Evening Star Newspaper, May 9, 1896, Page 16

THE TRANSIT OF THE “RED DRAGOR,” BY EDEN PHILLPOTTS. ees . 1896, by Bacheller, Johason & Bacheller.) PART L PANIC. Summer clouds, piled up in sunny crests and pinnacles against the August blue, mimicked with aerial splendor the towers and turrets of a city Which tay spread far beneath them. The shadows of the clouds swert onward over Brussels, casting flying interspaces of purple’ gleom on red roofs and fantastic gables; on open places of the mart; on great squares set aside for pomp and pleasure; on gold-tapped spires, fret- ting the sky with gauzy wonders of work- manship; on that crowning Gothic miracle where, to a vane full four hundred feet above the town house, there leapt aloft a megic vision of Brussels lacework frozen into And between the cloud-shad- ows, early morning sunshine brightened the fair capital of Brabant, added a gleam of gold to the harvests ripening without the city walls, set the air dancing in the narrow, gabled streets and made a frenzied populace seek the shade. In the days of this narrative, more than three hundred years ago, that most “‘deb- onair and gentle” devil of a monarch, Philip Hi of Spain, was hourly tightening his grip on an unhappy country through the length and breadth of the Netherlands. ‘Then a day came when the reformers struck their first blow back, in that incono- elastle outburst which began at Antwerp, during the Prince of Orange’s absence, and spread, a sea over a broken dyke, to Ghent, to Tournay, to clennes. And now rose a murmur of pending re- bellion in Brussels itself, while the regent- duchess, Margaret of Parma, despite her mustache and iron will, proved a woman at t—and now a very frightened woman. om which pregnant scene, against which stormy background, we see standing nly forth a giant soldier, rubbing rust his sword hard by the church door of udule. He sits before his own house, and if he trembles, it is with anger. The chaos only enrages him. s man belonged to (Copyrig’ the conquerors, and his extraord ‘ize rendered him remarkable apart m the massive strength and defiant carriage of his hea: of been and iris ng black; was brown as a inky hair and From tim ned to a mur- of ant crowds hurrying this way and that; then he returned to his labor and to polish the long sword. im, and notable with breast well-known d » add) 1 to have taken thee fr . Save in play. To! ade thee to making from rats. Of a truth , or the hangman’, ers and Wailoons i shouting, past M his armor. They ¢ el, but did not mol ° he spat and cro: d onward, led by a ‘lad in leather, on his shoul- earnest, and th no voice anded, and of the city while even his the Prince of if any human ing catastrophe a diy ain. ral ni the his work as the cla way, but a min don the cot . aC or with 1. The punt had a rms, and Manriqu vord with them, while the ome approval at the old so! ions. Then, to his surprise, and in a moment SS was evident- nriqui ve drawn thy blade nquired the grandee, look at the soldier. 1. The scabbard is no place s sword while we live in ng gave up fort thee a_ special and filled thy nod lord. His godlike majes- me to eat the bread of idleness. pe thou knowest the fame of the y sufferer It may satch I bore from Cardinal Granville even to the court of Spain—how, though grievously maimed and stripped to the skin Dy the s-enemies, I her did any man's e it lay before the king alone Manrique, ‘tis the > exploit hath brought me hither. that et of your achie yet came safely 1 not, and that no man lone excepted, ever learnec performe a feat that seemed s than miracle.” . my lord. The ki ception. T offer y secret, but he 1ld none of it. ‘Nay, friend,’ quoth he, reing me with the eyes once seen never = was no ex- to be forgotten—nay, keep thy trick -a secret. It may serve thee again: and, for have mysteries enough of my own ing. “But how like you the thought of making good his majesty’s prophecy? There's work for thee at the palace waiting thy word. The duchess flies to Mons within an hour, and from mech dismay and confusion, incidental to this present terror, ariseth an enterprise. ‘Tis from the Countess de Mirando I am come. Manrique’s dark eyes sparkled. “T have fought under her lord,” he said. “She knows it well, and likewise the spe- celal fame of your adventure with the dis- patch. Therefore she bids me to seek you. ‘The countess hath a marvelous fine diamond of European repute. "Tis a gem indeed worth untold gold, and surely no such jewel ever yet glimmered in this cursed country. The stone was gotten in Mexico by Count de Mirando’s father, and now, being in no small fear from the future, the countess desires to dispatch this ‘Red Dragon,’ for so is her diamond called, privately and securely to Mons. Her husband is like to arrive in that city by tomorrow even, and she greatly pince to know the stone is once again in his eeping. And thou bring the ‘Dragon’ in safety to Mons, two hundred ducats will re- ‘ward thee.” “Dueats of silver or gold?” “Golden pieces, every one.” Manrique reflected a moment, and looked Zhoughtfully at the rich raiment of his Wisitor. The count’s cheeks were pendulous ——— Juan de | and hung heavy, showing a glimmer of red lid lke a bloodhound’s under his brown eyes. A “Methinks the countess suffers this pas3- ing terror to somewhat dim her Castilian courage,” said the old soldier, abruptly. “Tis true these pestilent Calvinists are do- ing Satan’s work in the holy places, but ’tis not imputed to these wretches that they have appropriated gold or silver to their own base ends. Though gems and precious stones have been swept together upon the church floors, yet not so much as the jeweled eye of a saint hath been reported stolen.” Count Velasco showed considerable in- dignation at this speech, and answered with no Ittle heat. “Of a truth, sirrah, it {ll becomes thee to think for thy betters thus. Art thou wiser than the duchess? or canst thou gauge the fury of this mad Brussels better than I?” “N my lord,” answered the soldier, “but are not the noblest in the land in my mind? Truly it is bruited on humble tongues that the Prince of Orange and others are loud and instant that her grace leave not the palace.” “Have a care, and give no heed to all thou hearest. It is possible to be a mighty seig- neur, and yet no friend of Spain. Beware, and keep a still tongue. Learn that it Is myself who have urged the Countess de Mirando to this step. Therefore, no more words, but only ‘yea’ or ‘nay.’ ’” “’Tis surely ‘yea’ for a dame of the Mirandos of Castile. But this ‘Dragon of Mexico,” so to call him, must himself decide my final action.”" ‘How so, Manrique?” : . iefly touching the size thereof, my lord. “Surely the jewel will occupy no such space as did the cardinal’s‘dispatch?” Manrique smiled. it ill becomes think for thy betters. h, my good seigneur, but who can say, save only Manriqu what space the dis- h did oceupy | “Well, follow me. ‘Tis fifty good miles to s, 1 I would have thee start under of night. A full moon will guide, | and, thy business b: + 10 molesta- | tion ly to fa ‘As to that, a rob me of m might indeed would not be . count.® * asked the other, curiously. t we forth to the palace, that thou y e the If. And gird thine armor on, grows unruly, | and four Spanish blades are better than thre Manrique obeyed, and, as he preSently set forth with the veteran's blood once in the weight of pauldrons on his shoulders, of t ssets against his thighs. as o and his guard ap- proached the ancient palace of the Dukes of Brabant, at that time the residence of the ce A aleade, destined to ac- compar duchess, was now in readi- ness. Her coach waited, and every moment a new r ran through th ut com- she was coming outs’ urrounded th he more peace- had assembled the audi- ene and Count M de Vel Cou to a soldier, and, by Manrique, passed quickly hall of the paiace—that noble re, eleven short years before, made his famous abdication on Now the members of the upied it. at doubt and uncer- pushed Manrique at hi3 hi y through sundry cort artment or tw: 3 claves of lacqueys—and ! at a certain door. Dorothea, Countess de Mirando . who welcomed him; and Manrique i within his heim to see a fair lady of ta he loved best ompanied into the gre: cham’ wh Charles V behalf of Philip. but fear, had not chei Vel. inging the matte: cxplained Manriqu: willing to r the nt n it is w said she, “and I rate alor high; all men know the king h crown que with jay L Yet I perceis nd becomes him han i- Manrique, the cout, my ma not un wn to thoo— d thee wel Madama,” said the the tis n his mistress’ hear And voice in thanks. Then He Knocked at a Certain Door. now I pray that I may ad words to thy ear alone; for. “I want not thy secret, Manrique,” said the lady, abruptly. “It is enough that you ake the charge.”” | y, gracious madamte, nor am I like to | impart what the king himself has suffered me to keep hidden from all men. But as upon the occasion of my mission with the cardinal’s dispatch, I left to one man full directions how to act under certain circum- stances, so now I would leave the like for the better safety of this great diamond.” Thereupcn Count de Velasco left the apartment, and, save for two chamber wo- men who stood at the further extremity of cnd earshot, the soldier found one with his new mistress. Then ount2ss spcke: “Manrique, thou art, as I think, a Cas tilian, and in this plaguey land of eter rain and eternal heresies ‘tis sweet to see e of that.” Madame, you may trust me with your “But this is s far greater thing.” “Then, first, the measure of precaution I named. May it please your maidens to place ink, quill and paper before me, and I will set dewn a form of words only to be read by thee shouldst thou hear I have not reached Mcns.” Writing materials were furnished him, and the countess was amazed to see the man had made no idle boast when he said that he could write. Laboriously he penn- ed a line er two, then sealed the packet with wax and handed it to Donna Doro- thea. “If I come rot to thy lord at Mons, break up this, madame, but should I reach the count in safety, then I would have you burn it unread.” She promised to obey, and at the same time Velasco returned. “The seigneurs will strive with her grace,” he announced, “and urge her by all holy things to abandon her contemplaied departure and remain in Brussels. Prest- dent Viglius hath announced that the citl- zens hold the seven gates. The old man’s knees shake in his robe of office, and he weeps amber, like a sea fowl.” “‘Mayhap the silver tongue of Orange will bate her grace‘s first intention,” said the countess; but Velasco shook his head. “Bulla not upon it,” he sala. “Any mo- ment may see the court upon ita way to Mons. Meanwhile the ‘Red Dragon’ of the Mirandos must quit Brussels ere evil be- tide. The responsibility is on my shoul- ders, end I would it were not so.+ You trust Manrrique, lady?” “Ay, selgneur; for his heart first beat in Castile; his eyes have mirrored the moun- tains of Toledo; he hath seen my home. Ay, Mirando, Mirando!” she cried, a flush brightening her cheek and a mist rising in her eyes, “would that thou wert this good, honest soldier’s destination rather than Mons, and I his charge instead of this red Mexican stone!" She turned to a bureau as ske spoke, un- locked it, and brought forth an ivory cask- et, about two inches in height, and with the circumference of a penny-piece. At sight of it Manrique shcck his head. “I cannot assure the safety of a concern so bulky,” he declared. “‘Give me your dia- mond, and that shall be safe; but if ill fall upon this receptacle, I hold myself unblamed.”” Opening her little casket, Donna Doro- thea displayed the historic treasure which it contained; and even Manrique was struck with great admiration at the spec- tacle of an extraordinary diamond. It ap- peared alive to its core with light, with fire and wondrous brilliance; for a living, pal- pitating drop of pure adament was the “Red Drago,” clear as crystal, with every facet a star. The diamond, though not really red, had an infinitely fine, rose-pink hue, and it gleamed from the bezel of a heavy gold ring. Pe “Ms thus I picture an angel's tear, said Donna Dorcthea. Velasco took it from the countess and exhibited it to Manrique, who carefully and silently examined the glorious stone. ~ “This diamond,” said he, at length “must be remcved from its gold2n mounting. : The lady gave permissicn, and Velasco, with a little left-handed dagger, pricked the diamond from out the ring; next, he put the stone into the ivory box, and gave both to Manrique, while, ‘astly, he return- ed the gold setting to its owner. The soldier ncw consented to be absolute- ly responsible for the diamord, but his mistress asked another question before he departed. “Pardon a wcman’s curiosity, Manrique,” said the covntess, as he was about to re- tire with the ed Dragcn” safe in its ivory case beneath his breastplate. ‘For- give a woman, and teil me this much: Can it be thou wilt dare to swallow the ‘Dragon?’ I ask for thy good. One did so lorg years agone, and perished miserably.” “Nay, countess; for in truth it were death to swallow this creature of razor edges. *‘Twould stick fast in some organ of vital nd so make an end of me. This Dragon’ would of surety slay any ‘Red who offered to him the hospitality of his body. Moreover, the sword of a foe might make rough qvest and find it there.” | So saying Manrique bowed low, and took his leave. Count de Velasco accompanied him, having somewhat to say, and that pertient. He directed the soldier to set forth at midnight by way of the Cauden- berg Gate, gave him at the time a pass- word, and then bade him begone. “Recollect that speed is above all essen- ual," was the count’s last advice. “Take the fleeiest steed thou knowest, and bur- den not thyself with many weapons to retard thy progress. Thy mission is a secret, and thou wilt not be molested.” Then the soldier withdrew, and half aa hour later was back in his home under the double towers of the Church of St. Gudule. Manrique’s preparations were soon made He bid the woman who saw to his needs prepare a meal better than common, and have it ready for him at dusk. Then he put off his mail, locked himself into his room and Was invisible for some Velasco Pricked the Dinmond From Out the Ring. ‘Ihe mistress of the house heard no sound during this period, save the slow rasping ot a file; and that only when she stopped at the door to listen. During that afternoon Manrique visited a friend, and hired a gray Flemish mare of vast bone and muscle. The massive beast was also accounted a swift traveler for those days, and she had oftentimes carried mailed men. Indeed, during the previous December, in that famous jousting which followed on Prince Alexander of Parma’s | wedding with Princess Maria of Portugal, the gray mare had borne herself right handsomely in the lists. om the Caudenberg Gate of Brussels ‘eria Manrique rode forth an hour before midnight on the day of August, 1566, He had not foi ‘d Count de Vela a y particular, tor, though his s exchanged for a cap of cloth, end a woolen doublet covered his bod the soldier's steel breast plate lay be his innocent raiment, and the sword which he had polished that morning with such industry now hung suspended from his side. The road—wild and lonely enough for the most part—was not unfamiliar to Manrique He felt contented and happy. A pouid of fine pasty and a bottle of red wine com. forted his stomach, while thoughts of 200 golden ducats warmed his heart. The nignt air was cool after the heat of the day: the great mare jogged comfortably forward: a golden summer moon hung large and low above the horizon, and promised good store of light aron. Slowly she climbed aloft, filling the valley of the Senne with radi- ance, and brightening into silver the misis that wound upon the river's banks. By midnight Manrique had already pui two good leagues between the city and himself: and there were left before him some forty roiles yet to travel. Skirting those plains whereon a generation as yet unborn would fight the battle of Waterloo, he presently parted from the river. and entered a flat, drear region, over which moonlight glim_ mered in ashy streaks above wildernesses of marsh and morass. Anon little hills rose ahead, and the great griy mare, breasting into cooler air, snorted, stretched her neck and pushed forward. Manrique felt the spring of her mighty thighs behind him as the hill grew steeper and led man and horse to a tract of rocks and pine trees, with pre- cipitous slopes subtending the roadway on either side. Now the rider knew he was nearing Hainaut. Through a rugged region of stony hil- locks, capped with black silhouettes of scanty firs, he kept his way, now up-hill into the moonlight, now down where inky shadows hid the bottoms of steep ravines. But though the moon had served him so well in the low lands, she was a source of trouble \here. Her silver radiance played strange pranks with the rocks and crags threw abrupt and monstrous shadows at sharp corners and greatly tried the rider, for, despite his bright eyes, Manrique’ sight was none the best. ‘Then suddenly, right ahead of him, where a second before was naught but moonlight, there appeared another horseman—a magi¢ apparition, fashioned, as it seemed, of ebony and silver. PART III. THE BLACK MASKS. But upon reaching the stranger he spoke, proclaiming himself for a Spaniard, and evidently desiring to be thought an honest man. “Well found, friend! By heaven, a lonely road, and difficult!” “True,” answered the soldier, his caution awake; “‘so difficult, friend, and so lonely withal, that those unknown to each other will do wisely to keep each his distance, Lead on, if this be your way; if not, back your steed a pace and suffer me to pass by.” “I am bound for Mons,” answered the other; “and we are now, as I judge, within the borders of Hainaut. Hast thou fied be- fore the cloud that threatens Brussels? ‘That, I own, have I.” “For me, I toc am bound toward Mons. Lead on, and I will follow after.” The stranger obeyed, then fell to abusing all Netherlanders in good set terms, and showed, by other matters of conversation, a sound judgment end most just discretion. Neither did he meke any secret of his own affairs. Don Galyn—for so he called him- self—was returning to Spain ere long, hav- ing failed in certain ventures of merchan- dise. The moonlight presently showed him to be a small = mounted on a steed shorter by a hand and a half than the beast Manrique bestrode. : _ ‘THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY,’ MAY 9, 1896-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES. The bigger man's doubts disappeared, therefore, and he soon found himself jog- ging abreast of %ils companion. Manrique's head towered®ifgh above the Don's, but, despite repeat ‘efforts, he failed to get a sight of the atbanger’s fuce, for a wide- brimmed hat ith a heavy feather partial- ly shrouded if? and, as surely as the riders came into a of moonlight, where it silvered their'béad from point to point. so surely would*Don Ualyn turn away his head, and thus fénder any view of his fea- tures impossible?) He rode upon the tréop- er’s right and ééased not to talk until the sequel of théentire fucident. This now suddenly hay ed with the appalling swiftness of unaerbolt. They were then riding through a narrow gorge, and at“ foint where the path sank sharply and wound in cimmerian darkness under beetling crags, the soldier spoke: “Such a plac might be worth a Jew’s eye in time of war,” said ne. “Truly, ten men well posted Ww musxets could slay a thousand.” «~« As though the~words had been a signal, they were outed by a flash of fire which leapt suddenly from the crown of a rock not fifty paces ahead of the travelers. But no leaden ball serearced by them, though precipices to right and left rang loudly out, magnifying the solitary discharge into a volley. Manrique’s life, however, was none the less assaulted, and that viciously; for, as he reined back his horse and turned to fly the ambush, he felt a heavy blow on his right breast and heard the sharp crack of snapping steel. His own companion it was who had seized the opportunity and struck him hard and deep—a blow which must have certainly ended the soldier's interest in wordly affairs save for that armor be- neath his doublet. To draw and hotly en- gage the traitorous fiend was the work of a moment; but the Spaniard, despite his statements to the contrary, possessed evi- gent knowledge of warlike affairs, and when Manrique’s heavy weapon beat down his enemy's rapier and fell with a crash upon Don Galyn’s shoulder the tables were turned, for his sword blade shivered on proof. Already that dark gorge was alive with hurrying figures, and before the as- saulted man could retreat a dozen mail-clad foes, rising like spirits from the gloom, were upon him, Don Galyn made no further effort to hide his face; and Manrique now observed with some horror that it was black—coal black, with piercing eyes shining bead-like from it. No hooded devil of the inquisition heating flesh pincers or screwing a rack could have appeared more inideous. Four others of the band had similar faces, and the discomfited soldier, seeing escape im- possible, alighted, submitted to be bound and then asked briefly what might be the will of his captors—a question to which Don Galyn replied: “Why, ‘tis first to learn thy business, friend. From whence comest thou? And upon what enterprise art thou embarked?" “My name is Feria Manrique, soldier of Spain, and privileged by his majesty to en- joy liberty from arms if I will. My mis- sion is from the court of Brussels to Mons. And you, seigneur, would have murdered me! Wherefore?” “"Tis for us, not thee, to put the ques- tion. I struck thee not, but only strove to disarm thee,” answered Don Galyn, with cool mendacity. “Now, let us seek the bonfire and light a torch or so; this mat- ter needs illumination.” They turned through a cleft among the cliffs, and found themselves within a small theater of stone and sward, surrounded by high rocks. Here preparations had already been made, and fire was now set to a mass of dry pine and bushwood, which, blazing up and burning freely, soon painted the wild region with fantastic and bloody red, flashed on the armor of the soldiers, and lent a strangely hideous app2arance to the black masks of Manrique’s coaquerors. The prisoner kept his wits, and noted, by the firelight, that more than one of the mer- cenaries about him were men whom he per- sonally knew. His reputation was great, and he trusted it might ve him with some, at least, of those who had been his comrades in times past. Happily, they seemed of one mind in an portant par- ticular. They esteemed their captive, know- ing him, some personally, all by repute; and though the fortunes of a rascally in- trigue had now placed him in the hands of powerful men who must prove bitter ene- mies if thwarted, yet the soldiers declared they would not suffer the favored of the king to be slain. Anon the masks, who had been conversing aside, came forward, and seated themselves about tne fire, while Don Galyn opened the matter. His line of argument had changed, and he spoke as one bearing authori ; us not,” he began. “We are no la bandits of the night, sprang from these fastnesses to overwhelm thee, but the friends of order and honesty, led by seigneurs of high degree, and sent forth from Brussels by the lady whom thou serv- ‘To take my life? “Peace, Manrique, and give heed to me. Thou art upon a secret mission for the Countess de Mirando. But the court hath not left Brussels, nor is it proposed that it shall do Therefore the counzess would have her priceless treasure agai dispatched us to acquaint purpose.” “Where is thy authority, se’ “Upon the word of Count de Velasco. “Were the count with ye, I would not yield the diamond to him. A barren word is poor token for so great a matter.” Two of the black masks laughed, and a J, whose voice was strangely harsh and s the diam: It is enough. The rest lies with us. See now, Manvique, thou rt wholly in our power—to Co with as we le Adier. thundered back the oth angrily. “The diamend! and quickly i “Not so, seigneur. The ‘Red Dragon’ is for the hand of Count de Mirando.” “Strip him piecemeal, then; beat out his armor also, and tear every shred of cloth or leather upon him to tatters. See like- wise to the furniture of his horse. Let nothing be overlooked.” It was Don Galyn who gave this com- mand, and with reluctance his men obeyed him. The black masks were also active, and examined every particle of Manrique’s apparel before the glaring light of the bon- fire. First harness and saddle were chop- ped to pieces not greater than a hazelnut, every fragment being most closely scruti- nized; then the captive soldier's armor was hammered out, and proved to conceal nothing. Beneath his breastplate appeared the ivory box; but Don Galyn’s gratitica- tion at sight of it changed quickly to anger when he found the casket empty, and he stamped the trifle beneath his heel. ‘““Twas the property of Countess de Mi- rando of Castile, high in favor with the regent and his majesty of Spain,” said Manrique, drily. But the remark cost dear; for Don Galyn, turning furiously, smote him across the mouth, whereupon he spat blood from his wounded lips, but was wisely silent. ‘Then, piece by piece, his leathern jerkin, his breeches, long boots, stockings and under raiment were cut to fragments and probed and pierced alike by daggers and the keen eyes of the black masks. But not a glimmer of the “Red Dragon" rewarded their search, Now the soldier stood bound hand and fcot and naked before them, and at the sight of him thus, Noircarmes—for it was the notorious fierd—spoke again: - “Our task grows lighter, and if the stone be not inside of kim, we shall find it else- where. Chop off his. beard and hair; seek in every fold and wrinkle of his flesh where such a thing might be hid.” Manrique, with calm fortitude, under- went this ordeal; but the soldiers showed no stomach for their work, and Noircar- mes, with Don Galyn, made _ personal search, the former thrusting his fingers into the prisoner's nose, and roughly prob- irg his ears likewise. “Even thus,” said the syfferer, “did the eremies of my king use me in the past; but I little thought to endure like insult from Spaniards.” “His mouth!” shouted”Don Galyn. him! Ha, ha! we grow hotter! Is so, Manrique?” The prisoner made no ‘answer, but allow- ed his mouth to be opened and a wedge inserted. Then, holding a torch to his face, the eager don peered between his captive’s jaws; but he was rewarded by nothing but the sight of a splendid—a per- fect set of teeth. There appeared no sign ef the “Red Dragon,” nor did sufficient rcem eXist within the prisoner's mouth for a stone so great. Nevertheless, the disap- pointed thief thrust in a portion of his hand, ard sought roughly beueath Man- rique’s tongue and at the back of his throat, ecratching the tissues with sharp nails, and relieving his growing anger by brutality. Unluckily for him, however, a fvrious probe loosened the gag, and Man- rique, maddened under this torture, lost his self-control. In a second a sharp snap told what had happened, as the soldier's teeth met, liks the jaws of a steel trap, on Don Galyn’s thumb, and broke the bone of it. With a shriek the injured man held off, and drew his rapier to run the soldier through the naked body; but a tlack mask held him back, and, at the same time, two or three of the mercenaries shielded their captive. The fighting men outnumbered “Gag it not their masters by three to one, and were bent on saving the veteran's life if pos- sible. Indeed, when Noircarmes, with mo- tives which he took no pains to hide, bid them bring Manrique beside the fire, one of the soldiers made this fact clear. “May it please my lord, but this man hath the favor of King Philip. He is a right king’s man, and your servants dare do him no hurt!" Such opposition from a mercenary elec- trified Noicarmes, as well it might. With a volley of oaths, he made answer. “This passeth’ belief! ‘King’s man,’ say- est thou? Devil's man, rather! Who, save only the Father of Evil, doth hold this stone from us? What power hath man to perform a miracle? Are such slights to be praised?” The soldier, having mutinied, knew his life was not worth a rush; but his com- Panions stu by him so stoutly that, af- ter more words, the masks went aside and conferred in private. PART IV. ENCHANTMENT. During the interval Manrique spoke with earnestness to his friends and promised them the powerful support of Count de Mirando when the matter came to his ears. But the listeners were ill at ease and much feared the sequel. Some believed their masters spoke the truth and begged the prisoner to obey them. Only, with one consent, they stood by Manrique in so far that he should suifer neither the torture nor death. Then the masked band return- ed, and Nofrcarmes spoke. His manner as changed—he affected to be pleasant and even jocose. “Hear now, thou mad dog! Needs must that the countess shall send thee her own sign manual, it would seern? Be it so. Thou art honest, at least; and, thanks to these stout swordsmen, better counsel hath pre- vailed, and I, for one, forgive thee and them. They are in the right. I grieve only that we have dealt harshly with thee. Now, learn that our cavaleade returneth forthwith to Brussels for warranty from the countess. Will her own dispatch con- tent thee?” Manrique replied that such evidence must prove conclusive. “Be it so. And, meanwhile, here, within the rocks, a cavern where thou shalt await us. The grotto is mighty cool and quiet—a place foot of man enters not once in ten years.” Fifty yards away, where the low cliffs jutted upward, extended a mass of briar and shrub, and behind the foliage lay a little cave—profoundly silent, save for the Unkle of dripping water, and very dark. Once within the portal, ‘the cavern grew somewhat larger, and seemed to probe the very bowels of the hill; but his conquer- ors. co: Manr, a short distance there lies ed ue only. Here a torch showed wonderful for- mations of stalagmite the percolation of water from time imme- morial had fastened solid pillars of car- bonate of lime, firmly footed the floor and reaching to the roof. and stalactite; and in Against one such Manrique now found himself bound, though with some pretense of mercy. A Urink of water was given him and a cloak or two wrapped about his body. Boots, for which he begged, were denied; but a soldier, with- out asking permission, fetclied bund) fern on which the prisoner could resi naked feet. His legs were free; but his hands were strapped firmly to his sides, and he was bound to the pillar by the neck in such fashion that any struggle to es- cape must strangle him, By midday we shall once more be with thee,” said Noircarmes, as having seen the rest of his band frum the cavern, he stamp- ed out a torch before walking after them. “Till then, possess thy soul in patience, “If not, back your steed a pace, and suffer me to pass.” and cry not out, for thou wouldst only waste thy breath. Thou standest in a place of ill omen, and the herdsman who heareth thee will but cross himself and hurry fur- ther off.” With that he departed, and the simple soldiers, smelling no treachery, mounted their horses and galloped off behind their masters. Manrique heard the calvacade thunder away, till all sound was lost in si- lence. Then he became conscious of the dripping music of the water hard by, and neted also the smoldering torch sending up gray smoke in a dim, quivering premoni- tion of the dawn, which already lighted the mouth of his prison. By the orders of the black masks Man- rique’s horse d been left tethered hard by the eave—a circumstance which appear- ed reasonable enough to the mercenaric whose united action had patriot’s life. They, indeed, saw no signiti- ‘ance in recent events save that upon the e of them; and when, therefore, an in- cident arrested the cavalcade on its return journey, none but the conspirators realized ils purport. As the company trotted steadi- ly back through the gorge towards Brus- sels, and after they had gone me two miles or more, one among the black masks suddenly pulled up and dismounted. Von der Huyls—for such was the noble’s name, bade a soldier hold his horse by the head, and then, in the dim dawn, it seemed that he picked from out one of its shoes a stone which had wedged there. done, ne re- mounted, but had not iraveled far when he stopped agdin, deciaring his steed dead lame. Meantime, Don Galyn, doubtiess suf- fering no small torment from his ciushed thumb, had sped forward, aad only Noir- ‘tarmes and three troopers remained with Ven der Huy The latter it was who sud- denly, as an inspiration, suggested return- ing to the ambush in the cliffs, and making use of the gray mare slill tethered there. “'Twill bear me well back to Brussels,” said he, “and when a party set forth again tomorrow, they can bring with them a fresh steed for Manrique.”” Ncircarmes hesitated some few moments, but finally decided that this was tie only practicable course. He was better mounted than the troopers, and therefore decided to accompany Von der Huyls. The soldiers, completely deceived, did as they were bid and hastened after their companions, but hardly were they out of sight before the two rascals pricked their steeds and galloped speedily back upon the way they had come; while all traces of lameness in the mount of Von der Huyls utterly vanished. This, then, was the result of the last de- liberation. Noircarmes had sketched the crude plot, and matters fell out exactly as he foretold. The return journey was to be made by himself and one other—ostensibly to exchange a lame horse for the tethered mare, in reality on a widely difterent errand, “The paser sort,” said Noircarmes, “have no soul that can rise superior to fieshly torment.” “But this Manrique, I take it, hath a dev- il. Else whence his power?” “A red-hot dagg2r point may find an an- swer easier than L” Dawn was already gray, and a black cock calling in the pines, when the horse- men galloped Lack to the clef: in the rocks, and, making fast their horses, strode to where the bonfire, now reduced to a pile of white ashes and black, sent upward a slen- der column of smoke. But a kick from Von der Huyls showed glowing embers beneath the charcoal, and revealed a fire amply hot enough for his purpose. Great silence had settled within the rocky theater. Un- der a gray dawn, the low cliffs, the pine trees, the tumbled masses of stone upon the sward, the yawning mouth of the cave, dimly indicated behind its curtain of briar and bush, suggested unutterable desola- tion. A_ spirit of loneliness brooded over the spot; no ear but a God’s would note man’s loudest yell of agony ringing there. To the cave Noircarmeg and his com- panion turned their footsteps, designing to bring forth the prisoner, stake him to the ground beside the fire, and then try what devilish cruelty could do toward dragging his secret from him. Both yet wanted some fifty paces of the cavern, when, from the black ‘depths of it, came a strange rumbling as of distant thunder. The sound increased and ended as suddenly as it had begun, with a vibrating crash that seemed to suggest that the great pillars of the cave had fallen and overwhelmed the in- terior. A glede, startled from her roosting saved their com- lace, shot on slanting wings from the rkness and soared swiftly to the crags above. Dead silence followed, intensifying this sudden fury of sound and hidden mo- ton. For a moment the masks were stag- gered. Such manifestations from a grotto teranted only by. one helpless prisoner of- fered a problem not easily solved. “What make you of that?’ asked Von der Huyls, uneasily. “They say the devil helps his own.” “This place hath an evil repute, so "ti? said,” answered Noircarmes; ‘but neither man nor fiend-yet turned me from a pur- pose. Draw your sword and follow me closely.” They strode together into the darkness and chill air of the cavern, and for a mo- ment it seemed as though the soldier had disappeared, but further scrutiny showed @ prostrate white form lying at the base of the pillar to which he had been bound. “He heth been stricken down,” whispe ed Von der Huyls. “Of a truth that devil's din was created by things hidden from flesh and biood.” “Hold thy fool’s tongue and bear the torch more steadily,” answered his com- panion, as, pushing forward, he stoed be- side the prone shape. But even Noircarmes felt his heart leap and the hot blood flog at his temples be- fore a spectacle now stretched under the torchlight upon the ground. Instead of Manrique, there lay a contorted, misshapen monster, with the limbs of a man all hor- ribly twisted and tapering to points like tree roots. A cloak covered its middle; the shapeless head, trunk and limbs were wrought as from the stony icicles of the cabin; and the unholy creature glimmered and seemed to move as the torchlight flashed red upon it. esus help me!” cried Von der Huyl finding his tongue at iast. “This is e “The diamond! and quickly.” chantment worse than ever I heard tell of until now. Fly, man, fly, ere your veins turn to stone and your body to these cursed crystals! Dear God! I feel the icy hand of this horrer even now biting under my mail!” He turned, dropped his torch and stag- zered to the entrance of the cave; while De Noircarmes, scarcely less terrified, gal bied a “Pater Noster” fervently as he rushed Horrible enchantment air. ack into the rtainly had most o turned Manrique to a substance scarcely less adamantine than the “Red Dragon” it- self; and, to the terrified eyes of thi as they made for their horses, it s that the great Flanders mare, sleeping motionless under the pines, had been lik: wise transformed into stone. And not vatil the last sound of galloping | hoofs had ceased to echo did any further matter fall out within the cavern. Then a ugh crept, like a thawed echo, from darkness of the roof, a pebble or two clatiered downward, and the sound was followed by a louder, as of some heavy body climbing, not easily, in the darkne Immediately afterward a white figure ap- peared and walked across to where lay the petrified thing which burlesqued humanity low 1 the wu 80 hidecu It plucked the cloak from this grim semblance of a man, and, throw- ing the same over its own shoulders, pro- ceeded to the entrance of th Manrique, and he prese n ap- scarcely less horrible that which he had arranged to personate him. He was naked, save for a cloak abo loins and another over his sh Hood, from his torn nostrils beard, had clotted on his face; his hair was shorn off, and his hasty climb in the cavern had been responsible for inany a fresh abrasion and wound. Briefly, the man’s friends were to be thanked for furnishing the power to es- cape. The soldier who had cast a pile of fern beneath his feet whispered at the same moment that a knife lay nidden un- der it; and this Manrique quickly found with his foot. He could not bend to reach ; moreover, his hands, as well <s_ his | neck, were tied; but his feet had !een left unfettered, and, after a few attempts, the ceeded in raising the knife between thereby placing it within reach of his hand. The rest was easy, and he scon stood free. Fearing no further assault for the space of many hours, he had proc -eded with the construction of a stone dur be- fore pushing forward to Mons. His purpo. was twofold, and he looked forward at th future. There could be no return for him | to Brussels, for he was aware that Don Galym would surely compa destruc- | tion if he did Th ashio the effigy, knowing the ¢ ou ed a place of magic, and believing that sight of the stalagmites, men would s cribe his taking off to enchantment, trouble no more concerning him. He ha been sharply surprised by the return of Noircarmes and Von der Huyls, and, ob- approach, himself un to climb into s y among the son the p sides of This he had but only xpense of new wounds ent of a rock, which, thundet “By midday we shall once more be with thee.” ing down and awakening all the echoes as his foes approached, had served—though Manrique trembled for his safety at the time—to add to the effect of his ruse. PART V. A WEIRD SECRET. Ard now, as though the battered war- rior had not suffered enough from fortune’s buffets, a further injury befell him. Walk- irg—a strange, rueful figure enough—to- ward his horse, the man suddenly felt.un- der his left foot the sharp stab of steel. Bending to see the cause of this further reverse, the cry on his lips died unuttered, and he stood struck dumb with astonish- ment. There, lying by the blood that drip- ped from a deep cut in his heel, was the handle of a strange weapon, which the soldier had seen for the first time on the previous day, and noted observantly. A main-gauche dagger lay before him, with one inch only of the blade remaining. It had a shell guard, ivory grip and curved quillons finely wrought. Here, then, was the weapon which Don Galyn had splin- tered against his breastplate, and with this same stiletto Manrique knew full well that Count de Velasco had pricked the “Red Dragon” from its setting of gold. It seemed difficult to suppose that two such unugual weapons had chanced to be at one time in Brussels. Manrique limped along, reached the horse meroifully spared to him, and, ten minutes later, passed out of the desolate gorge, anon finding himself on lower ground, up- on the way toward Mons. His eye roamed ever the land for a roof tree or the smoke of fire, but it was not until hegpad ridden ferward about an hour that he ®oted water sheening red in sundawn, and the substan- tial walls of a homestead rising beside it. Farmer van Trier, though he was a good Catholic, loved not Spain; and the litle man took it ill when to his portal there came at sunrise the apparition of a gaunt, | with h black-eyed, grizzled end tatter-bearded Spaniard, seated, nearly naked, on a tall gray mare. Van Trier crossed himself prayerfully, and then, finding that action pewerless to dispel this devilish image, he tried rubbing his eyes. But the unclad man Proved no monstrous exhalation of the morning. He was alive, and went in need of succor. “Good-morrow, worthy sir! it to Mons?” began Manrique. “Two leagues, and the road lies before you,” answered Van Trier. “So far well; but I am in no plight to make the entry of a notable town. Regard me, good farmer. I heve been sore set up- en and now come from seeing death face to face. I am upon a perilovs enterprise for Countess de Mirando, a lady of the court, and I have fallen into the hands of bloody masked bandits -ameng the nightly fast- nesses of the hill “Truly you need a pair of breeches and some such like matters,” admitted the farmer. “Ay, and more than that. My left foot is in poor case; and to go thus mother naked through half the night hath chilled my blood not a little. Accompany me anon to Mons, and three golden ducats shall be thy reward.” The farmer hesitated, knowing a Span- fard’s word to be more brittle than spring ice. Manrique’s foot spcke truth: it was greatly swollen, and there could be no mis- take as to the severity of the gash upon his heel. Finally, when the promise of gold How far is | ducats had been repeated, Van Trier con- sented to do what was desired of him. Breakfast was made ready, and the farm- er’s wife tended Manriquc’s foot, swaddling it handsomely in a roll of soft stuff, while @ stout doublet and breeches of frieze cloth brought warmth to his body. Before mid- day a start was made for Mons, the good Samaritan accompanying his guest. The first thing they heard on reaching the city was that Count de Mirando and his retinue had arrived on the previous Gay, and that the count designed to pro- ceed to Brussels that same evening. Man- rique’s name acted like a charm, and Count de Mirando commanded tha: he should in- stantly be brought before im. The se'g- neur had his share of the hidalgo haughti- hess proper to . but ha could unbend upon occasion, and a good soldier ever held the key of his’ hi “Welcome, Manrique! Thou art in sea- son, as much for thine own sake as my enxieties. But thy pres: . not unwound- ed aa with ea . Kills my fears, The ed my master! nd sound, y, th 5 about my business and left the Caudenberg gate at the time Ve- lasco directed. Further, ere I my adventure, I beg you to have here beneath my dou! 4 Manrique prod a broken which had wounded his foot. T knew tt, Stared with astonishm: “By our Lord! ‘tis V “I much fear so, count. I saw hand before I felt it in another's.” Mirando, ath wor! ; the stone his ingrate to su! om, and hath conspir: myself man whose voice pl in his nt position of power. “True, noble coun nd but for certain of the soldiery, wh ew my name and fame, my life had surely i from my bod: h torment as the great Seigneur devised. The men w 1 jray you think upot Nl arrive in Brussels, for oircarme: their is likely to meet with ward. They shall enter my service if they tomorrow, friend. And now, Man- rique, this same wondrous splinter of But Even Noircarmes Felt His Heart Leap. twinkling stone—is it within the bounds of belief that, stripped naked and sub. jected to the ‘scrutiny of a Noircarmes, thou couldst bring it safely of? “Even s count thou, of a truth IT thought little about the "Red Dragon’ when I stood so r to death y lady hath written, for false news brought to her that 1 with diamond. Sh r own, me an y sp ho ial reached ‘our h broken, straig read what | you d set down. And yet only a fur- ther mystery z i—where lea you to 3 ice, count. D thou not r my secret from the letter?” ssuredly no.” i yet jon, sou ce therec hadst thou ec { my corpse. though of the lied with the gazed on 1 ness.” from the ec walked behind a lofty Ic remaining invisible sc minute, returne On his hi a thou- 1 twinkling 8 about hav- ique curious! have bh m racked and burned for magic than this,” he said. “Truly there was no magic, seigneur. I am a plain man." “And now the two hundred len ducats named in the later pages of my lady’s letter. "Tis a large sum.” “Ay, my lord, but not unearne lost my armor, which I loved only le than life; I hav not have chang I have lost—” “Fear not for thy duca que; they are here, and only wai But I am curious as a woman in this matter, an@ will give thee a hundred more piec know thy et. Thou art about retu to Spain; upon my oath, the m shail not 1 The soldier r d. “Wilt thou swear, count, never to matter—nay, so much ‘as to the bosom?” fost solemnly I swear, Ma “Thou art the only man on God's earth to whom I would tell my secret; but I trust thee, for I have fought behind thee, and seen thee fight.” He turned away a moment, then turned again. “Look now upon me, good seignent e lost my sword, that 1 would d for twenty ‘Red Drag nd, rique.” Count de Mirando stared, and an Invol- unt expressii of sudden horror burst from his lips. In place of the two pi orbs that shone beneath the Spaniard’s brows there now gleamed but one. A red, gapifiz socket had taken the place of the other, and in his hand Manrique held up an eye of glass. ‘A Mexican arrow robbed me,” “and this miracle of glass was fa me by a cunning artificer in Ve eyes are coal black, as thou seest, and his feat was, therefore, the easier. Behind this circle of glass, and fitted within the hollow of it, I bore the cardinal’s dispatch, writ small; and herein likewise thy gem hath safely traveled. Hadst thou found me dead, and gazed upon my face, thou wilt now sec that my secret had been one no more.’ In a moment the eye was back in its socket; while Count de Mirando, with a startled word, returned to his desk, and from sundry fat bags poured forth Feria Manrique’s reward. ice. My Before morning the count and his retinue arrived in Brussels, and his partner's heart was soon relieved of a mighty sorrow, For him, too, she had intelligence of a sensa- tional nature. “You are to know,” said she, “that the Count de Velasco hath perished most miserably of a locked jaw. He suffered spasms of unutterable torment; nor could ckirurgeons avail him anything. ‘Tis rumored that some murderous hound did fly upon him yesternight as he walked in darkness.” “Truly he who so walket! tent to abide by the resul answer. “I prithee exercise all caution with thy own hounds, dearest one; for dogs are deemed a peril in this fiery weather.” “"Tis passing hot, in truth, fair heart, he replied, “but, touching this same black Velasco, it may justly be held an open ques- tion whether or no he hath of late bettered his climate.” The End. must rest con- the count made