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Updated: June 20, 2025
Yer must excuse haste." It was the voice of Lincoln. "Ha! in the timber? Safe, then!" ejaculated I in return. "Two or three wounded not bad neither. Chane has got a stab in the hip he gin the feller goss for it. Let me louze the darned thing off o' your neck. It kum mighty near chokin' yer, Cap'n."
And thus have zee herd, whi he is clept the grete Chane. Of the governance of the grete Chanes Court, and whan he makethe solempne Festes. Of his Philosophres. And of his Array, whan he riddethe be the contre.
"Oh! the Cap'n manes the skilleton, maybe," said Chane. "What skeleton?" I demanded. "Why, an owld skilleton the boys found in the chaparril, yer honner. They hung it to a three; and we found yer honner there, with the skilleton swinging over ye like a sign. Och! the Frinch bastes!" I made no further inquiries about the "Death." "But where are the Frenchmen?" asked I, after a moment.
Amidst the laughing of the guerilleros, Jack was swung out, and fell in a bed of shrubs and flowers, where we saw no more of him. As he was bound, we concluded that he could not help himself, and was lying where he had been thrown. My attention was called away from this incident by an exclamation of Chane. "Och! blood, turf, and murther! If there isn't that Frinch scoundhrel Dubrosc!"
The question was put to Chane, in mockery, of course, for it was impossible for him to answer it; and yet he did answer it, for his look spoke a curse as plainly as if it had been uttered through a trumpet. The Jarochos did not heed that, but only laughed the louder. "Well, Lopez, what says Saint Patrick? `Yes' or `no'?" "`No', Captain." And a fresh peal of ruffian laughter rang out.
Chane threw his large body in front, and Lincoln, cautiously slipping his rifle over his comrade's shoulder, sighted the Mexican. The latter had noticed the manoeuvre, and, perceiving the danger he had thrust himself into, was about turning to leap down from the rock when the rifle cracked his plumed hat flew off, and throwing out his arms, he fell with a dead plunge upon the water!
"Och, be me sowl! we can bate yez at that!" cried Chane, who appeared to be highly amused at the tagarota, making his comments as the dance went on. I was sick of the scene, and watched it no longer. My eyes turned to the portale, and I looked anxiously through the half-drawn curtains. "It is strange I have seen nothing of them! Could they have turned off on some other route? No they must be here.
"He might av axed the captain to dhrink, after savin' such a pair of illigant craythers," said Chane. "Sorra dhrap's in the house, Murt; the place looks dry," remarked another son of the Green Isle. "Och! an' it's a beautiful cage, anyhow," returned Chane; "and beautiful birds in it, too. It puts me in mind of ould Dimmerary; but there we had the liquor, the raal rum oshins of it, alanna!"
"Let one get on each side of you, and raise you up on their shoulders." Wondering at the astuteness of the young Spaniard, I ordered Chane and Raoul to lift me as he directed. When my wrists came opposite the window I cautioned them to hold on. Presently a soft hand touched mine, passing all over them.
"Och! git out wid you! Bad luck to yer picther! In tin days it's Murtagh Chane that'll ayther be takin' his tay in purgathory or atin' betther than black banes in some other part of the world." "No entiende," repeated the Mexican as before. "Tin days, indade! Sure we'd be did wid hunger in half the time. We want the banes now." "Que quiere?" "Phwhat's that he sez, Raowl?" inquired Chane sharply.
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