Hunston flushed purple.
But he kept down his rage.
"As you are going to die, boy, I may let you off the birching which your impertinence merits. You have all the old brag of your father."
Jack was silent.
"All his deceit; all his sham and falseness--"
The boy said nothing.
"All his craven-hearted, black-hearted villany."
But young Jack saw through the other"s game clearly enough.
He held his peace.
He knew well enough that the real way to enrage the ruffian was to appear unmoved at his taunts.
So when Hunston had exhausted his expletives and was about to give the word to the firing party, young Jack spoke.
"One moment."
Hunston made the men a sign to ground arms.
The boy was about to beg for mercy.
Here, then, there was one chance of wreaking his spite upon the lad.
Now he should be able to feast his ears with the unhappy boy"s piteous appeals, for he well judged that, once he began to plead for pity, all his fort.i.tude would go.
"Before they fire," said young Jack, pale but resolute, as his comrade Harry had just shown himself, "one word."
"Go on."
"I can speak as one on the brink of the grave," said the boy, "and so my words may be prophetic. Before many weeks are over, you shall kneel and sue for mercy to my father, and it will be denied you. You will grovel in the dirt, and crawl and cringe in abject misery; but it will be hopeless, and in the bitterness of your despair you will think of this moment, and curse the hour you ever molested one of my race, or anyone in whom we are interested."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Hunston, in a boisterous and forced manner; "quite a sermon. Preaching is a new quality in the Harkaways. It is unfortunate that you are to be cut off in your early youth. You would soon bloom into an odd mixture of Puritan and bully."
But he could not provoke his victim.
Having said all he had to say, young Jack coolly folded his arms and waited the end of the tragedy, apparently not hearing what Hunston was saying.
"Make ready! Present! Fire!"
As the word was spoken, the volley was fired.
The unhappy boy--the last of the three victims--threw up his arms, and fell back into the new-made grave yawning to receive him.
Poor young Jack!
The body did not even quiver after it had fallen into the grave.
Apparently death had been instantaneous.
"Fill in the graves and cover up the carrion," said Hunston; "and then let us get away and make merry."
The girl stepped up and interposed herself.
"Begone and leave the rest to me,"
"To you?"
"Aye."
"What for?"
"It was so agreed," said one of the men.
"Let us pray for them now," said the girl. "Surely, having destroyed their bodies, you do not wish them any further harm."
She waited for no reply, but falling upon her knees, was soon lost in holy meditation, her hands clasped fervently, her head bent upon her breast.
The men doffed their hats reverently and glided noiselessly away.
Hunston feared to shock their superst.i.tious susceptibilities, and so he followed them in silence.
For several hours she was left to her meditations.
And when, some hours later in the day, Hunston returned to the spot, the three graves were filled in.
Over those of the two unhappy lads some pious hands had raised a rough wooden cross.
"The first to taste our vengeance," muttered Hunston.
"May the others soon follow," said a voice at his elbow.
He started.
It was Toro.
"This is the turn of our luck," said the Italian, exultingly.
"I hope so."
"I feel it so. The rest of the hated race will soon follow, if we have the least good fortune."