"Of course I shall hear it," said Humphrey, excitedly.
"Thin, that's the signal, sor; and when it goes fizz, lie riddy and wait till I kim to ye, and thin good bye to the rover's loife, and Black Mazzard will see the darlin' no more. Whisht!"
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.
THE EXPLOSION.
A fortnight passed, during which the buccaneer visited his prisoner twice, as if to give him an opportunity to speak, but each time in company with Bart.
Both were very quiet and stern, and but few words were said. Everything was done to make the prisoner's condition more endurable, but the attentions now were irksome; and though Humphrey Armstrong lay listening for footsteps with the greatest anxiety, those which came down the corridor were not those he wished to hear.
At last, in the continuous absence of Dinny, he began to dread that the last conversation had been heard, and after fighting down the desire for a fortnight, he determined to risk exciting suspicion and ask Bart what had become of the Irishman.
Bart entered the place soon after he had come to the determination, bringing an Indian basket of fruit--the pleasant little grapes that grew wild in the sunny parts, and the succulent banana. These he placed upon the stone table in company with a bunch of flowers, where they looked like some offering made to the idol upon whose altar they had been placed.
Humphrey hesitated with the words upon his lips, and checked himself.
If Dinny had been overheard and were imprisoned or watched, what good would he do? Better wait and bear the suspense.
"Your gift?" he said, aloud, taking up the flowers and smelling them, for the soft delicate blooms of the forest orchids suggested a room in Saint James's Square and a daintily-dressed lady who was bemoaning his absence.
"Mine? No. The captain picked them himself," said Bart, bitterly.
Humphrey laid them down and took up one of the long, yellow-skinned fruits, Bart watching his action, regarding the fruit with jealous eyes.
Humphrey turned sharply round to hide his face from his jailer, for he had changed colour. A spasm shot through him, and for the moment he felt as if he must betray himself, for as he turned over the banana in his fingers, they touched a roughening of the under part, and the next instant he saw that the fruit he held had been partly cut away with the point of a knife, so that a figure had been carved in the soft rind, and this could only have been the work of one hand, and intended as a signal to him that he was not forgotten. For the figure cut in the rind was that of a shamrock--a trefoil with its stalk.
He hastily tore off the rind in tiny strips and ate the fruit, but the soft, creamy pulp seemed like ashes, and his throat was dry, as he completely destroyed all trace of the cutting on the rind and threw it aside.
Noting that Bart was watching him narrowly, he hurriedly picked up one of the little bunches of grapes and began eating them as if suffering from thirst. Then forcing himself to appear calm he lay down upon the couch till Bart had finished his customary attentions and gone.
Night at last--a moonless night--that would have been dusk on the open shore, but there in the forest beneath the interlacing trees it was absolutely black; and after watching at his window for hours, with every sense upon the strain, he reluctantly came to the conclusion that no attempt would be made, Dinny either not being prepared--though his signal seemed to be to indicate readiness for the night though suitable for concealment, being too obscure for his purpose.
"One of them might have managed to come and give me a word," he said, fretfully, as at last, weary of watching the scintillations of the fireflies in a distant opening, he threw himself upon his couch to try and sleep, feeling that he would be wakeful all night, when all at once, just as he felt most troubled, his eyes closed, and he was deep in a dreamless sleep, lost to everything but the terrific roar which suddenly burst forth, following a vivid flash as of lightning, and as, confused and half-stunned, Humphrey started up, all idea of the proposed escape seemed to have passed away, and he sat watching for the next flash, listening for the next peal, thinking that this was a most terrific storm.
No flash--no peal--but a confused buzz of voices and the distant pattering of feet, while a dense, dank odour of exploded gunpowder penetrated the forest, and entered the window close to which the prisoner sat.
"Dinny--the escape!" he cried, excitedly, as he sprang from his bed, for now a flash did come with almost blinding force; but it was a mental flash, which left him quivering with excitement, as he sprang to the curtained corridor and listened there.
A step!--Dinny's! Yes, he knew it well! It was coming along the great stone passage!
"Quick! we shall easily get away, for they'll all crowd about the captain, asking him what to do."
Dinny led on rapidly till they reached the turning in the direction of the old temple which contained the cenote. Here they struck off to the left, and found, as they cleared the narrow forest path, that the odour of the exploded gunpowder was almost overpowering.
Not a hundred yards away voices were heard speaking rapidly, and directly after they were silent, and the captain's words rang out plainly as he gave orders to his people, though their import was not clear from the distance where the fugitives crept along by the edge of the ruins.
"Are you sure you are right?" whispered Humphrey.
"Roight, sor; I niver was more so. Whisht! Are ye there?"
"Yes, yes," came from down by the side of a great wall. "Oh, Dinny, I was afraid you were killed!"
"Kilt! Nay, my darling, there's a dale o' loife in me yet. Tak' howlt o' me hand, one on each side, and walk quick and shteady, and I'll have ye down by the say shore, where the boat is waiting, before ye know where ye are."
They started off at a sharp walk, pausing at times to listen to the jargon of excited voices behind, but rapidly advancing, on the whole, toward their goal.
"Do--do you think we can escape?" said the woman, panting with fear.
"An' is it eshcape, whin the boat's waiting, and everything riddy?" said Dinny scornfully. "Dyer hear her, sor? What a woman it is!"
The woman sighed as if not hopeful, and Dinny added an encouraging word:
"Sure an' the captain says he'll tak' care of us, darlin', and avore long we'll be sailing away over the salt say. It's a white sail I've got in the boat, and--"
"Hist, Dinny, you're talking too loudly, my man!" whispered Humphrey.
"Bedad and I am, sor. It's that owld sarpint of a tongue o' mine. Bad luck to it for being given me wrong. Faix and it belonged to some woman by rights."
They pressed on, and at the end of what seemed to be an interminably long time, Humphrey whispered:
"Are we near the sea?"
"Close to it now, sor. If it was Oireland ye'd hear the bating of the waves upon the shore; but they're too hot and wake in this counthry to do more than give a bit of a lap on the sands."
Another weary length of time passed, and still the sea-shore was not reached, but they were evidently near now, for the dull murmur of the billows in the sheltered gulf was plainly to be heard; and Mistress Greenheys, who, in spite of her bravery and decision, had begun to utter a low hysterical sob from time to time and hang more heavily upon her companions' arms, took courage at the thought of the safety the sea offered, and pressed sturdily forward for another few hundred yards and then stopped short.
"What is it, darlin'?" whispered Dinny.
"Voices!" she replied softly.
"Yes; our own," said Dinny. "There can't be anny others here."
"Hist!" ejaculated Humphrey. "Is there any other way down to the beach?"
"Divil a bit, sor, that we could foind, and the boat's yander, close inshore."
He took a step or two in advance, and listened.
"I am sure I heard whispering," said Humphrey; but all was still now, and feeling satisfied at last that it was the murmur of the waves, they crept on in utter silence, and were about to leave the shelter of the path by which they had come and make for the open sand when Dinny checked his companions, and they all stood listening, for a voice that was familiar said:
"The skipper's full of fancies. He hasn't been right since this captain was made prisoner, and he has been worse since the other prisoners escaped."
"Other prisoners! What prisoners?" thought Humphrey.
"You hold your tongue!" growled the familiar voice of Bart. "Do you want to scare them off?"
"Scare whom off?"