The Blue Bandit of the Bread Mountains.
CHAPTER I.
ALONE
he stood upon the scaffold, and the breeze blowing back
his raven-black hair, thus addressed the aristocratic
assemblage:
"My Lord Duke, my lords, ladies, and gentlemen and in
this comprehensive title I include the chaplain and the
executioner I declare on my honour that I am not guilty of the
crime that has been laid to my charge, and for the commission
of which I must shortly die. I did not shoot my mother-in-law;
no, by the walls of this grim Newgate, I swear I did not."
He was overcome by his feelings, and, looking up into the
blue empyrean, wept. The audience were greatly affected,
and also wept. It was "a crying shame" the burly executioner
said, between his sobs; while the governor broke down
completely, and asked for "a brandy and soda." It was speedily
brought, and Montmorency Salvator Nobell, baring his bosom
to the winds of heaven, continued:
"I am now thirty years of age, and thirty years ago I was
born. I am, or rather was, until he disinherited me, the son of
an earl, who basely refusing to support me, drove me headlong
into matrimony. I never loved my wife, I hated my mother-in-law.
Both are now dead. Alas! I love another but no
matter. Miranda Perkins, the daughter of the landlord of the
Plough, I love. I am not guilty of murder. Oh, this is too
much."
He took a silk handkerchief from his pocket and handed
it to the lady who sat in the first seat in row number one,
merely saying, "With my kindest regards;" She kissed it, and
put it in her bag. It was not too dear; her seat, booked at
Mitchell's a fortnight back, had cost only twenty pounds, and
the gift alone was worth that sum. They had never been
introduced; but a great criminal is entitled to certain privileges.
The lady was "the Countess of Minosall." To the other
stall-holder he gave a ring, obtained, in addition to an
acidulated "drop," in a "surprise packet," price one penny
cash down; and so on until of the spectators only one was
without some token of esteem, and to him was given an
order for the pit at the Lyceum, "by favour of Mr. Henry
Irving."
Then he beckoned to the shrinking executioner, and in strong,
clear, resonant tones expressed his willingness to allow the law
to take its course. "How considerate," the audience murmured; but he nodded
pathetically, if approvingly, and the preparations were proceeded
with.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
. .
One minute longer, and it would have been late, but as it
was, just in time the cry of "Reprieve!" rent the air, and,
pursued by six warders, a young girl flew rather than ran into
the yard. "Stop!" she cried. "I hold a reprieve and pardon for the
prisoner. He is not guilty. The 'Boots' confessed last night!"
and she sank fainting to the ground.
In less than a minute Nobell had burst his bonds, and was
holding Miranda Perkins in his arms.
"She lives," he cried, triumphantly, felling to the earth, in
the exuberance of his delight, the Press Association reporter
whose undignified and untimely protest was not heeded. "My
darling, I am free; we leave England to-night."
"To-night," said Lady Minosall, who was deathly pale; "then you won't dine with me?"
"I regret to be obliged to plead a prior engagement."
From that moment Montmorency Salvator Nobell was a
different man.
Who was he then?
Ah, that is the question!
CHAPTER II.
TEN
quadrillion, ten trillion, ten billion, ten million, ten
thousand, ten hundred and ten years, ten months, ten weeks, ten
days, ten hours, ten minutes, and ten seconds had elapsed since
Montmorency Salvator Nobell and Miranda Perkins had been
joined together in holy matrimony, and yet they still lived. Why and wherefore! The answer is simple and easily
expressed. During their travels in foreign climes they had tasted
of the waters of Burton, a remote district in Bessarabia, and
thereby gained perpetual youth. So also had a Page Boy,
who had met them at the door of the prison when Nobell
was released, and having purchased their tickets for "nowhere,"
had never left them during all these years. The Page bore the
name of Cheero.
(N.B. We must again use asterisks.)
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
. .
"What ho, there!" a voice cried from within the Blue
Bandit's mansion.
"Does my Lord speak?" a woman asked, quietly.
"My wife," and Nobell (for he was the famous Blue
Bandit of the Bread Mountains), enfolded her in his arms.
"Miranda," and, fondly, "you did catch the workmen's
train, then, and saved –"
"Twopence," she said, modestly.
"My warrior wife," and he pressed twenty burning kisses on
her mouth, "for a long, long time you shared poverty with me,
and when I founded the 'Blue Bandit gang' you helped me. Ah!
Miranda, look around. What do you see?"
She paused momentarily, and then, with flashing eyes and
heaving bosom, in gentle tones, said, "I see a palace which
covers three miles of land. I see a palace made of gold and
studded with precious stones. I see five hundred men ready to
do your bidding. I see a plethora of valuables and a lack of
necessaries. My Blue Bandit, I die for food."
"Come hither," he said to a servant, and, detaching a pound
of diamonds of the finest water from the door-knob, bade the
menial run to the local pawnbroker and obtain a loan on them.
He did as he was ordered, and in less than five minutes returned.
with sevenpence three farthings, which he deposited with the "Lord High Chamberlain." Miranda's eyes glistened with
delight, but Nobell's face darkened as he scornfully glanced at
the coins, and instantly ordered the execution of the menial,
who was instantly led shrieking to meet his doom.
"The jewels were worth a shilling," Nobell said, ominously,
and six waiters dropped dead from fright.
"We shall have cheese to-night," Miranda, hysterically,
cried.
"Yes, but no tomatoes," her husband replied.
"Slaves, throw open the banquetting hall."
The Page Boy had heard all.
CHAPTER III.
THE
Palace in which the "Blue Bandit" lived was a wonderful
monument of architectural skill and opulent magnificence; and
a short description of it may not be out of place here. Its
extent was three square miles, its walls were of the purest gold,
its doors were coagulated rubies, its windows diamonds, and its
floors Parian marble; truly a grand palace. But Nobell and
Miranda were not happy. The reason has already been hinted
at; there was a scarcity of food, which was due to the fact that
the "stores" having either bought out or "cornered," all the
small shopkeepers had afterwards, in consequence of a grossly
material affection for "profits," put up their shutters and left
Burton "shopless" and the inhabitants "foodless." Terrible,
but true. Food was now at a premium, and the Blue Bandit
was frequently hungry, his wife being invariably in that
unpleasant predicament; the "Page Boy" never ate, he lived
by suction.
"I see the sapphire cart nearing the palace," said Cheero; "and in it I see two bags of coal."
"Two only!"
"Yes, noble Blue Bandit, I see but two; oh, do not tear out
your hair thus wildly, it is cruel to me."
"To you, insolent youth!" and, turning to the guards: "Throw
him into the lowest dungeon, and put one of Rudyard Kipling's
books upon his head."
"Is not one too heavy, my liege, for so youthful a stripling;
shall it not be a few pages of George Meredith, which will
answer the purpose equally well?"
"Silence, caitiff; away with him," and Cheero was dragged
off to the subterranean prison, where he lay moaning until the
grey hues of early morning had displaced the rosy flush of
sunset.
But the Bandit, what of him? Was he happy? No, most
emphatically, most indisputably, no! The unfounded accusation
made millions of years ago against him had sullied his whole
life, soured his disposition, and crushed all Hope out of him.
He was miserable, but beloved, for Miranda was true to him
and the Page-Boy! but, soft "Why is it," he thought, when
tossing that night on his satin mattress, "that I have changed
so greatly in the last billion years? Fate is cruel. Ha, ha!
what is this which overclouds my mental vision and hangs
heavily over me! Who is this smoking a cigarette at the foot
of my bed? What, Cheero! Great Scott! Speak," but no sign
did the Spirit give of life. "Art thou a ghost?"
The Spirit nodded affirmatively.
"I will follow thee." He jumped out of bed, and putting on
an emerald-studded silk smoking jacket, followed his dismal
visitor downstairs, his heart throbbing with delight as he
thought of yet another discovery of untold treasure. Meanwhile,
where was Miranda? She reposed on a silken (her husband
preferred satin) couch, and knew nothing of the Blue Bandit's
nocturnal voyage of search.
CHAPTER IV.
ACROSS
the long corridor, through the hall, and down the
front doorsteps went the Spirit, and in his wake Nobell followed.
. . . They stopped, the passage to the subterranean
dungeon had been reached. The guards were sleeping at the
entrance of which fact their chief made a note in his "Punishment" Book and the Spirit entered. The place was
filled with the electric light. It was icy cold, but Nobell pressed
on, or, rather, down the steps. It was a wonderful passage;
the spiral staircase had been roughly hewn out of diamond
blocks, which were overlaid with molten gold, and the balusters
were delicately chiselled ivory columns; Above, the ceiling was
"hand-painted," and the walls were covered with tapestry of the
richest design and most gorgeous stuffs. Its length was
unknown, in fact, even now a party of explorers were engaged
in the task of its ascertainment. They had been absent for two
hundred and fifty thousand years; but although telegrams were
sent bi-monthly, it seemed that they had got no nearer to the
end of the passage than their ancestors who had initiated the
search. The subterranean dungeon was, however, but half a
mile from the entrance. Into this Nobell made his way, and,
switching on the light, looked around. The Spirit had vanished,
and reclining in a recumbent position, reading "The Life of
Madame Blavatsky," was the Page Boy.
"My liege," he cried, "I welcome you to my humble cot."
The Blue Bandit trembled. "The ghost I saw lately, where
is he, she, or it?"
"Forgive me," he appealed, "but I am the ghost. I
precipitated myself into your room but a few minutes ago."
"You."
"Yes, I. Spare me," seeing him about to draw his sword
and wreak instant vengeance on his slender form. "Do not
risk 'fourteen days, without the option.' Spare me; I love
you."
"Man!"
"No, woman. I am the Countess of Minosall, to whom you
gave a handkerchief in the yard of Newgate Prison, and that
relic I now produce."
She gave it to him, and bathed his hands with her tears.
"And you have done all this for me!"
"Even so."
"My poor girl." His utterance was choked by emotion,
and mutely he embraced her.
"Your kisses are a sufficient reward for my long years of
service, and I now do not repent having accompanied you and
your wife –
"No longer;" he wildly interrupted. "I divorce her to-morrow. I love only you, dearest Lady Minosall."
"No, no," she cried, darting away from him. "You must
not speak thus. I am even now evaporating. I have swallowed
an ounce of sugar-candy, and my life is fast giving out."
Horrified, he gazed at her. "What can I do?" he asked
madly.
"Nothing."
There was a fizz and a bang, and the Disembodied Spirit of
the gallant "Page Boy" sailed through the roof and was quickly
lost to sight.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
. .
The Blue Bandit stood meditatively regarding the
handkerchief.
CHAPTER V.
ANOTHER
quadrillion years had passed, and the Blue Bandit
and his wife were becoming just a little bit weary of eternal
existence. Since the Page had left, things had gone badly
with them. The price of provisions was very high, and precious
stones practically possessed no purchasing power at all.
Miranda had consulted a doctor, who told her that he perceived
no signs of approaching death, and warned her that the
disease, unless taken in hand soon, might become incapable of
cure. Nobell himself was duly anxious, and thought that a
change in form might prove beneficial to his health. His wife
agreed with him, and a large reward was offered for two ounces
of sugar candy.
The reward had the desired effect, the candy was procured,
and the Blue Bandit summoned his people together to take a
last farewell of them.
They came, and to each person man, woman, or child
was given a ton of diamonds, a quartern (household), and an
orange, which somewhat reconciled them to the departure of
the chief they loved and the woman they adored.
Then, still further to lighten their loss, and render their
sorrow less insupportable, the Blue Bandit spoke for three hours
on the whole duty of man, and wound up by commending each
and every of them to the care of each and every of them.
"To your own selves be true in other words, look well
after yourselves, and that is the sum total of my advice; and
now, waiter, the candy.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
. .
(More asterisks again!)
Later in the afternoon of that day, three Spirits might have
been seen floating about in the cloudless sky.
Two were the Blue Bandit and Miranda, and the other was
the "Page" who died for love of the Blue Bandit.
RIDER-HAGGARD-DUMAS-STEVENSON-FLAUBERT-LONGBOW.