr. Mole turned on hearing the noise of the approaching locomotive. 

But being, as aforesaid, slightly unsteady on his legs, he fell. 

Fell right across the metals. 

"Oh! help!" he cried. 

But before anyone could stir, the engine was upon him. 

The porters shouted, the ladies screamed with fright. 

"Oh, Heaven! is it not horrible?" exclaimed a French man. "Did you nothear the bones crash as the wheels went over his legs?"

"Over his legs, " shouted Harvey. "Ha, ha! if that is all, it does notmatter much. "

The engine stopped, and Mole was rescued from his perilous position. 

He had fainted, but a glass of water restored him. 

"Are you hurt, old man?" asked Dick. 

"No; I think not. It's only my legs, nothing else. "

"Great Heaven, what a narrow escape!"

"So it is; but here is a nuisance, both my legs cut clean off, sixinches above the ankle. "

"Here, porter, put this gentleman in a first-class carriage, " saidHarkaway senior. 

"But, monsieur, he must be taken to the hospital; the surgeon is closeat hand. "

"Doctor be hanged! This gentleman must go to Paris by the next train. "

The porters, being evidently unwilling to touch Mr. Mole, Harkawaysaid--

"Here, lend a hand, old man. "

"All right, " responded Harvey. 

The pair of them immediately hoisted Mr. Mole into the carriage, theothers took their seats, the engineer blew his whistle, and off theywent. 

To complete the horror of the spectators, who admired Mole's fortitude, and loathed the apparent barbarity of his friends, as the train wasmoving off, Harvey was plainly seen to cut off the old gentleman'sshattered limbs, and pitch them into some empty goods waggons that weregoing in another direction. 

"What horrid barbarians!" was the general exclamation of the bewilderedspectators of the strange scene. 

"A pretty object you have made of me certainly, " grumbled Mole, lookingdown at his curtailed legs. 

"Your own fault, Mr. Mole, " responded Harvey. 

"Lucky it was not your head, Mr. Mole, " said young Jack. 

"You are all against me, I see, but it does not matter. "

So saying, Mole took out his pocket flask and was about to refreshhimself. 

But Harkaway senior, stretching out his hand, took the flask. 

"No, Mr. Mole; if you have any more, I fear we shall have a moreserious accident. So not a drop till the first time we stop. "

"Why, this is a mail train, and only stops about every two hours. "

"And I am quite sure you can exist without brandy for that littletime. "

"Well, I suppose I may smoke then?"

"Certainly; you shall have one of my best regalias. "

Mr. Mole took the weed, and puffed away rather sulkily. 

They had got about eight miles from Marseilles when suddenly the engineslackened speed, and the train drew up at a little roadside station. 

"What does this mean?" said Harvey. "We ought not to stop here. "

"This is our first stopping place, however, so I'll trouble you for myflask, according to promise, " said Mole, with a beaming countenance. 

Harkaway handed it over and was settling back again when he heard apolice official asking--

"Where is the gentleman who was run over at Marseilles?"

"Here, " said Harkaway. 

The gendarme ran to the spot, and to his intense surprise saw thevictim of the accident in the act of taking a hearty drink from hisbrandy flask while his left hand held a lighted cigar. 

"What do you want?" demanded Mole. 

"The officials at Marseilles, unable to stop the train, telegraphed tome to see that you had proper medical attendance. "

"Ha, ha, ha! look here, old boy; I always carry my own physic. Tasteit. "

The officer took the flask, and finding that the smell was familiar, applied it to his lips. 

"The fact is, " said Harkaway, "the gentleman was wearing wooden legs, and they only were damaged. "

"Indeed; then you think that you are able to proceed on your journey, sir?"

"Yes, if you will leave me some of my medicine. "

The gendarme bowed, handed back the flask, and the train rolled away. 

CHAPTER CVII. 

A DUEL. 

"Paris at last, " exclaimed Harvey. 

"That's a good job, for I am tired of sitting, and want to stretch mylegs; don't you, Mr. Mole?" said young Jack. 

"Don't be ridiculous, Jack, " replied Mr. Mole. 

Harkaway senior, who had been looking out of the window, drew in hishead and said--

"Well, Mr. Mole, you are in a nice fix. "

"How?"

"I don't see any----"

"Any what?"

"Any cabs. "

"The ----"

"Don't swear. "

"My dear Mr. Harkaway, now if you were without legs, would not youswear?"

"Can't say, having the proper number of pins. "

"You'll have to walk, " said Harvey. "There's not a cab in the station. "

"But how can I walk?"

"Don't you remember the hero in the ballad of Chevy Chase?"

"Who was he?"

"The song says Witherington, but we will call him Mole. "

 "'For Mole, indeed, my heart is woe, As one in doleful dumps; For when his feet were cut away, He walked upon his stumps. '"

By this time the train had stopped, and all the party got out, exceptMole. 

As Harkaway had said, there was no vehicle in the station nor outsideof it, so Mr. Mole was obliged to remain till his friends could hitupon some plan for removing him. 

A porter was the first to make a suggestion. 

"An artificial limb maker lives opposite, monsieur, " said he. 

"Ah!"

"If I carried monsieur over, he might have some--ah--substitutes fittedon. "

"A capital idea!" exclaimed Harvey; "over with him. " And before Molecould remonstrate, he was hoisted to the porter's shoulders, andtrotted across the street. 

Great was the joy of the Parisian _gamins_ at having such a sightprovided for their amusement. 

Mole, however, bravely bore the chaff, half of which he did notunderstand. 

The maker of artificial limbs soon fitted poor Mole with a pair oflegs. 

But alas!

No sooner had he stood upon them than his friends burst out in a loudlaugh. 

"What is the matter with you?" demanded Mr. Mole, who felt inclined tostand on his dignity as well as on his new legs. 

"Ha, ha, ha!"

"I wonder you don't remember what Goldsmith says, " continued Mole. 

"What does he say, Mr. Mole?"

"Don't you remember that line about 'the loud laugh that speaks thevacant mind. ' I fear your mind must be very vacant, Mr. Harvey. "

"He had you there, Uncle Dick, " said young Jack. 

"Pooh! But look at his legs. "

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed young Jack in turn. 

Mr. Mole's trousers, it will be recollected, had been cut away belowthe knees immediately after his railway accident, and now he stood in apair of nicely-varnished boots, above which could be seen the varioussprings and hinges of his mechanical limbs. 

The trouser legs were not longer in proportion than a small boy'sknickerbockers. 

By this time, however, a cab or two had turned up, and, the ladieshaving been fetched from the railway waiting-room, the whole partyproceeded to one of the many good hotels Paris possesses. 

 * * * *

The third evening after their arrival, young Jack and Harry Girdwoodstrolled out together. 

They no doubt would have enjoyed the company of the two girls, butlittle Emily and Paquita had been roving about the town all day long, and were too tired to go out that evening. 

"What is this place, Jack?" asked Harry, as they both paused in frontof a narrow, but brilliantly-lighted doorway. 

"A shooting gallery, I fancy. "

"Shall we go in?"

"Certainly; but I don't fancy the French are very great 'shootists, ' asthe Yankees say. "

"All the more fun, perhaps. "

And without more talk, the youngsters walked in. 

It was a long room, divided by slight partitions into four differentgalleries, and at the end of each of these was a target in the shape ofa doll. 

After watching others for a time, Harry took half a dozen shots at oneof the figures, which he struck four times. 

Young Jack then tried, and was equally successful. 

"Good shooting, young gentlemen, " said one of the spectators, anEnglishman; "but if you want to see real pistol practice, look at thisFrenchman. "

And he pointed to a tall, dark man who was just preparing to fire. 

The target he had before him was not a little doll like the others, buta full-sized lay figure dressed in black, closely buttoned up, andholding in its hand an empty pistol pointed towards the live shooter. 

"He is a noted duellist, " said the Englishman, "and has killed morethan one adversary. "

Jack and Harry looked at him with considerable curiosity, with whichwas mixed a tinge of loathing. 

The duellist had brought his own pistols, one of which he carefullyloaded, and having placed himself in position, rapidly aimed and fired. 

Instantly the lay figure showed a spot of white on its black coat, which, after all, was only made of a kind of paste or varnish, whichchipped off when struck by the bullet. 

"Straight to the heart, " said the Englishman. 

"That's good shooting, " exclaimed Harry Girdwood. 

The Frenchman fired again, making an equally good shot. 

When he had fired ten, young Jack for the first time broke silence. 

"I don't believe he could do that in the field with a live adversaryand a loaded pistol opposite him. "

The Frenchman again pulled the trigger, but the eleventh shot flew wideof the mark. 

Almost foaming with passion at having missed his aim, he dashed theweapon to the ground. 

"I must request the gentleman who spoke to stand the test. "

"With great pleasure, " responded Jack, coolly. 

The Frenchman stared at the speaker. 

"Bah! I don't fight with boys. "

"Then I shall proclaim to all Paris that you are a cur, and try to backout of a quarrel when your challenge is accepted. "

"Very well, then, you shall die in the morning. Henri, "--this to afriend--"arrange with the English boy's second if he has one; if he hasnot, find him one. "

The Englishman who had previously spoken at once stepped forward andoffered his services. 

"Although, " said he, "I should much prefer to see this affair settledpeacefully. "

"I am entirely in your hands, sir, " responded Jack. 

And he retired to the other side of the room. 

"Jack, Jack! what demon possessed you to get into such a mess?"

"No demon, Harry, but some of my father's hot blood. He was always veryprompt to accept a challenge. "

"He will not let you fight. "

"He will not know till it is settled. Listen to me, Harry, if you tellhim or anyone else, or try to stop the plan that my second may propose, I swear I'll never speak to you again. "

"But you stand every chance of being killed. "

"Harry, we have both of us faced death many times, and I am sure I amnot going to turn my back on a Frenchman. "

Poor Harry could say nothing more. 

The Englishman rejoined them. 

"I can't get that fellow to accept an apology----!"

"That's right, " interposed Jack. 

His second looked surprised at the youth's coolness, and continued--

"So I must parade you in the Bois de Boulogne at sunrise. It's about anhour's drive. "

"Where shall we meet you?"

The second hesitated, and then named a time and place. 

"Now, " said Jack, "I will go and have a little sleep; not at home, butsomewhere in this neighbourhood. "

They went to a respectable hotel close by, and Jack, having made a fewsimple arrangements (including a message to Emily), in case of beingkilled, laid himself on his bed, and was soon slumbering peacefully. 

 * * * *

About a quarter of an hour after the sun had risen, they were all uponthe ground. 

Jack and Harry with their second, and the Frenchman with his. 

There was also a surgeon present. 

Little time was lost. 

The pistols were loaded, according to previous arrangement between thetwo seconds, with a lighter charge than usual, so that Jack mightpossibly escape with only a flesh wound instead of having a holedrilled right through him. 

The combatants were then placed half facing each other, fifteen pacesapart. 

"There is a grave suspicion afloat that your adversary has an uglyknack of pulling the trigger half a second too soon, " whispered Jack'ssecond, "so I am going to give him a caution. "

A pistol was placed in the hand of each, and then Jack's second spoke. 

"Listen, gentlemen. You will fire when I give the word three. If eitherpulls the trigger before that word is pronounced, it will be murder. "

He looked at the Frenchman, and then counted--

"One, two, three!"

But before the word "three" had fully passed his lips, the Frenchman'spistol was discharged. 

Young Jack, however, prepared for such a trick, had just a momentbefore turned full towards him and stared him in the face. 

This manoeuvre was entirely successful. 

The Frenchman's unfair, murderous aim was disconcerted, and his bulletwhistled harmlessly past our hero's ear. 

Jack then deliberately levelled his pistol at the Frenchman, whotrembled violently, and showed every symptom of the most abject terror. 

"I thought so, " exclaimed Jack. "A vile coward as well as a murderer. "

And he discharged his own pistol in the air. 

"Why did you not shoot the villain?" exclaimed Harry Girdwood, thesurgeon, and Jack's second simultaneously. 

"It would be doing him too much honour, gentlemen. I leave him to thehangman. "

"You should have killed him, " growled the surgeon, glancing after thediscomfited duellist, who was sneaking off, unattended even by his ownsecond. 

"I don't feel bloodthirsty just at present, and I have proved the wordsthat gave rise to the challenge. "

"That is true, but some other poor devil may not be so lucky. "

"I fancy after this morning's _exposé_ anyone may refuse to go out withhim without fear of dishonour. "

"True; that is one good thing. "

They re-entered their carriage and returned to Paris. 

Just as young Jack alighted from the vehicle, he found himself seizedby the collar and shaken violently. 

He turned hastily. 

"Dad!"

"You young rascal!" exclaimed Harkaway senior, "where have you been allnight?"

"Why--I--I arranged to go out early in the morning for a drive withthis gentleman and Harry, so I took a room here at this hotel so as tobe close to the rendezvous. "

"That is the truth, but not all the truth. Sir, may I ask you theobject of your very early excursion with my son?"

"Well, sir, the fact is, this young gentleman became involved lastnight in a little dispute which necessitated an exchange of pistolshots, and your son, I must say, behaved in a most gallant manner. "

"Not touched, Jack?"

"No, dad. "

"Did you shoot t'other fellow?"

"No, father; I only shoot game--human or brute. I leave gamekeepers andhangmen to exterminate vermin. "

"Well, now, cut along home. Your mother is in no end of a funk aboutyou. "

 * * * *

So Jack went home, and, having explained the reason of his absence, wassoon forgiven by all, except little Emily, who boxed his ears, declaring it was evident he did not care about her, or he would nothave risked his life in such a manner. 

Then she refused, for a whole hour, to speak to him; at the expirationof which time she kissed him, and asked his pardon for having shownsuch bad temper. 

"All right, Em. You're a brick. "

"Don't talk slang, sir. "

 * * * *

That same evening they left Paris, and at an early hour the nextmorning were in London. 

CHAPTER CVIII. 

"LAST SCENE OF ALL, THAT ENDS THIS STRANGE, EVENTFUL HISTORY. "

"Jack. "

"Yes, father. "

"What do you think you are going to be? I mean what business orprofession?"

This conversation took place about a week after their return toEngland. 

"Would you like to be a doctor or a lawyer, or become a great financierin the City?" continued Harkaway senior. 

"Neither of those, thank you. I have been too much used to plenty offresh air and exercise to settle down to an indoor occupation; the seais my choice. "

"It is not your mother's choice, so you may just give up that notion atonce and for ever. "

"Well, next to that I should like to have a nice compact farm of aboutsix hundred acres in a part of the country where there is goodshooting, hunting and fishing. "

"Ah, that's better. "

"Then we'll consider that settled, dad. "

"Yes; but you must finish your education first; that has been muchneglected. "

So the result was that both young Jack and Harry Girdwood were sent toreside for a year with a clergyman, who was also a farmer, and, whoundertook, while improving their general education, to give them apractical knowledge of agriculture. 

 * * * *

The year passed away, and the two young men returned home for a briefholiday before settling down, for Harry was also to be a farmer, DickHarvey having undertaken to put him into a farm. 

They were sitting at breakfast one morning when two letters werebrought, both with foreign postmarks. 

Harkaway senior opened them. 

"This concerns you, my dear, " said he to Paquita. 

"How so?" asked the girl. 

"It is from your father. And you must prepare to hear bad news. "

"He is dead! he is dead!" she exclaimed, bursting into tears. 

When some time had passed, she was calmed sufficiently to hear theletter read. 

It was a deathbed letter, in which the writer stated that, rememberingthe noblehearted Englishman, Harkaway, he appointed him sole trustee ofhis wealth, to be given as a marriage portion to Paquita. 

Documents were enclosed to put Harkaway in possession of the writer'sriches and he concluded by praying Heaven to bless his daughter. 

A postscript was added in a different hand. 

 "The writer of this died on the 4th of April last, the day after he signed this letter and the enclosed documents which are witnessed by me. "

 "ANTONIO DELAVAT, Surgeon. "

Paquita's grief at the death of her father was great, but in littleEmily and Mrs. Harkaway she found two comforters who did their best toassuage her sorrows. 

 * * * *

But the other letter. 

"Why, this is from our old Australian friend, Rook!" exclaimedHarkaway. 

"Rook!"

"Yes. And this is what Rook has to say for himself. 

"'If ever a man had reason to be grateful to another, surely I havecause to bless the day I met you. For thanks to you, I am no longer anoutcast, but have atoned for the past--aye, and refunded with interestthat sum of money which was the cause of my being sent here. Throughyour kindness I was enabled to go into business as a farmer, and I haveprospered so that I am now one of the richest men in this part ofAustralia; but I owe all my prosperity to you, so I will not boast ofit. Being better educated than many of the settlers, I have beenappointed magistrate for the district; but whenever I can be lenientwithout being unjust, I humble myself, remember what I once was, andtry to give the culprit another chance. Heaven has greatly prosperedme, and I pray that Heaven's blessings may rest on you and yours. '"

"Bravo, Rook!" said Harvey and Harry Girdwood. 

 * * * *

"What are you thinking about, Jack!" asked Harry, a day or two after. 

"About old Mole. "

"What about him?"

"Why, we haven't had a good lark with him since we left Marseilles. "

"True. "

"The old man will get rusty if we don't wake him up a little. "

"Well, what is your idea?"

"Haven't any at the present; but something will turn up. "

And something did turn up that very day. 

Now it should be known that Mole, although he passed the greater timewith his old friends, had taken a small cottage close by so that hemight not entirely wear out their hospitality. 

He generally slept there, but spent his days with the Harkaways. 

Jack and Harry called upon the old man, and were admitted to hispresence, as he was putting the finishing touches to his toilet. 

This consisted in anointing his bald head with some wonderful fluid, warranted to produce a luxuriant growth of hair. 

This gave the youths an idea, and having invited him to dinner, theydeparted to carry out their joke. 

All passed off pleasantly during the evening, but Jack and Harry wereabsent about an hour. During that time they procured access to Mole'spremises, and having emptied his bottle of hair restorer, filled thephial with liquid glue, after which they returned to the house. 

"I must go early, " said Mr. Mole, rising. "I have to attend court as ajuryman in the morning. "

"Then you won't be able to dress your hair properly, " said Jack. 

"Oh, yes; I shall put on a good dose before I leave home, that willlast till evening, " replied Mole. 

He went home, but overslept himself, and had to dress in a hurry. 

Mole had got to the door, when he remembered the hair restorer, andgoing back, applied a plentiful dose with a sponge. 

He reached the court very hot. 

By that time the glue had set, and he found he could not remove hishat. 

"Isaac Mole!" shouted the official who was calling the jury. 

"Here!" replied Mole, as he rushed to the box. 

A murmur of astonishment was heard. 

"Hats off in court!" shouted the usher. 

"Really, I----"

"Everyone must be uncovered in court. "

"But, I assure you, I can't----"

"Are you a Quaker?" demanded the judge. 

"No; but I wish to explain that I kept my hat on because----"

"I can not listen to any excuse except the one I mentioned. Take offyour hat instantly. "

"But I say I kept it on because----"

"This is intolerable. Do you mean to insult the court! Take your hatoff instantly, or I will fine you for contempt. "

"Well, I must say it's hard I can't say a word. "

"You are fined five pounds, and if you don't remove your hat----"

"I want to explain. "

"Officer, remove that man's hat. "

The tipstaff approached Mole and hit the offending hat with his stick, but it did not move. 

Then he struck it harder, and the crown went in. 

"This is too bad!" screamed Mole. 

But the tipstaff was wroth, and picking up a large law book smashed itflat. 

This was too much for Mole. 

"You mutton-headed idiot, if you and the judge had a particle of sense, you would know that I did not remove my hat, because I couldn't. It isglued on. "

Mole, however, was led away in custody and a fresh juryman sworn. 

But Jack and Harry, who had been highly amused spectators, thought thejoke had gone far enough, so they tipped a solicitor through whom anexplanation was made, and Mole was released. He also got off serving onthe jury. 

They left the court together. 

But another surprise was in store for them. 

"How are you, gentlemen?" said a very familiar voice, and, lo! Figginsthe orphan stood before them. 

Figgins had not remained in Marseilles like the others, and therefore, had escaped being arrested for counterfeit coining. 

He reached London in safety, and having taken the upper part of a housewithin half a mile of St. Paul's Cathedral, resolved never more totrust himself beyond the City boundaries. 

Yet, in his retirement, his conscience pricked him for having left sohurriedly the friends who had rescued him from many a danger. 

And Mole, too, his own particular travelling companion. 

"I must go and see him once more, " thought the orphan. 

So one fine day he plucked up courage to venture a short journey on anEnglish railway, and knowing where the elder Harkaway lived, wasspeedily instructed how to find Mole. 

So now behold him shaking hands all round. 

"I thought I must see you once more, " said he, "but it is a greatundertaking, you know, for my travels made me more timid than ever Iwas. "

"Timid?" ejaculated Mole; "why, on one or two occasions you displayedbravery almost equal to my own. "

"Mildly, Mr. Mole, " said Jack. 

"Ah, Mr. Harkaway, you three gentlemen are brave men, but I am only apoor timid orphan. "

"That need not make you timid. "

"But it does. So I have resolved never to trust myself out of Londonagain. "

"Then I am afraid we shall not meet very often, Mr. Figgins, " saidMole, "for I, you know, hate town life. "

"If you do come to town, though, you will call?"

"Certainly. "

"Then, gentlemen, I will wish you farewell. I am deeply grateful forall you did when we were abroad----"

"Don't mention it. "

"Mr. Mole, farewell. You know I feel more like an orphan than ever nowI am parting from you. "

"Don't talk like that, Figgins, " said Mole. 

"I can't help it, indeed, I can't. Farewell, my dear friend, farewell!"

And Figgins retired to his City home, where he still lives, though heis getting very feeble. 

Still, he brightens up whenever he speaks of his old friend andtravelling companion, Mole. 

 * * * *

It is hard to part with old friends, but the decrees of fate cannot beavoided, so we must conclude our story. 

It will be hardly necessary, we fancy, to inform our readers that youngJack eventually married little Emily, and Harry Girdwood led Paquita tothe altar. 

And as weddings are very much alike, we will not describe the ceremony, but content ourselves with saying that as much happiness as this worldcan afford was and is theirs. 

Jack and Harry have extensive farms near each other, and are wealthycountry gentlemen. 

They are fond of outdoor sports, and have recently established a packof harriers, Tinker and Bogey being respectively first and secondwhips. In each establishment there was formerly a room kept alwaysready for Mr. Mole, who went from one to the other as it pleased him, sure of a hearty welcome always. 

But, alas! poor Mole is now no more. 

Age preyed on his shaken body, and at length laid him on his deathbed. 

Even then he could not help referring to the matrimonial portion of hislife. 

"I have been too much married, Jack. I am 'a wictim to connubiality, 'if I may be allowed to quote Sam Weller; but never again, dear boy. "

And when only half conscious, he would repeat--"Never again, dear boy, "expressing his firm determination not to marry again. 

Poor Mole!

After all, he ended his days in peace, and died regretted by all hisfriends, who, if they had laughed at his failings, also remembered hiskindly disposition. 

He left behind him sufficient of this world's goods to enable hisfaithful Chloe to give the twins a good education. 

They are now rollicking schoolboys, but will have a fair start whentheir guardians, Jack and Harry, fancy they are fitted to begin theirbattle with life. 

 * * * *

Old Jack--he is getting old now--lives with Emily not far from his son, and with them, of course, is Dick Harvey. 

Often on a fine day Old Jack will lead his grandchildren to the villagechurchyard, and while the youngsters deck poor old Mole's grave withflowers, will relate to them the best incidents of the old man's life. 

Not far from poor Mole's grave is another tomb, in which rest theearthly remains of Monday, Prince of Limbi, who had grown grey in theservice of Mr. Harkaway. 

A much severer winter than usual laid the seeds of a complaint whichspeedily carried him off. 

Sunday, whose head is fast becoming white as snow, took his death muchto heart, and even now frequently strolls into the quiet churchyard toindulge in pensive recollections of his old friend by the side of hisgrave--aye, and perchance to reflect on his own end, which he knowsfull well must be fast approaching. 

Monday had been thrifty, and when the days of mourning were over, hiswidow retired to Oxford to pass the remainder of her days with manygood presents from Jack Harkaway, given in remembrance of his faithfulservant Monday, the Prince of Limbi. 

 * * * *

Readers, our tale is told; and we leave Harkaway to the repose he hasso well earned. 

But if you would prosper as he has done, be like him, truthful, brave, and generous. 

In bringing to a conclusion the long series of Harkaway stories, Mr. Edwin J. Brett cannot let the occasion pass without thanking thereaders for the patience with which they have followed the hero'scareer, and the praise they have always bestowed upon the story orstories. 

To invent the plot and incidents has been a labour of love on the partof Mr. E. J. Brett, and it seems now like parting from old and intimatefriends, to say adieu to all the characters whose lives have been thesubject of the story. But there must be an end to all things, even toHarkaway. 

THE END.