"Then say what prayers you remember, and make your peace with Heaven, for at noon you die."
"Let me be the executioner," said a brigand who stood by.
"Not so," exclaimed another; "the task is mine by right."
"Peace!" said Toro. "The dice shall decide his fate. The highest thrower shall have the pleasure of shooting him."
The brigands, in obedience to a signal from the chief, gathered round him, a short distance from the prisoner.
Dice were produced and the game began.
"Double four," cried the first thrower.
"That man stands a good chance of being my executioner," thought Pike.
"To fancy that I, who have been the terror of evil-doers in England, should be the sport of these dirty brigands. Why, I could well thrash half-a-dozen of them in a fair stand-up fight."
At this moment a loud peal of laughter greeted the second dicer.
"Ace--two."
"My chance is worthless," said the man.
"Worthless!" muttered Pike to himself. "Aye, you are indeed worthless, compared with some of the English villains I have hunted down and fought for life or death. I could die like a man if I only had to die in a fair hand-to-hand fight with such a man as Birmingham Bill, the very first murderer I ever coped with; but I"ll show them how an Englishman can die."
"Double six!" shouted one of the brigands, as he threw the dice.
The man was the smallest and ugliest of the lot, but it seemed very probable that he would be Pike"s executioner. At all events, he carefully loaded his carbine.
"To be shot by such a villain as that!" thought Pike. "It would have been better if one of the shots fired by that burglar fellow they call the "Whitechapel, Devil" had taken effect; six times he fired, and then we had a good ten minutes" tussle before I could secure him."
At length all the brigands had thrown with the exception of Toro.
"Double six again!"
As it was a tie between the two, each had another throw. The little ugly brigand threw.
"Two--three."
Toro then took up the dice, shook them well in the box and made his cast.
"Five--four!"
And Toro was hailed the winner.
"Prisoner, I give you two minutes to prepare."
"Brigand, I am prepared. Such sins as I have committed, I have repented of, so do your worst; but rest a.s.sured that vengeance will some day overtake you. To Heaven I commend my soul!"
With as much composure as if he had been practising at an inanimate target, Toro raised his gun, and counted--
"One!"
"Two!"
"Three!"
At the word three, he pulled the trigger. The report echoed from rock to rock, and the head and body of poor Pike fell forward, as far as the ropes that secured him to the tree would permit.
He was dead, the bullet having penetrated the brain.
That evening, as Harkaway, Harvey, and Jefferson returned from an unsuccessful attempt to rouse the authorities, they found that two men had left a heavy package at the house.
On opening it, they were horrified to find it a section of a hollow tree, nearly every portion of the wood having crumbled away, leaving the bark intact.
And in the hollow was the body of the poor detective and a brief note.
"The fate of all brigand hunters. Beware!--TORO."
"Vengeance for this, at all events," exclaimed Harkaway.
"Poor Pike! We should be unworthy of the name of Englishmen did we not punish thy murderers."
He wrote a note to the mayor.
"SIR,--In the huge package that accompanies this note, you will find the body of an Englishman, who has this day been murdered by brigands; I call upon you, in the name of Heaven, to rout these murderers out of their dens, and bring them to justice. Should you show any backwardness in so doing, I shall deem it necessary to appeal to the English amba.s.sador.
"Your obedient servant, "J. HARKAWAY."
Having despatched a couple of messengers with the body and letter, they sat down with sorrowful hearts and small appet.i.tes to their evening meal.
CHAPTER XVIII.
HUNSTON IN THE CAMP AGAIN--RETROSPECTION--A DEVILISH PLOT--DARK CLOUDS GATHER OVER THE HARKAWAYS.
"Who goes there?"
"A friend."
"The word?"
"Mathias."