In the Depths of the Dark Continent: or, The Vengeance of Van Vincent
TekstCHAPTER XXII.
THE EXECUTION AND WHAT FOLLOWED
Our friends were up and on hand before sunrise the next morning.
A vast crowd had already assembled about the spot where the execution of Doc Clancy was to take place.
Van and his companions took up a position in the rear of the crowd.
Though none of them were desirous of seeing the execution, they could not resist the temptation to be present.
It was now generally known throughout the city that Van was the son of the president of the board of officers, and many were the looks that were cast upon the boy by the city's inhabitants.
Just as the sun arose, Doc Clancy was led to the rudely constructed gallows that had been erected solely for his execution.
Before he stepped upon the drop, Van's father came forward and faced him.
When the villain saw the man he had abandoned in the African wilds to die, a look of terror came over his face.
"Wha-a-t!" he gasped. "Are you alive?"
"I guess I am, John Moreland. So you were not satisfied when you thought you had left me to die; you made up your mind to find your way back home, after a number of years of your villainy, and murder my brother! But a Nemesis got upon your track, John Moreland! My son, Van, had pluck enough to chase you clear to this spot, which is entirely unknown to the outside world. Now, you vile hound! you have but a few minutes to live! Have you got anything to say?"
During the recital of the president's words the face of Doc Clancy turned the color of ashes, and when he had finished, the wretch uttered a horror-stricken groan and fell to the ground in a faint.
Van's father then spoke a few words to the executioner, and then walked to the spot where our friends were standing.
"Come," said he. "When I let my handkerchief fall the drop will go down. I have no desire to see the execution."
Together the party walked slowly from the place.
A few yards from the crowd the handkerchief was dropped.
The next instant a dull thud was heard, followed by a howl from the excited crowd.
Van glanced back for an instant, and saw the form of Doc Clancy dangling in the air.
The career of the villain who had been chased to the heart of the Dark Continent was ended.
A sigh of relief escaped the lips of our hero.
"Now, if it is possible for us to get back home again, and take father along with us, I will consider my journey to Central Africa the most important event of my whole life," he thought.
As his father was compelled to use a crutch on account of his missing leg, the walk to their headquarters was a slow one.
On the way Van met Metha Arundel, who invited him to call again that evening.
He promised to do so, and a joyous look came into the beautiful girl's eyes.
As soon as the house of the president was reached our hero's father called him in his private office.
"My son," said he, "there is going to be trouble in this hitherto peaceful city before many hours."
"What do you mean, father?" asked Van in surprise.
"I mean just this: the man you struck yesterday for interfering with that girl – who, by the way, has fallen in love with you – has a vast influence among the people of this place. It was for that reason that the council did not indict him last night. I understand by good authority that he has sworn to kill you and all your friends. Now, I want to ask you what you think is the best thing to do."
"As soon as we see it is getting too hot for us we had better leave," was Van's reply.
"That's it exactly. Since you came here I have had a very strong desire to get back to our own country once more. I have long known a way to go, but could not go alone. You and your friends will just make the party large enough, and I think we had better start this very day."
"Let us wait till to-morrow, father. I have an appointment to-night, you know."
"Do you care anything for the pretty Metha Arundel, Van?"
"Why?"
"Well, if you don't I wouldn't get up any foolish flirtation with her, if I were you. Her father told me this morning that she had resolved to have no other man for a husband but you, and when a girl once says a thing like that in this country you may rest assured that she means it."
"I think I will ask her to go along with us," said Van, after a moment's thought.
Contrary to his expectations, his father seemed pleased.
"I know her father would go," said he, quickly. "Her mother is dead, and they two comprise the entire family."
"Very well," returned our hero. "You might as well speak to her father."
The elder Vincent now produced a roughly drawn chart of the African Utopia.
He showed Van a river which flowed near the eastern wall of the city and thence in a southerly direction until it emptied into Lake Tanganyika.
"This map was drawn by a man who came to this place by that route," said he. "If we once reach that lake we will be all right."
"We ought to have a large flat-bottomed boat," replied our hero, in a thoughtful manner. "We could then take our horses with us."
"We have the boat already," Mr. Vincent hastened to reply. "It is a large one, and is used to transport blocks of stone from the quarry about ten miles above the city."
"That settles it, then," said our hero, in a matter-of-fact way.
The interview now being at an end, Van sought his companions and told them of the plan for leaving the place and the African wilds forever.
All seemed much elated over it save Joe. The boy only shook his head in a wistful manner and said:
"I am glad you are going to leave and hope you will have the best of luck, and finally reach your own country. As for me, I am satisfied that I will never leave Africa."
"What, Joe? Aren't you going with us?" asked Jack Howard, in surprise.
"Oh, yes – that is, I will make the start with you. To tell the truth, I feel as – as though I am not going to live long."
"Nonsense!" cried all hands in a breath.
"I have a presentiment that way, and I know it will come true," persisted the boy.
Joe's words were spoken in such an earnest manner that a grave feeling came over all hands in spite of themselves.
During the day they walked about the city a good deal, and toward evening Joe was as happy as any of them.
Van noticed that a large number of the population had congregated to the western portion of the walled-in place.
Presently he saw the man whom he had knocked down among them, and he began to grow suspicious.
"They are getting ready to start a riot," he thought. "I must see my father and get him to start the first thing in the morning."
Our friends were on their way back to the house of the president when Van caught a glimpse of this man.
The villain – for such he was – cast a look of intense hate at the boy, and then, before his intention could be designed, he sprang forward and flung his knife full at our hero's breast.
Van made a nimble dodge and escaped the blade, but a cry of anguish behind him told him that it had struck some one else.
Turning quickly, he beheld Joe reeling backward with the knife sticking in his breast.
Jack Howard caught the wounded boy in his arms, and then, quick as a flash, Van turned and leveled his rifle at the cowardly murderer.
Crack! As the report rang out, the man threw up his arms and fell dead to the ground.
CHAPTER XXIII.
UTOPIA IS LEFT BEHIND
As soon as Van saw that his shot had not been wasted he hurried to the side of Joe, who was now lying on the ground, with his head resting on Jack Howard's arm.
The wounded boy was breathing heavily, and a single glance told our hero that he had but a few minutes to live.
"Loosen his shirt collar and give him some air," said Dr. Pestle. "The knife has touched a vital spot, and it is only a question of a very few minutes before the little fellow will die."
Jack at once unbuttoned Joe's shirt.
As he did so he turned as pale as death and a strange cry came from his lips.
"What is the matter?" exclaimed the doctor, springing to his side.
"Joe is a girl!" came from Jack's pallid lips.
His startling words seemed to bring the wounded one to consciousness, for at that moment the large eyes opened.
"Yes, I am a girl," came from the feeble lips, which were fast turning blue. "Mr. Howard, promise me that you will not hate me for following you in this guise when you think of me in after life! I followed you because I was left alone in the world, and because I – I – I loved you!"
"Great God!" exclaimed Jack. "Surely you are not Masie Langford, the girl we met almost at the commencement of our trip?"
"I am, Mr. Howard. I – I – "
Jack Howard's companions were forced to turn their heads.
The emotion the young Englishman displayed was something awful.
He had frequently spoken of Masie Langford as the only girl he had ever met who would suit him for a wife, and now she lay, dying in his arms.
What Howard whispered to the dying girl will never be known, but whatever it was it caused her face to light up with a heavenly smile, then the lips of the two met, and Masie Langford, alias Joe, fell back dead.
The discharge of Van's rifle had caused a large crowd to gather, and when the city officer's friends saw him lying dead upon the ground murmurs of rage went up from their lips.
But as no assault was made upon them, our friends did not notice them much.
Poppet, who had been with the party since they started out to examine the city, and who was an eye-witness of all that had taken place in the past few minutes, dispatched a couple of men for a litter.
The necessary article was procured in a very few minutes, and the body of the slain girl being placed on it, the party set out for the president's house.
But few words were exchanged on the way, and when they reached the house, a gloom seemed to have settled upon all hands.
As soon as Van's father learned of what had taken place, he was for leaving the city at once.
"There is yet an hour before darkness," said he, "and I will have it announced that the friends of the murdered girl – or rather boy, as they think – desire the body to be buried outside the wall. Then those who are going to leave can take to the boat and leave the city behind them forever."
"That is true," returned Van; "but I have not seen Metha Arundel yet."
"I have, if you have not. Her father says they are ready to go at ten minutes' notice."
"Very well, then. I will go after them at once."
The distance to the house of the Arundels was not great, and Van soon reached it, finding what his father had said to be true.
Arundel was an Englishman, and as he was a sworn friend of Vincent's, he was ready to stick to him in anything he undertook.
His daughter had really fallen in love with Van, and, of course, she was only too glad to go.
The father and daughter mounted their horses, taking what few things they could carry, and then Van led them to the door of his father's house, where the funeral procession had already formed.
When the elder Vincent saw that all were on hand he gave the order to start.
About fifty of the Utopians accompanied them to witness the burial.
There was a gate at the eastern wall similar to the other one, and when our friends passed through this they saw a broad river in front of them.
A large, flat-bottomed boat was moored to the shore not over a hundred yards away.
A number of the Utopians promptly set to work to dig a grave in the spot selected by Jack Howard.
When it was ready Prof. Drearland repeated a short prayer, and the body of the brave girl, who had shared the dangers and hardships of the explorers, was tenderly laid to rest.
Jack was the last to leave the grave, and, when he did so, he noticed that his friends had already gathered upon the boat.
The Utopians who came with them to witness and assist in the burial of the girl, were standing at the gate waiting for them, thinking that the strangers were merely examining the boat.
It was fast growing dark, and casting a last look at the grave of Masie Langford, Jack Howard led his horse down to the water's edge and boarded the scowlike craft.
He had scarcely done so when he felt the boat moving.
There was ample cause for this, since all hands had seized poles and were pushing with all their might.
Five minutes later the boat was in the middle of the stream, while the Utopians, who had been left standing at the gate, were running up and down the river bank in a state of wild excitement.
But darkness and the swift current of the river soon lost them to view.
Van's father, though his left leg was missing from the knee down, was quite spry, and he insisted that he should have charge of the boat during the night.
He was allowed to have his own way, and when the sun arose the next morning they were nearly a hundred miles from the African Utopia.
The current of the river was swift and steady, and when two days had slipped by the boat entered a large body of water, which the elder Vincent said was Lake Tanganyika.
We will not dwell on the voyage down the lake, but suffice it to say that it was really the body of water they supposed it to be, and in due time they arrived at the town of Ujiji, which was the nearest to anything like civilization they had seen since they started on their journey, barring the African Utopia, of course.
They were lucky enough to meet a party of Englishmen at this place, who were just about to start for Zanzibar.
One of them happened to be an acquaintance of Jack Howard's, and that made things satisfactory between the two parties, so they formed into one and set out for the coast.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CONCLUSION
It was nearly two months after our friends left the hidden city of Utopia before they arrived at Zanzibar, on the east coast of Africa.
At the request of Prof. Drearland they had kept all their wonderful discoveries to themselves.
Long before they reached the seacoast, Van and Metha Arundel had come to an understanding, and it was known to all their friends that they were engaged to be married when they reached a suitable age.
After a week's stay in Zanzibar – which, by the way, is not the nicest place in the world in which to sojourn – they embarked aboard a ship bound for London.
At the end of a rather tedious voyage they stepped on the docks of the famous British city.
It was here that the party became split.
Jack Howard, Dr. Pestle and Prof. Drearland had reached their home, and here they concluded to remain for the present.
A couple of weeks later Van Vincent, his father, Lank Edwards and Arundel and his daughter, Metha, embarked for New York.
They did not tarry long in this city after their arrival, but at once set out for the homestead of the Vincents in the quiet little country village.
Almost everybody in the village knew our hero, and when he stepped from the train with the handsome Metha by his side, the simple country folk were much mystified.
Before he had walked a hundred yards from the depot Van learned from one of his old friends that the house he had lived in so long was in the hands of the lawyer who had always done his uncle's business.
Our hero led the way to the best hotel in the village, and here the party put up.
Through the agency of his former employer Van got a good lawyer to take his case, and in his hands he placed the confession of Doc Clancy.
About a week later the village was agog with excitement over the arrest of Lawyer – , who was one of the richest and most influential men in the county.
But when it became known that he was implicated in the murder that had caused so much excitement several months before, the excitement reached a fever heat.
Well, the next thing to take place was a trial, which was a long and tedious one, as such trials usually are.
When it did finally come to an end, it resulted in complete victory for Van Vincent.
The rascally lawyer received a sentence of twenty years in the State prison for the part he had played in the murder and fraud.
He is now serving out the sentence; but the last we heard of him he was not likely to live until it expired, as his health was very poor.
A few of the old villagers recognized Van's father, and he was given a royal welcome back to his native place.
Arundel, who was an Englishman by birth, concluded to remain in America the rest of his life.
Four years later Jack Howard, Dr. Pestle and Prof. Drearland made a trip to America.
They not only came to see the best country on the face of the globe, but to attend a wedding as well.
The reader will of course guess the happy couple.
They were our hero, Van Vincent, and the pretty Metha Arundel, who had been born and reared in the African Utopia.
Van asked the professor about his book, but the learned man claimed that he had not yet finished it to his taste.
However, he gave him a copy of the title page, which read as follows:
"Across the Dark Continent. Being the remarkable adventures and discoveries of an exploring party of six, with biographical sketches and portraits. By Prof. Drearland, the Greatest of Modern Explorers."
If this book ever gets in print I would advise the reader to peruse it carefully, as it contains many details and minor discoveries that we have been compelled to leave out of this story.
We have just learned at this point of our writing that Jack Howard is making preparations to lead a party to the wonderful African Utopia.
Since the death of Masie Langford, Jack has never been exactly himself, and the poor fellow, no doubt, wants to get back to the balmy African clime and visit the grave of the girl who loved him, and who, for the sake of being at his side, traveled in the guise of a boy until she met her death at the hands of a cruel assassin.
And now we have reached the end of our story, which would never have been written had it not been for Van Vincent's vow.