Without a sound he lunged to the floor, dead; but the women without had caught a fleeting glimpse of what had taken place within the little chamber, even before Barbara Harding could slam the door again, and with shrieks of rage and fright they rushed into the main street of the village shouting at the tops of their voices that Oda Yorimoto and Hawa Nisho had been slain by the woman of the sei-yo-jin.
Instantly, the village swarmed with samurai, women, children, and dogs.They rushed toward the hut of Oda Yorimoto, filling the outer chamber where they jabbered excitedly for several minutes, the warriors attempting to obtain a coherent story from the moaning women of the daimio's household.
Barbara Harding crouched close to the door, listening.She knew that the crucial moment was at hand; that there were at best but a few moments for her to live.A silent prayer rose from her parted lips.She placed the sharp point of Oda Yorimoto's short sword against her breast, and waited--waited for the coming of the men from the room beyond, snatching a few brief seconds from eternity ere she drove the weapon into her heart.
Theriere plunged through the jungle at a run for several minutes before he caught sight of the mucker.
"Are you still on the trail?" he called to the man before him.
"Sure," replied Byrne."It's dead easy.They must o' been at least a dozen of 'em.Even a mutt like me couldn't miss it.""We want to go carefully, Byrne," cautioned Theriere."I've had experience with these fellows before, and I can tell you that you never know when one of 'em is near you till you feel a spear in your back, unless you're almighty watchful.We've got to make all the haste we can, of course, but it won't help Miss Harding any if we rush into an ambush and get our heads lopped off."Byrne saw the wisdom of his companion's advice and tried to profit by it; but something which seemed to dominate him today carried him ahead at reckless, breakneck speed--the flight of an eagle would have been all too slow to meet the requirements of his unaccountable haste.
Once he found himself wondering why he was risking his life to avenge or rescue this girl whom be hated so.He tried to think that it was for the ransom--yes, that was it, the ransom.If he found her alive, and rescued her he should claim the lion's share of the booty.
Theriere too wondered why Byrne, of all the other men upon the Halfmoon the last that he should have expected to risk a thing for the sake of Miss Harding, should be the foremost in pursuit of her captors.
"I wonder how far behind Sanders and Wison are," he remarked to Byrne after they had been on the trail for the better part of an hour."Hadn't we better wait for them to catch up with us? Four can do a whole lot more than two.""Not wen Billy Byrne's one of de two," replied the mucker, and continued doggedly along the trail.
Another half-hour brought them suddenly in sight of a native village, and Billy Byrne was for dashing straight into the center of it and "cleaning it up," as he put it, but Theriere put his foot down firmly on that proposition, and finally Byrne saw that the other was right.
"The trail leads straight toward that place," said Theriere, "so I suppose here is where they brought her, but which of the huts she's in now we ought to try to determine before we make any attempt to rescue her.Well, by George! Now what do you think of that?""Tink o' wot?" asked the mucker."Wot's eatin' yeh?""See those three men down there in the village, Byrne?"asked the Frenchman."They're no more aboriginal headhunters than I am--they're Japs, man.There must be something wrong with our trailing, for it's as certain as fate itself that Japs are not head-hunters.""There ain't been nothin' fony about our trailin', bo,"insisted Byrne, "an' whether Japs are bean collectors or not here's where de ginks dat copped de doll hiked fer, an if dey ain't dere now it's because dey went t'rough an' out de odder side, see.""Hush, Byrne," whispered Theriere."Drop down behind this bush.Someone is coming along this other trail to the right of us," and as he spoke he dragged the mucker down beside him.
For a moment they crouched, breathless and expectant, and then the slim figure of an almost nude boy emerged from the foliage close beside and entered the trail toward the village.
Upon his head he bore a bundle of firewood.
When he was directly opposite the watchers Theriere sprang suddenly upon him, clapping a silencing hand over the boy's mouth.In Japanese he whispered a command for silence.
"We shall not harm you if you keep still," he said, "and answer our questions truthfully.What village is that?""It is the chief city of Oda Yorimoto, Lord of Yoka,"replied the youth."I am Oda Iseka, his son.""And the large hut in the center of the village street is the palace of Oda Yorimoto?" guessed Theriere shrewdly.
"It is."
The Frenchman was not unversed in the ways of orientals, and he guessed also that if the white girl were still alive in the village she would be in no other hut than that of the most powerful chief; but he wished to verify his deductions if possible.He knew that a direct question as to the whereabouts of the girl would call forth either a clever oriental evasion or an equally clever oriental lie.
"Does Oda Yorimoto intend slaying the white woman that was brought to his house last night?" asked Theriere.
"How should the son know the intentions of his father?"replied the boy.
"Is she still alive?" continued Theriere.
"How should I know, who was asleep when she was brought, and only heard the womenfolk this morning whispering that Oda Yorimoto had brought home a new woman the night before.""Could you not see her with your own eyes?" asked Theriere.
"My eyes cannot pass through the door of the little room behind, in which they still were when I left to gather firewood a half hour since," retorted the youth.
