CHAPTER XVIII.
A MAN OF QUEER MANNERS.
At just about the same moment that the submarine encountered the sunken wreck, Jack Dacre, as well as Sandy MacTavish, was sucked into the black and treacherous slime of the slough. As our readers will recall, we left both lads in about as bad a situation as could be imagined.
Jack's cries were beginning to grow feeble, when aid appeared from an unsuspected quarter. From the margin of woods surrounding the swamp, there suddenly emerged the figure of a rough-looking man. He carried a gun and was accompanied by two savage looking dogs.
"Hullo! What's the trouble here?" he demanded in an amazed voice, as his gaze lighted on the two struggling lads. By this time the marsh had engulfed Sandy to the arm-pits. Jack was in almost as bad a fix.
"For goodness' sake, help us out of this," implored Jack. "We can't hold out much longer."
The man grunted, but seemed in no hurry to aid them.
"You must be a fine pair of young fools," was his comment. "Any one could see that there was quicksands in thar'."
"Who are you, and how did you come here?" he demanded roughly the next minute.
"We'll tell you all that when you get us out of this," ejaculated Sandy. "Mon! mon, will ye stand glowerin' there, while we are sinking deeper all the time?"
"Serves you right for blundering in there," was the astonishingly heartless response.
The man turned away, whistling to his two dogs, and vanished in the woods. But, after all, the action was not as cold-blooded as it appeared. Instead of leaving the two lads to their fate, as it first had appeared, the man presently returned with some sticks of young timber.
He thrust these toward the two immersed lads, grumbling, the while, savagely to himself. Neither Jack nor Sandy was, fortunately, too weak to take advantage of this grudging aid. It was well that this was so, for the man didn't appear anxious to help them further. But when both lads had caught on to the sticks, with a firm hold he did bestir himself to pull and tug, and soon, what with their own struggles and the man's efforts, the two lads were out of the marsh. They were pitiful objects, indeed, as they stood on its marge. Black mud clung to them, like a sort of sticky paste. Their faces were strained and white. Perspiration poured in rivulets down them. Besides, they were shaky and unnerved from their ordeal.
But their appearance in no wise seemed to move the pity of the man. He laughed grimly as his two dogs flew furiously at the two newly rescued lads.
"Lucky for you that them dogs didn't come on you when I wasn't by," he said, filling and lighting a short pipe, and seating himself on a log. "They'd have torn you limb from limb. Now, then," he demanded, with a sudden accession of fierceness, "who are you, anyhow? What are you doing on Castle Rock Island?"
"We've escaped——" began Sandy, when something warned him that it would be as well to disguise the true state of affairs from this gruff, unsympathetic sort of individual.
"Oh, ho! You've escaped, have you?" said the man, with an ugly leer. "And from what, pray?"
"From our boat. It was wrecked," volunteered Jack, with a sufficient statement of facts to cover the case. "But is this Castle Rock Island, really?"
"Of course, it is. Didn't I say so?"
Jack and Sandy exchanged astonished glances. So they had reached their destination, after all. But in what an astonishing way!
"Well," glowered the man, "is that all?"
"I guess so," responded Jack, "except that we fell into the marsh while looking for a place where we could get some food and rest. We've got money to pay for it," he added, thinking that the man might live nearby.
The fellow's eyes lit up at the mention of money.
"How much you got?" he questioned.
Jack displayed a roll of bills of comfortable proportions, for, as we know, the rascals on the tug had not thought it worth while to search their young prisoners.
The man's eyes dwelt on the money as if in speculation. He remained silent for a few seconds. Then he spoke in his gruff way.
"Come with me," he said, rising to his feet.
"Do you think he is all right?" whispered Sandy, as they prepared to follow.
"Frankly, I don't. But we must trust to luck. We've got to get something to eat, and I imagine he is some sort of a woodsman. He may have a good heart, even if his manners are gruff."
"A-weel," sighed Sandy, "I don't trust him a bit more than you do. But we maun find some place to rest, I'm thinking."
So they plunged into the woods after the man, who was looking back at them interrogatively. He strode along at some distance ahead. Ever and anon he would glance back to see if they were following. But he didn't speak.
They must have progressed thus for half an hour or more, when they suddenly emerged upon the shore from the trail they had hitherto been following. Before them spread the waters of the lake in all their vast solitude. Behind them lay the forest, and to their right towered a great mass of rocks and craggy cliffs, that were wild and primeval looking. But it was none of these things that transfixed the gaze of the two lads, and, tired as they were, filled their eyes with eager interest.
What captured their attention, to the exclusion of every other feature of the landscape, was a tower of rough outline, about forty feet or more in height, which stood directly in front of them on a little rocky promontory.
It was built of stone, which had, apparently, been taken from the cliffs adjoining. A rough flight of steps, also of stone, encircled it outside, reaching to the summit. The ruins of what had once been a light-house lantern on the top proclaimed the uses to which the tower had been put before it fell into ruin. About its base creepers grew luxuriantly; but they had been cleared away at one point, where a door, heavily studded with iron rivets, was observable.
"Do you live here?" inquired Jack, as the man walked up to the door with the confident air of possession.
"I do—yes. If you want anything to eat, you had better come inside."
Such was the gruff rejoinder of the man, as he inserted a key in the door and swung it open. Evidently, the outside stairs were not used by him. A closer view, in fact, showed that they were tottering, like the rest of the structure, and probably were not safe.
Sandy and Jack exchanged swift glances, as the man undid the door. Was this some trap that they were being enticed into? But, hungry and faint as they were, the lads were not in a critical mood. While they still hesitated, the man turned round.
"Well," he said grumpily, "are you comin' in, or ain't you? I can't wait here all night."
"We'll be right with you," said Jack with alacrity, stepping forward and resolutely putting his fears behind him, "I hope dinner's ready," he added by way of a small pleasantry.
But in return for his smiling remark, the man only mumbled something, and whistled to his dogs. Then, followed by the two lads, he entered the ancient door, which groaned on its hinges, with what Jack's excited mind interpreted as a note of warning. But it was too late to turn back now.
As the man swung the door to behind them and locked it, Jack felt that they were committed to the adventure, come what might.