The young girl was then questioned, and stated that amongst the treasures of the Community was a box which had formerly belonged to her father, and of which she had been deprived by the Holy Three; and this receptacle was, she averred, filled with this paper money, which her grandfather had, her father said, obtained in exchange for gold dust.

"Why then, Rose, you are an heiress," said Grenville, laughing, "and we must get you back your inheritance."

"I don't want it," said the impulsive girl; "I will give it to you if you can get it, d.i.c.k; but don't run any risks, I implore you."

Wondering inwardly where the old Mormon could have found the opportunity of converting his gold into English bank paper, Grenville resumed his operations, and for the instruction of Leigh drew on the back of the note a small plan of East Utah and its princ.i.p.al streets and offices, and then in an undertone said a few words to his cousin which made the other turn pale with fear and dread.

"The scheme is a grand one, d.i.c.k," he at length gasped out; "but even if it succeeds, I don't see how you personally can possibly make your escape from the town. Don't risk it, old man," he pleaded; "we can't afford to lose you. And if you got caught, what am I to do? I shall never be able to keep these scoundrels off, or get Dora and Rose out of the country with only the Zulus to help me."

"Now, Alf," replied Grenville, "you know I always make my mind up beforehand, so it's no use you arguing; besides, I really think I can escape from the place. Remember, the confusion created will amount to a positive wholesale panic, and a man less or more in the streets will never be noticed. Moreover, if the plan succeeds, it will mean at all events practical immunity from interference in the future, and will probably result in our finding an exit from the country. Of this I am determined--either I will find a way out or I will make one."

In vain Leigh urged his view of the question--our hero had indeed come to a determination, and met all opposition, remonstrance, and entreaty with the same inflexible resolve.

His cousin next pleaded to be permitted to share the danger, but neither would Grenville allow this.

"I will," he said, "risk no one's life or liberty except my own upon such a fearfully hazardous expedition. I intend that Amaxosa shall accompany me inside the walls, to carry my heavy armour; and when once I have reached my destination, he will return to you. And remember, Alf, that if I happen to be taken or killed before or, possibly indeed, after the execution of my project, the Mormons will at once deliver a tremendous attack upon your position. Keep them off as long as you can with the rifles--for I shall leave you mine, as also my revolvers--and then when they are ma.s.sed together and absolutely climbing the rock, light those infernal machines of theirs and throw them into the crowd.

Let the fuses burn at least thirty seconds before you throw them down, though; and I guess you won't have much more trouble with the Mormons.

And if you, or I, or both fail, G.o.d help us, old man."

"You don't mean to tell me you are going unarmed amongst those devils, who are raging for your blood?" remonstrated Leigh.

"Not a bit of it," was the reply; "I'm going to take that heavy revolver of Myzukulwa's. If needful, it will come in handy as a club after it is emptied. Besides, my game this time is not fighting, but hiding and then running; and I am specially anxious that should I have the ill-luck to fall into their hands, they may not along with me obtain any of our own modern weapons of warfare. Had I not had the luck to drop Radford Custance before he had time to hand your Winchester over to the community, we should all have gone under a month ago. Let me tell you, these fellows are not bad shots--remember the man who nearly dropped us in the Pa.s.s; and above all, don't forget poor Winfield's end."

"I see, nothing can move you," groaned poor Leigh.

"No earthly consideration will induce me to forego the attempt, Alf,"

was the quick reply; "so help me, instead of seeking to divert me from the end I have in view; and above all do not mention my project to the girls. It will be time enough for them to hear it when the result is a matter of history."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

GUY FAWKES REDIVIVUS.

All the following day Grenville rested and slept, and when the night closed in he saw with growing satisfaction that there was likely to be a heavy storm, and this in itself indicated the probable advent of the rainy season at no very distant date.

Not wishing to be delayed in any way, he set out early with Amaxosa, and by midnight, when the storm broke, had arrived within pistol-shot of the town.

By this time everywhere had grown dark as pitch, and looking up, Grenville saw that all the stars had disappeared, whilst at that very moment the surrounding landscape as well as the town stood revealed in a blinding glare of lightning, instantly succeeded by a terrific clap of thunder.

Quickly gaining the cover of the walls, Grenville hastily donned his protective armour, exchanged weapons with the Zulu, much to that worthy's astonishment, and then armed exactly as he had intended to be, and with a dozen spare cartridges in his pocket, commanded Amaxosa to return to the plateau as fast as he possibly could.

The indignation of the Zulu knew no bounds.

"Why," he said, "does my father distrust his faithful war-dog? Does he fear that when the time of danger comes his son will not be there? Has my father forgotten how the children of the Undi fought for him at the narrow crossing by the River of Death, has he forgotten the battle of the rock, the fight in the great black cavern, or the mighty struggle at the eastern bridge, where the red blood flowed in streams? Does he not remember how Amaxosa bore away the body of the Inkoos Winfield when he had fallen by the bullets of the witch-finders, or how, with his own hand and the box of lightning (Anglice bombsh.e.l.l), he slew five men and destroyed their moving castle? Why does the Inkoos, my father, doubt me? Amaxosa the son of Undi has but one heart, which beats true with the heart of his father; and the poor Zulu war-dog has but one body, but it would fain stand between the great white chief and the death he seeks to meet."

Grenville was sincerely moved by this impa.s.sioned burst of feeling, exhibited by a man usually so dignified and self-contained, and it took him quite ten minutes before he could convince the chief of the wisdom of his plan; but when he had at last succeeded, and somewhat pacified his friend by accepting the loan of his war-club, the Zulu raised himself to his full height, and shaking his spear at the city, delivered himself thus:--

"Beware, witch-finders--beware, ye evil men! Touch but one hair upon the head of my father, the great white chief, beloved of his faithful children, and the sons of the Undi will rip open every fighting man in your accursed land."

Then, grasping Grenville's hand, he stalked moodily away, and the last our friend saw of him, by the help of a vivid flash of lightning, was as he slowly entered the cover half a mile off, walking in a heavy and dejected manner, with his head sunk upon his breast.

And now our hero proceeded to effect his entry into the city; for if the rain came on, as it usually does in these lat.i.tudes, in the form of a vast sheet of water, the little river might become too much swollen for him to obtain his usual safe and easy access.

Had he been able to count upon the night being as dark as it proved to be, and had the lightning not been so much in evidence, Grenville would gladly have taken the Zulu with him; but he well knew that where a white man might possibly pa.s.s undetected amongst a half-paralysed and wholly terror-stricken mob of his own colour, the black skin of his faithful friend would at once draw down upon him stern and unfailing punishment, or rather retribution.

The thunder now sounded like one uninterrupted roll of heavy artillery, and the utter blackness of the atmosphere was cut by the almost incessant flashes of lightning, which, to our hero's discomfiture, kept the whole countryside in a constant and brilliant state of illumination.

Creeping carefully on, Grenville soon gained the welcome shadow of the houses, and at this moment the storm broke with added fury, the wind howling as if all the fiends of h.e.l.l were let loose, and, sweeping along the earth, carried with it a perfect avalanche of stones, leaves, and branches. Blast followed blast, and crash succeeded crash, until, with a shock like an earthquake, two large buildings suddenly gave way and came to the ground like houses of cards, crushing their wretched inmates under their ruins, and drawing half of East Utah to the scene of the calamity.

Silently gliding away like the spirit of evil, Grenville at last approached the public offices of the town, which consisted of a large rough building pierced with one small door below, at the rear, and entered from the front by a handsome flight of steps through a portal of commanding appearance.

Towards the back door, however, Grenville directed his tortuous course, constantly hiding, yet cautiously and continuously approaching, until, hidden by a stone b.u.t.tress, he stood within a dozen feet of the little door, and within half that distance of the guard pacing up and down before it with his musket on his shoulder, and from time to time casting uneasy glances at the sky. Waiting for the next flash, Grenville sprang upon the sentry and felled him like a log with a blow from Amaxosa's war-club, and with a second blow from the same weapon burst open the door and dragged the man's body inside.

The first drops of rain now began to fall, and in another moment the water was coming down in sheets, and Grenville knew that for some minutes at least, the absence of the sentry was likely to remain unperceived.

Striking a light, he found himself in a sort of low cellar, and seeing another door before him, he burst this in, and, to his complete satisfaction, found himself exactly where he had hoped to be, yet feared the possibility of penetrating. There before his eyes lay piled up barrel upon barrel of what--wine? No, gentle reader. Richard Grenville's desperate scheme was now realised beyond his fondest hopes, and he stood _in the powder magazine_ of East Utah.

Grenville lost no time, but knocking in the heads of a number of barrels with his club, he filled his hat with powder, and laid a thick train across the ground to the outer door; this operation, however, took some little time, for it had unfortunately to be performed entirely in the dark; and when our friend thought he had reached the door he was considerably taken aback to find he was pouring powder on the dead face of the hapless sentinel. Quietly striking a match, Grenville with the utmost caution inspected his work. He found the train perfect, and was about to leave the place, when a low horrified exclamation caused him to turn, and find himself confronted by several Mormons.

These men were not slow to see through his intentions, and with an awful yell rushed out of the place, and tried to close the door upon him.

Grenville was, however, too quick for them, braining one man, who fell across the door and blocked it open.

The street beyond, he saw, was already alive with his foes, who were rushing away from him in every direction, and dashing outside he fired his revolver into the train and flew along the street towards the river.

For one instant the success of the plot hung upon a thread, and that thread was the dead sentinel His death in point of fact almost saved the Mormons from the fearful calamity which was now rushing madly upon them.

The miserable man's blood had trickled along the floor and damped the powder, which fizzed and sputtered in the gory stream, and for one brief instant seemed to be extinguished; then a single spark caught the dry material beyond the tiny crimson rivulet, the serpentine flame spurted across the rooms in one lightning flash of fire, and in the next moment East Utah was shaken to its foundations by the explosion of fifty barrels of gunpowder, which rent the earth and seemed to dwarf into utter insignificance the thunder of the heavens, which still pealed and crashed overhead.

For the succeeding moments nothing could be heard but the crash of falling houses, accompanied rather than succeeded by the awful cry of "Fire! Fire!" And almost immediately the whole city, or rather what was left of it, could be plainly seen in the fearful conflagration which broke out.

Fortunate was it for the hapless Mormons that that night of terror was a night of storm, for had the tropic rain not stood their friend, every soul in the place would have been left houseless and homeless; as it was, however, the sheets of water which were teeming down, soon extinguished the fires on every side, and the city once more settled down into ominous and tangible darkness.

The author of all this ruin was meantime speeding in the direction of the river, but as he turned the last corner, only a hundred yards from the water, he ran right into a mob of Mormons, to whom a vivid flash of lightning revealed his hated and now well-known personality. With a hoa.r.s.e cry like the angry roar of wild beasts they went at him, looking for an easy victory, but planting his back against the wall Grenville used his revolver freely, laughing in their faces as they discharged at him gun after gun at point-blank range without penetrating his singular armour. Then, taking advantage of the darkness which succeeded an unusually brilliant flash of lightning, he charged through them, killing two or three with his war-club, and then dived boldly into the stream, which was now boiling down its angry course towards the River of Death.

Thither Grenville dared not go; against the stream he found it impossible to swim; so, rather than be drowned like a dog, he sprang out of the water and again faced his enemies, determination in his countenance, strength and activity in every nerve of his body, but without a shadow of hope in his heart. Once more getting to the wall, Grenville fought desperately with his club, killing man after man, and then, when he felt himself getting weak, pitched his revolver into the river and again prepared for a final charge. At this moment, however, a cowardly Mormon who had gained an adjacent roof, dropped a great piece of rock full upon our hero's defenceless head, and he fell to the earth stunned and unconscious.

When Grenville regained his senses, he found himself pinioned hand and foot, and lying in a great hall, which was thickly packed with Mormons of both s.e.xes.

Anxious to get an idea of his position he did not immediately open his eyes, but he was keenly watched, and detecting him in the act of trying to look through his half-open eyelids, Grenville's guards brutally jerked him on to his feet, one of them calling out, "The prisoner has come to, your Holiness." Pulling himself together, though feeling very weak, our friend saw he was gazing down upon a perfect sea of faces, and this mult.i.tude, as soon as he stood up, gave vent to one common roar of vengeance and execration.

Coolly turning his back upon them with a gesture of ineffable contempt, Grenville found himself face to face with the Mormon Trinity, and for a few moments the Holy Three gazed wonderingly upon this man who had penetrated their secret kingdom, worsted and defeated them at every turn, held them up to the ridicule of their own people, slaughtered at least one-fourth of the whole nation, and finally had, single-handed, almost entirely destroyed their town, and at one fell swoop wrested from their grasp the precious gunpowder which was to have sustained and defended them for many years to come.

On his part, Grenville was quietly saying to himself that these three men were very much what he had expected them to prove.

There was one venerable old man, with snowy white hair; his age must have been quite eighty years, and his countenance, though stern, had a certain appearance of benevolence upon it. The next man--his son beyond a doubt--was possessed of all his father's bad features without any of the good; taken all through, he had a cruel face and one which was, moreover, weak and vacillating, as well as sinister and sensual. The third member of this singular triumvirate was an enormous fellow, standing at least six feet three, and broad in proportion, a repulsive countenance, with villainy, murder, and rapine written upon every line of it--a man with the face of a satyr and the manners of a bear. Such was Ishmael Warden, the latter day Saint who clearly dominated the Mormon Trinity in East Utah.

For fully a minute Grenville waited the pleasure of his captors, and then the oldest member of the Trinity addressed him.

"What is your name, prisoner?" he asked.