Again, however, his active spirit shook off the lethargy which springsf
rom despair. If there was nothing else left to him, he could at leastdevote his life to revenge. With indomitable patience and perseverance,Jefferson Hope possessed also a power of sustained vindictiveness, whichhe may have learned from the Indians amongst whom he had lived. As hestood by the desolate fire, he felt that the only one thing which couldassuage his grief would be thorough and complete retribution, broughtby his own hand upon his enemies. His strong will and untiring energyshould, he determined, be devoted to that one end. With a grim, whiteface, he retraced his steps to where he had dropped the food, and havingstirred up the smouldering fire, he cooked enough to last him for afew days. This he made up into a bundle, and, tired as he was, heset himself to walk back through the mountains upon the track of theavenging angels.
For five days he toiled footsore and weary through the defiles which hehad already traversed on horseback. At night he flung himself down amongthe rocks, and snatched a few hours of sleep; but before daybreak he wasalways well on his way. On the sixth day, he reached the Eagle Canon,from which they had commenced their ill-fated flight. Thence he couldlook down upon the home of the saints. Worn and exhausted, he leanedupon his rifle and shook his gaunt hand fiercely at the silentwidespread city beneath him. As he looked at it, he observed thatthere were flags in some of the principal streets, and other signs offestivity. He was still speculating as to what this might mean when heheard the clatter of horse's hoofs, and saw a mounted man riding towardshim. As he approached, he recognized him as a Mormon named Cowper, towhom he had rendered services at different times. He therefore accostedhim when he got up to him, with the object of finding out what LucyFerrier's fate had been.
"I am Jefferson Hope," he said. "You remember me."
The Mormon looked at him with undisguised astonishment--indeed, it wasdifficult to recognize in this tattered, unkempt wanderer, with ghastlywhite face and fierce, wild eyes, the spruce young hunter of formerdays. Having, however, at last, satisfied himself as to his identity,the man's surprise changed to consternation.
"You are mad to come here," he cried. "It is as much as my own life isworth to be seen talking with you. There is a warrant against you fromthe Holy Four for assisting the Ferriers away."
"I don't fear them, or their warrant," Hope said, earnestly. "You mustknow something of this matter, Cowper. I conjure you by everything youhold dear to answer a few questions. We have always been friends. ForGod's sake, don't refuse to answer me."
"What is it?" the Mormon asked uneasily. "Be quick. The very rocks haveears and the trees eyes."
"What has become of Lucy Ferrier?"
"She was married yesterday to young Drebber. Hold up, man, hold up, youhave no life left in you."
"Don't mind me," said Hope faintly. He was white to the very lips, andhad sunk down on the stone against which he had been leaning. "Married,you say?"
"Married yesterday--that's what those flags are for on the EndowmentHouse. There was some words between young Drebber and young Stangersonas to which was to have her. They'd both been in the party that followedthem, and Stangerson had shot her father, which seemed to give him thebest claim; but when they argued it out in council, Drebber's party wasthe stronger, so the Prophet gave her over to him. No one won't haveher very long though, for I saw death in her face yesterday. She is morelike a ghost than a woman. Are you off, then?"
"Yes, I am off," said Jefferson Hope, who had risen from his seat. Hisface might have been chiselled out of marble, so hard and set was itsexpression, while its eyes glowed with a baleful light.
"Where are you going?"
"Never mind," he answered; and, slinging his weapon over his shoulder,strode off down the gorge and so away into the heart of the mountains tothe haunts of the wild beasts. Amongst them all there was none so fierceand so dangerous as himself.
The prediction of the Mormon was only too well fulfilled. Whether it wasthe terrible death of her father or the effects of the hateful marriageinto which she had been forced, poor Lucy never held up her head again,but pined away and died within a month. Her sottish husband, who hadmarried her principally for the sake of John Ferrier's property, did notaffect any great grief at his bereavement; but his other wives mournedover her, and sat up with her the night before the burial, as is theMormon custom. They were grouped round the bier in the early hours ofthe morning, when, to their inexpressible fear and astonishment,the door was flung open, and a savage-looking, weather-beaten man intattered garments strode into the room. Without a glance or a word tothe cowering women, he walked up to the white silent figure which hadonce contained the pure soul of Lucy Ferrier. Stooping over her, hepressed his lips reverently to her cold forehead, and then, snatchingup her hand, he took the wedding-ring from her finger. "She shall not beburied in that," he cried with a fierce snarl, and before an alarm couldbe raised sprang down the stairs and was gone. So strange and so briefwas the episode, that the watchers might have found it hard to believeit themselves or persuade other people of it, had it not been for theundeniable fact that the circlet of gold which marked her as having beena bride had disappeared.
For some months Jefferson Hope lingered among the mountains, leadinga strange wild life, and nursing in his heart the fierce desire forvengeance which possessed him. Tales were told in the City of the weirdfigure which was seen prowling about the suburbs, and which hauntedthe lonely mountain gorges. Once a bullet whistled through Stangerson'swindow and flattened itself upon the wall within a foot of him. Onanother occasion, as Drebber passed under a cliff a great bouldercrashed down on him, and he only escaped a terrible death by throwinghimself upon his face. The two young Mormons were not long indiscovering the reason of these attempts upon their lives, and ledrepeated expeditions into the mountains in the hope of capturing orkilling their enemy, but always without success. Then they adopted theprecaution of never going out alone or after nightfall, and of havingtheir houses guarded. After a time they were able to relax thesemeasures, for nothing was either heard or seen of their opponent, andthey hoped that time had cooled his vindictiveness.
Far from doing so, it had, if anything, augmented it. The hunter's mindwas of a hard, unyielding nature, and the predominant idea of revengehad taken such complete possession of it that there was no room forany other emotion. He was, however, above all things practical. He soonrealized that even his iron constitution could not stand the incessantstrain which he was putting upon it. Exposure and want of wholesome foodwere wearing him out. If he died like a dog among the mountains, whatwas to become of his revenge then? And yet such a death was sure toovertake him if he persisted. He felt that that was to play his enemy'sgame, so he reluctantly returned to the old Nevada mines, there torecruit his health and to amass money enough to allow him to pursue hisobject without privation.
His intention had been to be absent a year at the most, but acombination of unforeseen circumstances prevented his leaving the minesfor nearly five. At the end of that time, however, his memory ofhis wrongs and his craving for revenge were quite as keen as on thatmemorable night when he had stood by John Ferrier's grave. Disguised,and under an assumed name, he returned to Salt Lake City, carelesswhat became of his own life, as long as he obtained what he knew tobe justice. There he found evil tidings awaiting him. There had been aschism among the Chosen People a few months before, some of the youngermembers of the Church having rebelled against the authority of theElders, and the result had been the secession of a certain number of themalcontents, who had left Utah and become Gentiles. Among these had beenDrebber and Stangerson; and no one knew whither they had gone. Rumourreported that Drebber had managed to convert a large part of hisproperty into money, and that he had departed a wealthy man, while hiscompanion, Stangerson, was comparatively poor. There was no clue at all,however, as to their whereabouts.
Many a man, however vindictive, would have abandoned all thought ofrevenge in the face of such a difficulty, but Jefferson Hope neverfaltered for a moment. With the small competence he possessed, eked outby such employment as he could
pick up, he travelled from town to townthrough the United States in quest of his enemies. Year passed intoyear, his black hair turned grizzled, but still he wandered on, a humanbloodhound, with his mind wholly set upon the one object upon which hehad devoted his life. At last his perseverance was rewarded. It wasbut a glance of a face in a window, but that one glance told him thatCleveland in Ohio possessed the men whom he was in pursuit of. Hereturned to his miserable lodgings with his plan of vengeance allarranged. It chanced, however, that Drebber, looking from his window,had recognized the vagrant in the street, and had read murder inhis eyes. He hurried before a justice of the peace, accompanied byStangerson, who had become his private secretary, and represented to himthat they were in danger of their lives from the jealousy and hatred ofan old rival. That evening Jefferson Hope was taken into custody, andnot being able to find sureties, was detained for some weeks. When atlast he was liberated, it was only to find that Drebber's house wasdeserted, and that he and his secretary had departed for Europe.
Again the avenger had been foiled, and again his concentrated hatredurged him to continue the pursuit. Funds were wanting, however, andfor some time he had to return to work, saving every dollar for hisapproaching journey. At last, having collected enough to keep life inhim, he departed for Europe, and tracked his enemies from city tocity, working his way in any menial capacity, but never overtaking thefugitives. When he reached St. Petersburg they had departed for Paris;and when he followed them there he learned that they had just set offfor Copenhagen. At the Danish capital he was again a few days late, forthey had journeyed on to London, where he at last succeeded in runningthem to earth. As to what occurred there, we cannot do better than quotethe old hunter's own account, as duly recorded in Dr. Watson's Journal,to which we are already under such obligations.
CHAPTER VI. A CONTINUATION OF THE REMINISCENCES OF JOHN WATSON, M.D.
OUR prisoner's furious resistance did not apparently indicate anyferocity in his disposition towards ourselves, for on finding himselfpowerless, he smiled in an affable manner, and expressed his hopes thathe had not hurt any of us in the scuffle. "I guess you're going to takeme to the police-station," he remarked to Sherlock Holmes. "My cab's atthe door. If you'll loose my legs I'll walk down to it. I'm not so lightto lift as I used to be."
Gregson and Lestrade exchanged glances as if they thought thisproposition rather a bold one; but Holmes at once took the prisoner athis word, and loosened the towel which we had bound round his ancles.[23] He rose and stretched his legs, as though to assure himself thatthey were free once more. I remember that I thought to myself, as I eyedhim, that I had seldom seen a more powerfully built man; and his darksunburned face bore an expression of determination and energy which wasas formidable as his personal strength.
"If there's a vacant place for a chief of the police, I reckon youare the man for it," he said, gazing with undisguised admiration at myfellow-lodger. "The way you kept on my trail was a caution."
"You had better come with me," said Holmes to the two detectives.
"I can drive you," said Lestrade.
"Good! and Gregson can come inside with me. You too, Doctor, you havetaken an interest in the case and may as well stick to us."
I assented gladly, and we all descended together. Our prisoner made noattempt at escape, but stepped calmly into the cab which had been his,and we followed him. Lestrade mounted the box, whipped up the horse, andbrought us in a very short time to our destination. We were ushered intoa small chamber where a police Inspector noted down our prisoner's nameand the names of the men with whose murder he had been charged. Theofficial was a white-faced unemotional man, who went through hisduties in a dull mechanical way. "The prisoner will be put before themagistrates in the course of the week," he said; "in the mean time, Mr.Jefferson Hope, have you anything that you wish to say? I must warn youthat your words will be taken down, and may be used against you."