Munroe Kirk
The Copper Princess: A Story of Lake Superior Mines

CHAPTER XXI
MIKE CONNELL TO THE RESCUE

On the very day that the White Pine logging expedition had been so completely disbanded, the tug Broncho had been sent up the coast in a hurry after a supply of timber. She reached Laughing Fish Cove in the evening after Peveril's departure from his camp, and spent the night there awaiting him. Her captain was greatly perplexed by the failure of any of the party to put in an appearance, and the more so when he learned from the fishermen that Peveril had returned alone only to depart again on foot soon afterwards.

By morning he dared not wait longer, for his instructions were to start back immediately with such logs as had been collected. He also imagined that, having picked up all the timber they could find, and becoming tired of waiting for him, the wreckers might have set out for Red Jacket on foot. So, taking in tow the raft that he found in the cove, he started down the coast, arriving at his destination that same evening.

Mike Connell, who had been anxiously awaiting Peveril's coming, was at the landing to meet his friend, and was much disappointed at his non-appearance. After gaining all the news concerning the missing party that Captain Spillins could give him, he hastened back to Red Jacket, and went at once to the Trefethen cottage with a faint hope that Peveril might be there.

The inmates of the little house had also pleasantly anticipated the return of the young man in whom they were so interested, and had made such simple preparations as came within their means for welcoming him. Now their disappointment at Connell's report was mingled with a certain anxiety that increased as they discussed the situation.

"I'm feared lad's got into some trouble along of they furriners," reflected Mark Trefethen, as he puffed thoughtfully at his short pipe. "Not but he'll find way outen it, though, for he's finely strong and handy wi' his fists. Still, there's always the knives and deviltry of they furriners to be reckoned with."

"They do tell as hit's a cruel country up yon, full o' thieves and murderers, to say naught o' smuggling pirates," put in his wife; "which, as I were saying to Miss Penny no longer ago than yesterday, when me and 'er was looking in at company store, the same as Maister Peril should be running this blessed minute if 'e 'ad 'is rights, 'Miss Penny,' sez I, 'that pore young man'll never get it in this world, now 'e's gone for a sailor, mark my words,' little thinking they'd so soon come true."

"If I was a man," said Nelly Trefethen, at the same time casting a meaning glance at her sweetheart, "I'd not be sitting here wondering how he's to be got out of trouble, especially if he'd done for me what he has for some."

"No more will I," spoke up Mike Connell, "for I'm going to find him, which is what I came to say along with telling the news."

"And I'll go with you!" exclaimed Tom Trefethen, springing to his feet, as though for an immediate start.

"No, Tom; glad as I'd be of your company, it's best I should go alone, seeing as I know that country well, and one man can get along in it when two couldn't. Besides, you are needed here, while I'm not."

In spite of young Trefethen's protests, the Irishman remained firm in his decision to set forth alone in search of his friend; and as he left the house Nelly, who with the others accompanied him to the door, managed to give his hand an approving squeeze.

Although Major Arkell gave orders for the tug to return to Laughing Fish in search of the missing loggers the moment her services could be spared, it was not until twenty-four hours after bringing in the raft that it was possible for her to do so.

In the meantime Mike Connell, starting at the break of day, and walking briskly northward, reached the cove that still held Peveril's deserted camp that same afternoon.

Through an intimacy with several of his countrymen who were successful peddlers of Ralph Darrell's smuggled goods, Connell had learned much concerning that section of country, and the various operations conducted within its limits. He had at one time seriously contemplated going into the peddling business himself, and had made so many inquiries in regard to its details that he was even familiar with "Darrell's Folly," though it was a place he had never visited.

Knowing it to be a headquarters for smugglers, and believing that, if Peveril had really got himself into trouble, it would be in connection with some of those people, he felt that it was a likely locality in which to search for information. Accordingly he headed directly for it, only going a short distance out of his way to visit Laughing Fish Cove. Having heard that the fisher-folk were in league with the smugglers, he did not care to betray his presence to them, and so did not show himself in the little settlement, but only skirted it, until certain that his friends were not there. Then he proceeded towards his destination by the same trail that Peveril had followed only two nights before.

As he walked slowly along the narrow pathway, trying to invent some plausible excuse for presenting himself before the irascible old man who, he had heard, excluded all strangers from "Darrell's Folly," his steps were arrested by the sound of voices approaching from the opposite direction. In another moment he saw three men hurrying towards him, gesticulating wildly and talking loudly in an unknown tongue.

As they drew near he recognized in them the three car-pushers recently driven from the White Pine Mine. It also flashed into his mind that these were the men whom he had urged to make a cowardly attack on the young fellow he had then considered an enemy, but for whom he was now searching as for a dear friend.

The new-comers also recognized him, and, regarding him as of one purpose with themselves in all that concerned Peveril, did not hesitate to advance and speak to him. After an exchange of greetings, Connell broached the business in hand by asking if they had seen anything in those parts of the chap who had driven them from White Pine.

The men glanced at each other hesitatingly for a moment, and then Rothsky answered:

"Yes, my friend, indeed we have seen him, and to our sorrow, since it is but now that he has driven us from another job, better even than that."

"How so?" inquired Connell, pricking up his ears.

"It is this way: We are working, at good wages, for the old fool over yonder, when that devil of a Per'l comes and tries to steal our timbers. Then the boss compels us to seize him and put him in his boat, which we tow far out in the lake. Then, as he makes a try to escape, the boss, who is like a man crazy, shoots him with a pistol through the head, and we all see him fall without life in the bottom of his boat. He is so very dead that he does not even move, and so is let go to drift, him and his boat, while we return to shore."

"A fine way of treating trespassers, bedad!" exclaimed Connell; "but all the same, there is folks who would call it murder."

"Yes, was it not? But wait. All that was three days ago; and yet, but one hour since, two of us have seen the ghost of this beast Per'l standing on the black rocks, with the white face of death, the wet hair of the drowned, and his clothing torn by the teeth of fishes. He said not one word, but waited for us, and would have dragged us to the bottom if we had not fled in time. Now, with such things allowed, we can no longer work in this place, and so, for the second time, has he driven us from our good job."

"It's a cruel shame and an outrage on dacency, nothing less!" cried Connell, in pretended indignation. "At the same time, Rothsky, man, I'd like to have been with you, for do you know I've never laid eyes on a ghost at all, but would like mightily to have the exparience. Would ye mind tellin' me now where could I find this one, just for the pleasure of the sensation?"

"No, no, Mist Connell! Don't go near it, for you'll be going to your death if you do."

"But, if I'm willing to risk it why not?"

So the Irishman insisted that they should permit him to share with them the glory of having seen a ghost, and finally won from them full directions how to discover the place from which they had fled in terror. The sly fellow even made pretence of wishing them to go back with him, and, when they declined to consider his invitation, declared them to be a set of cowards, and set forth alone.

"It's my belief," he said to himself, as he made his way towards the place where they had told him he would find a boat, "that them divils of Dagos have played some dirty trick on Mister Peril. If there'd been but two of them I'd found some way of extorting a confession from their lying mouths, but odds of three to one is too big to risk. So I had to blarney them; but maybe I'll be able to help the lad some way; and, anyhow, here's for the trying."

It was dusk when Connell, having found the boat, pulled unobserved out of the land-locked basin, and by the time he reached the ledge, where he had been told he would find Peveril's ghost, darkness had so closed in that he could not tell whether it was occupied or not until he had left his craft and explored its limited area.

"Mister Peril!" he called, softly; "come out, if you're hiding, for it's only me, Mike Connell, come to take you away from this – Oh, bad cess to it, he's not here at all, and it's a great song-and-dance them Dagos give me! Now I'll have to go and beg a night's lodging of the old man, and maybe he'll give me a job in place of them as has just left him. In that case I'll find out something, or me name's not – Holy smoke! where's me boat? Bad luck to the slippery craft! It's gone entirely, and here I am left to spend the cruel night alone on a bit of a rock in the sea. If I was in jail I'd be better off."

It was only too true. The light skiff, carelessly left to its own devices, had been caught by a gentle breeze and borne without a sound beyond sight or hearing.

As the second prisoner claimed by the black ledge that day stood dismally bemoaning his hard fate, a light flashed out above him, and, glancing upward, he saw what he took to be a man in the act of hanging two lanterns to a bit of a tree. It was a danger-signal warning the smugglers to keep away, and Mary Darrell was placing it by order of her father, who feared Peveril might still be lingering in that vicinity.

"Hey, lad," cried Connell, noting her slight figure, "will you help a fellow-creature in distress by tossing down the end of a rope?"

"Are you really still there?" exclaimed the girl, in a tone of dismay, and striving to peer down through the darkness.

"I am that, but most anxious to get away."

"And if I do let down the rope, will you promise to depart at once the same way you came?"

"I'll promise anything if you'll only let me up."

"Well, then, there it is. I know I am doing wrong, but I can't leave you down there all night, for you would be dead by morning."

"True for ye," answered Connell, as he began briskly to climb the rope, hand over hand.

As his face appeared within the circle of lantern-light, the poor girl, who was waiting with trembling anxiety, uttered a cry of terror and fled into the gloom of the cavern.

"Well, if that don't bate my time!" exclaimed the new-comer, as he gained a foothold on the ledge. "Whatever could the lad be frightened of?"

CHAPTER XXII
THE SIGNAL IS CHANGED

Peveril had been amazed and disgusted at the sudden turning about and departure of the boat that had so nearly effected his rescue. Of course, on recognizing the oarsmen, he understood why they declined to help him, though it did not enter his mind that they regarded him as a supernatural being.

"What cowards they are!" he reflected, bitterly. "They are determined to kill me though, that is evident, and I don't believe they will be content with simply leaving me here to die of exposure. It's more than likely they will roll rocks down on me from the cliffs during the night. There's a cheerful prospect to contemplate, with darkness already coming on, too!

"That young fellow seemed willing enough to help me, only he was bound to do it in his own way; but now I suppose those wretches will prevent him from making any more efforts in my behalf. What is he doing with that gang of murderers, I wonder? Apparently he is about as far removed from that class as a person can be. Well, that's neither here nor there. The one thing to be considered just now is, how am I to get out of this fix? I wonder if there is any possibility of that cord bearing my weight."

The cord thus referred to was the one by which the basket of food had been lowered. As it still hung close at hand, Peveril gave it a sharp pull. Although it yielded slightly, it did not break, and, encouraged by this, he threw his whole weight on it as a conclusive test of its strength. The result was sudden, surprising, and wellnigh disastrous. The cord gave way so readily that Peveril sprawled at full length on the rocks, while, at the same time, something heavy fell with a rush down the face of the cliff and struck with great force close beside his head.

Springing to his feet in alarm at this most unexpected happening, the prisoner found to his amazement and also to his delight that he had pulled down the derrick-tackle by which he had descended. To be sure, the block at its lower end had very nearly dashed out his brains, but what did he care for that so long as he had been given the benefit of the miss? For a moment he was puzzled to know how his pull on the cord could have effected so desirable a result, but, upon an examination of the tackle, he laughed aloud at the simplicity of the proposition. For want of something better to hold her end of the cord, Mary Darrell had tied it to the block of the derrick-tackle, intending, of course, to draw up the basket again as soon as her starving guest had emptied it. Then, absorbed in a suddenly evolved plan for releasing him from his predicament and at the same time preserving her father's secret, she had gone away and neglected to do so.

Peveril was not slow to avail himself of the means of escape thus provided, and a few minutes later stood once more within the portal of the great cavern. His first care was to haul up the tackle and dispose it as he imagined it to have been left, with the attached cord hanging down the face of the cliff.

"There!" he said, when this was done to his satisfaction. "The young fellow is almost certain to come back for another look at me, and, though I fancy he'll be somewhat surprised to find me gone, it will never enter his head that I am up here. Then when he leaves I will simply follow his lead, and so find the way out of this mysterious place. Perhaps, though, I can discover it for myself."

Thus thinking, Peveril made as careful an examination of the cavern walls as the fading light would permit, but could find no sign of an opening. Finally, deciding to carry out his original plan, he selected a hiding-place, and, settling himself in it as comfortably as possible, began to await with what patience he might the return of his young friend.

By this time the cavern was quite dark, save for a dim twilight at its opening; and, having nothing to distract his attention, he began to realize how very weary he was after the exertions and nervous strain of the past three days. He had also just eaten a hearty meal. It is little wonder then that, within five minutes, and in spite of his strenuous exertions to keep awake, he fell fast asleep. Fortunately he did not snore, nor make any sound to betray his presence, but unfortunately, also, his slumber was so profound that when, a little later, Mary Darrell and her father softly entered the gallery and cautiously proceeded to its mouth for a look at the prisoner, whom they supposed still to be on the black ledge, he did not waken.

Puzzled as they were at his disappearance, they were also greatly relieved to have him gone. They never for a moment imagined that he could have regained the cavern, and so, after drawing up the basket, they retired as they had come, leaving Peveril undisturbed to his nap.

While it was not certain that the expected smuggling schooner would reach the coast that evening, she might do so, and, with the cautiousness marking all of his operations, Ralph Darrell decided that it would not do for her cargo to be landed while there was a chance of a stranger, who was at the same time an enemy, being in the neighborhood. He felt assured that the young man who had so mysteriously appeared and disappeared that day must be an enemy; for, though Mary had not mentioned his name, she had described him as being the one who had recently attempted to steal his logs from the land-locked basin. Now he had no doubt that the chap was a revenue-officer who had come to spy out his smuggling operations, and only pretended to be in search of wrecked timber as a cloak for his real designs. Else why should he still hang around, and especially in the vicinity of the cavern, where there were no logs?

Mary even declared a belief that he had been in their carefully concealed hiding-place, but, of course, she must be mistaken. Still, no more cargo must be landed until the spy was located and driven from that region.

"I sha'n't need to carry on the business much longer," said the old man to himself; "but so long as I choose to remain in it I don't propose to be interfered with."

So Mary was directed to go and display two lanterns at the mouth of the cavern as a signal that no goods were to be landed that night, while her father went out for the final look at his precious mining property that he took every evening just after the men had quit work.

Ralph Darrell's heart was bound up in the new work he had recently began, and so anxious was he to push it that he was engaging all laborers who came that way. As yet his force was very small, but he was in hopes of speedily increasing it. Thus, to discover that three of his strongest men had suddenly thrown up their jobs and left him without warning filled him with anger. So furious was he, even after he entered the house, that poor Mary, who had just returned badly frightened from the cavern, dared not confess to him that, through her own carelessness, another stranger had been admitted to the hidden storehouse of the cliffs.

Perhaps by morning this unwelcome visitor would have disappeared, as the other had done; and, at any rate, he could never find the secret passage, for it was too carefully concealed. By morning, too, her father would be restored to his ordinary frame of mind, and it would be easier to tell him what she had done, if, indeed, it should prove necessary to tell him at all.

In the meantime Mike Connell was much puzzled by the nature of the place in which he found himself after his climb, as well as by the abrupt disappearance of the lad upon whom he had counted for guidance. The darkness, with its accompanying profound silence, so affected him that, while he called several times, "Whist now! Where are you? Come out o' that, young feller, and have done with your foolin'!" he did so in an awed tone but little above a whisper.

"All right; stay where you are then!" he added, after listening vainly for a reply. "If it's a game of hide-and-seek ye want, I can soon accommodate you, seeing as how you've been so kind as to leave me a couple of glims, though it's only one of them I'll need."

Thus saying, the new-comer removed one of the two lanterns that had been hung out as a warning to the smugglers, and unwittingly changed the danger-signal into one of safety and invitation by so doing. With the lantern thus acquired to light his footsteps, he began a careful survey of the cavern, hoping to discover either an exit from it or his vanished guide.

With his previous knowledge of the principal industry of that region, it did not take him long to conjecture the meaning of the bales and boxes upon which he soon stumbled.

"Holy smoke!" he cried; "it's a cave of smugglers you've broke into, Mike Connell, no less, and a sorrowful time ye'll have of it if the folks comes home and catches you at the trespassing! Where the divil is the back door, I wonder, for the one in front is no good at all? Saints preserve us! What's that?"

With this last exclamation the frightened Irishman began to retreat slowly backward, holding his lantern so that, while it revealed his own terror-stricken face, its light also fell full on the form of Richard Peveril standing before him and staring in blankest amazement.

"Plaze, good Mister Spook – I mean yer Honor – Oh, Holy Fathers! what will I say?" stammered the poor fellow, in such faltering accents that Peveril broke into a roar of laughter.

"Mike Connell!" he cried; "wherever did you come from? and what has happened? You look as though you had seen a ghost!"

"And haven't I?" retorted the other, still staring dubiously. "Is it yourself, lad? But sure it must be, seeing you have a voice of your own, which is a thing never yet given to a spook. Glory be to goodness, Mister Peril, that I've found you just as I'd lost you entirely, and meself as well!"

"But how do you happen to be here?" asked the still bewildered Peveril.

"Sure I just came, thinking you might want me."

"Which way did you come?"

"Through the front door, the same as yourself."

"But I came in by a back entrance."

"Then we'd best be getting out that way, for I'm afeard there'll soon be others here as won't be pleased to see us."

"We can't, for that way is barred," answered Peveril; "but let us sit down and try to arrive at some understanding of this mysterious affair."

So, for nearly an hour, the two talked over the situation; and, though each frequently interrupted the other with questions or exclamations, they finally gained a pretty clear comprehension of their position. At the end of the conference Peveril exclaimed:

"Then, so far as I can see, we are shut up here like two rats in a trap."

"Yes," cried Connell, "and here comes the rat-catchers after us now!"

As he spoke he pointed to the outer entrance, where the head and shoulders of a man had just appeared above the rocky ledge.