The Harlequin Opal: A Romance. Volume 1 of 3. Hume Fergus

The Harlequin Opal: A Romance. Volume 1 of 3 - Hume Fergus


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a bit," replied Jack, viciously; "all he wants is to marry her, and thus gain possession of the devil stone. Besides, apart from the use it would be to him, from a superstitious point of view, he would like to obtain the stone for its own sake. It is a magnificent gem."

      "Has he seen it also?"

      "Yes; at the same time as I did. Dolores' father died, and she became the ward of her uncle Don Miguel. I was a good deal about the house, and naturally enough fell in love with her."

      "Jack! Jack!"

      "You'll fall in love with her, yourself, Philip, when you see her; she's an angel."

      "Of course. You say that because you are in love with her. Does she return your love?"

      "Yes; she is as fond of me as I am of her."

      "And what does Don Miguel, the proud hidalgo, say?"

      "He says nothing, because he knows nothing," said Jack, promptly; "we haven't told him yet. However, when Dolores and myself found out we loved one another, she told me all about this Chalchuih Tlatonac, and how she expected it was to be shown to her, according to custom. A few nights afterwards the priest arrived secretly, and showed her the stone. While she was holding it up, I entered the room suddenly with Don Hypolito. We saw the opal flashing like a rainbow in her hand. By Heaven, boys, I never saw such splendour in my life. We only had a glimpse of it, for as soon as the old priest saw us he snatched it out of her hand and bolted. I followed, but lost him, so the opal went back to the forest temple; and Lord only knows where that is."

      "Doesn't Doña Dolores know?"

      "No; nobody knows except the priests. They meet the worshippers on the verge of the forest and blindfold them before leading them to the shrine."

      "And how did Don Hypolito find out Dolores was the guardian of the opal?" asked Peter, after a pause.

      "Oh, the story is common property. But the opal isn't of much value to Dolores. She is called its guardian, but has nothing to do with it. Now I suppose she'll never see it again."

      "It's a queer story anyhow," observed Tim, reflectively; "I would like to see that jewel."

      "That's what I've come to see you all about," said Jack, excitedly. "I want you all to come with me to Cholacaca, and help me to marry Dolores, and get the devil stone."

      The three remained silent, and a shade of disappointment passed over Duval's face.

      "Of course, if you fellows don't care, I – "

      "Wait a moment, Jack," interrupted Philip, slowly. "Don't jump to conclusions. You want us to go to Central America?"

      "Yes."

      "And upset Don Hypolito's little plans?"

      "Exactly."

      "Speaking for myself," said Philip, quietly, "there is nothing I should like better. I am with you, Jack. But Peter – "

      "Oh, I'll come too," said the doctor, serenely, "if it's only to collect butterflies. While I'm on the spot, I may as well help. There's sure to be fighting, and I can attend to the wounded. You can depend upon me, Jack; I'll be your family physician, and physic the lot of you."

      "Bravo!" cried Jack, his face lighting up as he grasped a hand of each. "And what do you say, Tim?"

      "Your story is queer," remarked Tim, solemnly; "but mine is queerer. I'll go with the greatest of pleasure, Jack; but it so happens I'm going out to the same place for The Morning Planet."

      "What?"

      "It's a coincidence, anyhow, Jack. I told you I knew about Don Hypolito."

      "You did."

      "Have you seen the evening papers?"

      "No; I was too excited at the idea of meeting you fellows to bother about reading."

      "You are an ignorant person. While you've been fast in coming here, the telegraph's been faster. From all accounts, there's going to be a shindy in Cholacaca."

      "Dolores!" gasped Jack, turning pale.

      "Oh, you needn't be distressful," said Fletcher, hastily; "there's nothing much up as yet. I saw the telegram myself this morning. Don Hypolito has left Tlatonac, and gone to that other town – what d'ye call it? 'Tis on the tip of my tongue."

      "Acauhtzin."

      "Yes, that's the name. 'Tis said he's trying to stir up a row; but there's no news of any consequence, at all!"

      "You've been ordered to the front, then, Tim?" said Philip, quickly.

      "You've hit it, my boy! I was in the office this morning, and the editor called me in. 'D'ye want a trip?' says he. 'I don't mind,' says I. 'There's going to be trouble again in South America,' says he. 'What!' says I, 'are the Peruvians at it again?' 'No,' says he, 'it's Cholacaca.' 'And where's that?' says I. 'It's more nor I know,' says he. 'Find out on the map, and hold yourself in readiness to go.' So I left him at once, and looked up the map; found out all I could about the place, and at any minute I'm expecting to be sent off."

      "Jove! how curious," said Jack, reflectively. "I didn't expect Don Hypolito to cause trouble quite so soon; but I saw things were shaping that way. It's strange, Tim, that you should be going to the very place I wish you to go to. But Philip and Peter won't like to come now."

      "It doesn't make the slightest difference to me," said Philip, coolly. "In fact, like Xeres, I'm longing for a new pleasure. I've never been in a war, and should like the novelty of the thing. As to Peter! he's coming to resume his profession on the battle-field."

      "But what about my butterflies?" remonstrated Peter, who did not exactly relish the idea of being put in the forefront of the battle. He objected to the role of Uriah.

      "Oh, you can do all that sort of thing between times. The main thing is to get the better of Don Hypolito, and help Jack."

      "Very well, Philip," said the little man meekly. "I'll come."

      "But your practice," hesitated Jack, not liking to be selfish.

      "Why, the poor little man hasn't got one," laughed Tim, digging Peter in the ribs. "Hasn't he killed his patients long ago, and is now starving on five hundred a year, poor soul."

      "It's very kind of you all!" said Duval, looking at his three friends. "But I feel that I'm leading you into trouble."

      "Not me," declared Tim, stoutly, "'tis the Morning Planet's to blame, if I peg out."

      "And I want some excitement," said Philip, gaily; "and Peter wants butterflies; don't you, doctor? We're all free agents in the matter, Jack, and will go with pleasure."

      "How strange," said Peter, pensively; "we little thought at Bedford that – "

      "Peter, don't be sentimental," interrupted the baronet, jumping up. "We little thought our meeting would bring us good luck, if that is what you mean. I'm delighted at this new conquest of Mexico."

      "We must start at once, Philip."

      "My dear Jack, we shall start the day after to-morrow, in my yacht. She's lying down at Yarmouth, in the Isle of Wight, and is ready to get steam up at a minute's notice."

      "Is she a fast boat?"

      "Fast!" echoed Philip, indignant at the imputation; "she's the fastest steam-yacht afloat. Wait till she clears the Channel, then you'll see what a clean pair of heels she can show."

      "The quicker the better. I don't want to arrive at Tlatonac and find Dolores missing."

      "You won't find a hair of her head touched. You shall marry her, Jack, and inherit the harlequin opal, and go and be priest to Huitzilopochtli, if you like. Now have a glass of wine."

      Tim, who was always handy when liquor was about, had already filled the glasses and solemnly handed them to his friends.

      "To the health," said Tim, standing up huge and burly, "of the future Mrs. Duval."

      The toast was drunk with acclamation.

      CHAPTER III

      "THE BOHEMIAN."

      Come,


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