Dyke Darrel the Railroad Detective Part 54

"Where does he live?" Miriam said, eagerly.

"He is staying at this hotel at present."

"Do you think I could see him? It is very important."

"I dare say. You can at least try," smilingly.

The Jewess thanked her good-natured commissioner, and lightly ascended the steps.

"I wish to see Captain Moriz. Is he in?"

"I think so," the man answered after one quick glance at Miriam; "I will inquire."

Miriam waited with growing impatience until the man returned, and was relieved when she heard that the captain was not only there, but would see her.

With wildly beating heart the girl followed her conductor to a large, darkly-furnished room, where, by a table scattered with papers, sat a tall, bronzed seaman.

"I believe you are leaving India to-morrow? Would you mind telling me where you are going?"

"To Africa," a look of surprise crossing his face.

"Are you going to take pa.s.sengers?"

"That was not my intention."

"But if any one asked you, would you refuse?"

"I don't know. I did not want any one on board," Moriz answered uneasily.

"If you knew it would do some one a great service? I am rich, and would pay you well; so do not hesitate on that account."

"Is it you who wish to go?"

Miriam blushed, and bit her lip angrily. She had not intended to betray her secret so soon.

"Yes, it is I, and two other people. Will you take us, and set us down on one of those small islands on the coast, where no one would find us?"

Moriz hesitated; but he could not withstand the eager pleading in the slumbrous eyes, the intense pathos in the sweet voice.

"Yes," he said at last, very slowly, "I will take you on board; but you must be ready by to-morrow night. I cannot wait for stragglers,"

trying to force much severity into his tones.

"Oh, thank you! I am content now. Do not fear; we shall be in time.

Until then adieu," she said softly.

And, with a graceful bow, she departed.

Her next step was in the direction where Phenee was confined.

She found no difficulty in finding the jailer, a hard-looking man enough, though Miriam thought she could see a gentle expression in his eyes when they rested on two young children, whose pale, wasted features gave evidence of close confinement in that dreary place.

"I may win him yet by those little ones," she murmured; "gold will have power to touch his heart for their sakes."

"You wished to see me, senora?"

"Yes. I want you to answer a few questions. First, have you not got Phenee, the Jew, and Diniz Sampayo here?"

"Yes, senora."

"Are they together?"

"No, senora."

"Could it be possible for you to set them free, without fear of detection?" eagerly.

"Yes, senora; but I am not a traitor."

"But think, Vincent: my poor grandfather has done no harm, and he will perish in that horrible place, though innocent. And the Senor Sampayo, as I have proof, bought the poignard himself from my grandfather. Why, then, should you say he stole it?" indignantly.

"It is not I who accused him; my duty here is to guard the prisoners-- not to try them."

"Vincent," Miriam continued, in a low, pleading voice, "you are poor; your little children are pining for want of fresh, pure air. I am rich, and can give you enough money to live in comfort away from this close den. Release my friends, and the power of saving your children shall be yours. Look!" drawing one of the wondering girls to her side, "see how pale and thin she is! Can you refuse my offer when the lives of those you love depend upon it?"

Vincent felt the truth of her words, and knew the only things he cherished on earth, those innocent children, were slowly fading and pining away for want of fresh air.

The man raised his head, and glanced earnestly at the moved expressive face, then in a low, hoa.r.s.e voice he muttered:

"Be it so. I will help the prisoners to escape. I cannot see my little ones dying before my eyes, when an opportunity is given me to save them."

"Then to-morrow at sunset you will bring them to the Golden Lion, I will be there, ready with the money."

"I will not fail, senora. May Heaven forgive me if I am doing wrong!"

After a few instructions, the happy girl went swiftly away, but ere she had moved far, she returned, and paused before Vincent.

"I forgot to ask you about that poor man, Jarima," she said, gravely.

"He did not live long, senora, after he was brought here."

"And his wife--children?"

"Of them I know nothing," he answered quietly.

Ere she continued her homeward way, Miriam sped swiftly toward Jarima's poor home, and knocked gently at the door. It was opened by the eldest of the three children, and forcing a purse of money into his brown hand, the girl whispered sweetly:

"For your mother, little one; from a friend," then moved silently away, hurrying homeward to await patiently for the long hours to pa.s.s, ere her grandfather would be released.

Vincent, true to his word, gathered his few belongings together, and when the evening came, went softly to the cells in which his prisoners lay, and, setting them free, told them to follow him.