CHAPTER VI.

THE SLAVE OF THE DIAMOND MINES.

The ship on which Jack Harkaway was a prisoner took out a general cargo for the Brazils.

Captain Moreland at once put Jack at his ease.

He assured him that there was no reason why he should be treated harshly.

The vessel had not been two hours at sea before he requested his presence in his cabin.

Jack was not in an enviable position, nor was he in an amicable frame of mind, but he felt that he was in the captain's power, and it would be advisable for him to treat him with civility.

The colored steward placed a couple of bottles with glasses on the table, as well as a box of cigars, and retired.

"Be seated," said the captain. "You smoke, I presume?"

"Yes," replied Jack.

"Help yourself," continued Moreland, pushing the box of cigars over to him. "The wine is port and sherry; which do you prefer?"

Jack liked sherry, and they pledged one another.

He now had a good opportunity of looking at Moreland, who was a spare, short man, with reddish hair and small, twinkling eyes, which appeared to have a treacherous expression.

"I wish to have you as my friend and companion during our voyage," began Moreland.

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure," replied Jack.

"Of course I need not conceal anything from you?"

"It is useless."

"Well, I admit that I have been paid handsomely by Vasquez, the bandit, to convey you to Rio. He, I believe, was employed by some enemy of yours."

"Precisely. I know all that."

"I shall enjoy your society during the voyage, for I see you are an educated gentleman, and your companionship cannot fail to be agreeable."

"Thank you for the compliment," exclaimed Jack, who could not help thinking that there was something lurking behind this extraordinary civility.

"When you arrive at Rio our intimacy ceases, for I shall discharge cargo, take in another of bags of coffee, and return to 'Frisco."

"Am I to be set free then?"

"Certainly," answered Moreland.

"I cannot understand that."

"It is simple enough. Your enemy wishes to get you out of the way for a time. That is all."

"I heard," said Jack, "that I was, in some mysterious way, to be sent as a slave to the diamond mines."

"Not by me, at all events," laughed the captain.

"Are you sure?"

"Perfectly. My instructions are simply to land you at Rio, and there will end my duty as regards you."

Jack could not make this out.

He was forced, however, to be content with the assurance given him by Captain Moreland, and there the conversation ended.

There were plenty of books in the cabin. He messed with Moreland. Everything he wanted was placed at his service, and he really had a very pleasant voyage round Cape Horn.

The captain succeeded in thoroughly gaining his confidence, and he soon voted him an excellent fellow, from whom he would be sorry to part when the time came.

At length Rio was reached, and as Jack was almost without money, Moreland volunteered to advance him some for current expenses, taking in return a sight draft on his agent in San Francisco.

When the ship swung into the dock, and the bills of lading had been given to the consignees, Moreland invited Jack to dine with him.

"I know the city," he remarked, "and can take you to a good place."

Jack accepted the invitation, and they walked out together.

As they quitted the ship, the captain slipped something into Harkaway's pocket, without the action being perceived.

They walked to the restaurant indicated by Moreland, and Jack's suspicions returned as he saw it was in a low part of the town.

What was his professed friend's object in steering him toward the slums, as he was evidently doing?

"Not a very savory neighborhood, this," he ventured to observe.

"No, but you will be amply compensated, my friend, by the cooking, at the little hotel we are in search of."

"Oh, I comprehend," said Jack. "I am prepared to sacrifice a great deal for artistic cooking."

They soon reached a dingy-looking inn, where the waiters and landlord nodded familiarly to the captain, as if he was an old customer.

The room into which they were ushered was dark and dirty, the table-cloths uninviting, and directly Jack saw the place he had an admonition of coming evil.

"Really," he remarked, "this is as bad as Zola's _Assommoir_. I can't congratulate you on your taste."

"Wait a while," responded Moreland. "Landlord, a bottle of wine, and the best dinner you can get ready."

"Si, signor," replied the proprietor, who was a swarthy, thick-set, beetle-browed Spaniard.

The wine was produced, and seemed to Jack to have a peculiar flavor.

Being thirsty, he drank heartily of it, while Moreland contented himself with sipping it.

"You don't drink?" observed Harkaway.

"Excuse me, I rarely do before eating; it takes away my appetite."

A dizziness began to attack Jack, and a soft, sensuous, dreamy feeling stole over him.

What could it mean?

Had he been brought into the place by his kind friend, the captain, to be drugged and betrayed into some carefully set trap?

Indeed, it looked like it.

"What is the time?" said the captain.

"I have no watch," replied Jack. "Vasquez kindly relieved me of that trifle in the Nappa Valley."

"I had mine when I left the ship," continued Moreland, "and I have been with no one but you."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Jack.

It appeared as if there was some latent accusation in this remark.

"Oh, nothing," answered the captain. "I have to report to the American Consul at three, and it is necessary that I should know the time."

He began to search in all his pockets.

Jack watched him with an abstracted air, while his stupor increased, and it seemed all the time as if it was too much trouble for him to speak.

"Very odd where that watch of mine is gone to," continued Moreland.

"Very," ejaculated Harkaway.

"Are you sure you have not taken it?"

"I?"

Jack was dumbfounded with astonishment, and could only stare at Moreland.

"I must have this investigated," said the latter. "Waiter!"

"Signor?"

"Call an officer--quick!"

Jack was like one in a dream.

He could not believe that what he heard was real.

Some insidious drug had been mixed with the wine, and like the opium-eater, he was seeing and hearing things that did not exist.

Presently the waiter returned with a policeman.

"Who wants me?" he inquired.

"I do. Arrest and search that man. I accuse him of stealing my watch."

He pointed to Harkaway, whom the officer approached.

Jack endeavored to rise and strike his false friend, but he seemed to have lost all power over his limbs.

Obscured as his intellect was, however, by the drugged wine, he saw that he was the victim of an infamous plot, the depth of which, as yet, he could scarcely gauge.

Moreland had won his confidence to prevent his making a charge of abduction against him on their arrival in Rio.

That was clear enough.

What was to follow remained for coming events to develop.

The officer began to search Jack, who laughed in a half imbecile manner, as if it was a good joke, and made no resistance.

In his coat pocket were found a watch and chain.

"Is that yours?" asked the officer, holding it up.

"Yes. I will swear to it. Besides, my name is on the case. It was a present to me. Oh! the ingratitude of some people!"

"Shall I arrest the thief?"

"Yes; lock him up. I will follow and make the complaint."

Jack was dragged rudely from the room to the police court, which was not far off.

Captain Moreland hastily settled the bill and followed his victim.

A magistrate was sitting on the bench, and Jack soon had a specimen of how swiftly justice is administered in Brazil.

Moreland told his story, stating how he had given the prisoner a passage from San Francisco, and how he had returned his kindness by stealing his watch, while under the influence of liquor.

"He is drunk now," he added, "or perhaps he would not have done it."

"Do you press the charge?" asked the court.

"It is my duty to society to do so."

Turning to the prisoner, the court asked him if he had anything to say.

Jack was more and more under the influence of the drug, whose effects made themselves felt in a greater degree every minute.

He thought he was dreaming, and continued to laugh at what he thought was an excellent joke.

"No," he replied.

"I shall sentence you to five years' hard labor in the mines!" exclaimed the magistrate.

"That's all right," replied Jack; "I knew that was coming."

He laughed louder than ever.

The jailer took him to a cell and locked him up. He soon fell into a profound slumber, from which he did not awake until the following morning.

Captain Moreland was perfectly satisfied, for he fulfilled his contract with his employer to the letter.

There was no chance of his victim's being pardoned, and little of his escaping.

Practically, he was out of the way for five years, during which time Lord Maltravers could prosecute his plans with regard to Miss Vanhoosen.

Perhaps the hardships he would encounter in the mines might enfeeble his magnificent physique, and kill him before his sentence expired.

When Jack woke up in his cell he pressed his hand to his aching head and exclaimed:

"Where the deuce am I?"

He sat up and reflected.

"Seems to me," he continued, "I had a dream. Moreland invited me to dine; accused me of stealing his watch. Hang his impudence! I was arrested, and got five years in the mines. _Was_ it a dream?"

A look at the cell convinced him that it was not so much a dream as a terrible reality.

The perspiration broke out all over him, and he began to feel terribly alarmed.

Presently the jailer entered with a suit of convict's clothes and some breakfast.

"Eat and dress," he said.

"Certainly," replied Jack; "but let me ask you a few questions."

"Be brief."

"Am I a convict?"

"You are."

"Is there no appeal? Cannot I communicate with the English or American Consul?"

"No time for that," replied the jailer. "In half an hour the chain-gang starts for the mines, and you are one of them."

"For heaven's sake, do something for me!"

The jailer shook his head.

"I am innocent," asseverated Jack.

"The stolen property was found on you. It is a clear case. An angel could not save you."

"But I assure you, my friend, that I am innocent. It is a base conspiracy of which I am the victim."

"Eat and dress!" said the jailer, harshly. "In half an hour I shall come and fix the chain on you."

With these words he banged to the door with a hollow, sepulchral sound, which to Jack sounded like the knell of doom.

He recognized the fact that he was indeed a slave.

"Well," he muttered, "I must admit it was cleverly done; to repine is useless. I will make the best of the situation. Harvey, if not mortally wounded, will come after me. Thanks to what Elise said, my friends know where I am."

He deliberately ate his breakfast, and then attired himself in the hideous yellow suit of a convict sent to the mines.

In the present there was no hope.

It was to the future that he had to look for comfort, assistance and freedom.

Many were the wild tales he had heard of the sufferings in the mines by the poor creatures condemned to toil there.

His heart sank within him as he recalled these stories.

Yet in the midst of all his misery the fairy-like form of Lena Vanhoosen would come before him.

She seemed to be ever bidding him hope on, and telling him that it is always darkest before dawn.

When the half hour was up the jailer, relentless as fate itself, appeared, and fastened a chain around his ankle.

In the court-yard of the prison twenty unfortunates, similarly situated, were assembled.

They were all chained together, and at the word "March," the gate was thrown open and they slowly filed out.

Part of the journey was performed by railway, the convicts having a special car, but a considerable distance had to be traversed on foot, and this was painful and toilsome.

Every week the ranks of the miners, depleted by sickness and death, were reinforced by fresh batches of criminals.

It was seldom that a mine slave lasted longer than five years.

The wretches, cruelly tasked and badly fed, broke down and perished miserably.

The government worked the mines for its own benefit, entirely by convict labor, and made a handsome profit out of it, for the labor cost them nothing but what they paid for food, and often diamonds of large size, first water, and great value were found when the mines were reached. The prisoners were detailed to certain sections, and Jack had to work underground with a desperate-looking ruffian whose name was Alfonso.

The most favored prisoners worked above ground, receiving the "dirt" as it came up the shafts, and washing it in the streams which flowed down from the sides of the mountains.

These were watched by overseers, and the diamonds were, when found, handed to superintendents.

The men worked in couples, and were allowed to talk. They had three meals a day of coarse food, and slept in wooden huts at night, laboring from dawn to dusk.

Jack and Alfonso were supplied with a pickax, a shovel and a basket.

They first picked down the earth or diamond-studded dirt, then shoveled it into the basket, afterward carrying it to the nearest shaft, where it was taken in hand by others, and sent up to the surface.

"What are you in for?" asked Alfonso.

"They say I took a man's watch, and I got five years," replied Jack.

"That's nothing," continued Alfonso; "I killed my man, and I was sent 'down' for life."

Jack shuddered.

He was in the company of a murderer.

"Don't I wish I could get away!" continued the ruffian.

"What would you do?" asked Jack.

"Can you keep a secret?"

"I guess so."

"I tried to escape, but the soldiers, who are always on guard, night and day, saw me and fired. They brought me down. I've the bullet in my leg now."

"Is that so?"

"Yes; but they didn't get it," said Alfonso, laughing.

"It? What do you mean by 'it'?"

"The diamond, my lad. I've got the biggest beauty that ever came out of the mines."

"You have?"

"Yes, sir. It's worth a king's ransom. It ought to be in the crown of a royal personage. It's fit for an emperor."

"Is it so fine?"

"Magnificent. It's as big as the Koh-i-noor, which is the largest in the world. I shall never get out, though, so what use is it?"

He sighed deeply.

"Why don't you give it to the authorities?" inquired Jack.

"Can you tell me why I should?"

"No."

"Do they treat us too well?"

"No, indeed."

"Aren't we slaves and dogs, and lead a life of utter and hopeless misery?"

"Very true."

"They shall never have it. No, my lad. It's safe; but I've taken a fancy to you, and if anything happens to me, I want you to know where it is."

Jack expressed his thankfulness for this proof of the convict's good will.

"Where is it?" he asked, his curiosity being aroused.

The convict bared his right leg and advanced to the lamp which gave them the light by which they were working.

"Any one around?" he asked.

"I can't see any one," replied Jack.

"You never can tell when the overseers come around. They're on the spy all the time."

"We are alone," Jack said.

"See here, then."

Alfonso took his hand and placed it on his flesh. Jack felt a lump under the skin.

"What's that?" he asked.

"The diamond," replied Alfonso, under his breath.

"Impossible! how could it get there?" Jack asked, incredulously.

"Didn't I tell you they brought me down with a bullet?"

"Yes."

"Well, they saw it had lodged just under the skin, and the brutes didn't think it worth while to get the doctor to cut it out. A day or two afterward I found the diamond."

"Well?"

"So I takes a knife and cuts it out myself, and seeing there was room for the bullet, I shoved the diamond into the hole and let the skin grow over it and there it is now."

"In your body?"

"In my living body," replied Alfonso, "and no word of a lie about it."

"Didn't it hurt?"

"I'll bet you it did. I suffered the tortures of the damned for weeks, and it hurts now if I strain myself or lie on that side."

Jack was overpowered with astonishment.

"You've got grit in you," he remarked.

"Didn't I tell you I killed my man? Any one who's got pluck enough to slay his enemy and risk the gallows can do anything," answered Alfonso.

"What do you want me to do?" inquired Jack.

"If I die, cut it out."

"And then?"

"Hide it somewhere. I can't tell you where. We must think."

Suddenly a mine-boss came along, with gentle, cat-like footsteps.

"What are you two skulking for?" he asked, exhibiting a rattan, his badge of office.

"Who's skulking?" asked Alfonso, savagely.

"You are."

The murderer looked at him with a foreboding gleam in his eye.

"Pedro," he said, "I warned you once before not to interfere with me."

"It is my duty."

"Let me alone; I'm a desperate man, and I'd just as soon be dead as working here. Do you understand?"

"I understand that you are threatening me," answered Pedro, "and I shall report you."

This "report" meant fifty lashes on the bare back of the prisoner, delivered publicly before retiring to rest.

Alfonso gnashed his teeth savagely.

"Take care," he said.

"I shall report you twice if you do not instantly go to work."

This was intended to convey the fact that the punishment would be doubled, and the number of lashes increased to one hundred.

Alfonso's eyes glared like those of a wild beast.

Jack shrank back, for he felt sure that some terrible tragedy was about to take place.

In any case of disobedience reported by the overseers, the convicts were unmercifully flogged with a rawhide, and Alfonso had been treated to that kind of discipline twice during his period of incarceration.

What wonder that a man condemned for life to the most degrading drudgery, who had no hope of a commutation of his sentence, and who could only expect to die in his chains, should rebel when he thought himself persecuted by those in authority over him?

"I have warned you," said Alfonso, in a strangled voice.

"And I have warned you," replied the keeper.

"Recollect that I have already killed one man."

"Bah!" replied Pedro, the keeper, drawing a pistol. "If you were so much as to raise your little finger toward me, I would stretch you a corpse on this floor."

"What should I be doing to let you?" asked Pedro, with a sneer which was peculiarly aggravating.

Alfonso breathed heavily.

"Do you mean to report me?" he demanded.

"Certainly I do, and you know very well what that means."

"Yes--I--do," answered the convict--speaking with difficulty.

"Shall I tell you?"

"No need of it; my back bears the record."

"For two days in succession, my friend," exclaimed Pedro, who seemed to take a pleasure in tormenting the convict, "you will be flogged in the presence of your companions."

Alfonso's herculean frame trembled, and he shook like an aspen leaf.

"God!" he cried, uplifting his eyes to the dark rock above him, "my time has come--and his."

With a wild gasp he sprang upon Pedro.

Harkaway would have interfered, but he saw that it was useless to make any attempt to separate them.

It was a duel to the death between these two men.

He would only have endangered his own life and have done no good.

Pedro discharged his pistol, as he had threatened to do, but Alfonso received the bullet in his left shoulder without flinching. With his right hand he drove the sharp point of his pick into the skull of the keeper.

Pedro fell with a groan.

Again and again the infuriated convict struck him until, in his mad frenzy, he had smashed his skull into a jelly.

"What have you done?" asked Jack.

"Settled him, any way. There is one mine-boss gone, and the world is rid of another petty tyrant," replied Alfonso.

"And what will become of you?"

"I shall solve the great problem, my friend," said the convict, now a double murderer.

He stooped and picked up the pistol which Pedro had allowed to drop from his hand.

"You do not mean that you will take your own life?"

"That is precisely what I do mean."

"How?"

"Look here!" exclaimed Alfonso. "I take you to be a sensible man, though young. What have I, a slave, to live for? Is it any pleasure to me to exist, as I have been existing for the last year, since I have been in this infernal place?"

"No, I admit that; but----"

"What?"

"While there is life there is hope."

"Not for such as I. Have I not killed this man, almost in self-defense, I may say?"

"I admit it."

"Well, if I live a few hours more they will seize me, flog me till I am in a dying condition, and then hang me. Why should I not die now?"

Harkaway could not see any valid reason why he should prolong his miserable and forfeited existence.

"You are right," he said. "It is clear that suicide in your case is an atonement, if not a virtue."

"Comrade," exclaimed Alfonso, "they say that those who are about to die see future events clearly."

"I have heard that," replied Jack.

"I can see you free and happy."

"Ha!" cried Jack. "When?"

"Before long. I congratulate you. Do not forget what I told you about the diamond."

"I will not."

"Cut it out as soon as I am dead, and then give the alarm at the mouth of the shaft."

"I will; but where shall I put it?"

Alfonso looked wildly around him.

"I don't know. I can't tell," he replied. "My brain is in a whirl. I hear strange voices ringing in my ears. Angels are talking to me. I am conversing with the spirits of the mighty dead and they bid me come to them."

Jack saw now that the man was crazed.

His troubles and his hard lot had weakened his mind, and he was no longer responsible for his actions.

What ought he to do under the circumstances?

If he snatched the pistol from his hand, he would run the risk of being shot, and it would be no charity to the poor wretch to save his life in order that, after cruelly torturing him, the authorities at the mines might take it in a few hours.

Holding out his hand, he said:

"Good-by."

The murderer grasped it warmly.

"You say good-by! Have you anything to add?" he asked.

"Yes. God bless you and----"

Jack hesitated.

"What?"

"Forgive you, for His Son's sake."

"Good! _Adios_, signor."

These were the last words that Alfonso spoke, for he placed the muzzle of the pistol against his right temple and fired.

There was a loud report, which gave out cavernous echoes, a thick smoke, which nearly obscured the light of the lamp, and the murderer fell prostrate over the corpse of the mine boss.

The bullet had done its work only too well.

He died without a word, a sigh, or a groan.