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rO-DAif-S SHORT STORY.] The…

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rO-DAif-S SHORT STORY.] The Mountain Avengers. -0 STORY OF SPANISH VENGEANCE. Though many long yeasrs have passed away since the terrible incidents occurred that I am about to relate the vivid impression, the horror of the awful adventure, remains indelibly fixed upon my memory. It was on .September 5, 1857, that, accompanied by a true and trusted friend, I entered Cordova on an errand of life and death. Cordova, we found, was a thorough Spanish town all over, from its pointed pavement to its chimneyless roofs, with its grated balconies and its green blinds. Bat whi t was it that had struck me and arrested Ill)" attention, causing me to shudder as I thoughtf of my perilous mission? It was not the Christian cathedral, nor the Moorish mosque, nor the five or six palm trees shaking their verdant fans. No; but it was the long, continuous, splendid horison behind the city, armed by the mountain chain of the Sierra Boreno, before which Cordova stood out like a white Lroati-piece on a background of indigo. Those mountains bad for over a week been my only thought, to penetrate within their precin-cts my only de ire. And yet I was well aware the lone wilds were infested by stags, boars, and banditti, and I was now boldly about to penetrate into the ravines of the Black Mountains in an endeavour to save a brother's life at peril of my own. I had received only a few days before at Granada a note of warning, and at once had started on my adventurous and dangerous mission. j Upon entering an hotel I found a second note awaiting me, but not from the same hand. I had been informed that a communi- cation would await me at the Golden Fleece, Cordova, a.nd in great agitation I tore open the paper the moment I was shown with my friends into a private room. The contents cf this second epistle were short and precise. Senor Charles Dudley, a guide, will await you without the town, on the Sierra Road, at two h 111; if you desire to again behold your brother, fail not.—Signed, Juan Perez, of the Mountain Band. An ominous and grim signature, truly, Charley." said my friend, a tall, strapping fellow of 32-three years my senior. I can't quite make the matter out, Ted. The note I had sent to me at Granada was writt-en by a female, who informed me my unfortunate brother had been decoyed from the town here and been carried off into the mountains, and. aware of poor Dick's reck- leg disposition, I fear some dire ill may yet happen to him." "It i" evident he is all right at present, Charley. "Heaven grant it may be so, but we ehall know all in a few hours!" "Ye8! They have ohoeen an early one for our start "Which proves, Barton, that my poor brother has fallen in bad hands. We have to deal with thorough birds of prey!" "No doubt about that, and how Dick fell mto their power I can't make out!" "Well, we shall soon know all. We will now have some refreshment and a bit of a rest, and then we shall be in good trim for our expedition to the haunt of the Mountain Band." A little before two in the morning, emerging from the hotel, and mounting a couple of mules that, obedient to our orders, were awaiting us at its doors, we rode off. A mile or so beyond the town we were accosted by a stranger mounted on a spotted horse, and wearing the costume of the Manchegos—that to say, jacket, trousers, and cap made of goatskin with the hair turned out. This dress gave the man a wild appearance, which did but add its part to our perilous mission. The ground between Cordova and the foot of the mountains appeared to me, as well as I could judge it by the moonlight, to be veined or streaked like a large slab of red marble. It abounded in ravines, furrowed by the burning heat, and the road sloped and winded through the plain according to the accidents of the ?oil. When we arrived, led by our silent guide, at the- mot proximate accent of the sierra, O. mountain, it was about four o clock, and ?ne moon was emitting sufficient light to have enabled one to read a letter. There was no ncise of any kind. The mountains appeared to come towards us" with religious silence. Gradually the path we were taking seemed to sink beneath a dark arcade, which looked very much like the throat of a monster sit- ting a-squat and employed in eating a serpent. After we had entered this dark glen I caught sight of a cross nailed to a tree. There was a bunoh of consecrated boxwood hanging over it. and the following inscrip- tion in white letters were painted across it: On this spot Count Roderigo de Zueleka was assassinated in the year 1855. Ten yards further on there was another cross, only it stood on the other side of the path. This second inscription announced: Here was assassinated his son, Hernandes de Zueleka. My blood now ran cold in my veins as I thought of my brother, and what might be his fate, and, perchace, my own. In less than a mile my friend and I counted eighteen ciosses, grim memories of I cnme. The hill had now a sharp ascent, and as we went up the light appeared to be break- ing in upon us. The path, six or eight feet in width, was flanked by the sierra on our left, whilst on our right gaped a precipice, which became deeper every minute. At the bottom of this precipice it was still quite dark, and, dismounting from his horse as we arrived at a little narrow, rugged path- way leading down into the grim depths, with a sardonic kind of grin, our guide, pointing below, exclaimed:— "We have arrived. Descend you are waited for!" Giving now a wild shout, and firing a musket he oarried. our taciturn and morose guide, to our astonishment, darted away. His place was filled by the tall figare of a man, shrouded in a black cloak and with a velvet mask upon his face, whose rose up before us like a weird grim shadow from the other world. In a deep, sepulchral voice the masked stranger now bade us follow, and in fear and amaze, and with a terrible foreboding of coming ill, I kept on, my companion walk- in ? in my footsteps. Warily watching our fresh guide, we were presently startled by his sudden disappear- ance in the very side of the chasm. A cleft, a huge fissure in the rock. now led 1]8 into an apparent vaulted passage, though it was. we soon found, in reality the mouth of a cavern, the further end of which was barred by a door. All was dark until this was reached, and then the obstacle to our prcgw--> was pnshed open hy our guide; my friend was driven rudely aside, whilst I was Tyushed forwards into a spacious vault, dimly ligtted bya.n iron lamp that wail suspended from tho roof. It was a strange, wild soene. and in awe, wonder, and alarm I stood speechless, the masked guide behind me, and an assemblage of a dozen or more, all with the same cover- ing over their features, sitting round a table in the centre of the cavern. Recovering from my stupefaction, I, now standing erect and looking fearlessly round upon that back band of masked strangers, in a hoarse voice of anger and scorn ex- claimed "Who—what are you, men? and what have you dene with my brother?" "Yon have asked two questions at a breath," said a 11.11 bearded member of that mystic com lavp, seated at the head of the table. I will answer yonr fit query by informing you I a 1). the leader of a band of Sccref Aveing >rs "Avengers! Not brigand.31 I supposed from the note I received at Granada—■a warn- ing note that my brother was in danger—a warning from a ladY-" My wife!" cried the leader of that moan- tain band, as he started from his seat. "Your wife!" I gasped, turning icy cold with fear and rlismay. "My wife, yes! who. discovering that her English lover had fallen into the power of her wronged husband, wrote to you. his brother, with the hdpe you could save him." Save him!" I cried hoarsely, then you —you have destroyed him! You have mur- dered him!" No, Senor Charles Dudley. MZ guilty wife and her lover were judged and sentenced by the Mountain Band of Secret Avengers! The guilty pair are now together! You can see them! Show the senor how we Spaniards reward infidelity." Like one in a dream I now followed my guide of a moment before. Led to a corner of the oavera, a mass of drapery that con- cealed an inner reoe.-ts was drawn aside. All was dark in that grim cavity; but. ta-king a small hand lamp from one of the masked band, the guide, seizing my arm, drew me into that dark recess, and pointing to the ground as <1e held low the light, exclaimed: "See! they are there!" With a wild thrill cf«horror, I now, bending forward, beheld my unfortunate brother and a young and lovely woman lying side by side upon the ground at my fee-t y Both were dead; and in bitter mockery the assassins a.nd avengers had joined their hands, and there they lay as though in sleep; but the livid, white pallor upon the features of each told it was the sleep of death. Stewing forward and stooping down, I beheld, around the neck of the victims, a horrid red ring, a dark crimson streak. In a fascination of horror, I remained for a few moments glaring at the sight before me. and then, impelled by a. sudden impulse, I pLaoed my hand npon t2m.«boaktar <rf 1JIII.ad;D.. Date wife who had been cruelly done to death by the mountain band. A wild cry of terror escaped my lips, as the head, turning o'er, rolled along the ground, the dark tresses of bealtiful bair trailing behind it like a black veil. I understood now the meaning of those crimson streaks. The heads of the hapless pair had been severed from their bodies. So overcome was I with horror at the ghastly sight that, reeling back, I fell with a heavy thud to the ground, rendered uncon- scious by a fearful blow I sustained as I struck against the rocky walls of the cave of death. When returning once more to my senses ray eyes were dazzled by the rays of the rising sun, and, glancing round, I found I had been placed with my back to a tree, close by the spot where the first guide had disappeared. Ted Barton was kneeling beside me watching my actions nervously. A cry of joy escaped his lips as I staggered to my feet. "Thank God, Charley, you are all right! I was brought here first by half-a-dozen of those masked fellows, and four more of the beggars deposited you here a minute or two ago, coolly telling me as they left that unless we both made ail haste back to Cor- dova we might be favoured by a bullet m our brains!" Our mules grazing upon the herbage close at hand, we at once mounted them, in three hours afterwards safely reaching our hotel. Leaving Cordova the same da*: we made for Granada, and a fortnight ffom that terrible visit to the Sierra Moreno trod once more on British soil.

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