Jack Harkaway and His Son's Escape from the Brigands of Greece - Part 75
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Part 75

Barely had he stretched out his legs, when he was startled by a sound at his side, and glancing up, he found a huge, black-muzzled fellow towering above him and covering him with a long-barrelled horse pistol.

"Hullo!"

Out came his long knife instanter.

"Move or speak, and I pull the trigger," said the brigand.

"Thank you for nothing," said the stranger.

"Who are you?" demanded the brigand.

"Just what I was about to ask you," returned the stranger, lightly.

"Whence come you?"

"Precisely the question I was going to put."

The brigand's colour came and he grew vicious.

"If you are wise, you'll not try to fool me," he said.

"If you have any wit," retorted the new-comer, "you'll not come pestering me with questions; I'm not in the humour, and when I am put out, I'm dangerous. Good-morning."

The brigand, finding he could get nothing out of the eccentric stranger, fell back a pace or two, and the latter thought that he was to be molested no further.

He was mistaken.

Nor was he long in making this discovery.

The withdrawal of the brigand was a signal for a regular mob of the lawless men to make their appearance.

Every nook and cranny about the opening was guarded by armed men; and now, when the cool stranger glanced up-wards, he found a dozen rifles, pistols or blunderbusses pointed at him.

Still he did not appear disconcerted.

He only glanced about him with a coolness that was remarkable, and muttered--

"Dear, dear, how very attentive these dear boys are."

Before he could speak to them, however, they stepped out from their hiding places, and with their firearms still making him their target, they advanced to close in upon him.

When he saw the object of this manoeuvre, he jumped up and plucked out his knife.

"So, so," he cried, "sold, eh? Come on, all of you."

"What does he say?" demanded one of the Greeks, turning to Toro.

"He challenges us all at once to fight him."

"Why, the fellow's mad or an Englishman."

"Yes," said Hunston, "an Englishman. That makes him feel he is a match for a mob of Greeks, and I don't know that it is all madness."

Suddenly the stranger appeared to liven up.

"What, you are not the police, then?" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

"Police!" said Hunston, contemptuously turning round to the speaker.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Why, I took you for the police in pursuit of me."

"What have you been doing?"

"Am I among friends?"

"We are brigands, but you can speak freely."

"Well, then, I am an unlucky wretch who has been forced to bolt away from his master and his living--and all for nothing."

"What do you call nothing?" said Toro.

"A trifling peccadillo, sir; nothing more, I a.s.sure you--merely a few pounds and a paltry bit of jewellery belonging to an Englishwoman of the name of Harkaway."

They all p.r.i.c.ked up their ears at this name.

"Hullo, hullo!" exclaimed Toro; "what is this? Stand forward, man. Do you know Harkaway?"

"I do--to my sorrow," replied the man; "he was my master."

The brigands all p.r.i.c.ked up their ears at this.

"Harkaway's servant, were you?" said Hunston, eagerly.

"I was, sir."

"And what may be your object in coming here?"

"To join you."

"Do you know--"

"Who you are? Yes, of course; at least I can guess it--I'm uncommon good at guessing."

And he chuckled again.

"The fellow's an idiot," said Hunston.