Jack Harkaway and His Son's Escape from the Brigands of Greece Part 2

"Don't, d.i.c.k; don't, I beg."

"Or, if you object to the costume of the gentler s.e.x, what do you say to the spangles and wand of a harlequin?"

"Do you really think that such a costume would become me?"

"Do I think?" iterated d.i.c.k. "Do I _know!_ Of course it would become you. You will look the part to the life: it wants a figure to show off such a dress and to be shown off by it."

"But what about my--my wooden legs, d.i.c.k?"

"Oh, I'll provide you with cork ones, and here they are," said Harvey, producing a pair.

And so it was settled.

Mr. Mole was to go to the ball, and his disguise was to be well-known spangles and colours of a harlequin.

Harvey himself chose a clown's costume and carried over his shoulder Mole's wooden legs, in case any thing happened to the cork ones he was walking on for the first time.

Harkaway was to go as a knight of old.

Magog Brand selected the character of Quasimodo, the hunchback of Notre Dame.

Jefferson selected the character of Julius Caesar, a costume which his fine, stalwart form set off to considerable advantage.

Mrs. Harkaway was to go as Diana, the huntress, and Mrs. Harvey made Marie Stuart her choice.

Little Emily and Paquita went in dresses of the Charles the Second period.

These young ladies were escorted by young Jack and Harry Girdwood, who were richly habited as young Venetian n.o.bles of the sixteenth century.

As they pa.s.sed through the garden door a man stood in their path.

He wore a long serge gown, with a cowl, like a mendicant monk, and as they approached he put out his open hand for alms.

"Bother the beggars!" said Mr. Mole, tartly.

The monk shrank back into his cowl, and stood aside while the party went by.

The garden door was held by the maid servant while they pa.s.sed on, and when they were out of hearing, she dropped a small silver coin into the mendicant friar's hand.

"There," she said, "I can spare you something, father, although those rich English cannot or will not, the heretics and pagans!"

The friar, who was seemingly an aged man, muttered his thanks, and the girl retired and closed the door, locking it behind her.

No sooner was the door closed than the mendicant monk whistled a low but very distinct note, and lo! two men appeared upon the scene.

It looked as though they had just come up trap-doors in the earth, so suddenly did they show in sight.

"Captain Mathias," said the disguised monk to the first who came up, "I have learnt all we wish to know."

"You have?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, not the man addressed by the mendicant monk, but the other. "Out with it, then."

"Still your impatience, Toro, if you can.--"

"Bah!"

"Well, then, learn that Mole goes as--"

"Bother Mole!" interrupted Toro, harshly. "How does our great foe go?"

"Harkaway?"

"Yes."

"An English knight of old."

"It shall be my task," said Toro, "to keep up his character, and give it a realistic look by a hand-to-hand fight."

"Don't be rash," said the mendicant friar, "or you may chance to be beaten."

"I can risk my life on it."

"You have--you do; every hour that you live here imperils it. Did you see the party go?"

"I did," said Mathias.

The latter was no other than the captain of the brigands. Already they were upon a footing of equality, for the two adventurers had had opportunities, which they had not failed to seize.

They had courage, ready wit, presence of mind, boldness daring, and cunning, and so it fell out that they who had made the acquaintance of the brigand's gang under such very unpleasant auspices, became two of the princ.i.p.al members of it within a few days.

But to resume.

"Tell me, Hunston," said Toro, "does Jefferson go to the ball?"

"Yes."

"How disguised?"

"Julius Caesar."

The Italian said nothing, but his lips moved, and his lowering brow was as expressive as words could be to his old comrade.

It boded ill for Jefferson.

They had met in fair fight, and he, Toro, had been defeated.

That defeat was as bitter as gall to him.

He would be avenged.