Dick Merriwell Abroad Part 50

They had made no mistake in thinking it the purpose of those hors.e.m.e.n to intercept the carriage. The sound of firearms had told them that the meeting was not of a peaceful nature. d.i.c.k dreaded yet was anxious to know the result.

Beyond and beneath them was a gloomy hollow. But for the clatter produced by their own horse, they might have heard the echo of hoofbeats receding and dying out in the distance of that hollow. The nature of the landscape concealed from their eyes the road that led through it and into the rugged hills beyond.

Soon they came das.h.i.+ng into view of the carriage they had pursued. It was overthrown on its side. One of the two horses that had drawn it was down. The driver had managed to clear the other animal, which was taking all of his attention. He was the only human being in sight. As they came on, he gave them an apprehensive look, seeming on the point of abandoning the horse and taking to his heels.

"There sure has been the old blazes to pay there, d.i.c.k!" cried Brad.

All at once, as they drew near, out from the wreck of the carriage leaped a puff of smoke. A pistol spoke and a bullet sung unpleasantly near the boys.

"Mighty bad shooting," observed the Texan.

He flung the horse to a stand. d.i.c.k was the first to leap to the ground.

Advancing toward the carriage, peering forth from which he caught a glimpse of an ashen face, he cried:

"Let up on that carelessness! Are you trying to shoot up friends?"

Immediately the head and shoulders of a man rose through a shattered door of the carriage.

It was Sir Augustus Camberwell, and his whole appearance was that of a man so badly frightened that he was liable to do almost any freakish thing. He held in his hand the pistol with which he had fired at the approaching lads. A bit of smoke still curled from the muzzle of the weapon.

"Really is-is it you-my-my dear boys?" he chattered, seeming to shake all over like a man with the palsy. "I-I thought it was-those ruffians returned to-to finish me up, don't you understand."

"Yes, we understand," said d.i.c.k. "You lost your wits completely. Lucky for us that your hand shook so you couldn't hit a house when you fired."

"I-I hope you will pardon me."

"We'll have to. What's happened here?"

"Ruffians, highwaymen, cutthroats dashed upon us! Shot down one of our horses! Tried to murder me! Fell on Cavendish and dragged him forth!

Seized the girl! Upset the carriage! That's about all I know, don't you know. I'm hurt. I fancy they thought me killed. I kept still. They left.

Cavendish is gone. Girl is gone. Confound the girl! She made all the trouble. Cavendish was a fool! I told him so."

"Why did you leave Athens?"

"Dangerous there. Greeks followed us to hotel. Knew a quiet place in a little village where Charlie and the girl could stay till he got ready to quit his foolishness. Thought the Greeks had gone to notify the authorities, and raise a row. Thought they were satisfied after they found where we were stopping. Saw nothing of them. Improved the opportunity to get away."

It was not the habit of Sir Augustus to express himself clearly and concisely, but his condition of nervousness seemed to jerk the words out of him in an astonis.h.i.+ngly crisp manner.

"What do you mean by saying that Cavendish and the girl could stay in your quiet little village until he quit his foolishness?" demanded d.i.c.k.

"Do you intend to convey the idea that he was not going to marry Flavia?"

"Marry her?" cried Camberwell. "How ridiculous! Why, he would disgrace his family, don't you know!"

d.i.c.k Merriwell's eyes blazed with anger.

"Then it is evident at last that Charles Cavendish is as great a scoundrel as Sir Augustus Camberwell!" he said, in deep disgust.

"What, sir-what?" gasped the Englishman, in astonishment. "How dare you use such language to me!"

"Give it to him, pard!" advised Brad, who was standing near, holding the horse. "Tell him a few things good and plain."

"You got off too easily," said d.i.c.k. "They should have hanged you to the limb of a tree-and Cavendish with you!"

Sir Augustus choked and spluttered.

"Do you know whom you're addressing?" he fumed.

"Yes; I'm addressing an old reprobate-a miserable old toad! I know your record, Camberwell. I know that you disgraced your family in England. I know you have left a track of wretchedness and ruin behind you all through life. And now you connive with a young reprobate to deceive an innocent and trusting girl! You plot to break her heart and destroy her!

I cannot find words to tell you exactly what I do think of you. You ought to get twenty years in a Greek prison-you and Cavendish."

"Be careful!" snorted Sir Augustus, rising to his full height and clambering forth from the smashed carriage, while he shook his pistol at the daring American lad. "I have money and influence-and friends in Greece."

"I don't care what you have; you have entered into a dastardly plot, and I hope to see you properly punished."

"I knew nothing of it to begin with," averred the Englishman. "Charlie sent for me. I was his father's friend. Of course, I brought my influence to bear to have him released. I had no part in forging the letter. That was done before I knew Cavendish was in Athens. The girl knew the letter was forged. Don't think she is such an innocent little--"

"That's enough!" blazed d.i.c.k, taking a step toward the man.

Involuntarily Sir Augustus lifted the hand that contained the pistol.

Like a flash the boy grasped the weapon, turned its muzzle aside and wrenched it from the grasp of the Englishman.

"You're not fit to handle such dangerous playthings," he said.

Brad had made a move to a.s.sist d.i.c.k, but he stopped, a grim smile on his face, for he saw his friend needed no aid.

"Why-why, you're worse than the ruffians!" gasped Sir Augustus.

"Look here," said the fearless American boy, "you had better keep a decent tongue in your vile mouth! Don't say a nasty word about Flavia, unless you're anxious to get hurt. Cavendish is a rascal, like yourself.

He has led her to believe it is his intention to marry her. There is no question about that, for she told us so. She has fled from Maro, who would have married her any day, to this English reprobate, who only means to deceive her. But I fancy that Cavendish will get all that's coming to him, for doubtless both Maro and Tyrus, the uncle of the girl, are with the band that dropped on you here. It is mighty doubtful if you ever set eyes on Charles Cavendish again."

"If they dare injure him they'll suffer for it!" cried the Englishman.

"If they are wise, they'll set him free without delay. I hope they do keep the girl, for he's crazy over her, and I can't swear he wouldn't be foolish enough to marry her."

d.i.c.k turned in disgust from Camberwell to the driver, who stood looking down mournfully at the dead horse.

"Can you speak English?" asked Merriwell.

"I spik it well," was the answer.

"Who attacked you here?"

"It was Donatus."

"Who is Donatus?"

"You never hear of him?"

"No."