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But hunger is an intruder whose importunities there is no denying for any length of time, and so it fell out that, in spite of their brave and manful efforts at keeping up each other's pluck and spirit, he gnawed at their vitals in a way which reduced not only their stamina, but their spirits. "This is to be our prison," said Harry Girdwood gloomily; "I feared it would be."
"This boy has a companion called Harry Girdwood." "Well." "Well, these two boys are to be trapped, if it be gone about carefully very carefully, mark you." "That can be done, of course." "It can by you." Diana stared again at this. "By me?" "Yes." "How?" "Listen.
As it is, I leave my work for the benefit of the first Briton who shall fall into your claws and drop into my cell, and then mark me well he'll profit by my work, unless he be a greater fool than you have taken me to be, and get away." "He was very mad," said young Harkaway. "Very." Harry Girdwood said nothing. They were alone. Young Jack was full of deep and serious thought.
The two boys, young Jack and Harry Girdwood, standing hand in hand, their faces bearing the ghastly pallor of the grave and their brows smeared with blood. In the darkened cabin a flickering, phosphorescent light played upon them, a hint which had perhaps been borrowed from the practical joking in the chamber of the sham necromancer in Greece.
We have got them at last." Young Jack started. He turned pale and haggard, looking in a moment to Harry. "Do you know that voice?" "I do," replied Harry Girdwood. "We are sold, undone. It is the villain Hunston." It was but a little while after young Jack and Harry Girdwood had been entrapped, when a strange scene took place. Evening was coming on.
"Your dear son Jack and his friend Harry Girdwood saved my life when I was in danger of drowning at sea. They brought me safely ashore, only to fall into the hands of my remorseless companions, the mountaineers. Ah, I see you would call them by something less gentle in sound. Well, it was a planned thing. I was the decoy, but alas!
Major-General E.S. Girdwood, C.B., presented a very beautiful silver cup and medals to the winning team, and Battalion medals were also sent to all members of the team. For the Divisional Cup our record was: Played 6: won 5: drawn 1: goals for 25: goals against 6. Unfortunately a complete record of the Regimental and Battalion team was not kept, but we have records of the last 74 matches.
"Take that, you swab," cried Joe Basalt, dashing his fist in his face. "They are greater curs than yourself," yelled Hunston; "such witnesses would swear away your own life for a glass of grog witnesses indeed " He stopped short. His glance fell upon two forms standing close by young Jack and Harry Girdwood. Both were dressed as he had last seen them in the mountain haunt of the brigands.
"I started back and drew my dirk, and then I found my self attacking " "Mole?" "No. Joe Basalt." Harry Girdwood burst out laughing at this. "So it was Joe Basalt that was hiding and having a lark with you all the while?" "I didn't say so," replied young Jack, thoughtfully. "Why, then, what, in the name of all that's wonderful, do you think it could have been?"
The words of the latter proved but too prophetic A cry from young Jack a piercing shriek from the other boat. When Harry Girdwood glanced over his shoulder again, he saw the other boat, keel upwards, floating away. The unfortunate youth, its late occupant, was nowhere to be seen. "He's gone!" "He has," cried young Jack, starting up, "and by all that's unlucky, he can't swim. Pull on, pull hard.
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