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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/23564-0.txt b/23564-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..434b109 --- /dev/null +++ b/23564-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,19219 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rookwood, by William Harrison Ainsworth + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Rookwood + +Author: William Harrison Ainsworth + +Release Date: November 20, 2007 [EBook #23564] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROOKWOOD *** + + + + +Produced by Afra Ullah, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + "The immortal Ainsworth." _Thackeray._ + + + NOVELS + + BY + + WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH + + + _ROOKWOOD_ + + + "Gives a vivid picture of the times + and places with which he dealt." + _The New York Herald._ + + + THE RITTENHOUSE PRESS + PHILADELPHIA + + + + +[Illustration: DICK TURPIN CLEARS HORNSEY TOLL-GATE] + + + + + PRINTED IN U.S.A. BY ARRANGEMENT WITH + GEORGE BARRIE'S SONS + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Archaic + and dialect spellings have been retained. Greek text appears as + originally printed. + + A table of contents, though not present in the original publication, + has been provided below: + + MEMOIR + + TO MY MOTHER + + PREFACE + + BOOK I. THE WEDDING RING + I. The Vault + II. The Skeleton Hand + III. The Park + IV. The Hall + V. Sir Reginald Rookwood + VI. Sir Piers Rookwood + VII. The Return + VIII. An Irish Adventurer + IX. An English Adventurer + X. Ranulph Rookwood + XI. Lady Rookwood + XII. The Chamber of Death + XIII. The Brothers + + BOOK II. THE SEXTON + I. The Storm + II. The Funeral Oration + III. The Churchyard + IV. The Funeral + V. The Captive + VI. The Apparition + + BOOK III. THE GIPSY + I. A Morning Ride + II. A Gipsy Encampment + III. Sybil + IV. Barbara Lovel + V. The Inauguration + VI. Eleanor Mowbray + VII. Mrs. Mowbray + VIII. The Parting + IX. The Philter + X. Saint Cyprian's Cell + XI. The Bridal + XII. Alan Rookwood + XIII. Mr. Coates + XIV. Dick Turpin + + BOOK IV. THE RIDE TO YORK + I. The Rendezvous at Kilburn + II. Tom King + III. A Surprise + IV. The Hue and Cry + V. The Short Pipe + VI. Black Bess + VII. The York Stage + VIII. Roadside Inn + IX. Excitement + X. The Gibbet + XI. The Phantom Steed + XII. Cawood Ferry + + BOOK V. THE OATH + I. The Hut on Thorne Waste + II. Major Mowbray + III. Handassah + IV. The Dower of Sybil + V. The Sarcophagus + + L'ENVOY + + NOTES + + + + +_MEMOIR_ + + +William Harrison Ainsworth was born in King Street, Manchester, February +4, 1805, in a house that has long since been demolished. His father was +a solicitor in good practice, and the son had all the advantages that +educational facilities could afford. He was sent to the Manchester +grammar-school, and in one of his early novels has left an interesting +and accurate picture of its then condition, which may be contrasted with +that of an earlier period left by the "English opium-eater." At sixteen, +a brilliant, handsome youth, with more taste for romance and the drama +than for the dry details of the law, he was articled to a leading +solicitor of Manchester. The closest friend of his youth was a Mr. James +Crossley, who was some years older, but shared his intellectual taste +and literary enthusiasm. A drama written for private theatricals, in his +father's house was printed in _Arliss's Magazine_, and he also +contributed to the _Manchester Iris_, the _Edinburgh Magazine_, and the +_London Magazine_. He even started a periodical, which received the name +of _The Bœotian_, and died at the sixth number. Many of the fugitive +pieces of these early days were collected in volumes now exceedingly +rare: "December Tales" (London, 1823), which is not wholly from his pen; +the "Works of Cheviot Tichburn" (London, 1822; Manchester, 1825), +dedicated to Charles Lamb; and "A Summer Evening Tale" (London, 1825). + +"Sir John Chiverton" appeared in 1826, and for forty years was regarded +as one of his early works; but Mr. John Partington Aston has also +claimed to be its author. In all probability, both of these young men +joined in the production of the novel which attracted the attention of +Sir Walter Scott. On the death of his father, in 1824, Ainsworth went to +London to finish his legal education, but whatever intentions he may +have formed of humdrum study and determined attention to the details of +a profession in which he had no interest, were dissipated by contact +with the literary world of the metropolis. He made the acquaintance of +Mr. John Ebers, who at that time combined the duties of manager of the +Opera House with the business of a publisher. He it was who issued "Sir +John Chiverton," and the verses forming its dedication are understood to +have been addressed to Anne Frances ("Fanny") Ebers, whom Ainsworth +married October 11, 1826. Ainsworth had then to decide upon a career, +and, acting upon the suggestion of Ebers, his father-in-law, he began +business as a publisher; but after an experience of about eighteen +months he abandoned it. In this brief interval he introduced the Hon. +Mrs. Norton, and Ude, the cook, to the discerning though unequal +admiration of the British public. He was introduced to Sir Walter Scott, +who wrote the "Bonnets of Bonnie Dundee" for an annual issued by him. +Ainsworth gave him twenty guineas for it, which Sir Walter accepted, but +laughingly handed over to the little daughter of Lockhart, in whose +London house they had met. Ainsworth's literary aspirations still burned +with undiminished ardor, and several plans were formed only to be +abandoned, and when, in the summer of 1830, he visited Switzerland and +Italy, he was as far as ever from the fulfilment of his desires. In 1831 +he visited Chesterfield and began the novel of "Rookwood," in which he +successfully applied the method of Mrs. Radcliffe to English scenes and +characters. The finest passage is that relating Turpin's ride to York, +which is a marvel of descriptive writing. It was written, apparently in +a glow of inspiration, in less than a day and a half. "The feat," he +says, "for feat it was, being the composition of a hundred novel pages +in less than twenty-four hours, was achieved at 'The Elms,' a house I +then occupied at Kilburn." The success of "Rookwood" was marked and +immediate. Ainsworth at a bound reached popularity. This was in 1834, +and in 1837 he published "Crichton," which is a fine piece of historical +romance. The critics who had objected to the romantic glamor cast over +the career of Dick Turpin were still further horrified at the manner in +which that vulgar rascal, Jack Sheppard, was elevated into a hero of +romance. The outcry was not entirely without justification, nor was it +without effect on the novelist, who thenceforward avoided this perilous +ground. "Jack Sheppard" appeared in _Bentley's Miscellany_, of which +Ainsworth became editor in March, 1840, at a monthly salary of £51. The +story is powerfully written. In 1841 he received £1000 from the _Sunday +Times_ for "Old St. Paul's," and he, in 1848, had from the same source +another £1000 for the "Lancashire Witches." In 1841 he began the +publication of _Ainsworth's Magazine_, which came to an end in 1853, +when he acquired the _New Monthly Magazine_, which he edited for many +years. This was the heyday of Ainsworth's reputation alike in +literature and in society. His home at Kensal Manor House became famous +for its hospitality, and Dickens, Thackeray, Landseer, Clarkson +Stanfield, Talfourd, Jerrold, and Cruikshank were among his guests. The +list of his principal historical novels, with their dates of issue, may +now be given: "Rookwood," 1834; "Crichton," 1837; "Jack Sheppard," 1839; +"Tower of London," 1840; "Guy Fawkes," 1841; "Old St. Paul's, a Tale of +the Plague and the Fire of London," 1841; "Windsor Castle," 1843; "St. +James, or the Court of Queene Anne," 1844; "Star Chamber," 1854; +"Constable of the Tower," 1861; "The Lord Mayor of London," 1862; +"Cardinal Pole," 1863; "John Law, the Projector," 1864; "The Constable +de Bourbon," 1866; "Talbot Harland," 1870; "Boscobel," 1872; "The +Manchester Rebels, or the Fatal '45," 1873; and "The Goldsmith's Wife," +1874. These novels all met with a certain amount of success, but those +of later years did not attain the striking popularity of his earlier +efforts. Many have been translated into various modern languages, and +the editions of his various works are so numerous that some twenty-three +pages of the British Museum catalogue are devoted to his works. The +scenery and history of his native country had a perennial interest for +him, and a certain group of his novels--that is, the "Lancashire +Witches," "Guy Fawkes," "The Manchester Rebels," etc.--may almost be +said to form a novelist's history of Lancashire from the pilgrimage of +grace until the early part of the present century. + +Probably no more vivid account has been written of the great fire and +plague of London than that given in "Old St. Paul's." The charm of +Ainsworth's novels is not at all dependent upon the analysis of motives +or subtle description of character. Of this he has little or nothing, +but he realizes vividly a scene or an incident, and conveys the +impression with great force and directness to the reader's mind. +Ainsworth came upon the reading world at a happy moment. People were +weary of the inanities of the fashionable novel, and were ready to +listen to one who had a power of vivacious narrative. In 1881, when he +was in his seventy-seventh year, a pleasant tribute of respect and +admiration was paid to him in his native town. The Mayor of Manchester +entertained him at a banquet in the town hall September 15, 1881, "as an +expression of the high esteem in which he is held by his fellow-townsmen +and of his services to literature." In proposing Mr. Ainsworth's health, +the mayor gave a curious instance of the popularity of his writings. "In +our Manchester public free libraries there are two hundred and fifty +volumes of Mr. Ainsworth's different works. During the last twelve +months these volumes have been read seven thousand six hundred and sixty +times, mostly by the artisan class of readers. And this means that +twenty volumes of his works are being perused in Manchester by readers +of the free libraries every day all the year through." It was well that +this pleasant recognition was not longer delayed. The contrast was +pathetically great between the tall, handsome, dandified figure +presented in the portraits of him by Pickersgill and Maclise, and the +bent and feeble old man who stood by and acknowledged the plaudits of +those who had assembled to honor him. His last published work was +"Stanley Brereton," which he dedicated to his hospitable entertainer. +He died at Reigate January 3, 1882, leaving a widow and also three +daughters by his first marriage. He was buried at Kensal Green Cemetery. +With the exception of George Gleig, he was the last survivor of the +brilliant group who wrote for the early numbers of _Fraser's Magazine_, +and, though he died in harness, had outlived nearly all the associates +of the days when he first achieved fame. + + + + +_TO MY MOTHER_ + + +When I inscribed this Romance to you, my dear Mother, on its first +appearance, I was satisfied that, whatever reception it might meet with +elsewhere, at your hands it would be sure of indulgence. Since then, the +approbation your partiality would scarcely have withheld has been +liberally accorded by the public; and I have the satisfaction of +reflecting, that in following the dictates of affection, which prompted +me to select the dearest friend I had in the world as the subject of a +dedication, I have not overstepped the limits of prudence; nor, in +connecting your honored name with this trifling production, involved you +in a failure which, had it occurred, would have given you infinitely +more concern than myself. After a lapse of three years, during which my +little bark, fanned by pleasant and prosperous breezes, has sailed, more +than once, securely into port, I again commit it to the waters, with +more confidence than heretofore, and with a firmer reliance that, if it +should be found "after many days," it may prove a slight memorial of the +warmest filial regard. + +Exposed to trials of no ordinary difficulty, and visited by domestic +affliction of no common severity, you, my dear Mother, have borne up +against the ills of life with a fortitude and resignation which those +who know you best can best appreciate, but which none can so well +understand, or so thoroughly appreciate, as myself. Suffering is the lot +of all. Submission under the dispensation is permitted to few. And it is +my fervent hope that my own children may emulate your virtues, if they +are happily spared your sorrows. + + + + +_PREFACE_ + + +During a visit to Chesterfield, in the autumn of the year 1831, I first +conceived the notion of writing this story. Wishing to describe, +somewhat minutely, the trim gardens, the picturesque domains, the +rook-haunted groves, the gloomy chambers, and gloomier galleries, of an +ancient Hall with which I was acquainted, I resolved to attempt a story +in the bygone style of Mrs. Radcliffe,--which had always inexpressible +charms for me,--substituting an old English squire, an old English +manorial residence, and an old English highwayman, for the Italian +marchese, the castle, and the brigand of the great mistress of Romance. + +While revolving this subject, I happened, one evening, to enter the +spacious cemetery attached to the church with the queer, twisted +steeple, which, like the uplifted tail of the renowned Dragon of +Wantley, to whom "houses and churches were as capons and turkeys," seems +to menace the good town of Chesterfield with destruction. Here an +incident occurred, on the opening of a vault, which it is needless to +relate, but which supplied me with a hint for the commencement of my +romance, as well as for the ballad entitled "The Coffin." Upon this hint +I immediately acted; and the earlier chapters of the book, together with +the description of the ancestral mansion of the Rookwoods, were +completed before I quitted Chesterfield. + +Another and much larger portion of the work was written during a +residence at Rottingdean, in Sussex, in the latter part of 1833, and +owes its inspiration to many delightful walks over the South Downs. +Romance-writing was pleasant occupation then. + +The Ride to York was completed in one day and one night. This feat--for +a feat it was, being the composition of a hundred ordinary novel pages +in less than twenty-four hours--was achieved at "The Elms," a house I +then occupied at Kilburn. Well do I remember the fever into which I was +thrown during the time of composition. My pen literally scoured over the +pages. So thoroughly did I identify myself with the flying highwayman, +that, once started, I found it impossible to halt. Animated by kindred +enthusiasm, I cleared every obstacle in my path with as much facility as +Turpin disposed of the impediments that beset his flight. In his +company, I mounted the hill-side, dashed through the bustling village, +swept over the desolate heath, threaded the silent street, plunged into +the eddying stream, and kept an onward course, without pause, without +hindrance, without fatigue. With him I shouted, sang, laughed, exulted, +wept. Nor did I retire to rest till, in imagination, I heard the bell of +York Minster toll forth the knell of poor Black Bess. + +The supernatural occurrence, forming the groundwork of one of the +ballads which I have made the harbinger of doom to the house of +Rookwood, is ascribed, by popular superstition, to a family resident in +Sussex; upon whose estate the fatal tree--a gigantic lime, with mighty +arms and huge girth of trunk, as described in the song--is still +carefully preserved. Cuckfield Place, to which this singular piece of +timber is attached, is, I may state, for the benefit of the curious, the +real Rookwood Hall; for I have not drawn upon imagination, but upon +memory, in describing the seat and domains of that fated family. The +general features of the venerable structure, several of its chambers, +the old garden, and, in particular, the noble park, with its spreading +prospects, its picturesque views of the Hall, "like bits of Mrs. +Radcliffe,"--as the poet Shelley once observed of the same scene,--its +deep glades, through which the deer come lightly tripping down, its +uplands, slopes, brooks, brakes, coverts, and groves, are carefully +delineated. + +The superstition of a fallen branch affording a presage of approaching +death is not peculiar to the family I have mentioned. Many other old +houses have been equally favored: in fact, there is scarcely an ancient +family in the kingdom without a boding sign. For instance, the Breretons +of Brereton, in Cheshire, were warned by the appearance of stocks of +trees floating, like the swollen bodies of long-drowned men, upon the +surface of a sombre lake--called Blackmere, from the inky color of its +waters--adjoining their residence; and numerous other examples might be +given. The death-presage of the Breretons is alluded to by Drayton in +the "_Polyolbion_." + +It has been well observed by Barry Cornwall, "that the songs which occur +in dramas are more natural than those which proceed from the author in +person." With equal force does the reasoning apply to the romance, which +may be termed the drama of the closet. It would seem strange, on a first +view, that an author should be more at home in an assumed character than +his own. But experience shows the position to be correct. Conscious he +is no longer individually associated with his work, the writer proceeds +with all the freedom of irresponsibility. His idiosyncrasy is merged in +that of the personages he represents. He thinks with their thoughts, +sees with their eyes, speaks with their tongues. His strains are such as +he himself--_per se_--would not, perhaps could not, have originated. In +this light he may be said to bring to his subject not one mind, but +several; he becomes not one poet, but many; for each actor in his drama +has a share, and an important share, in the lyrical _estro_ to which he +gives birth. This it is which has imparted any verve, variety, or +dramatic character they possess, to the ballads contained in this +production. Turpin I look upon as the real songster of "Black Bess;" to +Jerry Juniper I am unquestionably indebted for a flash melody which, +without his hint, would never have been written, while to the sexton I +owe the solitary gleam of light I have been enabled to throw upon the +horrors and mystery of the churchyard. + +As I have casually alluded to the flash song of Jerry Juniper, I may, +perhaps, be allowed to make a few observations upon this branch of +versification. It is somewhat curious, with a dialect so racy, +idiomatic, and plastic as our own cant, that its metrical capabilities +should have been so little essayed. The French have numerous _chansons +d'argot_, ranging from the time of Charles Bourdigné and Villon down to +that of Vidocq and Victor Hugo, the last of whom has enlivened the +horrors of his "_Dernier Jour d'un Condamné_" by a festive song of this +class. The Spaniards possess a large collection of _Romances de +Germania_, by various authors, amongst whom Quevedo holds a +distinguished place. We, on the contrary, have scarcely any slang songs +of merit. With a race of depredators so melodious and convivial as our +highwaymen, this is the more to be wondered at. Had they no bards +amongst their bands? Was there no minstrel at hand to record their +exploits? I can only call to mind one robber who was a poet,--Delany, +and _he_ was an Irishman. This barrenness, I have shown, is not +attributable to the poverty of the soil, but to the want of due +cultivation. Materials are at hand in abundance, but there have been few +operators. Dekker, Beaumont and Fletcher, and Ben Jonson have all dealt +largely in this jargon, but not lyrically; and one of the earliest and +best specimens of a canting-song occurs in Brome's "_Jovial Crew_;" and +in the "_Adventures of Bamfylde Moore Carew_" there is a solitary ode, +addressed by the mendicant fraternity to their newly-elected monarch; +but it has little humor, and can scarcely be called a genuine +canting-song. This ode brings us down to our own time; to the effusions +of the illustrious Pierce Egan; to Tom Moore's Flights of "_Fancy_;" to +John Jackson's famous chant, "_On the High Toby Spice Flash the +Muzzle_," cited by Lord Byron in a note to "_Don Juan_;" and to the +glorious Irish ballad, worth them all put together, entitled "_The Night +Before Larry Was Stretched_." This facetious performance is attributed +to the late Dean Burrowes, of Cork. It is worthy of note that almost all +modern aspirants to the graces of the _Musa Pedestris_ are Irishmen. Of +all rhymesters of the "_Road_," however, Dean Burrowes is, as yet, most +fully entitled to the laurel. Larry is quite "the potato!" + +And here, as the candidates are so few, and their pretensions so humble, + + I can't help putting in my claim for praise. + +I venture to affirm that I have done something more than has been +accomplished by my predecessors, or contemporaries, with the significant +language under consideration. I have written a purely flash song, of +which the great and peculiar merit consists in its being utterly +incomprehensible to the uninformed understanding, while its meaning must +be perfectly clear and perspicuous to the practised _patterer_ of +_Romany_, or _Pedlar's French_. I have, moreover, been the first to +introduce and naturalize amongst us a measure which, though common +enough in the Argotic minstrelsy of France, has been hitherto utterly +unknown to our _pedestrian_ poetry. Some years afterwards, the song +alluded to, better known under the title of "_Nix My Dolly, Pals,--Fake +Away!_" sprang into extraordinary popularity, being set to music by +Rodwell, and chanted by glorious Paul Bedford and clever little Mrs. +Keeley. + +Before quitting the subject of these songs, I may mention that they +probably would not have been written at all if one of the earliest of +them--a chance experiment--had not excited the warm approbation of my +friend, Charles Ollier, author of the striking romance of "Ferrers." +This induced me to prosecute the vein accidentally opened. + +Turpin was the hero of my boyhood. I had always a strange passion for +highwaymen, and have listened by the hour to their exploits, as narrated +by my father, and especially to those of "Dauntless Dick," that "chief +minion of the moon." One of Turpin's adventures in particular, the ride +to Hough Green, which took deep hold of my fancy, I have recorded in +song. When a boy, I have often lingered by the side of the deep old road +where this robbery was committed, to cast wistful glances into its +mysterious windings; and when night deepened the shadows of the trees, +have urged my horse on his journey, from a vague apprehension of a visit +from the ghostly highwayman. And then there was the Bollin, with its +shelvy banks, which Turpin cleared at a bound; the broad meadows over +which he winged his flight; the pleasant bowling-green of the pleasant +old inn at Hough, where he produced his watch to the Cheshire squires, +with whom he was upon terms of intimacy; all brought something of the +gallant robber to mind. No wonder, in after-years, in selecting a +highwayman for a character in a tale, I should choose my old favorite, +Dick Turpin. + +In reference to two of the characters here introduced, and drawn from +personages living at the time the tale was written, it may be mentioned +that poor Jerry Juniper met his death from an accident at Chichester, +while he was proceeding to Goodwood races; and that the knight of +Malta,--Mr. Tom, a brewer of Truro, the self-styled Sir William +Courtenay, who played the strange tricks at Canterbury chronicled in a +song given in these pages,--after his release from Banning Heath Asylum, +was shot through the head while leading on a mob of riotous Kentish +yeomen, whom he had persuaded that he was the Messiah! + +If the design of Romance be, what it has been held, the exposition of a +useful truth by means of an interesting story, I fear I have but +imperfectly fulfilled the office imposed upon me; having, as I will +freely confess, had, throughout, an eye rather to the reader's +amusement than his edification. One wholesome moral, however, may, I +trust, be gathered from the perusal of this Tale; namely, that, without +due governance of the passions, high aspirations and generous emotions +will little avail their possessor. The impersonations of the Tempter, +the Tempted, and the Better Influence may be respectively discovered, by +those who care to cull the honey from the flower, in the Sexton, in +Luke, and in Sybil. + +The chief object I had in view in making the present essay was to see +how far the infusion of a warmer and more genial current into the veins +of old Romance would succeed in reviving her fluttering and feeble +pulses. The attempt has succeeded beyond my most sanguine expectation. +Romance, if I am not mistaken, is destined shortly to undergo an +important change. Modified by the German and French writers--by Hoffman, +Tieck, Hugo, Dumas, Balzac, and Paul Lecroix (_le Bibliophile +Jacob_)--the structure commenced in our own land by Horace Walpole, Monk +Lewis, Mrs. Radcliffe, and Maturin, but left imperfect and inharmonious, +requires, now that the rubbish which choked up its approach is removed, +only the hand of the skilful architect to its entire renovation and +perfection. + +And now, having said my say, I must bid you, worthy reader, farewell. +Beseeching you, in the words of old Rabelais, "to interpret all my +sayings and doings in the perfectest sense. Reverence the cheese-like +brain that feeds you with all these jolly maggots; and do what lies in +you to keep me always merry. Be frolic now, my lads! Cheer up your +hearts, and joyfully read the rest, with all ease of your body, and +comfort of your reins." + + KENSAL MANOR-HOUSE, + _December 15, 1849_. + + + + +ROOKWOOD + + + + +_BOOK I_ + + +_THE WEDDING RING_ + + It has been observed, and I am apt to believe it is an observation + which will generally be found true, that before a terrible truth + comes to light, there are certain murmuring whispers fly before it, + and prepare the minds of men for the reception of the truth itself. + + _Gallick Reports: + Case of the Count Saint Geran._ + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_THE VAULT_ + + Let me know, therefore, fully the intent + Of this thy dismal preparation-- + This talk fit for a charnel. + + WEBSTER. + + +Within a sepulchral vault, and at midnight, two persons were seated. The +chamber was of singular construction and considerable extent. The roof +was of solid stone masonry, and rose in a wide semicircular arch to the +height of about seventeen feet, measured from the centre of the ceiling +to the ground floor, while the sides were divided by slight +partition-walls into ranges of low, narrow catacombs. The entrance to +each cavity was surrounded by an obtusely-pointed arch, resting upon +slender granite pillars; and the intervening space was filled up with a +variety of tablets, escutcheons, shields, and inscriptions, recording +the titles and heraldic honors of the departed. There were no doors to +the niches; and within might be seen piles of coffins, packed one upon +another, till the floor groaned with the weight of lead. Against one of +the pillars, upon a hook, hung a rack of tattered, time-out-of-mind +hatchments; and in the centre of the tomb might be seen the effigies of +Sir Ranulph de Rokewode, the builder of the mausoleum, and the founder +of the race who slept within its walls. This statue, wrought in black +marble, differed from most monumental carved-work, in that its posture +was erect and lifelike. Sir Ranulph was represented as sheathed in a +complete suit of mail, decorated with his emblazoned and gilded surcoat, +his arm leaning upon the pommel of a weighty curtal-axe. The attitude +was that of stern repose. A conically-formed helmet rested upon the +brow; the beaver was raised, and revealed harsh but commanding features. +The golden spur of knighthood was fixed upon the heel; and, at the feet, +enshrined in a costly sarcophagus of marble, dug from the same quarry as +the statue, rested the mortal remains of one of "the sternest knights to +his mortal foe that ever put speare in the rest." + +Streaming in a wavering line upon the roof, the sickly flame of a candle +partially fell upon the human figures before alluded to, throwing them +into darkest relief, and casting their opaque and fantastical shadows +along the ground. An old coffin upon a bier, we have said, served the +mysterious twain for a seat. Between them stood a bottle and a glass, +evidences that whatever might be the ulterior object of their stealthy +communion, the immediate comfort of the creature had not been altogether +overlooked. At the feet of one of the personages were laid a mattock, a +horn lantern--from which the candle had been removed--, a crowbar, and a +bunch of keys. Near to these implements of a vocation which the reader +will readily surmise, rested a strange superannuated terrier with a wiry +back and frosted muzzle; a head minus an ear, and a leg wanting a paw. +His master, for such we shall suppose him, was an old man with a lofty +forehead, covered with a singularly shaped nightcap, and clothed, as to +his lower limbs, with tight, ribbed, gray worsted hose, ascending +externally, after a bygone fashion, considerably above the knee. The old +man's elbow rested upon the handle of his spade, his wrist supported his +chin, and his gray glassy eyes, glimmering like marsh-meteors in the +candle-light, were fixed upon his companion with a glance of searching +scrutiny. + +The object of his investigation, a much more youthful and interesting +person, seemed lost in reverie, and alike insensible to time, place, and +the object of the meeting. With both hands grasped round the barrel of a +fowling-piece, and his face leaning upon the same support, the features +were entirely concealed from view; the light, too, being at the back, +and shedding its rays over, rather than upon his person, aided his +disguise. Yet, even thus imperfectly defined, the outline of the head, +and the proportions of the figure, were eminently striking and +symmetrical. Attired in a rough forester's costume, of the mode of 1737, +and of the roughest texture and rudest make, his wild garb would have +determined his rank as sufficiently humble in the scale of society, had +not a certain loftiness of manner, and bold, though reckless deportment, +argued pretensions on the part of the wearer to a more elevated station +in life, and contradicted, in a great measure, the impression produced +by the homely appearance of his habiliments. A cap of shaggy brown fur, +fancifully, but not ungracefully fashioned, covered his head, from +beneath which, dropping, in natural clusters over his neck and +shoulders, a cloud of raven hair escaped. Subsequently, when his face +was more fully revealed, it proved to be that of a young man, of dark +aspect, and grave, melancholy expression of countenance, approaching +even to the stern, when at rest; though sufficiently animated and +earnest when engaged in conversation, or otherwise excited. His features +were regular, delicately formed, and might be characterized as +singularly handsome, were it not for a want of roundness in the contour +of the face which gave the lineaments a thin, worn look, totally +distinct, however, from haggardness or emaciation. The nose was delicate +and fine; the nostril especially so; the upper lip was short, curling, +graceful, and haughtily expressive. As to complexion, his skin had a +truly Spanish warmth and intensity of coloring. His figure, when raised, +was tall and masculine, and though slight, exhibited great personal +vigor. + +We will now turn to his companion, the old man with the great gray +glittering eyes. Peter Bradley, of Rookwood--comitatû Ebor--, where he +had exercised the vocation of sexton for the best part of a life already +drawn out to the full span ordinarily allotted to mortality, was an odd +caricature of humanity. His figure was lean, and almost as lank as a +skeleton. His bald head reminded one of a bleached skull, allowing for +the overhanging and hoary brows. Deep-seated, and sunken within their +sockets, his gray orbs gleamed with intolerable lustre. Few could endure +his gaze; and, aware of his power, Peter seldom failed to exercise it. +He had likewise another habit, which, as it savored of insanity, made +him an object of commiseration with some, while it rendered him yet more +obnoxious to others. The habit we allude to, was the indulgence of wild +screaming laughter at times when all merriment should be checked; and +when the exhibition of levity must proceed from utter disregard of human +grief and suffering, or from mental alienation. + +Wearied with the prolonged silence, Peter at length condescended to +speak. His voice was harsh and grating as a rusty hinge. + +"Another glass?" said he, pouring out a modicum of the pale fluid. + +His companion shook his head. + +"It will keep out the cold," continued the sexton, pressing the liquid +upon him: "and you, who are not so much accustomed as I am to the damps +of a vault, may suffer from them. Besides," added he, sneeringly, "it +will give you courage." + +His companion answered not. But the flash of his eye resented the +implied reproach. + +"Nay, never stare at me so hard, Luke," continued the sexton; "I doubt +neither your courage nor your firmness. But if you won't drink, I will. +Here's to the rest eternal of Sir Piers Rookwood! You'll say amen to +that pledge, or you are neither grandson of mine, nor offspring of his +loins." + +"Why should I reverence his memory," answered Luke, bitterly, refusing +the proffered potion, "who showed no fatherly love for me? He disowned +_me_ in life: in death I disown _him_. Sir Piers Rookwood was no father +of mine." + +"He was as certainly your father, as Susan Bradley, your mother, was my +daughter," rejoined the sexton. + +"And, surely," cried Luke, impetuously, "_you_ need not boast of the +connection! 'Tis not for you, old man, to couple their names +together--to exult in your daughter's disgrace and your own dishonor. +Shame! shame! Speak not of them in the same breath, if you would not +have me invoke curses on the dead! _I_ have no reverence--whatever _you_ +may have--for the seducer--for the murderer of my mother." + +"You have choice store of epithets, in sooth, good grandson," rejoined +Peter, with a chuckling laugh. "Sir Piers a murderer!" + +"Tush!" exclaimed Luke, indignantly, "affect not ignorance. You have +better knowledge than I have of the truth or falsehood of the dark tale +that has gone abroad respecting my mother's fate; and unless report has +belied you foully, had substantial reasons for keeping sealed lips on +the occasion. But to change this painful subject," added he, with a +sudden alteration of manner, "at what hour did Sir Piers Rookwood die?" + +"On Thursday last, in the night-time. The exact hour I know not," +replied the sexton. + +"Of what ailment?" + +"Neither do I know that. His end was sudden, yet not without a warning +sign." + +"What warning?" inquired Luke. + +"Neither more nor less than the death-omen of the house. You look +astonished. Is it possible you have never heard of the ominous +Lime-Tree, and the Fatal Bough? Why, 'tis a common tale hereabouts, and +has been for centuries. Any old crone would tell it you. Peradventure, +you _have_ seen the old avenue of lime-trees leading to the hall, nearly +a quarter of a mile in length, and as noble a row of timber as any in +the West Riding of Yorkshire. Well, there is one tree--the last on the +left hand before you come to the clock-house--larger than all the +rest--a huge piece of timber, with broad spreading branches, and of I +know not what girth in the trunk. That tree is, in some mysterious +manner, connected with the family of Rookwood, and immediately previous +to the death of one of that line, a branch is sure to be shed from the +parent stem, prognosticating his doom. But you shall hear the legend." +And in a strange sepulchral tone, not inappropriate, however, to his +subject, Peter chanted the following ballad: + + THE LEGEND OF THE LIME-TREE + + Amid the grove o'er-arched above with lime-trees old and tall + --The avenue that leads unto the Rookwood's ancient hall--, + High o'er the rest its towering crest one tree rears to the sky, + And wide out-flings, like mighty wings, its arms umbrageously. + + Seven yards its base would scarce embrace--a goodly tree I ween, + With silver bark, and foliage dark, of melancholy green; + And mid its boughs two ravens house, and build from year to year, + Their black brood hatch--their black brood watch--then screaming + disappear. + + In that old tree when playfully the summer breezes sigh, + Its leaves are stirred, and there is heard a low and plaintive cry; + And when in shrieks the storm blast speaks its reverend boughs among, + Sad wailing moans, like human groans, the concert harsh prolong. + + But whether gale or calm prevail, or threatening cloud hath fled, + By hand of Fate, predestinate, a limb that tree will shed; + A verdant bough--untouched, I trow, by axe or tempest's breath-- + To Rookwood's head an omen dread of fast-approaching death. + + Some think that tree instinct must be with preternatural power. + Like 'larum bell Death's note to knell at Fate's appointed hour; + While some avow that on its bough are fearful traces seen, + Red as the stains from human veins, commingling with the green. + + Others, again, there are maintain that on the shattered bark + A print is made, where fiends have laid their scathing talons dark; + That, ere it falls, the raven calls thrice from that wizard bough; + And that each cry doth signify what space the Fates allow. + + In olden days, the legend says, as grim Sir Ranulph view'd + A wretched hag her footsteps drag beneath his lordly wood. + His bloodhounds twain he called amain, and straightway gave her chase; + Was never seen in forest green, so fierce, so fleet a race! + + With eyes of flame to Ranulph came each red and ruthless hound, + While mangled, torn--a sight forlorn!--the hag lay on the ground; + E'en where she lay was turned the clay, and limb and reeking bone + Within the earth, with ribald mirth, by Ranulph grim were thrown. + + And while as yet the soil was wet with that poor witch's gore, + A lime-tree stake did Ranulph take, and pierced her bosom's core; + And, strange to tell, what next befell!--that branch at once took root, + And richly fed, within its bed, strong suckers forth did shoot. + + From year to year fresh boughs appear--it waxes huge in size; + And, with wild glee, this prodigy Sir Ranulph grim espies. + One day, when he, beneath that tree, reclined in joy and pride, + A branch was found upon the ground--the next, Sir Ranulph died! + + And from that hour a fatal power has ruled that Wizard Tree, + To Ranulph's line a warning sign of doom and destiny: + For when a bough is found, I trow, beneath its shade to lie, + Ere suns shall rise thrice in the skies a Rookwood sure shall die! + +"And such an omen preceded Sir Piers's demise?" said Luke, who had +listened with some attention to his grandsire's song. + +"Unquestionably," replied the sexton. "Not longer ago than Tuesday +morning, I happened to be sauntering down the avenue I have just +described. I know not what took me thither at that early hour, but I +wandered leisurely on till I came nigh the Wizard Lime-Tree. Great +Heaven! what a surprise awaited me! a huge branch lay right across the +path. It had evidently just fallen, for the leaves were green and +unwithered; the sap still oozed from the splintered wood; and there was +neither trace of knife nor hatchet on the bark. I looked up among the +boughs to mark the spot from whence it had been torn by the hand of +Fate--for no human hand had done it--and saw the pair of ancestral +ravens perched amid the foliage, and croaking as those carrion fowl are +wont to do when they scent a carcass afar off. Just then a livelier +sound saluted my ears. The cheering cry of a pack of hounds resounded +from the courts, and the great gates being thrown open, out issued Sir +Piers, attended by a troop of his roystering companions, all on +horseback, and all making the welkin ring with their vociferations. Sir +Piers laughed as loudly as the rest, but his mirth was speedily checked. +No sooner had his horse--old Rook, his favorite steed, who never swerved +at stake or pale before--set eyes upon the accursed branch, than he +started as if the fiend stood before him, and, rearing backwards, flung +his rider from the saddle. At this moment, with loud screams, the wizard +ravens took flight. Sir Piers was somewhat hurt by the fall, but he was +more frightened than hurt; and though he tried to put a bold face on the +matter, it was plain that his efforts to recover himself were fruitless. +Dr. Titus Tyrconnel and that wild fellow Jack Palmer--who has lately +come to the hall, and of whom you know something--tried to rally him. +But it would not do. He broke up the day's sport, and returned +dejectedly to the hall. Before departing, however, he addressed a word +to me in private, respecting you; and pointed, with a melancholy shake +of the head, to the fatal branch. '_It is my death-warrant_,' said he, +gloomily. And so it proved; two days afterwards his doom was +accomplished." + +"And do you place faith in this idle legend?" asked Luke, with affected +indifference, although it was evident, from his manner, that he himself +was not so entirely free from a superstitious feeling of credulity as he +would have it appear. + +"Certes," replied the sexton. "I were more difficult to be convinced +than the unbelieving disciple else. Thrice hath it occurred to my own +knowledge, and ever with the same result: first, with Sir Reginald; +secondly, with thy own mother; and lastly, as I have just told thee, +with Sir Piers." + +"I thought you said, even now, that this death omen, if such it be, was +always confined to the immediate family of Rookwood, and not to mere +inmates of the mansion." + +"To the heads only of that house, be they male or female." + +"Then how could it apply to my mother? Was _she_ of that house? Was +_she_ a wife?" + +"Who shall say she was _not_?" rejoined the sexton. + +"Who shall say she _was_ so?" cried Luke, repeating the words with +indignant emphasis--"who will avouch _that_?" + +A smile, cold as a wintry sunbeam, played upon the sexton's rigid lips. + +"I will bear this no longer," cried Luke; "anger me not, or look to +yourself. In a word, have you anything to tell me respecting her? if +not, let me begone." + +"I have. But I will not be hurried by a boy like you," replied Peter, +doggedly. "Go, if you will, and take the consequences. My lips are +sealed forever, and I have much to say--much that it behoves you to +know." + +"Be brief, then. When you sought me out this morning, in my retreat with +the gipsy gang at Davenham Wood, you bade me meet you in the porch of +Rookwood Church at midnight. I was true to my appointment." + +"And I will keep my promise," replied the sexton. "Draw closer, that I +may whisper in thine ear. Of every Rookwood who lies around us--and all +that ever bore the name, except Sir Piers himself--who lies in state at +the hall--, are here--not one--mark what I say--not one male branch of +the house but has been suspected----" + +"Of what?" + +"Of murder!" returned the sexton, in a hissing whisper. + +"Murder!" echoed Luke, recoiling. + +"There is one dark stain--one foul blot on all. Blood--blood hath been +spilt." + +"By all?" + +"Ay, and _such_ blood! theirs was no common crime. Even murder hath its +degrees. Theirs was of the first class." + +"Their wives!--you cannot mean that?" + +"Ay, their wives!--I do. You have heard it, then? Ha! ha! 'tis a trick +they had. Did you ever hear the old saying? + + _No mate ever brook would + A Rook of the Rookwood!_ + +A merry saying it is, and true. No woman ever stood in a Rookwood's way +but she was speedily removed--that's certain. They had all, save poor +Sir Piers, the knack of stopping a troublesome woman's tongue, and +practised it to perfection. A rare art, eh?" + +"What have the misdeeds of his ancestry to do with Sir Piers," muttered +Luke, "much less with my mother?" + +"Everything. If he could not rid himself of his wife--and she is a match +for the devil himself--, the _mistress_ might be more readily set +aside." + +"Have you absolute knowledge of aught?" asked Luke, his voice tremulous +with emotion. + +"Nay, I but hinted." + +"Such hints are worse than open speech. Let me know the worst. Did he +kill her?" And Luke glared at the sexton as if he would have penetrated +his secret soul. + +But Peter was not easily fathomed. His cold, bright eye returned Luke's +gaze steadfastly, as he answered, composedly: + +"I have said all I know." + +"But not all you _think_." + +"Thoughts should not always find utterance, else we might often endanger +our own safety, and that of others." + +"An idle subterfuge--and, from you, worse than idle. I will have an +answer, yea or nay. Was it poison--was it steel?" + +"Enough--she died." + +"No, it is not enough. When? Where?" + +"In her sleep--in her bed." + +"Why, that was natural." + +A wrinkling smile crossed the sexton's brow. + +"What means that horrible gleam of laughter?" exclaimed Luke, grasping +the shoulder of the man of graves with such force as nearly to +annihilate him. "Speak, or I will strangle you. She died, you say, in +her sleep?" + +"She did so," replied the sexton, shaking off Luke's hold. + +"And was it to tell me that I had a mother's murder to avenge, that you +brought me to the tomb of her destroyer--when he is beyond the reach of +my vengeance?" + +Luke exhibited so much frantic violence of manner and gesture, that the +sexton entertained some little apprehension that his intellects were +unsettled by the shock of the intelligence. It was, therefore, in what +he intended for a soothing tone that he attempted to solicit his +grandson's attention. + +"I will hear nothing more," interrupted Luke, and the vaulted chamber +rang with his passionate lamentations. "Am I the sport of this mocking +fiend?" cried he, "to whom my agony is derision--my despair a source of +enjoyment--beneath whose withering glance my spirit shrinks--who, with +half-expressed insinuations, tortures my soul, awakening fancies that +goad me on to dark and desperate deeds? Dead mother! upon thee I call. +If in thy grave thou canst hear the cry of thy most wretched son, +yearning to avenge thee--answer me, if thou hast the power. Let me have +some token of the truth or falsity of these wild suppositions, that I +may wrestle against this demon. But no," added he, in accents of +despair, "no ear listens to me, save his to whom my wretchedness is food +for mockery." + +"Could the dead hear thee, thy mother might do so," returned the sexton. +"She lies within this space." + +Luke staggered back, as if struck by a sudden shot. He spoke not, but +fell with a violent shock against a pile of coffins, at which he caught +for support. + +"What have I done?" he exclaimed, recoiling. + +A thundering crash resounded through the vault. One of the coffins, +dislodged from its position by his fall, tumbled to the ground, and, +alighting upon its side, split asunder. + +"Great Heavens! what is this?" cried Luke, as a dead body, clothed in +all the hideous apparel of the tomb, rolled forth to his feet. + +"It is your mother's corpse," answered the sexton, coldly; "I brought +you hither to behold it. But you have anticipated my intentions." + +"_This_ my mother?" shrieked Luke, dropping upon his knees by the body, +and seizing one of its chilly hands, as it lay upon the floor, with the +face upwards. + +The sexton took the candle from the sconce. + +"Can this be death?" shouted Luke. "Impossible! Oh, God! she stirs--she +moves. The light!--quick. I see her stir! This is dreadful!" + +"Do not deceive yourself," said the sexton, in a tone which betrayed +more emotion than was his wont. "'Tis the bewilderment of fancy. She +will never stir again." + +And he shaded the candle with his hand, so as to throw the light full +upon the face of the corpse. It was motionless, as that of an image +carved in stone. No trace of corruption was visible upon the rigid, yet +exquisite tracery of its features. A profuse cloud of raven hair, +escaped from its swathements in the fall, hung like a dark veil over the +bosom and person of the dead, and presented a startling contrast to the +waxlike hue of the skin and the pallid cereclothes. Flesh still adhered +to the hand, though it mouldered into dust within the gripe of Luke, as +he pressed the fingers to his lips. The shroud was disposed like +night-gear about her person, and from without its folds a few withered +flowers had fallen. A strong aromatic odor, of a pungent nature, was +diffused around; giving evidence that the art by which the ancient +Egyptians endeavored to rescue their kindred from decomposition had been +resorted to, to preserve the fleeting charms of the unfortunate Susan +Bradley. + +A pause of awful silence succeeded, broken only by the convulsive +respiration of Luke. The sexton stood by, apparently an indifferent +spectator of the scene of horror. His eye wandered from the dead to the +living, and gleamed with a peculiar and indefinable expression, half +apathy, half abstraction. For one single instant, as he scrutinized the +features of his daughter, his brow, contracted by anger, immediately +afterwards was elevated in scorn. But otherwise you would have sought in +vain to read the purport of that cold, insensible glance, which dwelt +for a brief space on the face of the mother, and settled eventually upon +her son. At length the withered flowers attracted his attention. He +stooped to pick up one of them. + +"Faded as the hand that gathered ye--as the bosom on which ye were +strewn!" he murmured. "No sweet smell left--but--faugh!" Holding the dry +leaves to the flame of the candle, they were instantly ignited, and the +momentary brilliance played like a smile upon the features of the dead. +Peter observed the effect. "Such was thy life," he exclaimed; "a brief, +bright sparkle, followed by dark, utter extinction!" + +Saying which, he flung the expiring ashes of the floweret from his hand. + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_THE SKELETON HAND_ + + _Duch._ You are very cold. + I fear you are not well after your travel. + Ha! lights.----Oh horrible! + + _Fer._ Let her have lights enough. + + _Duch._ What witchcraft doth he practise, that he hath left + A dead hand here? + + _Duchess of Malfy._ + + +The sexton's waning candle now warned him of the progress of time, and +having completed his arrangements, he addressed himself to Luke, +intimating his intention of departing. But receiving no answer, and +remarking no signs of life about his grandson, he began to be +apprehensive that he had fallen into a swoon. Drawing near to Luke, he +took him gently by the arm. Thus disturbed, Luke groaned aloud. + +"I am glad to find you can breathe, if it be only after that melancholy +fashion," said the sexton; "but come, I have wasted time enough already. +You must indulge your grief elsewhere." + +"Leave me," sighed Luke. + +"What, here? It were as much as my office is worth. You can return some +other night. But go you must, now--at least, if you take on thus. I +never calculated upon a scene like this, or it had been long ere I +brought you hither. So come away; yet, stay;--but first lend me a hand +to replace the body in the coffin." + +"Touch it not," exclaimed Luke; "she shall not rest another hour within +these accursed walls. I will bear her hence myself." And, sobbing +hysterically, he relapsed into his former insensibility. + +"Poh! this is worse than midsummer madness," said Peter; "the lad is +crazed with grief, and all about a mother who has been four-and-twenty +years in her grave. I will e'en put her out of the way myself." + +Saying which, he proceeded, as noiselessly as possible, to raise the +corpse in his arms, and deposited it softly within its former tenement. +Carefully as he executed his task, he could not accomplish it without +occasioning a slight accident to the fragile frame. Insensible as he +was, Luke had not relinquished the hold he maintained of his mother's +hand. And when Peter lifted the body, the ligaments connecting the hand +with the arm were suddenly snapped asunder. It would appear afterwards, +that this joint had been tampered with, and partially dislocated. +Without, however, entering into further particulars in this place, it +may be sufficient to observe that the hand, detached from the socket at +the wrist, remained within the gripe of Luke; while, ignorant of the +mischief he had occasioned, the sexton continued his labors +unconsciously, until the noise which he of necessity made in stamping +with his heel upon the plank, recalled his grandson to sensibility. The +first thing that the latter perceived, upon collecting his faculties, +were the skeleton fingers twined within his own. + +"What have you done with the body? Why have you left this with me?" +demanded he. + +"It was not my intention to have done so," answered the sexton, +suspending his occupation. "I have just made fast the lid, but it is +easily undone. You had better restore it." + +"Never," returned Luke, staring at the bony fragment. + +"Pshaw! of what advantage is a dead hand? 'Tis an unlucky keepsake, and +will lead to mischief. The only use I ever heard of such a thing being +turned to, was in the case of Bow-legged Ben, who was hanged in irons +for murder, on Hardchase Heath, on the York Road, and whose hand was cut +off at the wrist the first night to make a Hand of Glory, or Dead Man's +Candle. Hast never heard what the old song says?" And without awaiting +his grandson's response, Peter broke into the following wild strain: + + THE HAND OF GLORY[1] + + From the corse that hangs on the roadside tree + --A murderer's corse it needs must be--, + Sever the right hand carefully:-- + Sever the hand that the deed hath done, + Ere the flesh that clings to the bones be gone; + In its dry veins must blood be none. + Those ghastly fingers white and cold, + Within a winding-sheet enfold; + Count the mystic count of seven: + Name the Governors of Heaven.[2] + Then in earthen vessel place them, + And with dragon-wort encase them, + Bleach them in the noonday sun, + Till the marrow melt and run, + Till the flesh is pale and wan, + As a moon-ensilvered cloud, + As an unpolluted shroud. + Next within their chill embrace + The dead man's Awful Candle place; + Of murderer's fat must that candle be + --You may scoop it beneath the roadside tree--, + Of wax, and of Lapland sisame. + Its wick must be twisted of hair of the dead, + By the crow and her brood on the wild waste shed. + Wherever that terrible light shall burn + Vainly the sleeper may toss and turn; + His leaden lids shall he ne'er unclose + So long as that magical taper glows. + Life and treasures shall he command + Who knoweth the charm of the Glorious Hand! + But of black cat's gall let him aye have care, + And of screech-owl's venomous blood beware! + +"Peace!" thundered Luke, extending his mother's hand towards the sexton. +"What seest thou?" + +"I see something shine. Hold it nigher the light. Ha! that is strange, +truly. How came that ring there?" + +"Ask of Sir Piers! ask of her _husband_!" shouted Luke, with a wild +burst of exulting laughter. "Ha! ha! ha! 'tis a wedding-ring! And look! +the finger is bent. It must have been placed upon it in her lifetime. +There is no deception in this--no trickery--ha!" + +"It would seem not; the sinew must have been contracted in life. The +tendons are pulled down so tightly, that the ring could not be withdrawn +without breaking the finger." + +"You are sure that coffin contains her body?" + +"As sure as I am that this carcass is my own." + +"The hand--'tis hers. Can any doubt exist?" + +"Wherefore should it? It was broken from the arm by accident within this +moment. I noticed not the occurrence, but it must have been so." + +"Then it follows that she was wedded, and I am not----" + +"Illegitimate. For your own sake I am glad of it." + +"My heart will burst. Oh! could I but establish the fact of this +marriage, her wrongs would be indeed avenged." + +"Listen to me, Luke," said the sexton, solemnly. "I told you, when I +appointed this midnight interview, I had a secret to communicate. That +secret is now revealed--that secret was your mother's marriage." + +"And it was known to you during her lifetime?" + +"It was. But I was sworn to secrecy." + +"You have proofs then?" + +"I have nothing beyond Sir Piers's word--and he is silent now." + +"By whom was the ceremony performed?" + +"By a Romish priest--a Jesuit--one Father Checkley, at that time an +inmate of the hall; for Sir Piers, though he afterwards abjured it, at +that time professed the Catholic faith, and this Checkley officiated as +his confessor and counsellor; as the partner of his pleasures, and the +prompter of his iniquities. He was your father's evil genius." + +"Is he still alive?" + +"I know not. After your mother's death he left the hall. I have said he +was a Jesuit, and I may add, that he was mixed up in dark political +intrigues, in which your father was too feeble a character to take much +share. But though too weak to guide, he was a pliant instrument, and +this Checkley knew. He moulded him according to his wishes. I cannot +tell you what was the nature of their plots. Suffice it, they were such +as, if discovered, would have involved your father in ruin. He was +saved, however, by his wife." + +"And her reward----" groaned Luke. + +"Was death," replied Peter, coldly. "What Jesuit ever forgave a +wrong--real or imaginary? Your mother, I ought to have said, was a +Protestant. Hence there was a difference of religious opinion--the worst +of differences that can exist between husband and wife--. Checkley vowed +her destruction, and he kept his vow. He was enamored of her beauty. +But while he burnt with adulterous desire, he was consumed by fiercest +hate--contending, and yet strangely-reconcilable passions--as you may +have reason, hereafter, to discover." + +"Go on," said Luke, grinding his teeth. + +"I have done," returned Peter. "From that hour your father's love for +his supposed mistress, and unacknowledged wife, declined; and with his +waning love declined her health. I will not waste words in describing +the catastrophe that awaited her union. It will be enough to say, she +was found one morning a corpse within her bed. Whatever suspicions were +attached to Sir Piers were quieted by Checkley, who distributed gold, +largely and discreetly. The body was embalmed by Barbara Lovel, the +Gipsy Queen." + +"My foster-mother!" exclaimed Luke, in a tone of extreme astonishment. + +"Ah," replied Peter, "from her you may learn all particulars. You have +now seen what remains of your mother. You are in possession of the +secret of your birth. The path is before you, and if you would arrive at +honor you must pursue it steadily, turning neither to the right nor to +the left. Opposition you will meet at each step. But fresh lights may be +thrown upon this difficult case. It is in vain to hope for Checkley's +evidence, even should the caitiff priest be living. He is himself too +deeply implicated--ha!" + +Peter stopped, for at this moment the flame of the candle suddenly +expired, and the speakers were left in total darkness. Something like a +groan followed the conclusion of the sexton's discourse. It was evident +that it proceeded not from his grandson, as an exclamation burst from +him at the same instant. Luke stretched out his arm. A cold hand seemed +to press against his own, communicating a chill like death to his frame. + +"Who is between us?" he ejaculated. + +"The devil!" cried the sexton, leaping from the coffin-lid with an +agility that did him honor. "Is aught between us?" + +"I will discharge my gun. Its flash will light us." + +"Do so," hastily rejoined Peter. "But not in this direction." + +"Get behind me," cried Luke. And he pulled the trigger. + +A blaze of vivid light illumined the darkness. Still nothing was +visible, save the warrior figure, which was seen for a moment, and then +vanished like a ghost. The buck-shot rattled against the further end of +the vault. + +"Let us go hence," ejaculated the sexton, who had rushed to the door, +and thrown it wide open. "Mole! Mole!" cried he, and the dog sprang +after him. + +"I could have sworn I felt something," said Luke; "whence issued that +groan?" + +"Ask not whence," replied Peter. "Reach me my mattock, and spade, and +the lantern; they are behind you. And stay, it were better to bring away +the bottle." + +"Take them, and leave me here." + +"Alone in the vault?--no, no, Luke, I have not told you half I know +concerning that mystic statue. It is said to move--to walk--to raise its +axe--be warned, I pray." + +"Leave me, or abide, if you will, my coming, in the church. If there is +aught that may be revealed to my ear alone, I will not shrink from it, +though the dead themselves should arise to proclaim the mystery. It may +be--but--go--there are your tools." And he shut the door, with a jar +that shook the sexton's frame. + +Peter, after some muttered murmurings at the hardihood and madness, as +he termed it, of his grandson, disposed his lanky limbs to repose upon a +cushioned bench without the communion railing. As the pale moonlight +fell upon his gaunt and cadaverous visage, he looked like some unholy +thing suddenly annihilated by the presiding influence of that sacred +spot. Mole crouched himself in a ring at his master's feet. Peter had +not dozed many minutes, when he was aroused by Luke's return. The latter +was very pale, and the damp stood in big drops upon his brow. + +"Have you made fast the door?" inquired the sexton. + +"Here is the key." + +"What have you seen?" he next demanded. + +Luke made no answer. At that moment, the church clock struck two, +breaking the stillness with an iron clang. Luke raised his eyes. A ray +of moonlight, streaming obliquely through the painted window, fell upon +the gilt lettering of a black mural entablature. The lower part of the +inscription was in the shade, but the emblazonment, and the words-- + + Orate pro anima Reginaldi Rookwood equitis aurati, + +were clear and distinct. Luke trembled, he knew not why, as the sexton +pointed to it. + +"You have heard of the handwriting upon the wall," said Peter. "Look +there!--'His kingdom hath been taken from him.' Ha, ha! Listen to me. Of +all thy monster race--of all the race of Rookwood I should say--no demon +ever stalked the earth more terrible than him whose tablet you now +behold. By him a brother was betrayed; by him a brother's wife was +dishonored. Love, honor, friendship, were with him as words. He regarded +no ties; he defied and set at naught all human laws and obligations--and +yet he was religious, or esteemed so--received the _viaticum_, and died +full of years and honors, hugging salvation to his sinful heart. And +after death he has yon lying epitaph to record his virtues. _His_ +virtues! ha, ha! Ask him who preaches to the kneeling throng gathering +within this holy place what shall be the murderer's portion--and he will +answer--_Death!_ And yet Sir Reginald was long-lived. The awful +question, 'Cain, where is thy brother?' broke not his tranquil slumbers. +Luke, I have told you much--but not all. You know not, as yet--nor shall +you know your destiny; but you shall be the avenger of infamy and +blood. I have a sacred charge committed to my keeping, which, hereafter, +I may delegate to you. You _shall_ be Sir Luke Rookwood, but the +conditions must be mine to propose." + +"No more," said Luke; "my brain reels. I am faint. Let us quit this +place, and get into the fresh air." And striding past his grandsire he +traversed the aisles with hasty steps. Peter was not slow to follow. The +key was applied, and they emerged into the churchyard. The grassy mounds +were bathed in the moonbeams, and the two yew-trees, throwing their +black jagged shadows over the grave hills, looked like evil spirits +brooding over the repose of the righteous. + +The sexton noticed the deathly paleness of Luke's countenance, but he +fancied it might proceed from the tinge of the sallow moonlight. + +"I will be with you at your cottage ere daybreak," said Luke. And +turning an angle of the church, he disappeared from view. + +"So," exclaimed Peter, gazing after him, "the train is laid; the spark +has been applied; the explosion will soon follow. The hour is fast +approaching when I shall behold this accursed house shaken to dust, and +when my long-delayed vengeance will be gratified. In that hope I am +content to drag on the brief remnant of my days. Meanwhile, I must not +omit the stimulant. In a short time I may not require it." Draining the +bottle to the last drop, he flung it from him, and commenced chanting, +in a high key and cracked voice, a wild ditty, the words of which ran as +follow: + + THE CARRION CROW + + The Carrion Crow is a sexton bold. + He raketh the dead from out the mould; + He delveth the ground like a miser old, + Stealthily hiding his store of gold. + _Caw! Caw!_ + + The Carrion Crow hath a coat of black, + Silky and sleek like a priest's to his back; + Like a lawyer he grubbeth--no matter what way-- + The fouler the offal, the richer his prey. + _Caw! Caw! the Carrion Crow!_ + _Dig! Dig! in the ground below!_ + + The Carrion Crow hath a dainty maw, + With savory pickings he crammeth his craw; + Kept meat from the gibbet it pleaseth his whim, + It can never _hang_ too long for him! + _Caw! Caw!_ + + The Carrion Crow smelleth powder, 'tis said, + Like a soldier escheweth the taste of cold lead; + No jester, or mime, hath more marvellous wit, + For, wherever he lighteth, he maketh a hit! + _Caw! Caw! the Carrion Crow!_ + _Dig! Dig! in the ground below!_ + +Shouldering his spade, and whistling to his dog, the sexton quitted the +churchyard. + +Peter had not been gone many seconds, when a dark figure, muffled in a +wide black mantle, emerged from among the tombs surrounding the church; +gazed after him for a few seconds, and then, with a menacing gesture, +retreated behind the ivied buttresses of the gray old pile. + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_THE PARK_ + + _Brian._ Ralph! hearest thou any stirring? + + _Ralph._ I heard one speak here, hard by, in the hollow. Peace! + master, speak low. Nouns! if I do not hear a bow go off, and the + buck bray, I never heard deer in my life. + + _Bri._ Stand, or I'll shoot. + + _Sir Arthur._ Who's there? + + _Bri._ I am the keeper, and do charge you stand. + You have stolen my deer. + + _Merry Devil of Edmonton._ + + +Luke's first impulse had been to free himself from the restraint imposed +by his grandsire's society. He longed to commune with himself. Leaping +the small boundary-wall, which defended the churchyard from a deep green +lane, he hurried along in a direction contrary to that taken by the +sexton, making the best of his way until he arrived at a gap in the +high-banked hazel hedge which overhung the road. Heedless of the +impediments thrown in his way by the undergrowth of a rough ring fence, +he struck through the opening that presented itself, and, climbing over +the moss-grown paling, trod presently upon the elastic sward of Rookwood +Park. + +A few minutes' rapid walking brought him to the summit of a rising +ground crowned with aged oaks and, as he passed beneath their broad +shadows, his troubled spirit, soothed by the quietude of the scene, in +part resumed its serenity. + +Luke yielded to the gentle influence of the time and hour. The stillness +of the spot allayed the irritation of his frame, and the dewy chillness +cooled the fever of his brow. Leaning for support against the gnarled +trunk of one of the trees, he gave himself up to contemplation. The +events of the last hour--of his whole existence--passed in rapid review +before him. The thought of the wayward, vagabond life he had led; of the +wild adventures of his youth; of all he had been; of all he had _done_, +of all he had endured--crowded his mind; and then, like the passing of a +cloud flitting across the autumnal moon, and occasionally obscuring the +smiling landscape before him, his soul was shadowed by the remembrance +of the awful revelations of the last hour, and the fearful knowledge he +had acquired of his mother's fate--of his father's guilt. + +The eminence on which he stood was one of the highest points of the +park, and commanded a view of the hall, which might be a quarter of a +mile distant, discernible through a broken vista of trees, its whitened +walls glimmering in the moonlight, and its tall chimney spiring far from +out the round masses of wood in which it lay embosomed. The ground +gradually sloped in that direction, occasionally rising into swells, +studded with magnificent timber--dipping into smooth dells, or +stretching out into level glades, until it suddenly sank into a deep +declivity, that formed an effectual division, without the intervention +of a haw-haw, or other barrier, between the chase and the home-park. A +slender stream strayed through this ravine, having found its way thither +from a small reservoir, hidden in the higher plantations to the left; +and further on, in the open ground, and in a line with the hall, though, +of course, much below the level of the building, assisted by many local +springs, and restrained by a variety of natural and artificial +embankments, this brook spread out into an expansive sheet of water. +Crossed by a rustic bridge, the only communication between the parks, +the pool found its outlet into the meads below; and even at that +distance, and in that still hour, you might almost catch the sound of +the brawling waters, as they dashed down the weir in a foaming cascade; +while, far away, in the spreading valley, the serpentine meanderings of +the slender current might be traced, glittering like silvery threads in +the moonshine. The mild beams of the queen of night, then in her +meridian, trembled upon the topmost branches of the tall timber, +quivering like diamond spray upon the outer foliage; and, penetrating +through the interstices of the trees, fell upon the light wreaths of +vapor then beginning to arise from the surface of the pool, steeping +them in misty splendor, and lending to this part of the picture a +character of dreamy and unearthly beauty. + +All else was in unison. No sound interrupted the silence of Luke's +solitude, except the hooting of a large gray owl, that, scared at his +approach, or in search of prey, winged its spectral flight in continuous +and mazy circles round his head, uttering at each wheel its startling +whoop; or a deep, distant bay, that ever and anon boomed upon the ear, +proceeding from a pack of hounds kennelled in a shed adjoining the pool +before mentioned, but which was shrouded from view by the rising mist. +No living objects presented themselves, save a herd of deer, crouched in +a covert of brown fern beneath the shadow of a few stunted trees, +immediately below the point of land on which Luke stood; and although +their branching antlers could scarcely be detected from the +ramifications of the wood itself, they escaped not his practised ken. + +"How often," murmured Luke, "in years gone by, have I traversed these +moonlit glades, and wandered amidst these woodlands, on nights heavenly +as this--ay, and to some purpose, as yon thinned herd might testify! +Every dingle, every dell, every rising brow, every bosky vale and +shelving covert, have been as familiar to my track as to that of the +fleetest and freest of their number: scarce a tree amidst the thickest +of yon outstretching forest with which I cannot claim acquaintance; 'tis +long since I have seen them. By Heavens! 'tis beautiful! and it is all +my own! Can I forget that it was here I first emancipated myself from +thraldom? Can I forget the boundless feeling of delight that danced +within my veins when I first threw off the yoke of servitude, and roved +unshackled, unrestrained, amidst these woods? The wild intoxicating +bliss still tingles to my heart. And they are all my own--my own! +Softly, what have we there?" + +Luke's attention was arrested by an object which could not fail to +interest him, sportsman as he was. A snorting bray was heard, and a +lordly stag stalked slowly and majestically from out the copse. Luke +watched the actions of the noble animal with great interest, drawing +back into the shade. A hundred yards, or thereabouts, might be between +him and the buck. It was within range of ball. Luke mechanically grasped +his gun; yet his hand had scarcely raised the piece half way to his +shoulder, when he dropped it again to its rest. + +"What am I about to do?" he mentally ejaculated. "Why, for mere pastime, +should I take away yon noble creature's life, when his carcass would be +utterly useless to me? Yet such is the force of habit, that I can scarce +resist the impulse that tempted me to fire; and I have known the time, +and that not long since, when I should have shown no such self-control." + +Unconscious of the danger it had escaped, the animal moved forward with +the same stately step. Suddenly it stopped, with ears pricked, as if +some sound had smote them. At that instant the click of a gun-lock was +heard, at a little distance to the right. The piece had missed fire. An +instantaneous report from another gun succeeded; and, with a bound high +in air, the buck fell upon his back, struggling in the agonies of death. +Luke had at once divined the cause; he was aware that poachers were at +hand. He fancied that he knew the parties; nor was he deceived in his +conjecture. Two figures issued instantly from a covert on the right, and +making to the spot, the first who reached it put an end to the animal's +struggles by plunging a knife into its throat. The affrighted herd took +to their heels, and were seen darting swiftly down the chase. + +One of the twain, meantime, was occupied in feeling for the deer's fat, +when he was approached by the other, who pointed in the direction of the +house. The former raised himself from his kneeling posture, and both +appeared to listen attentively. Luke fancied he heard a slight sound in +the distance; whatever the noise proceeded from, it was evident the +deer-stealers were alarmed. They laid hold of the buck, and, dragging it +along, concealed the carcass among the tall fern; they then retreated, +halting for an instant to deliberate, within a few yards of Luke, who +was concealed from their view by the trunk of the tree, behind which he +had ensconced his person. They were so near, that he lost not a word of +their muttered conference. + +"The game's spoiled this time, Rob Rust, any how," growled one, in an +angry tone; "the hawks are upon us, and we must leave this brave buck to +take care of himself. Curse him!--who'd 'a' thought of Hugh Badger's +quitting his bed to-night? Respect for his late master might have kept +him quiet the night before the funeral. But look out, lad. Dost see +'em?" + +"Ay, thanks to old Oliver--yonder they are," returned the other. +"One--two--three--and a muzzled bouser to boot. There's Hugh at the head +on 'em. Shall we stand and show fight? I have half a mind for it." + +"No, no," replied the first speaker; "that will never do, Rob--no +fighting. Why run the risk of being grabb'd for a haunch of venison? Had +Luke Bradley or Jack Palmer been with us, it might have been another +affair. As it is, it won't pay. Besides, we've that to do at the hall +to-morrow night that may make men of us for the rest of our nat'ral +lives. We've pledged ourselves to Jack Palmer, and we can't be off in +honor. It won't do to be snabbled in the nick of it. So let's make for +the prad in the lane. Keep in the shade as much as you can. Come along, +my hearty." And away the two worthies scampered down the hill-side. + +"Shall I follow," thought Luke, "and run the risk of falling into the +keeper's hand, just at this crisis, too? No, but if I am found here, I +shall be taken for one of the gang. Something must be done--ha!--devil +take them, here they are already." + +Further time was not allowed him for reflection. A hoarse baying was +heard, followed by a loud cry from the keepers. The dog had scented out +the game; and, as secrecy was no longer necessary, his muzzle had been +removed. To rush forth now were certain betrayal; to remain was almost +equally assured detection; and, doubting whether he should obtain +credence if he delivered himself over in that garb and armed, Luke at +once rejected the idea. Just then it flashed across his recollection +that his gun had remained unloaded, and he applied himself eagerly to +repair this negligence, when he heard the dog in full cry, making +swiftly in his direction. He threw himself upon the ground, where the +fern was thickest; but this seemed insufficient to baffle the sagacity +of the hound--the animal had got his scent, and was baying close at +hand. The keepers were drawing nigh. Luke gave himself up for lost. The +dog, however, stopped where the two poachers had halted, and was there +completely at fault: snuffing the ground, he bayed, wheeled round, and +then set off with renewed barking upon their track. Hugh Badger and his +comrades loitered an instant at the same place, looked warily round, and +then, as Luke conjectured, followed the course taken by the hound. + +Swift as thought, Luke arose, and keeping as much as possible under +cover of the trees, started in a cross line for the lane. Rapid as was +his flight, it was not without a witness: one of the keeper's +assistants, who had lagged behind, gave the view-halloo in a loud voice. +Luke pressed forward with redoubled energy, endeavoring to gain the +shelter of the plantation, and this he could readily have accomplished, +had no impediment been in his way. But his rage and vexation were +boundless, when he heard the keeper's cry echoed by shouts immediately +below him, and the tongue of the hound resounding in the hollow. He +turned sharply round, steering a middle course, and still aiming at the +fence. It was evident, from the cheers of his pursuers, that he was in +full view, and he heard them encouraging and directing the dog. + +Luke had gained the park palings, along which he rushed, in the vain +quest of some practicable point of egress, for the fence was higher in +this part of the park than elsewhere, owing to the inequality of the +ground. He had cast away his gun as useless. But even without that +incumbrance, he dared not hazard the delay of climbing the palings. At +this juncture a deep breathing was heard close behind him. He threw a +glance over his shoulder. Within a few yards was a ferocious bloodhound, +with whose savage nature Luke was well acquainted; the breed, some of +which he had already seen, having been maintained at the hall ever since +the days of grim old Sir Ranulph. The eyes of the hound were glaring, +blood-red; his tongue was hanging out, and a row of keen white fangs was +displayed, like the teeth of a shark. There was a growl--a leap--and the +dog was close upon him. + +Luke's courage was undoubted. But his heart failed him as he heard the +roar of the remorseless brute, and felt that he could not avoid an +encounter with the animal. His resolution was instantly taken: he +stopped short with such suddenness, that the dog, when in the act of +springing, flew past him with great violence, and the time, momentary as +it was, occupied by the animal in recovering himself, enabled Luke to +drop on his knee, and to place one arm, like a buckler, before his face, +while he held the other in readiness to grapple his adversary. Uttering +a fierce yell, the hound returned to the charge, darting at Luke, who +received the assault without flinching; and in spite of a severe +laceration of the arm, he seized his foe by the throat, and hurling him +upon the ground, jumped with all his force upon his belly. There was a +yell of agony--the contest was ended, and Luke was at liberty to pursue +his flight unmolested. + +Brief as had been the interval required for this combat, it had been +sufficient to bring the pursuers within sight of the fugitive. Hugh +Badger, who from the acclivity had witnessed the fate of his favorite, +with a loud oath discharged the contents of his gun at the head of its +destroyer. It was fortunate for Luke that at this instant he stumbled +over the root of a tree--the shot rattled in the leaves as he fell, and +the keeper, concluding that he had at least winged his bird, descended +more leisurely towards him. As he lay upon the ground, Luke felt that he +was wounded; whether by the teeth of the dog, from a stray shot, or from +bruises inflicted by the fall, he could not determine. But, smarting +with pain, he resolved to wreak his vengeance upon the first person who +approached him. He vowed not to be taken with life--to strangle any who +should lay hands upon him. At that moment he felt a pressure at his +breast. It was the dead hand of his mother! + +Luke shuddered. The fire of revenge was quenched. He mentally cancelled +his rash oath; yet he could not bring himself to surrender at +discretion, and without further effort. The keeper and his assistants +were approaching the spot where he lay, and searching for his body. Hugh +Badger was foremost, and within a yard of him. + +"Confound the rascal!" cried Hugh, "he's not half killed; he seems to +breathe." + +The words were scarcely out of his mouth ere the speaker was dashed +backwards, and lay sprawling upon the sod. Suddenly and unexpectedly, as +an Indian chief might rush upon his foes, Luke arose, dashing himself +with great violence against Hugh, who happened to stand in his way, and +before the startled assistants, who were either too much taken by +surprise, or unwilling to draw a trigger, could in any way lay hands +upon him, exerting all the remarkable activity which he possessed, he +caught hold of a projecting branch of a tree, and swung himself, at a +single bound, fairly over the paling. + +Hugh Badger was shortly on his legs, swearing lustily at his defeat. +Directing his men to skirt alongside the fence, and make for a +particular part of the plantation which he named, and snatching a loaded +fowling-piece from one of them, he clambered over the pales, and guided +by the crashing branches and other sounds conveyed to his quick ear, he +was speedily upon Luke's track. + +The plantation through which the chase now took place was not, as might +be supposed, a continuation of the ring fence which Luke had originally +crossed on his entrance into the park, though girded by the same line of +paling, but, in reality, a close pheasant preserve, occupying the banks +of a ravine, which, after a deep and tortuous course, terminated in the +declivity heretofore described as forming the park boundary. Luke +plunged into the heart of this defile, fighting his way downwards, in +the direction of the brook. His progress was impeded by a thick +undergrowth of brier, and other matted vegetation, as well as by the +entanglements thrown in his way by the taller bushes of thorn and hazel, +the entwined and elastic branches of which, in their recoil, galled and +fretted him, by inflicting smart blows on his face and hands. This was a +hardship he usually little regarded. But, upon the present occasion, it +had the effect, by irritating his temper, of increasing the thirst of +vengeance raging in his bosom. + +Through the depths of the ravine welled the shallow stream before +alluded to, and Hugh Badger had no sooner reached its sedgy margin than +he lost all trace of the fugitive. He looked cautiously round, listened +intently, and inclined his ear to catch the faintest echo. All was +still: not a branch shook, not a leaf rustled. Hugh looked aghast. He +had made sure of getting a glimpse, and, perhaps, a stray shot at the +"poaching rascal," as he termed him, "in the open space, which he was +sure the fellow was aiming to reach; and now, all at once, he had +disappeared, like a will-o'-the-wisp or a boggart of the clough." +However, he could not be far off, and Hugh endeavored to obtain some +clue to guide him in his quest. He was not long in detecting recent +marks deeply indented in the mud on the opposite bank. Hugh leaped +thither at once. Further on, some rushes were trodden down, and there +were other indications of the course the fugitive had taken. + +"Hark forward!" shouted Hugh, in the joy of his heart at this discovery; +and, like a well-trained dog, he followed up with alacrity the scent he +had opened. The brook presented still fewer impediments to expedition +than the thick copse, and the keeper pursued the wanderings of the petty +current, occasionally splashing into the stream. Here and there, the +print of a foot on the soil satisfied him he was in the right path. At +length he became aware, from the crumbling soil, that the object of his +pursuit had scaled the bank, and he forthwith moderated his pace. +Halting, he perceived what he took to be a face peeping at him from +behind a knot of alders that overhung the steep and shelving bank +immediately above him. His gun was instantly at his shoulder. + +"Come down, you infernal deer-stealing scoundrel," cried Hugh, "or I'll +blow you to shivers." + +No answer was returned: expostulation was vain; and, fearful of placing +himself at a disadvantage if he attempted to scale the bank, Hugh fired +without further parley. The sharp discharge rolled in echoes down the +ravine, and a pheasant, scared by the sound, answered the challenge from +a neighboring tree. Hugh was an unerring marksman, and on this occasion +his aim had been steadily taken. The result was not precisely such as he +had anticipated. A fur cap, shaken by the shot from the bough on which +it hung, came rolling down the bank, proclaiming the _ruse_ that had +been practised upon the keeper. Little time was allowed him for +reflection. Before he could reload, he felt himself collared by the iron +arm of Luke. + +Hugh Badger was a man of great personal strength--square-set, +bandy-legged, with a prodigious width of chest, and a frame like a +Hercules, and, energetic as was Luke's assault, he maintained his ground +without flinching. The struggle was desperate. Luke was of slighter +proportion, though exceeding the keeper in stature by the head and +shoulders. This superiority availed him little. It was rather a +disadvantage in the conflict that ensued. The gripe fastened upon +Hugh's throat was like that of a clenched vice. But Luke might as well +have grappled the neck of a bull, as that of the stalwart keeper. +Defending himself with his hobnail boots, with which he inflicted +several severe blows upon Luke's shins, and struggling vehemently, Hugh +succeeded in extricating himself from his throttling grasp; he then +closed with his foe, and they were locked together, like a couple of +bears at play. Straining, tugging, and practising every sleight and +stratagem coming within the scope of feet, knees, and thighs--now +tripping, now jerking, now advancing, now retreating, they continued the +strife, but all with doubtful result. Victory, at length, seemed to +declare itself in favor of the sturdy keeper. Aware of his opponent's +strength, it was Luke's chief endeavor to keep his lower limbs +disengaged, and to trust more to skill than force for ultimate success. +To prevent this was Hugh's grand object. Guarding himself against every +feint, he ultimately succeeded in firmly grappling his agile assailant. +Luke's spine was almost broken by the shock, when he suddenly gave way; +and, without losing his balance, drew his adversary forward, kicking his +right leg from under him. With a crash like that of an uprooted oak, +Hugh fell, with his foe upon him, into the bed of the rivulet. + +Not a word had been spoken during the conflict. A convulsive groan burst +from Hugh's hardy breast. His hand sought his girdle, but in vain; his +knife was gone. Gazing upwards, his dancing vision encountered the +glimmer of the blade. The weapon had dropped from its case in the fall. +Luke brandished it before his eyes. + +"Villain!" gasped Hugh, ineffectually struggling to free himself, "you +will not murder me?" And his efforts to release himself became +desperate. + +"No," answered Luke, flinging the uplifted knife into the brook. "I will +not do _that_, though thou hast twice aimed at my life to-night. But I +will silence thee, at all events." Saying which, he dealt the keeper a +blow on the head that terminated all further resistance on his part. + +Leaving the inert mass to choke up the current, with whose waters the +blood, oozing from the wound, began to commingle, Luke prepared to +depart. His perils were not yet past. Guided by the firing, the report +of which alarmed them, the keeper's assistants hastened in the direction +of the sound, presenting themselves directly in the path Luke was about +to take. He had either to retrace his steps, or face a double enemy. His +election was made at once. He turned and fled. + +For an instant the men tarried with their bleeding companion. They then +dragged him from the brook, and with loud oaths followed in pursuit. + +Threading, for a second time, the bosky labyrinth, Luke sought the +source of the stream. This was precisely the course his enemies would +have desired him to pursue; and when they beheld him take it, they felt +confident of his capture. + +The sides of the hollow became more and more abrupt as they advanced, +though they were less covered with brushwood. The fugitive made no +attempt to climb the bank, but still pressed forward. The road was +tortuous, and wound round a jutting point of rock. Now he was a fair +mark--no, he had swept swiftly by, and was out of sight before a gun +could be raised. They reached the same point. He was still before them, +but his race was nearly run. Steep, slippery rocks, shelving down to the +edges of a small, deep pool of water, the source of the stream, formed +an apparently insurmountable barrier in that direction. Rooted--Heaven +knows how!--in some reft or fissure of the rock, grew a wild ash, +throwing out a few boughs over the solitary pool; this was all the +support Luke could hope for, should he attempt to scale the rock. The +rock was sheer--the pool deep--yet still he hurried on. He reached the +muddy embankment; mounted its sides; and seemed to hesitate. The keepers +were now within a hundred yards of him. Both guns were discharged. And, +sudden as the reports, with a dead, splashless plunge, like a diving +otter, the fugitive dropped into the water. + +The pursuers were at the brink. They gazed at the pool. A few bubbles +floated upon its surface, and burst. The water was slightly discolored +with sand. No ruddier stain crimsoned the tide; no figure rested on the +naked rock; no hand clung to the motionless tree. + +"Devil take the rascal!" growled one; "I hope he harn't escaped us, +arter all." + +"Noa, noa, he be fast enough, never fear," rejoined the other; "sticking +like a snig at the bottom o' the pond; and, dang him! he deserves it, +for he's slipped out of our fingers like a snig often enough to-night. +But come, let's be stumping, and give poor Hugh Badger a helping hand." + +Whereupon they returned to the assistance of the wounded and discomfited +keeper. + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_THE HALL_ + + I am right against my house--seat of my ancestors. + + _Yorkshire Tragedy._ + + +Rookwood Place was a fine, old, irregular pile, of considerable size, +presenting a rich, picturesque outline, with its innumerable gable-ends, +its fantastical coigns, and tall crest of twisted chimneys. There was no +uniformity of style about the building, yet the general effect was +pleasing and beautiful. Its very irregularity constituted a charm. +Nothing except convenience had been consulted in its construction: +additions had from time to time been made to it, but everything dropped +into its proper place, and, without apparent effort or design, grew into +an ornament, and heightened the beauty of the whole. It was, in short, +one of those glorious manorial houses that sometimes unexpectedly greet +us in our wanderings, and gladden us like the discovery of a hidden +treasure. Some such ancestral hall we have occasionally encountered, in +unlooked-for quarters, in our native county of Lancaster, or in its +smiling sister shire; and never without feelings of intense delight, +rejoicing to behold the freshness of its antiquity, and the greenness of +its old age. For, be it observed in passing, a Cheshire or Lancashire +hall, time-honored though it be, with its often renovated black and +white squares, fancifully filled up with trefoils and quatrefoils, +rosettes, and other figures, seems to bear its years so lightly, that +its age, so far from detracting from its beauty, only lends it a grace; +and the same mansion, to all outward appearance, fresh and perfect as it +existed in the days of good Queen Bess, may be seen in admirable +preservation in the days of the youthful Victoria. Such is Bramall--such +Moreton, and many another we might instance; the former of these houses +may, perhaps, be instanced as the best specimen of its class,--and its +class in our opinion, _is_ the best--to be met with in Cheshire, +considered with reference either to the finished decoration of its +exterior, rich in the chequered coloring we have alluded to, preserved +with a care and neatness almost Dutch, or to the consistent taste +exhibited by its possessor to the restoration and maintenance of all its +original and truly national beauty within doors. As an illustration of +old English hospitality--that real, hearty hospitality for which the +squirearchy of this country was once so famous--Ah! why have they +bartered it for other customs less substantially _English_?--it may be +mentioned, that a road conducted the passenger directly through the +great hall of this house, literally "of entertainment," where, if he +listed, strong ale, and other refreshments, awaited his acceptance and +courted his stay. Well might old King, the Cheshire historian, in the +pride of his honest heart, exclaim, "_I know divers men, who are but +farmers, that in their housekeeping may compare with a lord or baron, +in some countries beyond the seas;--yea, although I named a higher +degree, I were able to justify it._" We have no such "golden farmers" in +these degenerate days! + +The mansion, was originally built by Sir Ranulph de Rookwood--or, as it +was then written, Rokewode--the first of the name, a stout Yorkist, who +flourished in the reign of Edward IV., and received the fair domain and +broad lands upon which the edifice was raised, from his sovereign, in +reward for good service; retiring thither in the decline of life, at the +close of the Wars of the Roses, to sequestrate himself from scenes of +strife, and to consult his spiritual weal in the erection and endowment +of the neighboring church. It was of mixed architecture, and combined +the peculiarities of each successive era. Retaining some of the sterner +features of earlier days, the period ere yet the embattled manor-house +peculiar to the reigns of the later Henrys had been merged into the +graceful and peaceable hall, the residence of the Rookwoods had early +anticipated the gentler characteristics of a later day, though it could +boast little of that exuberance of external ornament, luxuriance of +design, and prodigality of beauty, which, under the sway of the Virgin +Queen, distinguished the residence of the wealthier English landowner; +and rendered the hall of Elizabeth, properly so called, the pride and +boast of our domestic architecture. + +The site selected by Sir Ranulph for his habitation had been already +occupied by a vast fabric of oak, which he in part removed, though some +vestiges might still be traced of that ancient pile. A massive edifice +succeeded, with gate and tower, court and moat complete; substantial +enough, one would have thought, to have endured for centuries. But even +this ponderous structure grew into disuse, and Sir Ranulph's successors, +remodelling, repairing, almost rebuilding the whole mansion, in the end +so metamorphosed its aspect, that at last little of its original and +distinctive character remained. Still, as we said before, it was a fine +old house, though some changes had taken place for the worse, which +could not be readily pardoned by the eye of taste: as, for instance, +the deep embayed windows had dwindled into modernized casements, of +lighter construction; the wide porch, with its flight of steps leading +to the great hall of entrance, had yielded to a narrow door; and the +broad quadrangular court was succeeded by a gravel drive. Yet, despite +all these changes, the house of the Rookwoods, for an old house--and, +after all, what is like an old house?--was no undesirable or uncongenial +abode for any worshipful country gentleman "who had a great estate." + +The hall was situated near the base of a gently declining hill, +terminating a noble avenue of limes, and partially embosomed in an +immemorial wood of the same timber, which had given its name to the +family that dwelt amongst its rook-haunted shades. Descending the +avenue, at the point of access afforded by a road that wound down the +hill-side, towards a village distant about half a mile, as you advanced, +the eye was first arrested by a singular octagonal turret of brick, of +more recent construction than the house; and in all probability +occupying the place where the gateway stood of yore. This tower rose to +a height corresponding with the roof of the mansion; and was embellished +on the side facing the house with a flamingly gilt dial, peering, like +an impudent observer, at all that passed within doors. Two apartments, +which it contained, were appropriated to the house-porter. Despoiled of +its martial honors, the gateway still displayed the achievements of the +family--the rook and the fatal branch--carved in granite, which had +resisted the storms of two centuries, though stained green with moss, +and mapped over with lichens. To the left, overgrown with ivy, and +peeping from out a tuft of trees, appeared the hoary summit of a +dovecot, indicating the near neighborhood of an ancient barn, +contemporary with the earliest dwelling-house, and of a little world of +offices and outbuildings buried in the thickness of the foliage. To the +right was the garden--the pleasaunce of the place--formal, precise, +old-fashioned, artificial, yet exquisite!--for commend us to the +bygone, beautiful English garden--_really a garden_--not that mixture of +park, meadow, and wilderness[3], brought up to one's very +windows--which, since the days of the innovators, Kent, and his "bold +associates," Capability Brown and Co., has obtained so largely--this +_was_ a garden! There might be seen the stately terraces, such as +Watteau, and our own Wilson, in his earlier works, painted--the trim +alleys exhibiting all the triumphs of topiarian art-- + + _The sidelong walls + Of shaven yew; the holly's prickly arms, + Trimm'd into high arcades; the tonsile box, + Wove in mosaic mode of many a curl, + Around the figured carpet of the lawn;_[4] + +the gayest of parterres and greenest of lawns, with its admonitory +sun-dial, its marble basin in the centre, its fountain, and conched +water-god; the quaint summer-house, surmounted with its gilt vane; the +statue, glimmering from out its covert of leaves; the cool cascade, the +urns, the bowers, and a hundred luxuries besides, suggested and +contrived by Art to render Nature most enjoyable, and to enhance the +recreative delights of home-out-of-doors--for such a garden should be--, +with least sacrifice of indoor comfort and convenience. + + _When Epicurus to the world had taught, + That pleasure was the chiefest good; + --And was perhaps i' th' right, if rightly understood, + His life he to his doctrine brought-- + And in his garden's shade that sovereign pleasure sought._[5] + +All these delights might once have been enjoyed. But at the time of +which we write, this fair garden was for the most part a waste. +Ill-kept, and unregarded, the gay parterres were disfigured with weeds; +grass grew on the gravel walk; several of the urns were overthrown; the +hour upon the dial was untold; the fountain was choked up, and the +smooth-shaven lawn only rescued, it would seem, from the general fate, +that it might answer the purpose of a bowling-green, as the implements +of that game, scattered about, plainly testified. + +Diverging from the garden to the house, we have before remarked that the +more ancient and characteristic features of the place had been, for the +most part, destroyed; less by the hand of time than to suit the tastes +of different proprietors. This, however, was not so observable in the +eastern wing, which overlooked the garden. Here might be discerned many +indications of its antiquity. The strength and solidity of the walls, +which had not been, as elsewhere, masked with brickwork; the low, Tudor +arches; the mullioned bars of the windows--all attested its age. This +wing was occupied by an upper and lower gallery, communicating with +suites of chambers, for the most part deserted, excepting one or two, +which were used as dormitories; and another little room on the +ground-floor, with an oriel window opening upon the lawn, and commanding +the prospect beyond--a favorite resort of the late Sir Piers. The +interior was curious for his honeycomb ceiling, deeply moulded in +plaster, with the arms and alliances of the Rookwoods. In the centre was +the royal blazon of Elizabeth, who had once honored the hall with a +visit during a progress, and whose cipher E. R. was also displayed upon +the immense plate of iron which formed the fire-grate. + +To return, for a moment, to the garden, which we linger about as a bee +around a flower. Below the lawn there was another terrace, edged by a +low balustrade of stone, commanding a lovely view of park, water, and +woodland. High hanging-woods waved in the foreground, and an extensive +sweep of flat champaign country stretched out to meet a line of blue, +hazy hills bounding the distant horizon. + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_SIR REGINALD ROOKWOOD_ + + A king who changed his wives as easily as a woman changes her dress. + He threw aside the first, cut off the second's head, the third he + disemboweled: as for the fourth, he pardoned her, and simply turned + her out of doors, but to make matters even, cut off the head of + number five.--VICTOR HUGO: _Marie Tudor_. + + +From the house to its inhabitants the transition is natural. Besides the +connexion between them, there were many points of resemblance; many +family features in common; there was the same melancholy grandeur, the +same character of romance, the same fantastical display. Nor were the +secret passages, peculiar to the one, wanting to the history of the +other. Both had their mysteries. One blot there was in the otherwise +proud escutcheon of the Rookwoods, that dimmed its splendor, and made +pale its pretensions: their sun was eclipsed in blood from its rising to +its meridian; and so it seemed would be its setting. This foul reproach +attached to all the race; none escaped it. Traditional rumors were +handed down from father to son, throughout the county, and, like all +other rumors, had taken to themselves wings, and flown abroad; their +crimes became a by-word. How was it they escaped punishment? How came +they to evade the hand of justice? Proof was ever wanting; justice was +ever baffled. They were a stern and stiff-necked people, of indomitable +pride and resolution, with, for the most part, force of character +sufficient to enable them to breast difficulties and dangers that would +have overwhelmed ordinary individuals. No quality is so advantageous to +its possessor as firmness; and the determined energy of the Rookwoods +bore them harmless through a sea of trouble. Besides, they were +wealthy; lavish even to profusion; and gold will do much, if skilfully +administered. Yet, despite all this, a dark, ominous cloud settled over +their house, and men wondered when the vengeance of Heaven, so long +delayed, would fall and consume it. + +Possessed of considerable landed property, once extending over nearly +half the West Riding of Yorkshire, the family increased in power and +importance for an uninterrupted series of years, until the outbreak of +that intestine discord which ended in the civil wars, when the espousal +of the royalist party, with sword and substance, by Sir Ralph Rookwood, +the then lord of the mansion--a dissolute, depraved personage, who, +however, had been made a Knight of the Bath at the coronation of Charles +I.--, ended in his own destruction at Naseby, and the wreck of much of +his property; a loss which the gratitude of Charles II., on his +restoration, did not fail to make good to Sir Ralph's youthful heir, +Reginald. + +Sir Ralph Rookwood left two sons, Reginald and Alan. The fate of the +latter was buried in obscurity. It was even a mystery to his family. He +was, it was said, a youth of much promise, and of gentle manners; who, +having made an imprudent match, from jealousy, or some other motive, +deserted his wife, and fled his country. Various reasons were assigned +for his conduct. Amongst others, it was stated that the object of Alan's +jealous suspicions was his elder brother, Reginald; and that it was the +discovery of his wife's infidelity in this quarter which occasioned his +sudden disappearance with his infant daughter. Some said he died abroad. +Others, that he had appeared again for a brief space at the hall. But +all now concurred in a belief of his decease. Of his child nothing was +known. His inconstant wife, after enduring for some years the agonies of +remorse, abandoned by Sir Reginald, and neglected by her own relatives, +put an end to her existence by poison. This is all that could be +gathered of the story, or the misfortunes of Alan Rookwood. + +The young Sir Reginald had attended Charles, in the character of page, +during his exile; and if he could not requite the devotion of the son, +by absolutely reinstating the fallen fortunes of the father, the monarch +could at least accord him the fostering influence of his favor and +countenance; and bestow upon him certain lucrative situations in his +household, as an earnest of his good-will. And thus much he did. +Remarkable for his personal attractions in youth, it is not to be +wondered at that we should find the name of Reginald Rookwood recorded +in the scandalous chronicles of the day, as belonging to a cavalier of +infinite address and discretion, matchless wit, and marvellous +pleasantry; and eminent beyond his peers for his successes with some of +the most distinguished beauties who ornamented that brilliant and +voluptuous court. + +A career of elegant dissipation ended in matrimony. His first match was +unpropitious. Foiled in his attempts upon the chastity of a lady of +great beauty and high honor, he was rash enough to marry her; rash, we +say, for from that fatal hour all became as darkness; the curtain fell +upon the comedy of his life, to rise to tragic horrors. When, passion +subsided, repentance awoke, and he became anxious for deliverance from +the fetters he had so heedlessly imposed on himself, and on his +unfortunate dame. + +The hapless lady of Sir Reginald was a fair and fragile creature, +floating on the eddying current of existence, and hurried in destruction +as the summer gossamer is swept away by the rude breeze, and lost +forever. So beautiful, so gentle was she, that if, + + Sorrow had not made + Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self, + +it would have been difficult to say whether the charm of softness and +sweetness was more to be admired than her faultless personal +attractions. But when a tinge of melancholy came, saddening and shading +the once smooth and smiling brow; when tears dimmed the blue beauty of +those deep and tender eyes; when hot, hectic flushes supplied the place +of healthful bloom, and despair took possession of her heart, then was +it seen _what_ was the charm of Lady Rookwood, if charm that could be +called which was a saddening sight to see, and melted the beholder's +soul within him. All acknowledged, that exquisite as she had been +before, the sad, sweet lady was now more exquisite still. + +Seven moons had waned and flown--seven bitter, tearful moons--and each +day Lady Rookwood's situation claimed more soothing attention at the +hand of her lord. About this time his wife's brother, whom he hated, +returned from the Dutch wars. Struck with his sister's altered +appearance, he readily divined the cause; indeed, all tongues were eager +to proclaim it to him. Passionately attached to her, Lionel Vavasour +implored an explanation of the cause of his sister's griefs. The +bewildered lady answered evasively, attributing her woe-begone looks to +any other cause than her husband's cruelty; and pressing her brother, as +he valued her peace, her affection, never to allude to the subject +again. The fiery youth departed. He next sought out his brother-in-law, +and taxed him sharply with his inhumanity, adding threats to his +upbraidings. Sir Reginald listened silently and calmly. When the other +had finished, with a sarcastic obeisance, he replied: "Sir, I am much +beholden for the trouble you have taken in your sister's behalf. But +when she entrusted herself to my keeping, she relinquished, I conceive, +all claim on _your_ guardianship: however, I thank you for the trouble +you have taken; but, for your own sake, I would venture to caution you +against a repetition of interference like the present." + +"And I, sir, caution _you_. See that you give heed to my words, or, by +the heaven above us! I will enforce attention to them." + +"You will find me, sir, as prompt at all times to defend my conduct, as +I am unalterable in my purposes. Your sister is my wife. What more would +you have? Were she a harlot, you should have her back and welcome. The +tool is virtuous. Devise some scheme, and take her with you hence--so +you rid _me_ of her I am content." + +"Rookwood, you are a villain." And Vavasour spat upon his brother's +cheek. + +Sir Reginald's eyes blazed. His sword started from its scabbard. "Defend +yourself!" he exclaimed, furiously attacking Vavasour. Pass after pass +was exchanged. Fierce thrusts were made and parried. Feint and appeal, +the most desperate and dexterous, were resorted to. Their swords glanced +like lightning flashes. In the struggle, the blades became entangled. +There was a moment's cessation. Each glanced at the other with deadly, +inextinguishable hate. Both were admirable masters of the art of +defence. Both were so brimful of wrath as to be regardless of +consequences. They tore back their weapons. Vavasour's blade shivered. +He was at the mercy of his adversary--an adversary who knew no mercy. +Sir Reginald passed his rapier through his brother's body. The hilt +struck against his ribs. + +Sir Reginald's ire was kindled, not extinguished, by the deed he had +done. Like the tiger, he had tasted blood--like the tiger, he thirsted +for more. He sought his home. He was greeted by his wife. Terrified by +his looks, she yet summoned courage sufficient to approach him. She +embraced his arm--she clasped his hand. Sir Reginald smiled. His smile +was cutting as his dagger's edge. + +"What ails you, sweetheart?" said he. + +"I know not; your smile frightens me." + +"My smile frightens you--fool! be thankful that I frown not." + +"Oh! do not frown. Be gentle, my Reginald, as you were when first I knew +you. Smile not so coldly, but as you did then, that I may, for one +instant, dream you love me." + +"Silly wench! There--I _do_ smile." + +"That smile freezes me. Oh, Reginald, could you but know what I have +endured this morning, on your account. My brother Lionel has been here." + +"Indeed!" + +"Nay, look not so. He insisted on knowing the reason of my altered +appearance." + +"And no doubt you made him acquainted with the cause. You told him +_your_ version of the story." + +"Not a word, as I hope to live." + +"A lie!" + +"By my truth, no." + +"A lie, I say. He avouched it to me himself." + +"Impossible! He could not--would not disobey me." + +Sir Reginald laughed bitterly. + +"He would not, I am sure, give utterance to any scandal," continued Lady +Rookwood. "You say this but to try me, do you not?--ha! what is this? +Your hand is bloody. You have not harmed him? Whose blood is this?" + +"Your brother spat upon my check. I have washed out the stain," replied +Sir Reginald, coldly. + +"Then it _is_ his blood!" shrieked Lady Rookwood, pressing her hand +shuddering before her eyes. "Is he dead?" + +Sir Reginald turned away. + +"Stay," she cried, exerting her feeble strength to retain him, and +becoming white as ashes, "abide and hear me. You have killed me, I feel, +by your cruelty. I am sinking fast--dying. I, who loved you, only you; +yes, one besides--my brother, and you have slain _him_. Your hands are +dripping in his blood, and I have kissed them--have clasped them! And +now," continued she, with an energy that shook Sir Reginald, "I hate +you--I renounce you--forever! May my dying words ring in your ears on +your death-bed, for that hour _will_ come. You cannot shun _that_. Then +think of _him_! think of _me_!" + +"Away!" interrupted Sir Reginald, endeavoring to shake her off. + +"I will _not_ away! I will cling to you--will curse you. My unborn child +shall live to curse you--to requite you--to visit my wrongs on you and +yours. Weak as I am, you shall not cast me off. You shall learn to fear +even _me_." + +"I fear nothing living, much less a frantic woman." + +"Fear the _dead_, then." + +There was a struggle--a blow--and the wretched lady sank, shrieking, +upon the floor. Convulsions seized her. A mother's pains succeeded +fierce and fast. She spoke no more, but died within the hour, giving +birth to a female child. + +Eleanor Rookwood became her father's idol--her father's bane. All the +love he had to bestow was centred in her. She returned it not. She fled +from his caresses. With all her mother's beauty, she had all her +father's pride. Sir Reginald's every thought was for his daughter--for +her aggrandizement. In vain. She seemed only to endure him, and while +his affection waxed stronger, and entwined itself round her alone, she +withered beneath his embraces as the shrub withers in the clasping folds +of the parasite plant. + +She grew towards womanhood. Suitors thronged around her--gentle and +noble ones. Sir Reginald watched them with a jealous eye. He was +wealthy, powerful, high in royal favor; and could make his own election. +He did so. For the first time, Eleanor promised obedience to his wishes. +They accorded with her own humor. The day was appointed. It came. But +with it came not the bride. She had fled, with the humblest and the +meanest of the pretenders to her hand--with one upon whom Sir Reginald +supposed she had not deigned to cast her eyes. He endeavored to forget +her, and, to all outward seeming, was successful in the effort. But he +felt that the curse was upon him; the undying flame scorched his heart. + +Once, and once only, they met again, in France, whither she had +wandered. It was a dread encounter--terrible to both; but most so to +Sir Reginald. He spoke not of her afterwards. + +Shortly after the death of his first wife, Sir Reginald had made +proposals to a dowager of distinction, with a handsome jointure, one of +his early attachments, and was, without scruple, accepted. The power of +the family might then be said to be at its zenith; and but for certain +untoward circumstances, and the growing influence of his enemies, Sir +Reginald would have been elevated to the peerage. Like most reformed +spend-thrifts, he had become proportionately avaricious, and his mind +seemed engrossed in accumulating wealth. In the meantime, his second +wife followed her predecessor, dying, it was said, of vexation and +disappointment. + +The propensity to matrimony, always a distinguishing characteristic of +the Rookwoods, largely displayed itself in Sir Reginald. Another dame +followed--equally rich, younger, and far more beautiful than her +immediate predecessor. She was a prodigious flirt, and soon set her +husband at defiance. Sir Reginald did not condescend to expostulate. It +was not his way. He effectually prevented any recurrence of her +indiscretions. She was removed, and with her expired Sir Reginald's +waning popularity. So strong was the expression of odium against him, +that he thought it prudent to retire to his mansion, in the country, and +there altogether seclude himself. One anomaly in Sir Reginald's +otherwise utterly selfish character was uncompromising devotion to the +house of Stuart; and shortly after the abdication of James II., he +followed that monarch to Saint Germain, having previously mixed largely +in secret political intrigues; and only returned from the French court +to lay his bones with those of his ancestry, in the family vault at +Rookwood. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI_ + +_SIR PIERS ROOKWOOD_ + + My old master kept a good house, and twenty or thirty tall + sword-and-buckler men about him; and in faith his son differs not + much; he will have metal too; though he has no store of cutler's + blades, he will have plenty of vintners' pots. His father kept a + good house for honest men, his tenants that brought him in part; and + his son keeps a bad house with knaves that help to consume all: 'tis + but the change of time: why should any man repine at it? Crickets, + good, loving, and lucky worms, were wont to feed, sing, and rejoice + in the father's chimney; and now carrion crows build in the son's + kitchen. + + WILKINS: _Miseries of Enforced Marriage_. + + +Sir Reginald died, leaving issue three children: a daughter, the +before-mentioned Eleanor--who, entirely discountenanced by the family, +had been seemingly forgotten by all but her father--, and two sons by +his third wife. Reginald, the eldest, whose military taste had early +procured him the command of a company of horse, and whose politics did +not coalesce with those of his sire, fell, during his father's lifetime, +at Killiecrankie, under the banners of William. Piers, therefore, the +second son, succeeded to the title. + +A very different character, in many respects, from his father and +brother, holding in supreme dislike courts and courtiers, party warfare, +political intrigue, and all the subtleties of Jesuitical diplomacy, +neither having any inordinate relish for camps or campaigns, Sir Piers +Rookwood yet displayed in early life one family propensity, viz., +unremitting devotion to the sex. Among his other mistresses was the +unfortunate Susan Bradley, in whom by some he was supposed to have been +clandestinely united. In early youth, as has been stated, Sir Piers +professed the faith of Rome, but shortly after the death of his +beautiful mistress--or wife, as it might be--, having quarreled with his +father's confessor, Checkley, he publicly abjured his heresies. Sir +Piers subsequently allied himself to Maud, only daughter of Sir Thomas +D'Aubeny, the last of a line as proud and intolerant as his own. The +tables were then turned. Lady Rookwood usurped sovereign sway over her +lord and Sir Piers, a cipher in his own house, scarce master of himself, +much less of his dame, endured an existence so miserable, that he was +often heard to regret, in his cups, that he had not inherited, with the +estate of his forefathers, the family secret of shaking off the +matrimonial yoke, when found to press too hardly. + +At the onset, Sir Piers struggled hard to burst his bondage. But in +vain--he was fast fettered; and only bruised himself, like the caged +lark, against the bars of his prison-house. Abandoning all further +effort at emancipation, he gave himself up to the usual resource of a +weak mind, debauchery; and drank so deeply to drown his cares, that, in +the end, his hale constitution yielded to his excesses. It was even +said, that remorse at his abandonment of the faith of his fathers had +some share in his misery; and that his old spiritual, and if report +spoke truly, sinful adviser, Father Checkley, had visited him secretly +at the hall. Sir Piers was observed to shudder whenever the priest's +name was mentioned. + +Sir Piers Rookwood was a good-humored man in the main, had little of the +old family leaven about him, and was esteemed by his associates. Of +late, however, his temper became soured, and his friends deserted him; +for, between his domestic annoyances, remorseful feelings, and the +inroads already made upon his constitution by constant inebriety, he +grew so desperate and insane in his revels, and committed such fearful +extravagances, that even his boon companions shrank from his orgies. +Fearful were the scenes between him and Lady Rookwood upon these +occasions--appalling to the witnesses, dreadful to themselves. And it +was, perhaps, their frequent recurrence, that, more than anything else, +banished all decent society from the hall. + +At the time of Sir Piers's decease, which brings us down to the date of +our story, his son and successor, Ranulph, was absent on his travels. +Shortly after the completion of his academical education, he had +departed to make the tour of the Continent, and had been absent rather +better than a year. He had quitted his father in displeasure, and was +destined never again to see his face while living. The last intelligence +received of young Rookwood was from Bordeaux, whence it was thought he +had departed for the Pyrenees. A special messenger had been despatched +in search of him, with tidings of the melancholy event. But, as it was +deemed improbable by Lady Rookwood that her son could return within any +reasonable space, she gave directions for the accomplishment of the +funeral rites of her husband on the sixth night after his decease--it +being the custom of the Rookwoods ever to inter their dead at +midnight,--intrusting their solemnization entirely to the care of one of +Sir Piers's hangers-on--Dr. Titus Tyrconnel,--for which she was greatly +scandalized in the neighborhood. + +Ranulph Rookwood was a youth of goodly promise. The stock from which he +sprang would on neither side warrant such conclusion. But it sometimes +happens that from the darkest elements are compounded the brightest and +subtlest substances; and so it occurred in this instance. Fair, frank, +and free--generous, open, unsuspicious--he seemed the very opposite of +all his race--their antagonizing principle. Capriciously indulgent, his +father had allowed him ample means, neither curbing nor restraining his +expenditure; acceding at one moment to every inclination, and the next +irresolutely opposing it. It was impossible, therefore, for him, in such +a state of things, to act decidedly, without incurring his father's +displeasure; and the only measure he resolved upon, which was to absent +himself for a time, was conjectured to have brought about the result he +had endeavored to avoid. Other reasons, however, there were, which +secretly influenced him, which it will be our business in due time to +detail. + + + + +_CHAPTER VII_ + +_THE RETURN_ + + _Flam._ How croaks the raven? + Is our good Duchess dead? + + _Lod._ Dead. + + WEBSTER. + + +The time of the sad ceremonial drew nigh. The hurrying of the domestics +to and fro; the multifarious arrangements for the night; the +distribution of the melancholy trappings, and the discussion of the +"funeral-baked meats," furnished abundant occupation within doors. +Without, there was a constant stream of the tenantry, thronging down the +avenue, mixed with an occasional horseman, once or twice intercepted by +a large lumbering carriage, bringing friends of the deceased, some +really anxious to pay the last tribute of regard, but the majority +attracted by the anticipated spectacle of a funeral by torchlight. There +were others, indeed, to whom it was not matter of choice; who were +compelled, by a vassal tenure of their lands, held of the house of +Rookwood, to lend a shoulder to the coffin, and a hand to the torch, on +the burial of its lord. Of these there was a plentiful muster collected +in the hall; they were to be marshalled by Peter Bradley, who was deemed +to be well skilled in the proceedings, having been present at two +solemnities of the kind. That mysterious personage, however, had not +made his appearance--to the great dismay of the assemblage. Scouts were +sent in search of him, but they returned with the intelligence that the +door of his habitation was fastened, and its inmate apparently absent. +No other tidings of the truant sexton could be obtained. + +It was a sultry August evening. No breeze was stirring in the garden; no +cool dews refreshed the parched and heated earth; yet from the +languishing flowers rich sweets exhaled. The plash of a fountain fell +pleasantly upon the ear, conveying in its sound a sense of freshness to +the fervid air; while deep and drowsy murmurs hummed heavily beneath the +trees, making the twilight slumberously musical. The westering sun, +which filled the atmosphere with flame throughout the day, was now +wildly setting; and, as he sank behind the hall, its varied and +picturesque tracery became each instant more darkly and distinctly +defined against the crimson sky. + +At this juncture a little gate, communicating with the chase, was thrown +open, and a young man entered the garden, passing through the shrubbery, +and hurrying rapidly forward till he arrived at a vista opening upon the +house. The spot at which the stranger halted was marked by a little +basin, scantily supplied with water, streaming from a lion's kingly +jaws. His dress was travel-soiled, and dusty; and his whole appearance +betokened great exhaustion from heat and fatigue. Seating himself upon +an adjoining bench, he threw off his riding-cap, and unclasped his +collar, displaying a finely-turned head and neck; and a countenance +which, besides its beauty, had that rare nobility of feature which +seldom falls to the lot of the aristocrat, but is never seen in one of +an inferior order. A restless disquietude of manner showed that he was +suffering from over-excitement of mind, as well as from bodily exertion. +His look was wild and hurried; his black ringlets were dashed heedlessly +over a pallid, lofty brow, upon which care was prematurely written; +while his large melancholy eyes were bent, with a look almost of agony, +upon the house before him. + +After a short pause, and as if struggling against violent emotions, and +some overwhelming remembrance, the youth arose, and plunged his hand +into the basin, applying the moist element to his burning brow. +Apparently becoming more calm, he bent his steps towards the hall, when +two figures, suddenly issuing from an adjoining copse, arrested his +progress; neither saw him. Muttering a hurried farewell, one of the +figures disappeared within the shrubbery, and the other, confronting the +stranger, displayed the harsh features and gaunt form of Peter Bradley. +Had Peter encountered the dead Sir Piers in corporeal form, he could not +have manifested more surprise than he exhibited, for an instant or two, +as he shrunk back from the stranger's path. + + + + +_CHAPTER VIII_ + +_AN IRISH ADVENTURER_ + + _Scapin._ A most outrageous, roaring fellow, with a swelled red face + inflamed with brandy.--_Cheats of Scapin._ + + +An hour or two prior to the incident just narrated, in a small, cosy +apartment of the hall, nominally devoted to justiciary business by its +late owner, but, in reality, used as a sanctum, snuggery, or +smoking-room, a singular trio were assembled, fraught with the ulterior +purpose of attending the obsequies of their deceased patron and friend, +though immediately occupied in the discussion of a magnum of excellent +claret, the bouquet of which perfumed the air, like the fragrance of a +bed of violets. + +This little room had been poor Sir Piers's favorite retreat. It was, in +fact, the only room in the house that he could call his own; and thither +would he often, with pipe and punch, beguile the flagging hours, secure +from interruption. A snug, old-fashioned apartment it was; wainscoted +with rich black oak; with a fine old cabinet of the same material, and a +line or two of crazy, worm-eaten bookshelves, laden with sundry dusty, +unconsulted law tomes, and a light sprinkling of the elder divines, +equally neglected. The only book, indeed, Sir Piers ever read, was the +"Anatomie of Melancholy;" and he merely studied Burton because the +quaint, racy style of the learned old hypochondriac suited his humor at +seasons, and gave a zest to his sorrows, such as the olives lent to his +wine. + +Four portraits adorned the walls: those of Sir Reginald Rookwood and his +wives. The ladies were attired in the flowing drapery of Charles the +Second's day, the snow of their radiant bosoms being somewhat sullied by +over-exposure, and the vermeil tinting of their cheeks darkened by the +fumes of tobacco. There was a shepherdess, with her taper crook, whose +large, languishing eyes, ripe pouting lips, ready to melt into kisses, +and air of voluptuous abandonment, scarcely suited the innocent +simplicity of her costume. She was portrayed tending a flock of downy +sheep, with azure ribbons round their necks, accompanied by one of those +invaluable little dogs whose length of ear and silkiness of skin evinced +him perfect in his breeding, but whose large-eyed indifference to his +charge proved him to be as much out of character with his situation as +the refined and luxuriant charms of his mistress were out of keeping +with her artless attire. This was Sir Piers's mother, the third wife, a +beautiful woman, answering to the notion of one who had been somewhat of +a flirt in her day. Next to her was a magnificent dame, with the throat +and arm of a Juno, and a superb bust--the bust was then what the bustle +is now--a paramount attraction; whether the modification be an +improvement, we leave to the consideration of the lovers of the +beautiful--this was the dowager. Lastly, there was the lovely and +ill-fated Eleanor. Every gentle grace belonging to this unfortunate lady +had been stamped in undying beauty on the canvas by the hand of Lely, +breathing a spell on the picture, almost as powerful as that which had +dwelt around the exquisite original. Over the high carved mantelpiece +was suspended the portrait of Sir Reginald. It had been painted in +early youth; the features were beautiful, disdainful,--with a fierceness +breaking through the courtly air. The eyes were very fine, black as +midnight, and piercing as those of Cæsar Borgia, as seen in Raphael's +wonderful picture in the Borghese Palace at Rome. They seemed to +fascinate the gazer--to rivet his glances--to follow him whithersoever +he went--and to search into his soul, as did the dark orbs of Sir +Reginald in his lifetime. It was the work likewise of Lely, and had all +the fidelity and graceful refinement of that great master; nor was the +haughty countenance of Sir Reginald unworthy the patrician painter. + +No portrait of Sir Piers was to be met with. But in lieu thereof, +depending from a pair of buck's horns, hung the worthy knight's stained +scarlet coat--the same in which he had ridden forth, with the intent to +hunt, on the eventful occasion detailed by Peter Bradley,--his velvet +cap, his buck-handled whip, and the residue of his equipment for the +chase. This attire was reviewed with melancholy interest and unaffected +emotion by the company, as reminding them forcibly of the departed, of +which it seemed a portion. + +The party consisted of the vicar of Rookwood, Dr. Polycarp Small; Dr. +Titus Tyrconnel, an emigrant, and empirical professor of medicine, from +the sister isle, whose convivial habits had first introduced him to the +hall, and afterwards retained him there; and Mr. Codicil Coates, clerk +of the peace, attorney-at-law, bailiff, and receiver. We were wrong in +saying that Tyrconnel was retained. He was an impudent, intrusive +fellow, whom, having once gained a footing in the house, it was +impossible to dislodge. He cared for no insult; perceived no slight; and +professed, in her presence, the profoundest respect for Lady Rookwood: +in short, he was ever ready to do anything but depart. + +Sir Piers was one of those people who cannot dine alone. He disliked a +solitary repast almost as much as a _tête-à-tête_ with his lady. He +would have been recognized at once as the true Amphitryon, had any one +been hardy enough to play the part of Jupiter. Ever ready to give a +dinner, he found a difficulty arise, not usually experienced on such +occasions--there was no one upon whom to bestow it. He had the best of +wine; kept an excellent table; was himself no niggard host; but his own +merits, and those of his _cuisine_, were forgotten in the invariable +_pendant_ to the feast; and the best of wine lost its flavor when the +last bottle found its way to the guest's head. Dine alone Sir Piers +would not. And as his old friends forsook him, he plunged lower in his +search of society; collecting within his house a class of persons whom +no one would have expected to meet at the hall, nor even its owner have +chosen for his companions, had any choice remained to him. He did not +endure this state of things without much outward show of discontent. +"Anything for a quiet life," was his constant saying; and, like the +generality of people with whom those words form a favorite maxim, he led +the most uneasy life imaginable. Endurance, to excite commiseration, +must be uncomplaining--an axiom the aggrieved of the gentle sex should +remember. Sir Piers endured, but he grumbled lustily, and was on all +hands voted a bore; domestic grievances, especially if the husband be +the plaintiff, being the most intolerable of all mentionable miseries. +No wonder that his friends deserted him; still there was Titus +Tyrconnel; his ears and lips were ever open to pathos and to punch; so +Titus kept his station. Immediately after her husband's demise, it had +been Lady Rookwood's intention to clear the house of all the "vermin," +so she expressed herself, that had so long infested it; and forcibly to +eject Titus, and one or two other intruders of the same class. But in +consequence of certain hints received from Mr. Coates, who represented +the absolute necessity of complying with Sir Piers's testamentary +instructions, which were particular in that respect, she thought proper +to defer her intentions until after the ceremonial of interment should +be completed, and, in the mean time, strange to say, committed its +arrangement to Titus Tyrconnel; who, ever ready to accommodate, +accepted, nothing loth, the charge, and acquitted himself admirably well +in his undertaking: especially, as he said, "in the aiting and drinking +department--the most essential part of it all." He kept open house--open +dining-room--open cellar; resolved that his patron's funeral should +emulate as much as possible an Irish burial on a grand scale, "the +finest sight," in his opinion, "in the whole world." + +Inflated with the importance of his office, inflamed with heat, sat +Titus, like a "robustious periwig-pated" alderman after a civic feast. +The natural rubicundity of his countenance was darkened to a deep purple +tint, like that of a full-blown peony, while his ludicrous dignity was +augmented by a shining suit of sables, in which his portly person was +invested. + +The first magnum had been discussed in solemn silence; the cloud, +however, which hung over the conclave, disappeared under the genial +influence of "another and a better" bottle, and gave place to a denser +vapor, occasioned by the introduction of the pipe and its +accompaniments. + +Ensconced in a comfortable old chair--it is not every old chair that +_is_ comfortable,--with pipe in mouth, and in full unbuttoned ease, his +bushy cauliflower wig laid aside, by reason of the heat, reposed Dr. +Small. Small, indeed, was somewhat of a misnomer, as applied to the +worthy doctor, who, besides being no diminutive specimen of his kind, +entertained no insignificant opinion of himself. His height was +certainly not remarkable; but his width of shoulder--his sesquipedality +of stomach--and obesity of calf--these were unique! Of his origin we +know nothing; but presume he must, in some way or other, have been +connected with the numerous family of "the Smalls," who, according to +Christopher North, form the predominant portion of mankind. In +appearance, the doctor was short-necked and puffy, with a sodden, pasty +face, wherein were set eyes whose obliquity of vision was, in some +measure, redeemed by their expression of humor. He was accounted a man +of parts and erudition, and had obtained high honors at his university. +Rigidly orthodox, he abominated the very names of Papists and Jacobites, +amongst which heretical herd he classed his companion, Mr. Titus +Tyrconnel--Ireland being with him synonymous with superstition and +Catholicism--and every Irishman rebellious and schismatical. On this +head he was inclined to be disputatious. His prejudices did not prevent +him from passing the claret, nor from laughing, as heartily as a +plethoric asthma and sense of the decorum due to the occasion would +permit, at the quips and quirks of the Irishman, who, he admitted, +notwithstanding his heresies, was a pleasant fellow in the main. And +when, in addition to the flattery, a pipe had been insinuated by the +officious Titus, at the precise moment that Small yearned for his +afternoon's solace, yet scrupled to ask for it; when the door had been +made fast, and the first whiff exhaled, all his misgivings vanished, and +he surrendered himself to the soft seduction. In this Elysian state we +find him. + +"Ah! you may say that, Dr. Small," said Titus, in answer to some +observation of the vicar, "that's a most original apothegm. We all of us +hould our lives by a thrid. Och! many's the sudden finale I have seen. +Many's the fine fellow's heels tripped up unawares, when least expected. +Death hangs over our heads by a single hair, as your reverence says, +precisely like the sword of Dan Maclise,[6] the flatterer of Dinnish +what-do-you-call-him, ready to fall at a moment's notice, or no notice +at all--eh?--Mr. Coates. And that brings me back again to Sir +Piers--poor gentleman--ah! we sha'n't soon see the like of him again!" + +"Poor Sir Piers!" said Mr. Coates, a small man, in a scratch wig, with a +face red and round as an apple, and almost as diminutive. "It is to be +regretted that his over-conviviality should so much have hastened his +lamented demise." + +"Conviviality!" replied Titus; "no such thing--it was +apoplexy--extravasation of _sarum_." + +"Extra vase-ation of rum and water, you mean," replied Coates, who, like +all his tribe, rejoiced in a quibble. + +"The squire's ailment," continued Titus, "was a sanguineous effusion, as +we call it--positive determination of blood to the head, occasioned by a +low way he got into, just before his attack--a confirmed case of +hypochondriasis, as that _ould_ book Sir Piers was so fond of terms the +blue devils. He neglected the bottle, which, in a man who has been a +hard drinker all his life, is a bad sign. The lowering system never +answers--never. Doctor, I'll just trouble you"--for Small, in a fit of +absence, had omitted to pass the bottle, though not to help himself. +"Had he stuck to _this_"--holding up a glass, ruby bright--"the elixir +vitæ--the grand panacea--he might have been hale and hearty at this +present moment, and as well as any of us. But he wouldn't be advised. To +my thinking, as that was the case, he'd have been all the better for a +little of your reverence's sperretual advice; and his conscience having +been relieved by confession and absolution, he might have opened a fresh +account with an aisy heart and clane breast." + +"I trust, sir," said Small, gravely withdrawing his pipe from his lips, +"that Sir Piers Rookwood addressed himself to a higher source than a +sinning creature of clay like himself for remission of his sins; but, if +there was any load of secret guilt that might have weighed heavy upon +his conscience, it is to be regretted that he refused the last offices +of the church, and died incommunicate. I was denied all admittance to +his chamber." + +"Exactly my case," said Mr. Coates, pettishly. "I was refused entrance, +though my business was of the utmost importance--certain +dispositions--special bequests--matter connected with his sister--for +though the estate is entailed, yet still there are charges--you +understand me--very strange to refuse to see _me_. Some people may +regret it--may live to regret it, I say--that's all. I've just sent up +a package to Lady Rookwood, which was not to be delivered till after Sir +Piers's death. Odd circumstance that--been in my custody a long +while--some reason to think Sir Piers meant to alter his will--ought to +have seen _me_--sad neglect!" + +"More's the pity. But it was none of poor Sir Piers's doing!" replied +Titus; "he had no will of his own, poor fellow, during his life, and the +devil a will was he likely to have after his death. It was all Lady +Rookwood's doing," added he, in a whisper. "I, his medical adviser and +confidential friend, was ordered out of the room; and, although I knew +it was as much as his life was worth to leave him for a moment in that +state, I was forced to comply: and, would you believe it, as I left the +room, I heard high words. Yes, doctor, as I hope to be saved, words of +anger from her at that awful juncture." + +The latter part of this speech was uttered in a low tone, and very +mysterious manner. The speakers drew so closely together, that the bowls +of their pipes formed a common centre, whence the stems radiated. A +momentary silence ensued, during which each man puffed for very life. +Small next knocked the ashes from his tube, and began to replenish it, +coughing significantly. Mr. Coates expelled a thin, curling stream of +vapor from a minute orifice in the corner of his almost invisible mouth, +and arched his eyebrows in a singular manner, as if he dared not trust +the expression of his thoughts to any other feature. Titus shook his +huge head, and, upon the strength of a bumper which he swallowed, +mustered resolution enough to unburden his bosom. + +"By my sowl," said he, mysteriously, "I've seen enough lately to +frighten any quiet gentleman out of his senses. I'll not get a wink of +sleep, I fear, for a week to come. There must have been something +dreadful upon Sir Piers's mind; sure--nay, there's no use in mincing the +matter with _you_--in a word, then, some crime too deep to be divulged." + +"Crime!" echoed Coates and Small, in a breath. + +"Ay, crime!" repeated Titus. "Whist! not so loud, lest any one should +overhear us. Poor Sir Piers, he's dead now. I'm sure you both loved him +as I did, and pity and pardon him if he was guilty; for certain am I +that no soul ever took its flight more heavily laden than did that of +our poor friend. Och! it was a terrible ending. But you shall hear _how_ +he died, and judge for yourselves. When I returned to his room after +Lady Rookwood's departure, I found him quite delirious. I knew death was +not far off then. One minute he was in the chase, cheering on the +hounds. 'Halloo! tallyho!' cried he: 'who clears that fence?--who swims +that stream?' The next, he was drinking, carousing, and hurrahing, at +the head of his table. 'Hip! hip! hip!'--as mad, and wild, and frantic +as ever he used to be when wine had got the better of him; and then all +of a sudden, in the midst of his shouting, he stopped, exclaiming, +'What! here again?--who let her in?--the door is fast--I locked it +myself. Devil! why did you open it?--you have betrayed me--she will +poison me--and I cannot resist. Ha! another! Who--who is that?--her face +is white--her hair hangs about her shoulders. Is she alive again? Susan! +Susan! why that look? You loved me well--too well. You will not drag me +to perdition! You will not appear against me! No, no, no--it is not in +your nature--you whom I doted on, whom I loved--whom I--but I +repented--I sorrowed--I prayed--prayed! Oh! oh! no prayers would avail. +Pray for me, Susan--for ever! _Your_ intercession may avail. It is not +too late. I will do justice to all. Bring me pen and ink--paper--I will +confess--_he_ shall have all. Where is my sister? I would speak with +her--would tell her--tell her. Call Alan Rookwood--I shall die before I +can tell it. Come hither,' said he to me. 'There is a dark, dreadful +secret on my mind--it must forth. Tell my sister--no, my senses +swim--Susan is near me--fury in her eyes--avenging fury--keep her off. +What is this white mass in my arms? what do I hold? is it the corpse by +my side, as it lay that long, long night? It is--it is. Cold, stiff, +stirless as then. White--horribly white--as when the moon, that would +not set, showed all its ghastliness. Ah! it moves, embraces me, stifles, +suffocates me. Help! remove the pillow. I cannot breathe--I choke--oh!' +And now I am coming to the strangest part of my story--and, strange as +it may sound, every word is as true as Gospel." + +"Ahem!" coughed Small. + +"Well, at this moment--this terrible moment--what should I hear but a +tap against the wainscot. Holy Virgin! how it startled me. My heart +leapt to my mouth in an instant, and then went thump, thump, against my +ribs. But I said nothing, though you may be sure I kept my ears wide +open--and then presently I heard the tap repeated somewhat louder, and +shortly afterwards a third--I should still have said nothing, but Sir +Piers heard the knock, and raised himself at the summons, as if it had +been the last trumpet. 'Come in,' cried he, in a dying voice; and Heaven +forgive me if I confess that I expected a certain person, whose company +one would rather dispense with upon such an occasion, to step in. +However, though it wasn't the ould gentleman, it was somebody near akin +to him; for a door I had never seen, and never even dreamed of, opened +in the wall, and in stepped Peter Bradley--ay, you may well stare, +gentlemen; but it was Peter, looking as stiff as a crowbar, and as blue +as a mattock. Well, he walked straight up to the bed of the dying man, +and bent his great, diabolical gray eyes upon him, laughing all the +while--yes, laughing--you know the cursed grin he has. To proceed. 'You +have called me,' said he to Sir Piers; 'I am here. What would you with +me?'--'We are not alone,' groaned the dying man. 'Leave us, Mr. +Tyrconnel--leave me for five minutes--only five, mark me.'--'I'll go,' +thinks I, 'but I shall never see you again alive.' And true enough it +was--I never did see him again with breath in his body. Without more +ado, I left him, and I had scarcely reached the corridor when I heard +the door bolted behind me. I then stopped to listen: and I'm sure you'll +not blame me when I say I clapped my eye to the keyhole; for I suspected +something wrong. But, Heaven save us! that crafty gravedigger had taken +his precautions too well. I could neither see nor hear anything, except +after a few minutes, a wild unearthly screech. And then the door was +thrown open, and I, not expecting it, was precipitated head foremost +into the room, to the great damage of my nose. When I got up, Peter had +vanished, I suppose, as he came; and there was poor Sir Piers leaning +back upon the pillow with his hands stretched out as if in supplication, +his eyes unclosed and staring, and his limbs stark and stiff!" + +A profound silence succeeded this narrative. Mr. Coates would not +venture upon a remark. Dr. Small seemed, for some minutes, lost in +painful reflection; at length he spoke: "You have described a shocking +scene, Mr. Tyrconnel, and in a manner that convinces me of its fidelity. +But I trust you will excuse me, as a friend of the late Sir Piers, in +requesting you to maintain silence in future on the subject. Its +repetition can be productive of no good, and may do infinite harm by +giving currency to unpleasant reports, and harrowing the feelings of the +survivors. Every one acquainted with Sir Piers's history must be aware, +as I dare say you are already, of an occurrence which cast a shade over +his early life, blighted his character, and endangered his personal +safety. It was a dreadful accusation. But I believe, nay, I am sure, it +was unfounded. Dark suspicions attach to a Romish priest of the name of +Checkley. He, I believe, is beyond the reach of human justice. Erring +Sir Piers was, undoubtedly. But I trust he was more weak than sinful. I +have reason to think he was the tool of others, especially of the wretch +I have named. And it is easy to perceive how that incomprehensible +lunatic, Peter Bradley, has obtained an ascendancy over him. His +daughter, you are aware, was Sir Piers's mistress. Our friend is now +gone, and with him let us bury his offences, and the remembrance of +them. That his soul was heavily laden, would appear from your account of +his last moments; yet I fervently trust that his repentance was sincere, +in which case there is hope of forgiveness for him. 'At what time soever +a sinner shall repent him of his sins, from the bottom of his heart, I +will blot out all his wickedness out of my remembrance, saith the Lord.' +Heaven's mercy is greater than man's sins. And there is hope of +salvation even for Sir Piers." + +"I trust so, indeed," said Titus, with emotion; "and as to repeating a +syllable of what I have just said, devil a word more will I utter on the +subject. My lips shall be shut and sealed, as close as one of Mr. +Coates's bonds, for ever and a day: but I thought it just right to make +you acquainted with the circumstances. And now, having dismissed the bad +for ever, I am ready to speak of Sir Piers's good qualities, and not few +they were. What was there becoming a gentleman that he couldn't do, I'd +like to know? Couldn't he hunt as well as ever a one in the county? and +hadn't he as good a pack of hounds? Couldn't he shoot as well, and fish +as well, and drink as well, or better?--only he couldn't carry his wine, +which was his misfortune, not his fault. And wasn't he always ready to +ask a friend to dinner with him? and didn't he give him a good dinner +when he came, barring the cross-cups afterwards? And hadn't he +everything agreeable about him, except his wife? which was a great +drawback. And with all his peculiarities and humors, wasn't he as +kind-hearted a man as needs be? and an Irishman at the core? And so, if +he wern't dead, I'd say long life to him! But as he is, here's peace to +his memory!" + +At this juncture, a knocking was heard at the door, which some one +without had vainly tried to open. Titus rose to unclose it, ushering in +an individual known at the hall as Jack Palmer. + + + + +_CHAPTER IX_ + +_AN ENGLISH ADVENTURER_ + + _Mrs. Peachem._ Sure the captain's the finest gentleman on the road. + + _Beggar's Opera._ + + +Jack Palmer was a good-humored, good-looking man, with immense bushy, +red whiskers, a freckled, florid complexion, and sandy hair, rather +inclined to scantiness towards the scalp of the head, which garnished +the nape of his neck with a ruff of crisp little curls, like the ring on +a monk's shaven crown. Notwithstanding this tendency to baldness, Jack +could not be more than thirty, though his looks were some five years in +advance. His face was one of those inexplicable countenances, which +appear to be proper to a peculiar class of men--a regular Newmarket +physiognomy--compounded chiefly of cunning and assurance; not low +cunning, nor vulgar assurance, but crafty sporting subtlety, careless as +to results, indifferent to obstacles, ever on the alert for the main +chance, game and turf all over, eager, yet easy, keen, yet quiet. He was +somewhat showily dressed, in such wise that he looked half like a fine +gentleman of that day, half like a jockey of our own. His nether man +appeared in well-fitting, well-worn buckskins, and boots with tops, not +unconscious of the saddle; while the airy extravagance of his +broad-skirted, sky-blue riding coat, the richness of his vest--the +pockets of which were beautifully exuberant, according to the mode of +1737--the smart luxuriance of his cravat, and a certain curious taste in +the size and style of his buttons, proclaimed that, in his own esteem at +least, his person did not appear altogether unworthy of decoration; nor, +in justice to Jack, can we allow that he was in error. He was a model +of a man for five feet ten; square, compact, capitally built in every +particular, excepting that his legs were slightly imbowed, which defect +probably arose from his being almost constantly on horseback; a sort of +exercise in which Jack greatly delighted, and was accounted a superb +rider. It was, indeed, his daring horsemanship, upon one particular +occasion, when he had outstripped a whole field, that had procured him +the honor of an invitation to Rookwood. Who he was, or whence he came, +was a question not easily answered--Jack, himself, evading all solution +to the inquiry. Sir Piers never troubled his head about the matter: he +was a "deuced good fellow--rode well, and stood on no sort of ceremony;" +that was enough for him. Nobody else knew anything about him, save that +he was a capital judge of horseflesh, kept a famous black mare, and +attended every hunt in the West Riding--that he could sing a good song, +was a choice companion, and could drink three bottles without feeling +the worse for them. + +Sensible of the indecorum that might attach to his appearance, Dr. Small +had hastily laid down his pipe, and arranged his wig. But when he saw +who was the intruder, with a grunt of defiance he resumed his +occupation, without returning the bow of the latter, or bestowing +further notice upon him. Nothing discomposed at the churchman's +displeasure, Jack greeted Titus cordially, and carelessly saluting Mr. +Coates, threw himself into a chair. He next filled a tumbler of claret, +and drained it at a draught. + +"Have you ridden far, Jack?" asked Titus, noticing the dusty state of +Palmer's azure attire. + +"Some dozen miles," replied Palmer; "and that, on such a sultry +afternoon as the present, makes one feel thirstyish. I'm as dry as a +sandbed. Famous wine this--beautiful tipple--better than all your red +fustian. Ah, how poor Sir Piers used to like it! Well, that's all +over--a glass like this might do him good in his present quarters! I'm +afraid I'm intruding. But the fact is, I wanted a little information +about the order of the procession, and missing you below, came hither in +search of you. You're to be chief mourner, I suppose, Titus--_rehearsing_ +your part, eh?" + +"Come, come, Jack, no joking," replied Titus; "the subject's too +serious. I am to be chief mourner--and I expect you to be a mourner--and +everybody else to be mourners. We must all mourn at the proper time. +There'll be a power of people at the church." + +"There _are_ a power of people here already," returned Jack, "if they +all attend." + +"And they all _will_ attend, or what is the eating and drinking to go +for? I sha'n't leave a soul in the house." + +"Excepting one," said Jack, archly. "Lady Rookwood won't attend, I +think." + +"Ay, excepting her ladyship and her ladyship's abigail. All the rest go +with me, and form part of the procession. You go too." + +"Of course. At what time do you start?" + +"Twelve precisely. As the clock strikes, we set out--all in a line, and +a long line we'll make. I'm waiting for that ould coffin-faced rascal, +Peter Bradley, to arrange the order." + +"How long will it all occupy, think you?" asked Jack, carelessly. + +"That I can't say," returned Titus; "possibly an hour, more or less. But +we shall start to the minute--that is, if we can get all together, so +don't be out of the way. And hark ye, Jack, you must contrive to change +your toggery. That sky-blue coat won't do. It's not the thing at all, at +all." + +"Never fear that," replied Palmer. "But who were those in the +carriages?" + +"Is it the last carriage you mean? Squire Forester and his sons. They're +dining with the other gentlefolk, in the great room up-stairs, to be out +of the way. Oh, we'll have a grand _berrin'_. And, by St. Patrick! I +must be looking after it." + +"Stay a minute," said Jack; "let's have a cool bottle first. They are +all taking care of themselves below, and Peter Bradley has not made his +appearance, so you need be in no hurry. I'll go with you presently. +Shall I ring for the claret?" + +"By all means," replied Titus. + +Jack accordingly arose; and a butler answering the summons, a +long-necked bottle was soon placed before them. + +"You heard of the affray last night, I presume?" said Jack, renewing the +conversation. + +"With the poachers? To be sure I did. Wasn't I called in to examine Hugh +Badger's wounds the first thing this morning; and a deep cut there was, +just over the eye, besides other bruises." + +"Is the wound dangerous?" inquired Palmer. + +"Not exactly mortal, if you mean that," replied the Irishman; +"dangerous, certainly." + +"Humph!" exclaimed Jack; "they'd a pretty hardish bout of it, I +understand. Anything been heard of the body?" + +"What body?" inquired Small, who was half-dozing. + +"The body of the drowned poacher," replied Jack; "they were off to +search for it this morning." + +"Found it--not they!" exclaimed Titus. "Ha, ha!--I can't help laughing, +for the life and _sowl_ of me; a capital trick he played +'em,--capital--ha, ha! What do you think the fellow did? Ha, ha!--after +leading 'em the devil's dance, all around the park, killing a hound as +savage as a wolf, and breaking Hugh Badger's head, which is as hard and +thick as a butcher's block, what does the fellow do but dive into a +pool, with a great rock hanging over it, and make his way to the other +side, through a subterranean cavern, which nobody knew anything about, +till they came to drag it, thinking him snugly drowned all the +while--ha, ha!" + +"Ha, ha, ha!" chorused Jack; "bravo! he's a lad of the right sort--ha, +ha!" + +"He! who?" inquired the attorney. + +"Why, the poacher, to be sure," replied Jack; "who else were we talking +about?" + +"Beg pardon," returned Coates; "I thought you might have heard some +intelligence. We've got an eye upon him. We know who it was." + +"Indeed!" exclaimed Jack; "and who was it?" + +"A fellow known by the name of Luke Bradley." + +"Zounds!" cried Titus, "you don't say it was he? Murder in Irish! that +bates everything; why, he was Sir Piers's----" + +"Natural son," replied the attorney; "he has not been heard of for some +time--shockingly incorrigible rascal--impossible to do anything with +him." + +"You don't say so?" observed Jack. "I've heard Sir Piers speak of the +lad; and, by his account, he's as fine a fellow as ever crossed tit's +back; only a little wildish and unreasonable, as the best of us may be; +wants breaking, that's all. Your skittish colt makes the best horse, and +so would he. To speak the truth, I'm glad he escaped." + +"So am I," rejoined Titus; "for, in the first place, I've a foolish +partiality for poachers, and am sorry when any of 'em come to hurt; and, +in the second, I'd be mighty displeased if any ill had happened to one +of Sir Piers's flesh and blood, as this young chap appears to be." + +"Appears to be!" repeated Palmer; "there's no _appearing_ in the case, I +take it. This Bradley's an undoubted offshoot of the old squire. His +mother was a servant-maid at the hall, I rather think. You sir," +continued he, addressing Coates, "perhaps, can inform us of the real +facts of the case." + +"She was something better than a servant," replied the attorney, with a +slight cough and a knowing wink. "I remember her quite well, though I +was but a boy then; a lovely creature, and so taking, I don't wonder +that Sir Piers was smitten with her. He was mad after the women in those +days, and pretty Sue Bradley above all others. She lived with him quite +like his lady." + +"So I've heard," returned Jack; "and she remained with him till her +death. Let me see, wasn't there something rather odd in the way in which +she died, rather suddenish and unexpected,--a noise made about it at the +time, eh?" + +"Not that I ever heard," replied Coates, shaking his head, and appearing +to be afflicted with an instantaneous ignorance; while Titus affected +not to hear the remark, but occupied himself with his wine-glass. Small +snored audibly. "I was too young, then, to pay any attention to idle +rumors," continued Coates. "It's a long time ago. May I ask the reason +of your inquiry?" + +"Nothing further than simple curiosity," replied Jack, enjoying the +consternation of his companions. "It is, as you say, a long while since. +But it's singular how that sort of thing is remembered. One would think +people had something else to do than talk of one's private affairs for +ever. For my part, I despise such tattle. But there _are_ persons in the +neighborhood who still say it was an awkward business. Amongst others, +I've heard that this very Luke Bradley talks in pretty plain terms about +it." + +"Does he, indeed?" said Coates. "So much the worse for him. Let me once +lay hands upon him, and I'll put a gag in his mouth that shall spoil his +talking in the future." + +"That's precisely the point I desire to arrive at," replied Jack; "and I +advise you by all means to accomplish that, for the sake of the family. +Nobody likes his friends to be talked about. So I'd settle the matter +amicably, were I you. Just let the fellow go his way; he won't return +here again in a hurry, I'll be bound. As to clapping him in quod, he +might prattle--turn stag." + +"Turn stag!" replied Coates, "what the deuce is that? In my opinion, he +has 'turned stag' already. At all events, he'll pay _deer_ for his +night's sport, you may depend upon it. What signifies it what _he_ says? +Let me lay hands upon him, that's all." + +"Well, well," said Jack, "no offence. I only meant to offer a +suggestion. I thought the family, young Sir Ranulph, I mean, mightn't +like the story to be revived. As to Lady Rookwood, she don't, I suppose, +care much about idle reports. Indeed, if I've been rightly informed, she +bears this youngster no particular good-will to begin with, and has +tried hard to get him out of the country. But, as you say, what _does_ +it signify what he says? he can _only_ talk. Sir Piers is dead and +gone." + +"Humph!" muttered Coates, peevishly. + +"But it does seem a little hard, that a lad should swing for killing a +bit of venison in his own father's park." + +"Which he'd a _nat'ral_ right to do," cried Titus. + +"He had no natural right to bruise, violently assault, and endanger the +life of his father's, or anybody else's gamekeeper," retorted Coates. "I +tell you, sir, he's committed a capital offence, and if he's taken----" + +"No chance of that, I hope," interrupted Jack. + +"That's a wish I can't help wishing myself," said Titus: "on my +conscience, these poachers are fine boys, when all's said and done." + +"The finest of all boys," exclaimed Jack, with a kindred enthusiasm, +"are those birds of the night, and minions of the moon, whom we call, +most unjustly, poachers. They are, after all, only _professional +sportsmen_, making a business of what we make a pleasure; a nightly +pursuit of what is to us a daily relaxation; there's the main +distinction. As to the rest, it's all in idea; they merely thin an +overstocked park, as _you_ would reduce a plethoric patient, doctor; or +as _you_ would work a moneyed client, if you got him into Chancery, +Mister Attorney. And then how much more scientifically and +systematically they set to work than we amateurs do! how noiselessly +they bag a hare, smoke a pheasant, or knock a buck down with an air-gun! +how independent are they of any license, except that of a good eye, and +a swift pair of legs! how unnecessary is it for them to ask permission +to shoot over Mr. So-and-so's grounds, or my Lord That's preserves! +they are free of every cover, and indifferent to any alteration in the +game laws. I've some thoughts, when everything else fails, of taking to +poaching myself. In my opinion, a poacher's a highly respectable +character. What say you, Mr. Coates?" turning very gravely to that +gentleman. + +"Such a question, sir," replied Coates, bridling up, "scarcely deserves +a serious answer. I make no doubt you will next maintain that a +highwayman is a gentleman." + +"Most undoubtedly," replied Palmer, in the same grave tone, which might +have passed for banter, had Jack ever bantered. "I'll maintain and prove +it. I don't see how he can be otherwise. It is as necessary for a man to +be a gentleman before he can turn highwayman, as it is for a doctor to +have his diploma, or an attorney his certificate. Some of the finest +gentlemen of their day, as Captain Lovelace, Hind, Hannum, and Dudley, +were eminent on the road, and they set the fashion. Ever since their day +a real highwayman would consider himself disgraced, if he did not +conduct himself in every way like a gentleman. Of course, there are +pretenders in this line, as in everything else. But these are only +exceptions, and prove the rule. What are the distinguishing +characteristics of a fine gentleman?--perfect knowledge of the +world--perfect independence of character--notoriety--command of +cash--and inordinate success with the women. You grant all these +premises? First, then, it is part of a highwayman's business to be +thoroughly acquainted with the world. He is the easiest and pleasantest +fellow going. There is Tom King, for example: he is the handsomest man +about town, and the best-bred fellow on the road. Then whose +inclinations are so uncontrolled as the highwayman's, so long as the +mopuses last? who produces so great an effect by so few words?--'STAND +AND DELIVER!' is sure to arrest attention. Every one is captivated by an +address so _taking_. As to money, he wins a purse of a hundred guineas +as easily as you would the same sum from the faro table. And wherein +lies the difference? only in the name of the game. Who so little need +of a banker as he? all he has to apprehend is a check--all he has to +draw is a trigger. As to the women, they dote upon him: not even your +red-coat is so successful. Look at a highwayman mounted on his flying +steed, with his pistols in his holsters, and his mask upon his face. +What can be a more gallant sight? The clatter of his horse's heels is +like music to his ear--he is in full quest--he shouts to the fugitive +horseman to stay--the other flies all the faster--what chase can be half +so exciting as that? Suppose he overtakes his prey, which ten to one he +will, how readily his summons to deliver is obeyed! how satisfactory is +the appropriation of a lusty purse or corpulent pocket-book!--getting +the brush is nothing to it. How tranquilly he departs, takes off his hat +to his accommodating acquaintance, wishes him a pleasant journey, and +disappears across the heath! England, sir, has reason to be proud of her +highwaymen. They are peculiar to her clime, and are as much before the +brigand of Italy, the contrabandist of Spain, or the cut-purse of +France--as her sailors are before all the rest of the world. The day +will never come, I hope, when we shall degenerate into the footpad, and +lose our _Night Errantry_. Even the French borrow from us--they have +only one highwayman of eminence, and he learnt and practised his art in +England." + +"And who was he, may I ask?" said Coates. + +"Claude Du-Val," replied Jack; "and though a Frenchman, he was a deuced +fine fellow in his day--quite a tip-top macaroni--he could skip and +twirl like a figurant, warble like an opera-singer, and play the +flageolet better than any man of his day--he always carried a lute in +his pocket, along with his snappers. And then his dress--it was quite +beautiful to see how smartly he was rigg'd out, all velvet and lace; and +even with his vizard on his face, the ladies used to cry out to see him. +Then he took a purse with the air and grace of a receiver-general. All +the women adored him--and that, bless their pretty faces! was the best +proof of his gentility. I wish he'd not been a Mounseer. The women +never mistake. _They_ can always discover the true gentlemen, and they +were all, of every degree, from the countess to the kitchen-maid, over +head and ears in love with him." + +"But he was taken, I suppose?" asked Coates. + +"Ay," responded Jack, "the women were his undoing, as they've been many +a brave fellow's before, and will be again." Touched by which +reflection, Jack became for once in his life sentimental, and sighed. +"Poor Du-Val! he was seized at the Hole-in-the-Wall in Chandos-street by +the bailiff of Westminster, when dead drunk, his liquor having been +drugged by his dells--and was shortly afterwards hanged at Tyburn." + +"It was thousand pities," said Mr. Coates, with a sneer, "that so fine a +gentleman should come to so ignominious an end!" + +"Quite the contrary," returned Jack. "As his biographer, Doctor Pope, +properly remarks, 'Who is there worthy of the name of man, that would +not prefer such a death before a mean, solitary, inglorious life?' +By-the-by, Titus, as we're upon the subject, if you like I'll sing you a +song about highwaymen." + +"I should like it of all things," replied Titus, who entertained a very +favorable opinion of Jack's vocal powers, and was by no means an +indifferent performer; "only let it be in a minor key." + +Jack required no further encouragement, but disregarding the hints and +looks of Coates, sang with much unction the following ballad to a good +old tune, then very popular--the merit of which "nobody can deny." + + A CHAPTER OF HIGHWAYMEN + + Of every rascal of every kind, + The most notorious to my mind, + Was the Cavalier Captain, gay JEMMY HIND![7] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + But the pleasantest coxcomb among them all + For lute, coranto, and madrigal, + Was the galliard Frenchman, CLAUDE DU-VAL![8] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + And Tobygloak never a coach could rob, + Could lighten a pocket, or empty a fob, + With a neater hand than OLD MOB, OLD MOB![9] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + Nor did housebreaker ever deal harder knocks + On the stubborn lid of a good strong box, + Than that prince of good fellows, TOM COX, TOM COX![10] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + A blither fellow on broad highway, + Did never with oath bid traveller stay, + Than devil-may-care WILL HOLLOWAY![11] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + And in roguery naught could exceed the tricks + Of GETTINGS and GREY, and the five or six + Who trod in the steps of bold NEDDY WICKS![12] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + Nor could any so handily break a lock + As SHEPPARD, who stood on the Newgate dock, + And nicknamed the jailers around him "_his flock_!"[13] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + Nor did highwaymen ever before possess + For ease, for security, danger, distress, + Such a mare as DICK TURPIN'S Black Bess! Black Bess! + _Which nobody can deny._ + +"A capital song, by the powers!" cried Titus, as Jack's ditty came to a +close. "But your English robbers are nothing at all, compared with our +Tories[14] and Rapparees--nothing at all. They were the _raal_ +gentlemen--they were the boys to cut a throat _aisily_." + +"Pshaw!" exclaimed Jack, in disgust, "the gentlemen I speak of never +maltreated any one, except in self-defence." + +"Maybe not," replied Titus; "I'll not dispute the point--but these +Rapparees were true brothers of the blade, and gentlemen every inch. +I'll just sing you a song I made about them myself. But meanwhile don't +let's forget the bottle--talking's dry work. My service to you, doctor!" +added he, winking at the somnolent Small. And tossing off his glass, +Titus delivered himself with much joviality of the following ballad; the +words of which he adapted to the tune of the _Groves of the Pool_: + + THE RAPPAREES + + Let the Englishman boast of his Turpins and Sheppards, as cocks of + the walk, + His Mulsacks, and Cheneys, and Swiftnecks[15]--it's all botheration + and talk; + Compared with the robbers of Ireland, they don't come within half a + mile, + There never were yet any rascals like those of my own native isle! + + First and foremost comes REDMOND O'HANLON, allowed the first thief + of the world,[16] + That o'er the broad province of Ulster the Rapparee banner unfurled; + Och! he was an elegant fellow, as ever you saw in your life, + At fingering the blunderbuss trigger, or handling the throat-cutting + knife. + + And then such a dare-devil squadron as that which composed REDMOND'S + _tail_! + Meel, Mactigh, Jack Reilly, Shan Bernagh, Phil Galloge, and Arthur + O'Neal; + _Shure_ never were any boys like 'em for rows, _agitations_, and + sprees, + Not a _rap_ did they leave in the country, and hence they were + called _Rap_parees.[17] + + Next comes POWER, the great Tory[18] of Munster, a gentleman born + every inch, + And strong JACK MACPHERSON of Leinster, a horse-shoe who broke at a + pinch; + The last was a fellow so _lively_, not death e'en his courage could + damp, + For as he was led to the gallows, he played his own "march to the + camp."[19] + + PADDY FLEMING, DICK BALF, and MULHONI, I think are the next on my list, + All adepts in the beautiful science of giving a pocket a twist; + JEMMY CARRICK must follow his leaders, _ould_ PURNEY who put in a huff, + By dancing a hornpipe at Tyburn, and bothering the hangman for snuff. + + There's PAUL LIDDY, the curly-pate Tory, whose noddle was stuck on a + spike, + And BILLY DELANEY, the "_Songster_,"[20] we never shall meet with + his like; + For his neck by a witch was anointed, and warranted safe by her charm, + No hemp that was ever yet twisted his wonderful throttle could harm. + + And lastly, there's CAHIR NA CAPPUL, the handiest rogue of them all, + Who only need whisper a word, and your horse will trot out of his + stall; + Your tit is not safe in your stable, though you or your groom should + be near, + And devil a bit in the paddock, if CAHIR gets _hould_ of his ear. + + Then success to the Tories of Ireland, the generous, the gallant, + the gay! + With them the best _Rumpads_[21] of England are not to be named the + same day! + And were further proof wanting to show what precedence we take with + our _prigs_, + Recollect that _our_ robbers are Tories, while those of _your_ + country are Whigs. + +"Bravissimo!" cried Jack, drumming upon the table. + +"Well," said Coates, "we've had enough about the Irish highwaymen, in +all conscience. But there's a rascal on our side of the Channel, whom +you have only incidentally mentioned, and who makes more noise than them +all put together." + +"Who's that?" asked Jack, with some curiosity. + +"Dick Turpin," replied the attorney: "he seems to me quite as worthy of +mention as any of the Hinds, the Du-Vals, or the O'Hanlons, you have +either of you enumerated." + +"I did not think of him," replied Palmer, smiling; "though, if I had, he +scarcely deserves to be ranked with those illustrious heroes." + +"Gads bobs!" cried Titus; "they tell me Turpin keeps the best nag in the +United Kingdom, and can ride faster and further in a day than any other +man in a week." + +"So I've heard," said Palmer, with a glance of satisfaction. "I should +like to try a run with him. I warrant me, I'd not be far behind." + +"I should like to get a peep at him," quoth Titus. + +"So should I," added Coates. "Vastly!" + +"You may both of you be gratified, gentlemen," said Palmer. "Talking of +Dick Turpin, they say, is like speaking of the devil, he's at your elbow +ere the word's well out of your mouth. He may be within hearing at this +moment, for anything we know to the contrary." + +"Body o' me!" ejaculated Coates, "you don't say so? Turpin in Yorkshire! +I thought he confined his exploits to the neighborhood of the +metropolis, and made Epping Forest his headquarters." + +"So he did," replied Jack, "but the cave is all up now. The whole of the +great North Road, from Tottenham Cross to York gates, comes within +Dick's present range; and Saint Nicholas only knows in which part of it +he is most likely to be found. He shifts his quarters as often and as +readily as a Tartar; and he who looks for him may chance to catch a +Tartar--ha!--ha!" + +"It's a disgrace to the country that such a rascal should remain +unhanged," returned Coates, peevishly. "Government ought to look to it. +Is the whole kingdom to be kept in a state of agitation by a single +highwayman?--Sir Robert Walpole should take the affair into his own +hands." + +"Fudge!" exclaimed Jack, emptying his glass. + +"I have already addressed a letter to the editor of the _Common Sense_ +on the subject," said Coates, "in which I have spoken my mind pretty +plainly: and I repeat, it is perfectly disgraceful that such a rascal +should be suffered to remain at large." + +"You don't happen to have that letter by you, I suppose," said Jack, "or +I should beg the favor to hear it?--I am not acquainted with the +newspaper to which you allude;--I read _Fog's Journal_." + +"So I thought," replied Coates, with a sneer; "that's the reason you are +so easily mystified. But luckily I have the paper in my pocket; and you +are quite welcome to my opinions. Here it is," added he, drawing forth a +newspaper. "I shall waive my preliminary remarks, and come to the point +at once." + +"By all means," said Jack. + +"'I thank God,'" began Coates, in an authoritative tone, "'that I was +born in a country that hath formerly emulated the Romans in their public +spirit; as is evident from their conquests abroad, and their struggles +for liberty at home.'" + +"What has all this got to do with Turpin?" interposed Jack. + +"You will hear," replied the attorney--"no interruptions if you please. +'But this noble principle,'" continued he, with great emphasis, "'though +not utterly lost, I cannot think at present so active as it ought to be +in a nation so jealous of her liberty.'" + +"Good!" exclaimed Jack. "There is more than '_common sense_' in that +observation, Mr. Coates." + +"'My suspicion,'" proceeded Coates, "'is founded on a late instance. I +mean the flagrant, undisturbed success of the notorious TURPIN, who hath +robb'd in a manner scarce ever known before for several years, and is +grown so insolent and impudent as to threaten particular persons, and +become openly dangerous to the lives as well as fortunes of the people +of England.'" + +"Better and better," shouted Jack, laughing immoderately. "Pray go on, +sir." + +"'That a fellow,'" continued Coates, "'who is known to be a thief by the +whole kingdom, shall for so long a time continue to rob us, and not only +rob us, but make a jest of us----'" + +"Ha--ha--ha--capital! Excuse me, sir," roared Jack, laughing till the +tears ran down his cheeks--"pray, pray, go on." + +"I see nothing to laugh at," replied Coates, somewhat offended; +"however, I will conclude my letter, since I have begun it--'not only +rob us, but make a jest of us, shall defy the laws, and laugh at +justice, argues a want of public spirit, which should make every +particular member of the community sensible of the public calamity, and +ambitious of the honor of extirpating such a notorious highwayman from +society, since he owes his long successes to no other cause than his +immoderate impudence, and the sloth and pusillanimity of those who ought +to bring him to justice.' I will not deny," continued Coates, "that, +professing myself, as I do, to be a staunch new Whig, I had not some +covert political object in penning this epistle.[22] Nevertheless, +setting aside my principles----" + +"Right," observed Jack; "you Whigs, new or old, always set aside your +principles." + +"Setting aside any political feeling I may entertain," continued Coates, +disregarding the interruption, "I repeat, I am ambitious of extirpating +this modern Cacus--this Autolycus of the eighteenth century." + +"And what course do you mean to pursue?" asked Jack, "for I suppose you +do not expect to catch this '_ought-to-lick-us_,' as you call him, by a +line in the newspapers." + +"I am in the habit of keeping my own counsel, sir," replied Coates, +pettishly; "and to be plain with you, I hope to finger all the reward +myself." + +"Oons, is there a reward offered for Turpin's apprehension?" asked +Titus. + +"No less than two hundred pounds," answered Coates, "and that's no +trifle, as you will both admit. Have you not seen the king's +proclamation, Mr. Palmer?" + +"Not I," replied Jack, with affected indifference. + +"Nor I," added Titus, with some appearance of curiosity; "do you happen +to have _that_ by you too?" + +"I always carry it about with me," replied Coates, "that I may refer to +it in case of emergency. My father, Christopher, or Kit Coates, as he +was familiarly called, was a celebrated thief-taker. He apprehended +Spicket, and Child, and half a dozen others, and always kept their +descriptions in his pocket. I endeavor to tread in my worthy father's +footsteps. I hope to signalize myself by capturing a highwayman. +By-the-by," added he, surveying Jack more narrowly, "it occurs to me +that Turpin must be rather like you, Mr. Palmer?" + +"Like me," said Jack, regarding Coates askance; "like me--how am I to +understand you, sir, eh?" + +"No offence; none whatever, sir. Ah! stay, you won't object to my +comparing the description. That _can_ do no harm. Nobody would take you +for a highwayman--nobody whatever--ha! ha! Singular resemblance--he--he. +These things _do_ happen sometimes: not very often, though. But here is +Turpin's description in the _Gazette_, _June 28th_, A.D. 1737:--'_It +having been represented to the King that Richard Turpin did, on +Wednesday, the 4th of May last, rob on his Majesty's highway Vavasour +Mowbray, Esq., Major of the 2d troop of Horse Grenadiers_'--that Major +Mowbray, by-the-by, is a nephew of the late Sir Piers, and cousin of the +present baronet--'_and commit other notorious felonies and robberies +near London, his Majesty is pleased to promise his most gracious pardon +to any of his accomplices, and a reward of two hundred pounds to any +person or persons who shall discover him, so as he may be apprehended +and convicted_.'" + +"Odsbodikins!" exclaimed Titus, "a noble reward! I should like to lay +hands upon Turpin," added he, slapping Palmer's shoulder: "I wish he +were in your place at this moment, Jack." + +"Thank you!" replied Palmer, shifting his chair. + +"'_Turpin_,'" continued Coates, "'_was born at Thacksted, in Essex; is +about thirty_'--you, sir, I believe, are about thirty?" added he, +addressing Palmer. + +"Thereabouts," said Jack, bluffly. "But what has my age to do with that +of Turpin?" + +"Nothing--nothing at all," answered Coates; "suffer me, however, to +proceed:--'_Is by trade a butcher_,'--you, sir, I believe, never had any +dealings in that line?" + +"I have some notion how to dispose of a troublesome calf," returned +Jack. "But Turpin, though described as a butcher, is, I understand, a +lineal descendant of a great French archbishop of the same name." + +"Who wrote the chronicles of that royal robber Charlemagne; I know him," +replied Coates--"a terrible liar!--The modern Turpin '_is about five +feet nine inches high_'--exactly your height, sir--exactly!" + +"I am five feet ten," answered Jack, standing bolt upright. + +"You have an inch, then, in your favor," returned the unperturbed +attorney, deliberately proceeding with his examination--"'_he has a +brown complexion, marked with the smallpox_.'" + +"My complexion is florid--my face without a seam," quoth Jack. + +"Those whiskers would conceal anything," replied Coates, with a grin. +"Nobody wears whiskers nowadays, except a highwayman." + +"Sir!" said Jack, sternly. "You are personal." + +"I don't mean to be so," replied Coates; "but you must allow the +description tallies with your own in a remarkable manner. Hear me out, +however--'_his cheek bones are broad--his face is thinner towards the +bottom--his visage short--pretty upright--and broad about the +shoulders_.' Now I appeal to Mr. Tyrconnel if all this does not sound +like a portrait of yourself." + +"Don't appeal to me," said Titus, hastily, "upon such a delicate point. +I can't say that I approve of a gentleman being likened to a highwayman. +But if ever there was a highwayman I'd wish to resemble, it's either +Redmond O'Hanlon or Richard Turpin; and may the devil burn me if I know +which of the two is the greater rascal!" + +"Well, Mr. Palmer," said Coates, "I repeat, I mean no offence. +Likenesses are unaccountable. I am said to be like my Lord North; +whether I am or not, the Lord knows. But if ever I meet with Turpin I +shall bear you in mind--he--he! Ah! if ever I _should_ have the good +luck to stumble upon him, I've a plan for his capture which couldn't +fail. Only let me get a glimpse of him, that's all. You shall see how +I'll dispose of him." + +"Well, sir, we _shall_ see," observed Palmer. "And for your own sake, I +wish you may never be nearer to him than you are at this moment. With +his friends, they say Dick Turpin can be as gentle as a lamb; with his +foes, especially with a limb of the law like yourself, he's been found +but an ugly customer. I once saw him at Newmarket, where he was collared +by two constable culls, one on each side. Shaking off one, and dealing +the other a blow in the face with his heavy-handled whip, he stuck spurs +into his mare, and though the whole field gave chase, he distanced them +all, easily." + +"And how came you not to try your pace with him, if you were there, as +you boasted a short time ago?" asked Coates. + +"So I did, and stuck closer to him than any one else. We were neck and +neck. I was the only person who could have delivered him to the hands of +justice, if I'd felt inclined." + +"Zounds!" cried Coates; "If I had a similar opportunity, it should be +neck or nothing. Either he or I should reach the scragging-post first. +I'd take him, dead or alive." + +"_You_ take Turpin?" cried Jack, with a sneer. + +"I'd engage to do it," replied Coates. "I'll bet you a hundred guineas I +take him, if I ever have the same chance." + +"Done!" exclaimed Jack, rapping the table at the same time, so that the +glasses danced upon it. + +"That's right," cried Titus. "I'll go you halves." + +"What's the matter--what's the matter?" exclaimed Small, awakened from +his doze. + +"Only a trifling bet about a highwayman," replied Titus. + +"A highwayman!" echoed Small. "Eh! what? there are none in the house, I +hope." + +"I hope not," answered Coates. "But this gentleman has taken up the +defence of the notorious Dick Turpin in so singular a manner, that----" + +"_Quod factu fœdum est, idem est et Dictu Turpe_," returned Small. +"The less said about that rascal the better." + +"So I think," replied Jack. "The fact is as you say, sir--were Dick +here, he would, I am sure, take the _freedom to hide 'em_." + +Further discourse was cut short by the sudden opening of the door, +followed by the abrupt entrance of a tall, slender young man, who +hastily advanced towards the table, around which the company were +seated. His appearance excited the utmost astonishment in the whole +group: curiosity was exhibited in every countenance--the magnum remained +poised midway in the hand of Palmer--Dr. Small scorched his thumb in the +bowl of his pipe; and Mr. Coates was almost choked, by swallowing an +inordinate whiff of vapor. + +"Young Sir Ranulph!" ejaculated he, as soon as the syncope would permit +him. + +"Sir Ranulph here?" echoed Palmer, rising. + +"Angels and ministers!" exclaimed Small. + +"Odsbodikins!" cried Titus, with a theatrical start; "this is more than +I expected." + +"Gentlemen," said Ranulph, "do not let my unexpected arrival here +discompose you. Dr. Small, you will excuse the manner of my greeting; +and you, Mr. Coates. One of the present party, I believe, was my +father's medical attendant, Dr. Tyrconnel." + +"I had that honor," replied the Irishman, bowing profoundly--"I am Dr. +Tyrconnel, Sir Ranulph, at your service." + +"When, and at what hour, did my father breathe his last, sir?" inquired +Ranulph. + +"Poor Sir Piers," answered Titus, again bowing, "departed this life on +Thursday last." + +"The hour?--the precise minute?" asked Ranulph, eagerly. + +"Troth, Sir Ranulph, as nearly as I can recollect, it might be a few +minutes before midnight." + +"The very hour!" exclaimed Ranulph, striding towards the window. His +steps were arrested as his eye fell upon the attire of his father, +which, as we have before noticed, hung at that end of the room. A slight +shudder passed over his frame. There was a momentary pause, during which +Ranulph continued gazing intently at the apparel. "The very dress, too!" +muttered he; then turning to the assembly, who were watching his +movements with surprise; "Doctor," said he, addressing Small, "I have +something for your private ear. Gentlemen, will you spare us the room +for a few minutes?" + +"On my conscience," said Tyrconnel to Jack Palmer, as they quitted the +sanctum, "a mighty fine boy is this young Sir Ranulph!--and a chip of +the ould block!--he'll be as good a fellow as his father." + +"No doubt," replied Palmer, shutting the door. "But what the devil +brought him back, just in the nick of it?" + + + + +_CHAPTER X_ + +_RANULPH ROOKWOOD_ + + _Fer._ Yes, Francisco, + He hath left his curse upon me. + + _Fran._ How? + + _Fer._ His curse I dost comprehend what that word carries? + Shot from a father's angry breath? Unless + I tear poor Felisarda from my heart, + He hath pronounced me heir to all his curses. + + SHIRLEY: _The Brothers_. + + +"There is nothing, I trust, my dear young friend, and quondam pupil," +said Dr. Small, as the door was closed, "that weighs upon your mind, +beyond the sorrow naturally incident to an affliction, severe as the +present. Forgive my apprehensions if I am wrong. You know the +affectionate interest I have ever felt for you--an interest which, I +assure you, is nowise diminished, and which will excuse my urging you to +unburden your mind to me; assuring yourself, that whatever may be your +disclosure, you will have my sincere sympathy and commiseration. I may +be better able to advise with you, should counsel be necessary, than +others, from my knowledge of your character and temperament. I would not +anticipate evil, and am, perhaps, unnecessarily apprehensive. But I own, +I am startled at the incoherence of your expressions, coupled with your +sudden and almost mysterious appearance at this distressing conjuncture. +Answer me: has your return been the result of mere accident? is it to be +considered one of those singular circumstances which almost look like +fate, and baffle our comprehension? or were you nearer home than we +expected, and received the news of your father's demise through some +channel unknown to us? Satisfy my curiosity, I beg of you, upon this +point." + +"Your curiosity, my dear sir," replied Ranulph, gravely and sadly, "will +not be decreased, when I tell you, that my return has neither been the +work of chance,--for I came, fully anticipating the dread event, which I +find realized,--nor has it been occasioned by any intelligence derived +from yourself, or others. It was only, indeed, upon my arrival here that +I received full confirmation of my apprehensions. I had another, a more +terrible summons to return." + +"What summons? you perplex me!" exclaimed Small, gazing with some +misgiving into the face of his young friend. + +"I am myself perplexed--sorely perplexed," returned Ranulph. "I have +much to relate; but I pray you bear with me to the end. I have that on +my mind which, like guilt, must be revealed." + +"Speak, then, fearlessly to me," said Small, affectionately pressing +Ranulph's hand, "and assure yourself, beforehand, of my sympathy." + +"It will be necessary," said Ranulph, "to preface my narrative by some +slight allusion to certain painful events--and yet I know not why I +should call them painful, excepting in their consequences--which +influenced my conduct in my final interview between my father and +myself--an interview which occasioned my departure for the +Continent--and which was of a character so dreadful, that I would not +even revert to it, were it not a necessary preliminary to the +circumstance I am about to detail. + +"When I left Oxford, I passed a few weeks alone, in London. A college +friend, whom I accidentally met, introduced me, during a promenade in +St. James's Park, to some acquaintances of his own, who were taking an +airing in the Mall at the same time--a family whose name was Mowbray, +consisting of a widow lady, her son, and daughter. This introduction was +made in compliance with my own request. I had been struck by the +singular beauty of the younger lady, whose countenance had a peculiar +and inexpressible charm to me, from its marked resemblance to the +portrait of the Lady Eleanor Rookwood, whose charms and unhappy fate I +have so often dwelt upon and deplored. The picture is there," continued +Ranulph, pointing to it: "look at it, and you have the fair creature I +speak of before you; the color of the hair--the tenderness of the eyes. +No--the expression is not so sad, except when----but no matter! I +recognized her features at once. + +"It struck me, that upon the mention of my name, the party betrayed some +surprise, especially the elder lady. For my own part, I was so attracted +by the beauty of the daughter, the effect of which upon me seemed rather +the fulfilment of a predestined event, originating in the strange +fascination which the family portrait had wrought in my heart, than the +operation of what is called 'love at first sight,' that I was insensible +to the agitation of the mother. In vain I endeavored to rally myself; my +efforts at conversation were fruitless; I could not talk--all I could do +was silently to yield to the soft witchery of those tender eyes; my +admiration increasing each instant that I gazed upon them. + +"I accompanied them home. Attracted as by some irresistible spell, I +could not tear myself away; so that, although I fancied I could perceive +symptoms of displeasure in the looks of both the mother and the son, +yet, regardless of consequences, I ventured, uninvited, to enter the +house. In order to shake off the restraint which I felt my society +imposed, I found it absolutely necessary to divest myself of +bashfulness, and to exert such conversational powers as I possessed. I +succeeded so well that the discourse soon became lively and animated; +and what chiefly delighted me was, that _she_, for whose sake I had +committed my present rudeness, became radiant with smiles. I had been +all eagerness to seek for some explanation of the resemblance to which I +have just alluded, and the fitting moment had, I conceived, arrived. I +called attention to a peculiar expression in the features of Miss +Mowbray, and then instanced the likeness that subsisted between her and +my ancestress. 'It is the more singular,' I said, turning to her mother, +'because there could have been no affinity, that I am aware of, between +them, and yet the likeness is really surprising.'--'It is not so +singular as you imagine,' answered Mrs. Mowbray; 'there _is_ a close +affinity. That Lady Rookwood was my mother. Eleanor Mowbray _does_ +resemble her ill-fated ancestress.' + +"Words cannot paint my astonishment. I gazed at Mrs. Mowbray, +considering whether I had not misconstrued her speech--whether I had not +so shaped the sounds as to suit my own quick and passionate conceptions. +But no! I read in her calm, collected countenance--in the downcast +glance, and sudden sadness of Eleanor, as well as in the changed and +haughty demeanor of the brother, that I had heard her rightly. Eleanor +Mowbray was my cousin--the descendant of that hapless creature whose +image I had almost worshipped. + +"Recovering from my surprise, I addressed Mrs. Mowbray, endeavoring to +excuse my ignorance of our relationship, on the plea that I had not been +given to understand that such had been the name of the gentleman she had +espoused. 'Nor was it,' answered she, 'the name he bore at Rookwood; +circumstances forbade it then. From the hour I quitted that house until +this moment, excepting one interview with my--with Sir Reginald +Rookwood--I have seen none of my family--have held no communication with +them. My brothers have been strangers to me; the very name of Rookwood +has been unheard, unknown; nor would you have been admitted here, had +not accident occasioned it.' I ventured now to interrupt her, and to +express a hope that she would suffer an acquaintance to be kept up, +which had so fortunately commenced, and which might most probably bring +about an entire reconciliation between the families. I was so earnest in +my expostulations, my whole soul being in them, that she inclined a +more friendly ear to me. Eleanor, too, smiled encouragement. Love lent +me eloquence; and at length, as a token of my success, and her own +relenting, Mrs. Mowbray held forth her hand: I clasped it eagerly. It +was the happiest moment of my life. + +"I will not trouble you with any lengthened description of Eleanor +Mowbray. I hope, at some period or other, you may still be enabled to +see her, and judge for yourself; for though adverse circumstances have +hitherto conspired to separate us, the time for a renewal of our +acquaintance is approaching, I trust, for I am not yet altogether +without hope. But this much I may be allowed to say, that her rare +endowments of person were only equalled by the graces of her mind. + +"Educated abroad, she had all the vivacity of our livelier neighbors, +combined with every solid qualification which we claim as more +essentially our own. Her light and frolic manner was French, certainly; +but her gentle, sincere heart was as surely English. The foreign accent +that dwelt upon her tongue communicated an inexpressible charm, even to +the language which she spoke. + +"I will not dwell too long upon this theme. I feel ashamed of my own +prolixity. And yet I am sure you will pardon it. Ah, those bright brief +days! too quickly were they fled! I could expatiate upon each +minute--recall each word--revive each look. It may not be. I must hasten +on. Darker themes await me. + +"My love made rapid progress--I became each hour more enamored of my +new-found cousin. My whole time was passed near her; indeed, I could +scarcely exist in absence from her side. Short, however, was destined to +be my indulgence in this blissful state. One happy week was its extent. +I received a peremptory summons from my father to return home. + +"Immediately upon commencing this acquaintance, I had written to my +father, explaining every particular attending it. This I should have +done of my own free will, but I was urged to it by Mrs. Mowbray. +Unaccustomed to disguise, I had expatiated upon the beauty of Eleanor, +and in such terms, I fear, that I excited some uneasiness in his breast. +His letter was laconic. He made no allusion to the subject upon which I +had expatiated when writing to him. He commanded me to return. + +"The bitter hour was at hand. I could not hesitate to comply. Without my +father's sanction, I was assured Mrs. Mowbray would not permit any +continuance of my acquaintance. Of Eleanor's inclinations I fancied I +had some assurance; but without her mother's consent, to whose will she +was devoted, I felt, had I even been inclined to urge it, that my suit +was hopeless. The letter which I had received from my father made me +more than doubt whether I should not find him utterly adverse to my +wishes. Agonized, therefore, with a thousand apprehensions, I presented +myself on the morning of my departure. It was then I made the +declaration of my passion to Eleanor; it was then that every hope was +confirmed, every apprehension realized. I received from her lips a +confirmation of my fondest wishes; yet were those hopes blighted in the +bud, when I heard, at the same time, that their consummation was +dependent on the will of two others, whose assenting voices, she feared, +could never be obtained. From Mrs. Mowbray I received a more decided +reply. All her haughtiness was aroused. Her farewell words assured me, +that it was indifferent to her whether we met again as relatives or as +strangers. Then was it that the native tenderness of Eleanor displayed +itself, in an outbreak of feeling peculiar to a heart keenly sympathetic +as hers. She saw my suffering--the reserve natural to her sex gave +way--she flung herself into my arms--and so we parted. + +"With a heavy foreboding I returned to Rookwood, and, oppressed with the +gloomiest anticipations, endeavored to prepare myself for the worst. I +arrived. My reception was such as I had calculated upon; and, to +increase my distress, my parents had been at variance. I will not pain +you and myself with any recital of their disagreement. My mother had +espoused my cause, chiefly, I fear, with the view of thwarting my poor +father's inclinations. He was in a terrible mood, exasperated by the +fiery stimulants he had swallowed, which had not indeed, drowned his +reason, but roused and inflamed every dormant emotion to violence. He +was as one insane. It was evening when I arrived. I would willingly have +postponed the interview till the morrow. It could not be. He insisted +upon seeing me. + +"My mother was present. You know the restraint she usually had over my +father, and how she maintained it. On this occasion she had none. He +questioned me as to every particular; probed my secret soul; dragged +forth every latent feeling, and then thundered out his own determination +that Eleanor never should be bride of mine; nor would he receive, under +his roof, her mother, the discountenanced daughter of his father. I +endeavored to remonstrate with him. He was deaf to my entreaties. My +mother added sharp and stinging words to my expostulations. 'I had her +consent,' she said; 'what more was needed? The lands were entailed. I +should at no distant period be their master, and might then please +myself.' This I mention in order to give you my father's strange answer. + +"'Have a care, madam,' replied he, 'and bridle your tongue; they _are_ +entailed, 'tis true, but I need not ask _his_ consent to cut off that +entail. Let him dare to disobey me in this particular, and I will so +divert the channel of my wealth, that no drop shall reach him. I +will--but why threaten?--let him do it, and approve the consequences.' + +"On the morrow I renewed my importunities, with no better success. We +were alone. + +"'Ranulph,' said he, 'you waste time in seeking to change my resolution. +It is unalterable. I have many motives which influence me; they are +inexplicable, but imperative. Eleanor Mowbray never can be yours. Forget +her as speedily as may be, and I pledge myself, upon whomsoever else +your choice may fix, I will offer no obstacle.' + +"'But why,' exclaimed I, with vehemence, 'do you object to one whom you +have never beheld? At least, consent to see her.' + +"'Never!' he replied, 'The tie is sundered, and cannot be reunited; my +father bound me by an oath never to meet in friendship with my sister; I +will not break my vow, I will not violate its conditions, even in the +second degree. We never can meet again. An idle prophecy which I have +heard has said "_that when a Rookwood shall marry a Rookwood the end of +the house draweth nigh_." That I regard not. It may have no meaning, or +it may have much. To me it imports nothing further, than that, if you +wed Eleanor, every acre I possess shall depart from you. And assure +yourself this is no idle threat. I can, and will do it. My curse shall +be your sole inheritance.' + +"I could not avoid making some reply, representing to him how +unjustifiable such a procedure was to me, in a case where the happiness +of my life was at stake; and how inconsistent it was with the charitable +precepts of our faith, to allow feelings of resentment to influence his +conduct. My remonstrances, as in the preceding meeting, were +ineffectual. The more I spoke, the more intemperate he grew. I therefore +desisted, but not before he had ordered me to quit the house. I did not +leave the neighborhood, but saw him again on the same evening. + +"Our last interview took place in the garden. I then told him that I had +determined to go abroad for two years, at the expiration of which period +I proposed returning to England; trusting that his resolution might then +be changed, and that he would listen to my request, for the fulfilment +of which I could never cease to hope. Time, I hoped, might befriend me. +He approved of my plan of travelling, requesting me not to see Eleanor +before I set out; adding, in a melancholy tone--'We may never meet +again, Ranulph, in this life; in that case, farewell forever. Indulge no +vain hopes. Eleanor never can be yours, but upon one condition, and to +that you would never consent!'--'Propose it!' I cried; 'there is no +condition I could not accede to.'--'Rash boy!' he replied, 'you know not +what you say; that pledge you would never fulfil, were I to propose it +to you; but no--should I survive till you return, you shall learn it +then--and now, farewell.'--'Speak now, I beseech you!' I exclaimed; +'anything, everything--what you will!'--'Say no more,' replied he, +walking towards the house; 'when you return we will renew this subject; +farewell--perhaps forever!' His words were prophetic--that parting _was_ +forever. I remained in the garden till nightfall. I saw my mother, but +_he_ came not again. I quitted England without beholding Eleanor." + +"Did you not acquaint her by letter with what had occurred, and your +consequent intentions?" asked Small. + +"I did," replied Ranulph; "but I received no reply. My earliest +inquiries will be directed to ascertain whether the family are still in +London. It will be a question for our consideration, whether I am not +justified in departing from my father's expressed wishes, or whether I +should violate his commands in so doing." + +"We will discuss that point hereafter," replied Small; adding, as he +noticed the growing paleness of his companion, "you are too much +exhausted to proceed--you had better defer the remainder of your story +to a future period." + +"No," replied Ranulph, swallowing a glass of water; "I am exhausted, yet +I cannot rest--my blood is in a fever, which nothing will allay. I shall +feel more easy when I have made the present communication. I am +approaching the sequel of my narrative. You are now in possession of the +story of my love--of the motive of my departure. You shall learn what +was the occasion of my return. + +"I had wandered from city to city during my term of exile--consumed by +hopeless passion--with little that could amuse _me_, though surrounded +by a thousand objects of interest to others, and only rendering life +endurable by severest study or most active exertion. My steps conducted +me to Bordeaux;--there I made a long halt, enchanted by the beauty of +the neighboring scenery. My fancy was smitten by the situation of a +villa on the banks of the Garonne, within a few leagues of the city. It +was an old château, with fine gardens bordering the blue waters of the +river, and commanding a multitude of enchanting prospects. The house, +which had in part gone to decay, was inhabited by an aged couple, who +had formerly been servants to an English family, the members of which +had thus provided for them on their return to their own country. I +inquired the name. Conceive my astonishment to find that this château +had been the residence of the Mowbrays. This intelligence decided me at +once--I took up my abode in the house; and a new and unexpected source +of solace and delight was opened to me, I traced the paths she had +traced; occupied the room she had occupied; tended the flowers she had +tended; and, on the golden summer evenings, would watch the rapid +waters, tinged with all the glorious hues of sunset, sweeping past my +feet, and think how _she_ had watched them. Her presence seemed to +pervade the place. I was now comparatively happy, and, anxious to remain +unmolested, wrote home that I was leaving Bordeaux for the Pyrenees, on +my way to Spain." + +"That account arrived," observed Small. + +"One night," continued Ranulph--"'tis now the sixth since the occurrence +I am about to relate--I was seated in a bower that overlooked the river. +It had been a lovely evening--so lovely, that I lingered there, wrapped +in the heavenly contemplation of its beauties. I watched each rosy tint +reflected upon the surface of the rapid stream--now fading into +yellow--now shining silvery white. I noticed the mystic mingling of +twilight with darkness--of night with day, till the bright current on a +sudden became a black mass of waters. I could scarcely discern a +leaf--all was darkness--when lo! another change! The moon was up--a +flood of light deluged all around--the stream was dancing again in +reflected radiance, and I still lingering at its brink. + +"I had been musing for some moments, with my head resting upon my hand, +when, happening to raise my eyes, I beheld a figure immediately before +me. I was astonished at the sight, for I had perceived no one +approach--had heard no footstep advance towards me, and was satisfied +that no one besides myself could be in the garden. The presence of the +figure inspired me with an undefinable awe! and, I can scarce tell why, +but a thrilling presentiment convinced me that it was a supernatural +visitant. Without motion--without life--without substance, it seemed; +yet still the outward character of life was there. I started to my feet. +God! what did I behold? The face was turned to me--my father's face! And +what an aspect, what a look! Time can never efface that terrible +expression; it is graven upon my memory--I cannot describe it. It was +not anger--it was not pain: it was as if an eternity of woe were stamped +upon its features. It was too dreadful to behold, I would fain have +averted my gaze--my eyes were fascinated--fixed--I could not withdraw +them from the ghastly countenance. I shrank from it, yet stirred not--I +could not move a limb. Noiselessly gliding towards me, the apparition +approached. I could not retreat. It stood obstinately beside me. I +became as one half-dead. The phantom shook its head with the deepest +despair; and as the word 'Return!' sounded hollowly in my ears, it +gradually melted from my view. I cannot tell how I recovered from the +swoon into which I fell, but daybreak saw me on my way to England. I am +here. On that night--at that same hour, my father died." + +"It was, after all, then, a supernatural summons that you received?" +said Small. + +"Undoubtedly," replied Ranulph. + +"Humph!--the coincidence, I own, is sufficiently curious," returned +Small, musingly; "but it would not be difficult, I think, to discover a +satisfactory explanation of the delusion." + +"There was no delusion," replied Ranulph, coldly; "the figure was as +palpable as your own. Can I doubt, when I behold this result? Could any +deceit have been practised upon me, at that distance?--the precise time, +moreover, agreeing. Did not the phantom bid me return?--I _have_ +returned--he is dead. I have gazed upon a being of another world. To +doubt were impious, after that look." + +"Whatever my opinions may be, my dear young friend," returned Small, +gravely, "I will suspend them for the present. You are still greatly +excited. Let me advise you to seek some repose." + +"I am easier," replied Ranulph; "but you are right, I will endeavor to +snatch a little rest. Something within tells me all is not yet +accomplished. What remains?--I shudder to think of it. I will rejoin you +at midnight. I shall myself attend the solemnity. Adieu!" + +Ranulph quitted the room. Small sighingly shook his head, and having +lighted his pipe, was presently buried in a profundity of smoke and +metaphysical speculation. + + + + +_CHAPTER XI_ + +_LADY ROOKWOOD_ + + _Fran. de Med._ Your unhappy husband + Is dead. + + _Vit. Cor._ Oh, he's a happy husband! + Now he owes nature nothing. + + _Mon._ And look upon this creature as his wife. + She comes not like a widow--she comes armed + With scorn and impudence. Is this a mourning habit? + + _The White Devil._ + + +The progress of our narrative demands our presence in another apartment +of the hall--a large, lonesome chamber, situate in the eastern wing of +the house, already described as the most ancient part of the +building--the sombre appearance of which was greatly increased by the +dingy, discolored tapestry that clothed its walls; the record of the +patience and industry of a certain Dame Dorothy Rookwood, who flourished +some centuries ago, and whose skilful needle had illustrated the +slaughter of the Innocents, with a severity of _gusto_, and sanguinary +minuteness of detail, truly surprising in a lady so amiable as she was +represented to have been. Grim-visaged Herod glared from the ghostly +woof, with his shadowy legions, executing their murderous purposes, +grouped like a troop of Sabbath-dancing witches around him. Mysterious +twilight, admitted through the deep, dark, mullioned windows, revealed +the antique furniture of the room, which still boasted a sort of +mildewed splendor, more imposing, perhaps, than its original gaudy +magnificence; and showed the lofty hangings, and tall, hearse-like +canopy of a bedstead, once a couch of state, but now destined for the +repose of Lady Rookwood. The stiff crimson hangings were embroidered in +gold, with the arms and cipher of Elizabeth, from whom the apartment, +having once been occupied by that sovereign, obtained the name of the +"Queen's Room." + +The sole tenant of this chamber was a female, in whose countenance, if +time and strong emotion had written strange defeatures, they had not +obliterated its striking beauty and classical grandeur of expression. It +was a face majestical and severe. Pride was stamped in all its lines; +and though each passion was, by turns, developed, it was evident that +all were subordinate to the sin by which the angels fell. The contour of +her face was formed in the purest Grecian mould, and might have been a +model for Medea; so well did the gloomy grandeur of the brow, the severe +chiselling of the lip, the rounded beauty of the throat, and the +faultless symmetry of her full form, accord with the beau ideal of +antique perfection. Shaded by smooth folds of raven hair, which still +maintained its jetty dye, her lofty forehead would have been displayed +to the greatest advantage, had it not been at this moment knit and +deformed by excess of passion, if that passion can be said to deform +which only calls forth strong and vehement expression. Her figure, which +wanted only height to give it dignity, was arrayed in the garb of +widowhood; and if she exhibited none of the desolation of heart which +such a bereavement might have been expected to awaken, she was evidently +a prey to feelings scarcely less harrowing. At the particular time of +which we speak, Lady Rookwood, for she it was, was occupied in the +investigation of the contents of an escritoire. Examining the papers +which it contained with great deliberation, she threw each aside, as +soon as she had satisfied herself of its purport, until she arrived at a +little package, carefully tied up with black ribbon, and sealed. This, +Lady Rookwood hastily broke open, and drew forth a small miniature. It +was that of a female, young and beautiful, rudely, yet faithfully, +executed--faithfully, we say, for there was an air of sweetness and +simplicity--and, in short, a look of reality and nature about the +picture (it is seldom, indeed, that we mistake a likeness, even if we +are unacquainted with the original) that attested the artist's fidelity. +The face was as radiant with smiles as a bright day with sunbeams. The +portrait was set in gold, and behind it was looped a lock of the darkest +and finest hair. Underneath the miniature was written, in Sir Piers's +hand, the words "_Lady Rookwood_." A slip of folded paper was also +attached to it. + +Lady Rookwood scornfully scrutinized the features for a few moments, and +then unfolded the paper, at the sight of which she started, and turned +pale. "Thank God!" she cried, "this is in my possession--while I hold +this, we are safe. Were it not better to destroy this evidence at once? +No, no, not _now_--it shall not part from me. I will abide Ranulph's +return. This document will give me a power over him such as I could +never otherwise obtain." Placing the marriage certificate, for such it +was, within her breast, and laying the miniature upon the table, she +next proceeded, deliberately, to arrange the disordered contents of the +box. + +All outward traces of emotion had, ere this, become so subdued in Lady +Rookwood, that although she had, only a few moments previously, +exhibited the extremity of passionate indignation, she now, apparently +without effort, resumed entire composure, and might have been supposed +to be engaged in a matter of little interest to herself. It was a dread +calm, which they who knew her would have trembled to behold. "From these +letters I gather," exclaimed she, "that their wretched offspring knows +not of his fortune. So far, well. There is no channel whence he can +derive information, and my first care shall be to prevent his obtaining +any clue to the secret of his birth. I am directed to provide for +him--ha! ha! I will provide--a grave! There will I bury him and his +secret. My son's security and my own wrong demand it. I must choose +surer hands--the work must not be half-done, as heretofore. And now, I +bethink me, he is in the neighborhood, connected with a gang of +poachers--'tis as I could wish it." + +At this moment a knock at the chamber-door broke upon her meditations. +"Agnes, is it you?" demanded Lady Rookwood. + +Thus summoned, the old attendant entered the room. + +"Why are my orders disobeyed?" asked the lady, in a severe tone of +voice. "Did I not say, when you delivered me this package from Mr. +Coates, which he himself wished to present, that I would not be +disturbed?" + +"You did, my lady, but----" + +"Speak out," said Lady Rookwood, somewhat more mildly, perceiving, from +Agnes's manner, that she had something of importance to communicate. +"What is it brings you hither?" + +"I am sorry," returned Agnes, "to disturb your ladyship, but--but----" + +"But what?" interrupted Lady Rookwood, impatiently. + +"I could not help it, my lady--he would have me come; he said he was +resolved to see your ladyship, whether you would or not." + +"Would see me, ha! is it so? I guess his errand, and its object--he has +some suspicion. No, that cannot be; he would not dare to tamper with +these seals. Agnes, I will _not_ see him." + +"But he swears, my lady, that he will not leave the house without seeing +you--he would have forced his way into your presence, if I had not +consented to announce him." + +"Insolent!" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, with a glance of indignation; +"force his way! I promise you he shall not display an equal anxiety to +repeat the visit. Tell Mr. Coates I will see him." + +"Mr. Coates! Mercy on us, my lady, it's not he. He'd never have intruded +upon you unasked. No such thing. He knows his place too well. No, no; +it's not Mr. Coates----" + +"If not he, who is it?" + +"Luke Bradley; your ladyship knows whom I mean." + +"He here--now?----" + +"Yes, my lady; and looking so fierce and strange, I was quite frightened +to see him. He looked so like his--his----" + +"His father, you would say. Speak out." + +"No, my lady, his grandfather--old Sir Reginald. He's the very image of +him. But had not your ladyship better ring the alarm-bell? and when he +comes in, I'll run and fetch the servants--he's dangerous, I'm sure." + +"I have no fears of him. He _will_ see me, you say----" + +"Ay, _will_!" exclaimed Luke, as he threw open the door, and shut it +forcibly after him, striding towards Lady Rookwood, "nor abide longer +delay." + +It was an instant or two ere Lady Rookwood, thus taken by surprise, +could command speech. She fixed her eyes with a look of keen and angry +inquiry upon the bold intruder, who, nothing daunted, confronted her +glances with a gaze as stern and steadfast as her own. + +"Who are you, and what seek you?" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, after a brief +pause, and, in spite of herself, her voice sounded tremulously. "What +would you have, that you venture to appear before me at this season and +in this fashion?" + +"I might have chosen a fitter opportunity," returned Luke, "were it +needed. My business will not brook delay--you must be pleased to +overlook this intrusion on your privacy, at a season of sorrow like the +present. As to the fashion of my visit, you must be content to excuse +it. I cannot help myself. I may amend hereafter. Who I am, you are able, +I doubt not, to divine. What I seek, you shall hear, when this old woman +has left the room, unless you would have a witness to a declaration that +concerns you as nearly as myself." + +An indefinite feeling of apprehension had, from the first instant of +Luke's entrance crossed Lady Rookwood's mind. She, however, answered, +with some calmness: + +"What you can have to say is of small moment to me--nor does it signify +who may hear it. It shall not, however, be said that Lady Rookwood +feared to be alone, even though she endangered her life." + +"I am no assassin," replied Luke, "nor have sought the destruction of my +deadliest foe--though 'twere but retributive justice to have done so." + +Lady Rookwood started. + +"Nay, you need not fear me," replied Luke; "my revenge will be otherwise +accomplished." + +"Go," said Lady Rookwood to Agnes; "yet--stay without, in the +antechamber." + +"My lady," said Agnes, scarcely able to articulate, "shall I----" + +"Hear me, Lady Rookwood," interrupted Luke. "I repeat, I intend you no +injury. My object here is solely to obtain a private conference. You can +have no reason for denying me this request. I will not abuse your +patience. Mine is no idle mission. Say you refuse me, and I will at once +depart. I will find other means of communicating with you--less direct, +and therefore less desirable. Make your election. But we _must_ be +alone--undisturbed. Summon your household--let them lay hands upon me, +and I will proclaim aloud what you would gladly hide, even from +yourself." + +"Leave us, Agnes," said Lady Rookwood. "I have no fear of this man. I +can deal with him myself, should I see occasion." + +"Agnes," said Luke, in a stern, deep whisper, arresting the ancient +handmaiden as she passed him, "stir not from the door till I come forth. +Have you forgotten your former mistress!--my mother? Have you forgotten +Barbara Lovel, and _that night_?" + +"In Heaven's name, hush!" replied Agnes, with a shudder. + +"Let that be fresh in your memory. Move not a footstep, whatever you may +hear," added he, in the same tone as before. + +"I will not--I will not." And Agnes departed. + +Luke felt some wavering in his resolution when he found himself alone +with the lady, whose calm, collected, yet haughty demeanor, as she +resumed her seat, prepared for his communication, could not fail to +inspire him with a certain degree of awe. Not unconscious of her +advantage, nor slow to profit by it, Lady Rookwood remained perfectly +silent, with her eyes steadily fixed upon his face, while his +embarrassment momentarily increased. Summoning, at length, courage +sufficient to address her, and ashamed of his want of nerve, he thus +broke forth: + +"When I entered this room, you asked my name and object. As to the +first, I answer to the same designation as your ladyship. I have long +borne my mother's name. I now claim my father's. My object is, the +restitution of my rights." + +"Soh!--it is as I suspected," thought Lady Rookwood, involuntarily +casting her large eyes down. "Do I hear you rightly?" exclaimed she, +aloud; "your name is----" + +"Sir Luke Rookwood. As my father's elder born; by right of _his_ right +to that title." + +If a glance could have slain him, Luke had fallen lifeless at the lady's +feet. With a smile of ineffable disdain, she replied, "I know not why I +hesitate to resent this indignity, even for an instant. But I would see +how far your audacity will carry you. The name you bear is Bradley?" + +"In ignorance I have done so," replied Luke. "I am the son of her whose +maiden name was Bradley. She was----" + +"'Tis false--I will not hear it--she was _not_," cried Lady Rookwood, +her vehemence getting the master of her prudence. + +"Your ladyship anticipates my meaning," returned Luke. "Susan Bradley +was the first wife of Sir Piers Rookwood." + +"His minion--his mistress if you will; nought else. Is it new to you, +that a village wench, who lends herself to shame, should be beguiled by +such shallow pretences? That she was so duped, I doubt not. But it is +too late now to complain, and I would counsel you not to repeat your +idle boast. It will serve no other purpose, trust me, than to blazon +forth your own--your mother's dishonor." + +"Lady Rookwood," sternly answered Luke, "my mother's fame is as free +from dishonor as your own. I repeat, she was the first wife of Sir +Piers; and that I, her child, am first in the inheritance; nay, sole +heir to the estates and title of Rookwood, to the exclusion of your son. +Ponder upon that intelligence. Men say they fear you, as a thing of ill. +_I_ fear you not. There _have_ been days when the Rookwoods held their +dames in subjection. Discern you nought of that in me?" + +Once or twice during this speech Lady Rookwood's glances had wandered +towards the bell-cord, as if about to summon aid; but the intention was +abandoned almost as soon as formed, probably from apprehension of the +consequences of any such attempt. She was not without alarm as to the +result of the interview, and was considering how she could bring it to a +termination without endangering herself, and, if possible, secure the +person of Luke, when the latter, turning sharply round upon her, and +drawing a pistol, exclaimed,-- + +"Follow me!" + +"Whither?" asked she, in alarm. + +"To the chamber of death!" + +"Why there? what would you do? Villain! I will not trust my life with +you. I will _not_ follow you." + +"Hesitate not, as you value your life. Do aught to alarm the house, and +I fire. Your safety depends upon yourself. I would see my father's body +ere it be laid in the grave. I will not leave you here." + +"Go," said Lady Rookwood; "if that be all, I pledge myself you shall not +be interrupted." + +"I will not take your pledge; your presence shall be my surety. By my +mother's unavenged memory, if you play me false, though all your +satellites stand around you, you die upon the spot! Obey me, and you are +safe. Our way leads to the room by the private staircase--we shall pass +unobserved--you see I know the road. The room, by your own command, is +vacant--save of the dead. We shall, therefore, be alone. This done, I +depart. You will then be free to act. Disobey me, and your blood be upon +your own head." + +"Lead on!" said Lady Rookwood, pressing towards the antechamber. + +"The door I mean is there," pointing to another part of the room--"that +panel,--" + +"Ha! how know you that?" + +"No matter; follow." + +Luke touched a spring, and the panel flying open, disclosed a dim +recess, into which he entered; and, seizing Lady Rookwood's hand, +dragged her after him. + + + + +_CHAPTER XII_ + +_THE CHAMBER OF DEATH_ + + It is the body--I have orders given + That here it should be laid. + + _De Montfort._ + + +The recess upon which the panel opened had been a small oratory, and, +though entirely disused, still retained its cushions and its crucifix. +There were two other entrances to this place of prayer, the one +communicating with a further bedchamber, the other leading to the +gallery. Through the latter, after closing the aperture, without +relinquishing his grasp, Luke passed. + +It was growing rapidly dark, and at the brightest seasons this gloomy +corridor was but imperfectly lighted from narrow, painted, and +wire-protected windows that looked into the old quadrangular courtyard +below; and as they issued from the oratory a dazzling flash of +lightning--a storm having suddenly arisen--momentarily illumined the +whole length of the passage, disclosing the retreating figure of a man, +wrapped in a large sable cloak, at the other extremity of the gallery. +Lady Rookwood uttered an outcry for assistance; but the man, whoever he +might be, disappeared in the instantaneously succeeding gloom, leaving +her in doubt whether or not her situation had been perceived. Luke had +seen this dark figure at the same instant; and, not without +apprehensions lest his plans should be defeated, he griped Lady +Rookwood's arm still more strictly, and placing the muzzle of the pistol +to her breast, hurried her rapidly forwards. + +All was now in total obscurity; the countenance of neither could be +perceived as they trod the dark passage; but Luke's unrelaxed grasp +indicated no change in his purposes, nor did the slow, dignified march +of the lady betray any apprehension on her part. Descending a spiral +staircase, which led from the gallery to a lower story, their way now +lay beneath the entrance-hall, a means of communication little used. +Their tread sounded hollowly on the flagged floor; no other sound was +heard. Mounting a staircase, similar to the one they had just descended, +they arrived at another passage. A few paces brought them to the door. +Luke turned the handle, and they stood within the chamber of the dead. + +The room which contained the remains of poor Sir Piers was arrayed in +all that mockery of state which, vainly attempting to deride death, is +itself a bitter derision of the living. It was the one devoted to the +principal meals of the day; a strange choice, but convenience had +dictated its adoption by those with whom this part of the ceremonial had +originated, and long custom had rendered its usage, for this purpose, +almost prescriptive. This room, which was of some size, had originally +formed part of the great hall, from which it was divided by a thick +screen of black, lustrously varnished oak, enriched with fanciful +figures carved in bold relief. The walls were panelled with the same +embrowned material, and sustained sundry portraits of the members of the +family, in every possible costume, from the steely gear of Sir Ranulph, +down to the flowing attire of Sir Reginald. Most of the race were ranged +around the room; and, seen in the yellow light shed upon their features +by the flambeaux, they looked like an array of stern and silent +witnesses, gazing upon their departed descendant. The sides of the +chamber were hung with black cloth, and upon a bier in the middle of the +room rested the body. Broad escutcheons, decked out in glowing colors +pompously set forth the heraldic honors of the departed. Tall lights +burned at the head and feet, and fragrant perfumes diffused their odors +from silver censers. + +The entrance of Luke and his unwilling companion had been abrupt. The +transition from darkness to the glare of light was almost blinding, and +they had advanced far into the room ere Lady Rookwood perceived a man, +whom she took to be one of the mutes, leaning over the bier. The +coffin-lid was entirely removed, and the person, whose back was towards +them appeared to be wrapped in mournful contemplation of the sad +spectacle before him. Suddenly bursting from Luke's hold, Lady Rookwood +rushed forward with a scream, and touched the man's shoulder. He started +at the summons, and disclosed the features of her son! + +Rapidly as her own act, Luke followed. He levelled a pistol at her head, +but his hand dropped to his side as he encountered the glance of +Ranulph. All three seemed paralyzed by surprise. Ranulph, in +astonishment, extended his arm to his mother, who, placing one arm over +his shoulder, pointed with the other to Luke; the latter stared sternly +and inquiringly at both--yet none spoke. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIII_ + +_THE BROTHERS_ + + We're sorry + His violent act has e'en drawn blood of honor, + And stained our honors; + Thrown ink upon the forehead of our fame, + Which envious spirits will dip their pens into + After our death, and blot us in our tombs; + For that which would seem treason in our lives, + Is laughter when we're dead. Who dares now whisper, + That dares not then speak out; and even proclaim, + With loud words, and broad pens, our closest shame? + + _The Revenger's Tragedy._ + + +With that quickness of perception which at once supplies information on +such an emergency, Luke instantly conjectured who was before him. +Startled as he was, he yet retained his composure, abiding the result +with his arms folded upon his breast. + +"Seize him!" cried Lady Rookwood, as soon as she could command her +speech. + +"He rushes on his death if he stirs," exclaimed Luke, pointing his +pistol. + +"Bethink you where you are, villain!" cried Ranulph; "you are entrapped +in your own toils. Submit yourself to our mercy--resistance is vain, and +will not secure your safety, while it will aggravate your offence. +Surrender yourself----" + +"Never!" answered Luke. "Know you whom you ask to yield?" + +"How should I?" answered Ranulph. + +"By that instinct which tells me who _you_ are. Ask Lady Rookwood--she +can inform you, if she will." + +"Parley not with him--seize him!" cried Lady Rookwood. "He is a robber, +a murderer, who has assailed my life." + +"Beware!" said Luke to Ranulph, who was preparing to obey his mother's +commands; "I am no robber--no murderer. Do not you make me a +fratricide." + +"Fratricide!" echoed Ranulph. + +"Heed him not," ejaculated Lady Rookwood. "It is false--he dares not +harm thee, for his soul. I will call assistance." + +"Hold, mother!" exclaimed Ranulph, detaining Lady Rookwood; "this man +may be what he represents himself. Before we proceed to extremities, I +would question him. I would not have mentioned it in your hearing could +it have been avoided, but my father had another son." + +Lady Rookwood frowned. She would have checked him, but Luke rejoined-- + +"You have spoken the truth; he had a son--I am he. I----" + +"Be silent, I command you!" said Lady Rookwood. + +"Death!" cried Luke, in a loud voice. "Why should I be silent at your +bidding--at _yours_--who regard no laws, human or divine; who pursue +your own fell purposes, without fear of God or man? Waste not your +frowns on me--I heed them not. Do you think I am like a tame hound, to +be cowed to silence? I _will_ speak. Ranulph Rookwood, the name you bear +is mine, and by a right as good as is your own. From his loins, who lies +a corpse before us, I sprang. No brand of shame is on my birth. I am +your father's son--his first-born--your _elder_ brother. Hear me!" cried +he, rushing to the bier. "By this body, I swear that I have avouched the +truth--and though to me the dead Sir Piers Rookwood hath never been what +a father should be to a son--though I have never known his smile, felt +his caresses, or received his blessing, yet now be all forgiven, all +forgotten." And he cast himself with frantic violence upon the coffin. + +It is difficult to describe the feelings with which Ranulph heard Luke's +avowal. Amazement and dread predominated. Unable to stir, he stood +gazing on in silence. Not so Lady Rookwood. The moment for action was +arrived. Addressing her son in a low tone, she said, "Your prey is +within your power. Secure him." + +"Wherefore?" rejoined Ranulph; "if he be my brother, shall I raise my +hand against him?" + +"Wherefore not?" returned Lady Rookwood. + +"'Twere an accursed deed," replied Ranulph. "The mystery is resolved. +'Twas for this that I was summoned home." + +"Ha! what say you? summoned! by whom?" + +"My father!" + +"Your father?" echoed Lady Rookwood, in great surprise. + +"Ay, my dead father! He has appeared to me since his decease." + +"Ranulph, you rave--you are distracted with grief--with astonishment." + +"No, mother; but I will not struggle against my destiny." + +"Pshaw! your destiny is Rookwood, its manors, its lands, its rent-roll, +and its title; nor shall you yield it to a base-born churl like this. +Let him prove his rights. Let the law adjudge them to him, and we will +yield--but not till then. I tell thee he has _not_ the right, nor can he +maintain it. He is a deluded dreamer, who, having heard some idle tale +of his birth, believes it, because it chimes with his wishes. I treated +him with the scorn he deserved. I would have driven him from my +presence, but he was armed, as you see, and forced me hither, perhaps to +murder me; a deed he might have accomplished had it not been for your +intervention. His life is already forfeit, for an attempt of the same +sort last night. Why else came he hither? for what else did he drag me +to this spot? Let him answer that!" + +"I _will_ answer it," replied Luke, raising himself from the bier. + +His face was ghastly as the corpse over which he leaned. "I had a deed +to do, which I wished you to witness. It was a wild conception. But the +means by which I have acquired the information of my rights were wild. +Ranulph, we are both the slaves of fate. You have received your summons +hither--I have had mine. Your father's ghost called you; my mother's +spectral hand beckoned me. Both are arrived. One thing more remains, and +my mission is completed." Saying which, he drew forth the skeleton hand; +and having first taken the wedding-ring from the finger, he placed the +withered limb upon the left breast of his father's body. "Rest there," +he cried, "for ever." + +"Will you suffer that?" said Lady Rookwood, tauntingly, to her son. + +"No," replied Ranulph; "such profanation of the dead shall not be +endured, were he ten times my brother. Stand aside," added he, advancing +towards the bier, and motioning Luke away. "Withdraw your hand from my +father's body, and remove what you have placed upon it." + +"I will neither remove it nor suffer it to be removed," returned Luke. +"'Twas for that purpose I came hither. 'Twas to that hand he was united +in life, in death he shall not be divided from it." + +"Such irreverence shall not be!" exclaimed Ranulph, seizing Luke with +one hand, and snatching at the cereclothes with the other. "Remove it, +or by Heaven----" + +"Leave go your hold," said Luke, in a voice of thunder; "you strive in +vain." + +Ranulph ineffectually attempted to push him backwards; and, shaking away +the grasp that was fixed upon his collar, seized his brother's wrist, so +as to prevent the accomplishment of his purpose. In this unnatural and +indecorous strife the corpse of their father was reft of its covering +and the hand discovered lying upon the pallid breast. + +And as if the wanton impiety of their conduct called forth an immediate +rebuke, even from the dead, a frown seemed to pass over Sir Piers's +features, as their angry glances fell in that direction. This startling +effect was occasioned by the approach of Lady Rookwood, whose shadow, +falling over the brow and visage of the deceased, produced the +appearance we have described. Simultaneously quitting each other, with a +deep sense of shame, mingled with remorse, both remained, their eyes +fixed upon the dead, whose repose they had violated. + +Folding the graveclothes decently over the body, Luke prepared to +depart. + +"Hold!" cried Lady Rookwood; "you go not hence." + +"My brother Ranulph will not oppose my departure," returned Luke; "who +else shall prevent it?" + +"That will I!" cried a sharp voice behind him; and, ere he could turn to +ascertain from whom the exclamation proceeded, Luke felt himself +grappled by two nervous assailants, who, snatching the pistol from his +hold, fast pinioned his arms. + +This was scarcely the work of a moment, and he was a prisoner before he +could offer any resistance. A strong smile of exultation evinced Lady +Rookwood's satisfaction. + +"Bravo, my lads, bravo!" cried Coates, stepping forward, for he it was +under whose skilful superintendence the seizure had been effected: +"famously managed; my father the thief-taker's runners couldn't have +done it better--hand me that pistol--loaded, I see--slugs, no doubt--oh, +he's a precious rascal--search him--turn his pockets inside out, while I +speak to her ladyship." Saying which, the brisk attorney, enchanted with +the feat he had performed, approached Lady Rookwood with a profound bow, +and an amazing smirk of self-satisfaction. "Just in time to prevent +mischief," said he; "hope your ladyship does not suffer any +inconvenience from the alarm--beg pardon, annoyance I meant to +say--which this horrible outrage must have occasioned; excessively +disagreeable this sort of thing to a lady at any time, but at a period +like this more than usually provoking. However, we have the villain safe +enough. Very lucky I happened to be in the way. Perhaps your ladyship +would like to know how I discovered----" + +"Not now," replied Lady Rookwood, checking the volubility of the man of +law. "I thank you, Mr. Coates, for the service you have rendered me; you +will now add materially to the obligation by removing the prisoner with +all convenient despatch." + +"Certainly, if your ladyship wishes it. Shall I detain him a close +prisoner in the hall for the night, or remove him at once to the lock-up +house in the village?" + +"Where you please, so you do it quickly," replied Lady Rookwood, +noticing, with great uneasiness, the agitated manner of her son, and +apprehensive lest, in the presence of so many witnesses, he might say or +do something prejudicial to their interests. Nor were her fears +groundless. As Coates was about to return to the prisoner, he was +arrested by the voice of Ranulph, commanding him to stay. + +"Mr. Coates," said he, "however appearances may be against this man, he +is no robber--you must, therefore, release him." + +"Eh day, what's that? release him, Sir Ranulph?" + +"Yes, sir; I tell you he came here neither with the intent to rob nor to +offer violence." + +"That is false, Ranulph," replied Lady Rookwood. "I was dragged hither +by him at the peril of my life. He is Mr. Coates's prisoner on another +charge." + +"Unquestionably, your ladyship is perfectly right; I have a warrant +against him for assaulting Hugh Badger, the keeper, and for other +misdemeanors." + +"I will myself be responsible for his appearance to that charge," +replied Ranulph. "Now, sir, at once release him." + +"At your peril!" exclaimed Lady Rookwood. + +"Well, really," muttered the astonished attorney, "this is the most +perplexing proceeding I ever witnessed." + +"Ranulph," said Lady Rookwood, sternly, to her son, "beware how you +thwart me!" + +"Yes, Sir Ranulph, let me venture to advise you, as a friend, not to +thwart her ladyship," whispered the attorney; "indeed, she is in the +right." But seeing his advice unheeded, Coates withdrew to a little +distance. + +"I will not see injustice done to my father's son," replied Ranulph, in +a low tone. "Why would you detain him?" + +"Why?" returned she, "our safety demands it--our honor." + +"Our honor demands his instant liberation; each moment he remains in +those bonds sullies its purity. I will free him myself from his +fetters." + +"And brave my curse, foolish boy? You incurred your miserable father's +anathema for a lighter cause than this. Our honor cries aloud for his +destruction. Have I not been injured in the nicest point a woman can be +injured? Shall I lend my name to mockery and scorn, by base +acknowledgment of such deceit, or will you? Where would be my honor, +then, stripped of my fair estates--my son--myself--beggars--dependent on +the bounty of an upstart? Does honor ask you to bear this? It is a +phantom sense of honor, unsubstantial as your father's shade, of which +you just now spoke, that would prompt you to do otherwise." + +"Do not evoke his awful spirit, mother," cried Ranulph, with a shudder; +"do not arouse his wrath." + +"Do not arouse _my_ wrath," returned Lady Rookwood. "I am the more to be +feared. Think of Eleanor Mowbray; the bar between your nuptials is +removed. Would you raise up a greater impediment?" + +"Enough, mother; more than enough. You have decided, though not +convinced me. Detain him within the house, if you will, until the +morrow; in the meantime, I will consider over my line of conduct." + +"Is this, then, your resolve?" + +"It is. Mr. Coates," said Ranulph, calling the attorney, who had been an +inquisitive spectator, though, luckily, not an auditor of this +interview, "unbind the prisoner, and bring him hither." + +"Is it your ladyship's pleasure?" asked Mr. Coates, who regretted +exceedingly that he could not please both parties. + +Lady Rookwood signified her assent by a slight gesture in the +affirmative. + +"Your bidding shall be done, Sir Ranulph," said Coates, bowing and +departing. + +"_Sir_ Ranulph!" echoed Lady Rookwood, with strong emphasis; "marked you +that?" + +"Body o' me," muttered the attorney, "this is the most extraordinary +family, to be sure. Make way, gentlemen, if you please," added he, +pushing through the crowd, towards the prisoner. + +Having described what took place between Lady Rookwood and her son in +one part of the room, we must now briefly narrate some incidental +occurrences in the other. The alarm of a robber having been taken spread +with great celerity through the house, and almost all its inmates rushed +into the room, including Dr. Small, Titus Tyrconnel, and Jack Palmer. + +"Odsbodikins! are you there, honey?" said Titus, who discovered his +ally; "the bird's caught, you see." + +"Caught be d--d," replied Jack, bluffly; "so I see; all his own fault; +infernal folly to come here, at such a time as this. However, it can't +be helped now; he must make the best of it. And as to that sneaking, +gimlet-eyed, parchment-skinned quill-driver, if I don't serve him out +for his officiousness one of these days, my name's not Jack Palmer." + +"Och! cushlamacree! did I ever? why, what's the boy to you, Jack? Fair +play's a jewel, and surely Mr. Coates only did his duty. I'm sorry he's +captured, for his relationship to Sir Piers, and because I think he'll +be tucked up for his pains; and, moreover, I could forgive the poaching; +but as to the breaking into a house on such an occasion as this, och! +It's a plaguy bad look. I'm afraid he's worse than I thought him." + +A group of the tenantry, many of whom were in a state of intoxication, +had, in the meantime, formed themselves round the prisoner. Whatever +might be the nature of his thoughts, no apprehension was visible in +Luke's countenance. He stood erect amidst the assemblage, his tall form +towering above them all, and his eyes fixed upon the movements of Lady +Rookwood and her son. He had perceived the anguish of the latter, and +the vehemence of the former, attributing both to their real causes. The +taunts and jeers, threats and insolent inquiries, of the hinds who +thronged around him, passed unheeded; yet one voice in his ear, sharp as +the sting of a serpent, made him start. It was that of the sexton. + +"You have done well," said Peter, "have you not? Your fetters are, I +hope, to your liking. Well! a wilful man must have his own way, and +perhaps the next time you will be content to follow my advice. You must +now free yourself, the best way you can, from these Moabites, and I +promise you it will be no easy matter. Ha, ha!" + +Peter withdrew into the crowd; and Luke, vainly endeavoring to discover +his retreating figure, caught the eye of Jack Palmer fixed upon himself, +with a peculiar and very significant expression. + +At this moment Mr. Coates made his appearance. + +"Bring forward the prisoner," said the man of law to his two assistants; +and Luke was accordingly hurried along, Mr. Coates using his best +efforts to keep back the crowd. It was during the pressure that Luke +heard a voice whisper in his ear, "Never fear; all's right!" and turning +his head, he became aware of the propinquity of Jack Palmer. The latter +elevated his eyebrows with a gesture of silence, and Luke passed on as +if nothing had occurred. He was presently confronted with Lady Rookwood +and her son; and, notwithstanding the efforts of Mr. Coates, seconded by +some few others, the crowd grew dense around them. + +"Remove his fetters," said Ranulph. And his manacles were removed. + +"You will consent to remain here a prisoner till to-morrow?" + +"I consent to nothing," replied Luke; "I am in your hands." + +"He does not deserve your clemency, Sir Ranulph," interposed Coates. + +"Let him take his own course," said Lady Rookwood; "he will reap the +benefit of it anon." + +"Will you pledge yourself not to depart?" asked Ranulph. + +"Of course," cried the attorney; "to be sure he will. Ha, ha!" + +"No," returned Luke, haughtily, "I will not--and you will detain me at +your proper peril." + +"Better and better," exclaimed the attorney. "This is the highest joke I +ever heard." + +"I shall detain, you, then, in custody, until proper inquiries can be +made," said Ranulph. "To your care, Mr. Coates, and to that of Mr. +Tyrconnel, whom I must request to lend you his assistance, I commit the +charge; and I must further request, that you will show him every +attention which his situation will permit. Remove him. We have a sacred +duty to the dead to fulfil, to which even justice to the living must +give way. Disperse this crowd, and let instant preparations be made for +the completion of the ceremonial. You understand me, sir." + +"Ranulph Rookwood," said Luke, sternly, as he departed, "you have +another--a more sacred office to perform. Fulfil your duty to your +father's son." + +"Away with him!" cried Lady Rookwood. "I am out of all patience with +this trilling. Follow me to my chamber," added she to her son, passing +towards the door. The concourse of spectators, who had listened to this +extraordinary scene in astonishment, made way for her instantly, and she +left the room, accompanied by Ranulph. The prisoner was led out by the +other door. + +"Botheration!" cried Titus to Mr. Coates, as they followed in the wake, +"why did he choose out me? I'll lose the funeral entirely by his +arrangement." + +"That you will," replied Palmer. "Shall I be your deputy?" + +"No, no," returned Coates. "I will have no other than Mr. Tyrconnel. It +was Sir Ranulph's express wish." + +"That's the devil of it," returned Titus; "and I, who was to have been +chief mourner, and have made all the preparations, am to be omitted. I +wish Sir Ranulph had stayed till to-morrow--what could bring him here, +to spoil all?--it's cursedly provoking!" + +"Cursed provoking!" echoed Jack. + +"But then there's no help, so I must make the best of it," returned the +good-humored Irishman. + +"Body o' me," said Coates, "there's something in all this that I can't +fathom. As to keeping the prisoner _here_, that's all moonshine. But I +suppose we shall know the whole drift of it to-morrow." + +"Ay," replied Jack, with a meaning smile, "to-morrow!" + + + + +_BOOK II_ + + +_THE SEXTON_ + + _Duchess._ Thou art very plain. + + _Bosola._ My trade is to flatter the dead--not the living--I am a + tomb-maker. + + WEBSTER. + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_THE STORM_ + + Come, list, and hark! the bell doth towle, + For some but now departing sowle; + And was not that some ominous fowle? + The bat, the night-crow, or screech-owle? + To these I hear the wild wolf howle, + In this dark night that seems to scowle;-- + All these my blacke-booke shall enrowle, + For hark! still hark! the bell doth towle + For some but new-departed sowle! + + HAYWOOD: _Rape of Lucrece_. + + +The night was wild and stormy. The day had been sultry, with a lurid, +metallic-looking sky, hanging like a vast galvanic plate over the face +of nature. As evening drew on, everything betokened the coming tempest. +Unerring indications of its approach were noted by the weatherwise at +the hall. The swallow was seen to skim the surface of the pool so +closely that he ruffled its placid mirror as he passed; and then, +sharply darting round and round, with twittering scream, he winged his +rapid flight to his clay-built home, beneath the barn eaves. The kine +that had herded to the margin of the water, and sought, by splashing, to +relieve themselves from the keen persecution of their myriad insect +tormentors, wended stallwards, undriven, and deeply lowing. The deer, +that at twilight had trooped thither also for refreshment, suddenly, +"with expanded nostrils, snuffed the air," and bounded off to their +coverts, amidst the sheltering fernbrake. The rooks "obstreperous of +wing, in crowds combined," cawed in a way that, as plainly as words +could have done, bespoke their apprehension; and were seen, some +hovering and beating the air with flapping pinion, others shooting +upwards in mid space, as if to reconnoitre the weather; while others, +again, were croaking to their mates, in loud discordant tone, from the +highest branches of the lime-trees; all, seemingly, as anxious and as +busy as mariners before a gale of wind. At sunset, the hazy vapors, +which had obscured the horizon throughout the day, rose up in spiral +volumes, like smoke from a burning forest, and, becoming gradually +condensed, assumed the form of huge, billowy masses, which, reflecting +the sun's light, changed, as the sinking orb declined, from purple to +flame-color, and thence to ashy, angry gray. Night rushed onwards, like +a sable steed. There was a dead calm. The stillness was undisturbed, +save by an intermittent, sighing wind, which, hollow as a murmur from +the grave, died as it rose. At once the gray clouds turned to an inky +blackness. A single, sharp, intensely vivid flash, shot from the bosom +of the rack, sheer downwards, and struck the earth with a report like +that of a piece of ordnance. In ten minutes it was dunnest night, and a +rattling thunder-storm. + +The progress of the storm was watched with infinite apprehension by the +crowd of tenantry assembled in the great hall; and loud and frequent +were the ejaculations uttered, as each succeeding peal burst over their +heads. There was, however, one amongst the assemblage who seemed to +enjoy the uproar. A kindred excitement appeared to blaze in his glances, +as he looked upon the storm without. This was Peter Bradley. He stood +close by the window, and shaded not his eyes, even before the fiercest +flashes. A grin of unnatural exhilaration played upon his features, and +he seemed to exult in, and to court, the tempestuous horrors, which +affected the most hardy amongst his companions with consternation, and +made all shrink, trembling, into the recesses of the room. Peter's +conduct was not unobserved, nor his reputation for unholy dealing +forgotten. To some he was almost as much an object of dread as the storm +itself. + +"Didst ever see the like o' that?" said Farmer Burtenshaw--one of the +guests, whose round, honest face good wine had recently empurpled, but +fear had now mottled white,--addressing a neighbor. "Didst ever hear of +any man that were a Christian laughing in the very face o' a +thunder-storm, with the lightnin' fit to put out his eyes, and the +rattle above ready to break the drums o' his ears? I always thought +Peter Bradley was not exactly what he ought to be, and now I am sure on +it." + +"For my part, I think, Neighbor Burtenshaw," returned the other, "that +this great burst of weather's all of his raising, for in all my born +days I never see'd such a hurly-burly, and hope never to see the like of +it again. I've heard my grandfather tell of folk as could command wind +and rain; and, mayhap, Peter may have the power--we all know he can do +more nor any other man." + +"We know, at all events," replied Burtenshaw, "that he lives like no +other man; that he spends night after night by himself in that dreary +churchyard; that he keeps no living thing, except an old terrier dog, in +his crazy cottage; and that he never asks a body into his house from one +year's end to another. I've never crossed his threshold these twenty +years. But," continued he mysteriously, "I happened to pass the house +one dark, dismal night, and there what dost think I see'd through the +window?" + +"What--what didst see?" + +"Peter Bradley sitting with a great book open on his knees; it were a +Bible, I think, and he crying like a child." + +"Art sure o' that?" + +"The tears were falling fast upon the leaves," returned Burtenshaw; "but +when I knocked at the door, he hastily shut up the book, and ordered me +to be gone, in a surly tone, as if he were ashamed of being caught in +the fact." + +"I thought no tear had ever dropped from his eye," said the other. "Why, +he laughed when his daughter Susan went off at the hall; and, when she +died, folks said he received hush-money to say nought about it. _That_ +were a bad business, anyhow; and now that his grandson Luke be taken in +the fact of housebreaking, he minds it no more, not he, than if nothing +had happened." + +"Don't be too sure of that," replied Burtenshaw; "he may be scheming +summat all this time. Well, I've known Peter Bradley now these +two-and-fifty years, and, excepting that one night, I never saw any good +about him, and never heard of nobody who could tell who he be, or where +he do come from." + +"One thing's certain, at least," replied the other farmer--"he were +never born at Rookwood. How he came here the devil only knows. Save us! +what a crash!--this storm be all of his raising, I tell 'ee." + +"He be--what he certainly will be," interposed another speaker, in a +louder tone, and with less of apprehension in his manner than his +comrade, probably from his nerves being better fortified with strong +liquor. "Dost thou think, Samuel Plant, as how Providence would entrust +the like o' him with the command of the elements? No--no, it's rank +blasphemy to suppose such a thing, and I've too much of the true +Catholic and apostate church about me, to stand by and hear that said." + +"Maybe, then, he gets his power from the Prince of Darkness," replied +Plant; "no man else could go on as he does--only look at him. He seems +to be watching for the thunderbowt." + +"I wish he may catch it, then," returned the other. + +"That's an evil wish, Simon Toft, and thou mayst repent it." + +"Not I," replied Toft; "it would be a good clearance to the neighborhood +to get rid o' th' old croaking curmudgeon." + +Whether or not Peter overheard the conversation, we pretend not to say, +but at that moment a blaze of lightning showed him staring fiercely at +the group. + +"As I live, he's overheard you, Simon," exclaimed Plant. "I wouldn't be +in your skin for a trifle." + +"Nor I," added Burtenshaw. + +"Let him overhear me," answered Toft; "who cares? he shall hear summat +worth listening to. I'm not afraid o' him or his arts, were they as +black as Beelzebuth's own; and to show you I'm not, I'll go and have a +crack with him on the spot." + +"Thou'rt a fool for thy pains, if thou dost, Friend Toft," returned +Plant, "that's all I can say." + +"Be advised by me, and stay here," seconded Burtenshaw, endeavoring to +hold him back. + +But Toft would not be advised-- + + Kings may be blest, but he was glorious, + O'er all the ills of life victorious. + +Staggering up to Peter, he laid a hard grasp upon his shoulder, and, +thus forcibly soliciting his attention, burst into a loud horse-laugh. + +But Peter was, or affected to be, too much occupied to look at him. + +"What dost see, man, that thou starest so?" + +"It comes, it comes--the rain--the rain--a torrent--a deluge--ha, ha! +Blessed is the corpse the rain rains on. Sir Piers may be drenched +through his leaden covering by such a downfall as that--splash, +splash--fire and water and thunder, all together--is not that fine?--ha, +ha! The heavens will weep for him, though friends shed not a tear. When +did a great man's heir feel sympathy for his sire's decease? When did +his widow mourn? When doth any man regret his fellow? Never! He +rejoiceth--he maketh glad in his inmost heart--he cannot help it--it is +nature. We all pray for--we all delight in each other's destruction. We +were created to do so; or why else should we act thus? I never wept for +any man's death, but I have often laughed. Natural sympathy!--out on the +phrase! The distant heavens--the senseless trees--the impenetrable +stones--shall regret you more than man shall bewail your death with more +sincerity. Ay, 'tis well--rain on--splash, splash: it will cool the +hell-fever. Down, down--buckets and pails, ha, ha!" + +There was a pause, during which the sexton, almost exhausted by the +frenzy in which he had suffered himself to be involved, seemed +insensible to all around him. + +"I tell you what," said Burtenshaw to Plant, "I have always thought +there was more in Peter Bradley nor appears on the outside. He is not +what he seems to be, take my word on it. Lord love you! do you think a +man such as he pretends to be could talk in that sort of way--about +nat'ral simpering?--no such thing." + +When Peter recovered, his insane merriment broke out afresh, having only +acquired fury by the pause. + +"Look out, look out!" cried he; "hark to the thunder--list to the rain! +Marked ye that flash--marked ye the clock-house--and the bird upon the +roof? 'tis the rook--the great bird of the house, that hath borne away +the soul of the departed. There, there--can you not see it? it sits and +croaks through storm and rain, and never heeds at all--and wherefore +should it heed? See, it flaps its broad black wings--it croaks--ha, ha! +It comes--it comes." + +And driven, it might be by the terror of the storm, from more secure +quarters, a bird, at this instant, was dashed against the window, and +fell to the ground. + +"That's a call," continued Peter; "it will be over soon, and we must set +out. The dead will not need to tarry. Look at that trail of fire along +the avenue; dost see yon line of sparkles, like a rocket's tail? That's +the path the corpse will take. St. Hermes's flickering fire, Robin +Goodfellow's dancing light, or the blue flame of the corpse-candle, +which I saw flitting to the churchyard last week, was not so pretty a +sight--ha, ha! You asked me for a song a moment ago--you shall have one +now without asking." + +And without waiting to consult the inclinations of his comrades, Peter +broke into the following wild strain with all the fervor of a +half-crazed improvisatore: + + THE CORPSE-CANDLE + + Lambere flamma ταφος et circum funera pasci. + + Through the midnight gloom did a pale blue light + To the churchyard mirk wing its lonesome flight:-- + Thrice it floated those old walls round-- + Thrice it paused--till the grave it found. + Over the grass-green sod it glanced, + Over the fresh-turned earth it danced, + Like a torch in the night-breeze quivering-- + Never was seen so gay a thing! + Never was seen so blithe a sight + As the midnight dance of that blue light! + + Now what of that pale blue flame dost know? + Canst tell where it comes from, or where it will go? + Is it the soul, released from clay, + Over the earth that takes its way, + And tarries a moment in mirth and glee + Where the corse it hath quitted interred shall be? + Or is it the trick of some fanciful sprite, + That taketh in mortal mischance delight, + And marketh the road the coffin shall go, + And the spot where the dead shall be soon laid low? + Ask him who can answer these questions aright; + I know not the cause of that pale blue light! + +"I can't say I like thy song, Master Peter," said Toft, as the sexton +finished his stave, "but if thou _didst_ see a corpse-candle, as thou +call'st thy pale blue flame, whose death doth it betoken?--eh!" + +"Thine own," returned Peter, sharply. + +"Mine! thou lying old cheat--dost dare to say that to my face? Why, I'm +as hale and hearty as ever a man in the house. Dost think there's no +life and vigor in this arm, thou drivelling old dotard?" + +Upon which, Toft seized Peter by the throat with an energy that, but for +the timely intervention of the company, who rushed to his assistance, +the prophet might himself have anticipated the doom he prognosticated. + +Released from the grasp of Toft, who was held back by the bystanders, +Peter again broke forth into his eldritch laugh; and staring right into +the face of his adversary, with eyes glistening, and hands uplifted, as +if in the act of calling down an imprecation on his head, he screamed, +in a shrill and discordant voice, "Soh! you will not take my warning? +you revile me--you flout me! 'Tis well! your fate shall prove a warning +to all unbelievers--_they_ shall remember this night, though _you_ will +not. Fool! fool!--your doom has long been sealed! I saw your wraith +choose out its last lodgment on Halloween; I know the spot. Your grave +is dug already--ha, ha!" And, with renewed laughter, Peter rushed out of +the room. + +"Did I not caution thee not to provoke him, friend Toft?" said Plant; +"it's ill playing with edge-tools; but don't let him fly off in that +tantrum--one of ye go after him." + +"That will I," replied Burtenshaw; and he departed in search of the +sexton. + +"I'd advise thee to make it up with Peter so soon as thou canst, +neighbor," continued Plant; "he's a bad friend, but a worse enemy." + +"Why, what harm can he do me?" returned Toft, who, however, was not +without some misgivings. "If I must die, I can't help it--I shall go +none the sooner for him, even if he speak the truth, which I don't think +he do; and if I must, I sha'n't go unprepared--only I think as how, if +it pleased Providence, I could have wished to keep my old missus company +some few years longer, and see those bits of lasses of mine grow up +into women, and respectably provided for. But His will be done. I +sha'n't leave 'em quite penniless, and there's one eye at least, I'm +sure, won't be dry at my departure." Here the stout heart of Toft gave +way, and he shed some few "natural tears," which, however, he speedily +brushed away. "I'll tell you what, neighbors," continued he, "I think we +may all as well be thinking of going to our own homes, for, to my mind, +we shall never reach the churchyard to-night." + +"That _you_ never will," exclaimed a voice behind him; and Toft, turning +round, again met the glance of Peter. + +"Come, come, Master Peter," cried the good-natured farmer, "this be ugly +jesting--ax pardon for my share of it--sorry for what I did--so give us +thy hand, man, and think no more about it." + +Peter extended his claw, and the parties were, apparently, once more +upon terms of friendship. + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_THE FUNERAL ORATION_ + + In northern customs duty was exprest + To friends departed by their funeral feast; + Though I've consulted Hollingshed and Stow, + I find it very difficult to know, + Who, to refresh the attendants to the grave, + Burnt claret first, or Naples' biscuit gave. + + KING: _Art of Cookery_. + + Ceterum priusquam corpus humo injectâ contegatur, defunctus oratione + funebri laudabatur.--DURAND. + + +A supply of spirits was here introduced; lights were brought at the same +time, and placed upon a long oak table. The party gathering round it, +ill-humor was speedily dissipated, and even the storm disregarded, in +the copious libations that ensued. At this juncture, a loiterer appeared +in the hall. His movements were unnoticed by all excepting the sexton, +who watched his proceedings with some curiosity. The person walked to +the window, appearing, so far as could be discovered, to eye the storm +with great impatience. He then paced the hall rapidly backwards and +forwards, and Peter fancied he could detect sounds of disappointment in +his muttered exclamations. Again he returned to the window, as if to +ascertain the probable duration of the shower. It was a hopeless +endeavor; all was pitch-dark without; the lightning was now only seen at +long intervals, but the rain still audibly descended in torrents. +Apparently seeing the impossibility of controlling the elements, the +person approached the table. + +"What think you of the night, Mr. Palmer?" asked the sexton of Jack, for +he was the anxious investigator of the weather. + +"Don't know--can't say--set in, I think--cursed unlucky--for the +funeral, I mean--we shall be drowned if we go." + +"And drunk if we stay," rejoined Peter. "But never fear, it will hold +up, depend upon it, long before we can start. Where have they put the +prisoner?" asked he, with a sudden change of manner. + +"I know the room, but can't describe it; it's two or three doors down +the lower corridor of the eastern gallery." + +"Good. Who are on guard?" + +"Titus Tyrconnel and that swivel-eyed quill-driver, Coates." + +"Enough." + +"Come, come, Master Peter," roared Toft, "let's have another stave. Give +us one of your odd snatches. No more corpse-candles, or that sort of +thing. Something lively--something jolly--ha, ha!" + +"A good move," shouted Jack. "A lively song from _you_--lillibullero +from a death's-head--ha, ha!" + +"My songs are all of a sort," returned Peter; "I am seldom asked to +sing a second time. However, you are welcome to the merriest I have." +And preparing himself, like certain other accomplished vocalists, with a +few preliminary hems and haws, he struck forth the following doleful +ditty: + + THE OLD OAK COFFIN + + Sic ego componi versus in ossa velim.--TIBULLUS. + + In a churchyard, upon the sward, a coffin there was laid, + And leaning stood, beside the wood, a sexton on his spade. + A coffin old and black it was, and fashioned curiously, + With quaint device of carved oak, in hideous fantasie. + + For here was wrought the sculptured thought of a tormented face, + With serpents lithe that round it writhe, in folded strict embrace. + Grim visages of grinning fiends were at each corner set, + And emblematic scrolls, mort-heads, and bones together met. + + "Ah, welladay!" that sexton gray unto himself did cry, + "Beneath that lid much lieth hid--much awful mysterie. + It is an ancient coffin from the abbey that stood here; + Perchance it holds an abbot's bones, perchance those of a frere. + + "In digging deep, where monks do sleep, beneath yon cloister shrined, + That coffin old, within the mould, it was my chance to find; + The costly carvings of the lid I scraped full carefully, + In hope to get at name or date, yet nothing could I see. + + "With pick and spade I've plied my trade for sixty years and more, + Yet never found, beneath the ground, shell strange as that before; + Full many coffins have I seen--have seen them deep or flat, + Fantastical in fashion--none fantastical as that." + + And saying so, with heavy blow, the lid he shattered wide, + And, pale with fright, a ghastly sight that sexton gray espied; + A miserable sight it was, that loathsome corpse to see, + The last, last, dreary, darksome stage of fall'n humanity. + + Though all was gone, save reeky bone, a green and grisly heap, + With scarce a trace of fleshly face, strange posture did it keep. + The hands were clenched, the teeth were wrenched, as if the wretch + had risen, + E'en after death had ta'en his breath, to strive and burst his prison. + + The neck was bent, the nails were rent, no limb or joint was straight; + Together glued, with blood imbued, black and coagulate. + And, as the sexton stooped him down to lift the coffin plank, + His fingers were defiled all o'er with slimy substance dank. + + "Ah, welladay!" that sexton gray unto himself did cry, + "Full well I see how Fate's decree foredoomed this wretch to die; + A living man, a breathing man, within the coffin thrust, + Alack! alack! the agony ere he returned to dust!" + + A vision drear did then appear unto that sexton's eyes; + Like that poor wight before him straight he in a coffin lies. + He lieth in a trance within that coffin close and fast; + Yet though he sleepeth now, he feels he shall awake at last. + + The coffin, then, by reverend men, is borne with footsteps slow, + Where tapers shine before the shrine, where breathes the requiem low; + And for the dead the prayer is said, for the soul that is _not_ flown-- + Then all is drowned in hollow sound, the earth is o'er him thrown! + + He draweth breath--he wakes from death to life more horrible; + To agony! such agony! no living tongue may tell. + Die! die he must, that wretched one! he struggles--strives in vain; + No more Heaven's light, nor sunshine bright, shall he behold again. + + "Gramercy, Lord!" the sexton roared, awakening suddenly, + "If this be dream, yet doth it seem most dreadful so to die. + Oh, cast my body in the sea! or hurl it on the shore! + But nail me not in coffin fast--no grave will I dig more." + +It was not difficult to discover the effect produced by this song, in +the lengthened faces of the greater part of the audience. Jack Palmer, +however, laughed loud and long. + +"Bravo, bravo!" cried he; "that suits my humor exactly. I can't abide +the thoughts of a coffin. No deal box for me." + +"A gibbet might, perhaps, serve your turn as well," muttered the sexton; +adding aloud, "I am now entitled to call upon you;--a song!--a song!" + +"Ay, a song, Mr. Palmer, a song!" reiterated the hinds. "Yours will be +the right kind of thing." + +"Say no more," replied Jack. "I'll give you a chant composed upon Dick +Turpin, the highwayman. It's no great shakes, to be sure, but it's the +best I have." And, with a knowing wink at the sexton, he commenced, in +the true nasal whine, the following strain: + + ONE FOOT IN THE STIRRUP + + OR TURPIN'S FIRST FLING + + Cum esset proposita fuga _Turpi_(n)_s_.--CICERO. + + "One foot in the stirrup, one hand in the rein, + And the noose be my portion, or freedom I'll gain! + Oh! give me a seat in my saddle once more, + And these bloodhounds shall find that the chase is not o'er!" + Thus muttered Dick Turpin, who found, while he slept, + That the Philistines old on his slumbers had crept; + Had entrapped him as puss on her form you'd ensnare, + And that gone were his snappers--and gone was his mare. + _Hilloah!_ + + How Dick had been captured is readily told, + The pursuit had been hot, though the night had been cold, + So at daybreak, exhausted, he sought brief repose + Mid the thick of a corn-field, away from his foes. + But in vain was his caution--in vain did his steed, + Ever watchful and wakeful in moments of need, + With lip and with hoof on her master's cheek press-- + He slept on, nor heeded the warning of Bess. + _Hilloah!_ + + "Zounds! gem'men!" cried Turpin, "you've found me at fault, + And the highflying highwayman's come to a halt; + You have turned up a trump--for I weigh well my weight,-- + And the _forty is yours_, though the halter's _my_ fate. + Well, come on't what will, you shall own when all's past, + That Dick Turpin, the Dauntless, was game to the last. + But, before we go further, I'll hold you a bet, + That one foot in my stirrup you won't let me set. + _Hilloah!_ + + "A hundred to one is the odds _I_ will stand, + A hundred to one is the odds _you_ command; + Here's a handful of goldfinches ready to fly! + May I venture a foot in my stirrup to try?" + As he carelessly spoke, Dick directed a glance + At his courser, and motioned her slyly askance:-- + You might tell by the singular toss of her head, + And the prick of her ears, that his meaning she read. + _Hilloah!_ + + With derision at first was Dick's wager received, + And his error at starting as yet unretrieved; + But when from his pocket the shiners he drew, + And offered to "make up the hundred to two," + There were havers in plenty, and each whispered each, + The same thing, though varied in figure of speech, + "Let the fool act his folly--the stirrup of Bess! + He has put his foot _in it_ already, we guess!" + _Hilloah!_ + + Bess was brought to her master--Dick steadfastly gazed + At the eye of his mare, then his foot quick upraised; + His toe touched the stirrup, his hand grasped the rein-- + He was safe on the back of his courser again! + As the clarion, fray-sounding and shrill, was the neigh + Of Black Bess, as she answered his cry "Hark-away!" + "Beset me, ye bloodhounds! in rear and in van; + My foot's in the stirrup and catch me who can!" + _Hilloah!_ + + There was riding and gibing mid rabble and rout, + And the old woods re-echoed the Philistines' shout! + There was hurling and whirling o'er brake and o'er brier, + But the course of Dick Turpin was swift as Heaven's fire. + Whipping, spurring, and straining would nothing avail, + Dick laughed at their curses, and scoffed at their wail; + "My foot's in the stirrup!"--thus rang his last cry; + "Bess has answered my call; now her mettle we'll try!" + _Hilloah!_ + +Uproarious applause followed Jack's song, when the joviality of the +mourners was interrupted by a summons to attend in the state-room. +Silence was at once completely restored; and, in the best order they +could assume, they followed their leader, Peter Bradley. Jack Palmer +was amongst the last to enter, and remained a not incurious spectator of +a by no means common scene. + +Preparations had been made to give due solemnity to the ceremonial. The +leaden coffin was fastened down, and enclosed in an outer case of oak, +upon the lid of which stood a richly-chased massive silver flagon, +filled with burnt claret, called the grace-cup. All the lights were +removed, save two lofty wax flambeaux, which were placed to the back, +and threw a lurid glare upon the group immediately about the body, +consisting of Ranulph Rookwood and some other friends of the deceased. +Dr. Small stood in front of the bier; and, under the directions of Peter +Bradley, the tenantry and household were formed into a wide half-moon +across the chamber. There was a hush of expectation, as Dr. Small looked +gravely round; and even Jack Palmer, who was as little likely as any man +to yield to an impression of the kind, felt himself moved by the scene. + +The very orthodox Small, as is well known to our readers, held +everything savoring of the superstitions of the Scarlet Woman in supreme +abomination; and, entertaining such opinions, it can scarcely be +supposed that a funeral oration would find much favor in his eyes, +accompanied, as it was, with the accessories of censer, candle, and cup; +all evidently derived from that period when, under the three-crowned +pontiff's sway, the shaven priest pronounced his benediction o'er the +dead, and released the penitent's soul from purgatorial flames, while he +heavily mulcted the price of his redemption from the possessions of his +successor. Small resented the idea of treading in such steps, as an +insult to himself and his cloth. Was he, the intolerant of Papistry, to +tolerate this? Was he, who could not endure the odor of Catholicism, to +have his nostrils thus polluted--his garments thus defiled by actual +contact with it? It was not to be thought of: and he had formally +signified his declination to Mr. Coates, when a little conversation with +that gentleman, and certain weighty considerations therein held +forth--the advowson of the church of Rookwood residing with the +family--and represented by him, as well as the placing in juxtaposition +of penalties to be incurred by refusal, that the scruples of Small gave +way; and, with the best grace he could muster, very reluctantly promised +compliance. + +With these feelings, it will be readily conceived that the doctor was +not in the best possible frame of mind for the delivery of his +exhortation. His spirit had been ruffled by a variety of petty +annoyances, amongst the greatest of which was the condition to which the +good cheer had reduced his clerk, Zachariah Trundletext, whose reeling +eye, pendulous position, and open mouth proclaimed him absolutely +incapable of office. Zachariah was, in consequence, dismissed, and Small +commenced his discourse unsupported. But as our recording it would not +probably conduce to the amusement of our readers, whatever it might to +their edification, we shall pass it over with very brief mention. +Suffice it to say, that the oration was so thickly interstrewn with +lengthy quotations from the fathers,--Chrysostomus, Hieronymus, +Ambrosius, Basilius, Bernardus, and the rest, with whose recondite +Latinity, notwithstanding the clashing of their opinions with his own, +the doctor was intimately acquainted, and which he moreover delighted to +quote,--that his auditors were absolutely mystified and perplexed, and +probably not without design. Countenances of such amazement were turned +towards him, that Small, who had a keen sense of the ludicrous, could +scarcely forbear smiling as he proceeded; and if we could suspect so +grave a personage of waggery, we should almost think that, by way of +retaliation, he had palmed some abstruse, monkish epicedium upon his +astounded auditors. + +The oration concluded, biscuits and confectionery were, according to old +observance, handed to such of the tenantry as chose to partake of them. +The serving of the grace-cup, which ought to have formed part of the +duties of Zachariah, had he been capable of office, fell to the share +of the sexton. The bowl was kissed, first by Ranulph, with lips that +trembled with emotion, and afterward by his surrounding friends; but no +drop was tasted--a circumstance which did not escape Peter's +observation. Proceeding to the tenantry, the first in order happened to +be Farmer Toft. Peter presented the cup, and as Toft was about to drain +a deep draught of the wine, Peter whispered in his ear, "Take my advice +for once, Friend Toft, and don't let a bubble of the liquid pass your +lips. For every drop of the wine you drain, Sir Piers will have one sin +the less, and you a load the heavier on your conscience. Didst never +hear of sin-swallowing? For what else was this custom adopted? Seest +thou not the cup's brim hath not yet been moistened? Well, as you +will--ha, ha!" And the sexton passed onwards. + +His work being nearly completed, he looked around for Jack Palmer, whom +he had remarked during the oration, but could nowhere discover him. +Peter was about to place the flagon, now almost drained of its contents, +upon its former resting-place, when Small took it from his hands. + +"_In poculi fundo residuum non relinque_, admonisheth Pythagoras," said +he, returning the empty cup to the sexton. + +"My task here is ended," muttered Peter, "but not elsewhere. Foul +weather or fine, thunder or rain, I must to the church." + +Bequeathing his final instructions to certain of the household who were +to form part of the procession, in case it set out, he opened the hall +door, and, the pelting shower dashing heavily in his face, took his way +up the avenue, screaming, as he strode along, the following congenial +rhymes: + + EPHIALTES + + I ride alone--I ride by night + Through the moonless air on a courser white! + Over the dreaming earth I fly, + Here and there--at my fantasy! + My frame is withered, my visage old, + My locks are frore, and my bones ice cold. + The wolf will howl as I pass his lair, + The ban-dog moan, and the screech-owl stare. + For breath, at my coming, the sleeper strains, + And the freezing current forsakes his veins! + Vainly for pity the wretch may sue-- + Merciless Mara no prayers subdue! + _To his couch I flit-- + On his breast I sit! + Astride! astride! astride! + And one charm alone + --A hollow stone!--[23] + Can scare me from his side!_ + + A thousand antic shapes I take; + The stoutest heart at my touch will quake. + The miser dreams of a bag of gold, + Or a ponderous chest on his bosom rolled. + The drunkard groans 'neath a cask of wine; + The reveller swelts 'neath a weighty chine. + The recreant turns, by his foes assailed, + To flee!--but his feet to the ground are nailed. + The goatherd dreams of his mountain-tops, + And, dizzily reeling, downward drops. + + The murderer feels at his throat a knife, + And gasps, as his victim gasped, for life! + The thief recoils from the scorching brand; + The mariner drowns in sight of land! + Thus sinful man have I power to fray, + Torture, and rack, but not to slay! + But ever the couch of purity, + With shuddering glance, I hurry by. + _Then mount! away! + To horse! I say, + To horse! astride! astride! + The fire-drake shoots-- + The screech-owl hoots-- + As through the air I glide!_ + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_THE CHURCHYARD_ + + Methought I walked, about the mid of night, + Into a churchyard. + + WEBSTER: _The White Devil_. + + +Lights streamed through the chancel window as the sexton entered the +churchyard, darkly defining all the ramified tracery of the noble Gothic +arch, and illumining the gorgeous dyes of its richly-stained glass, +profusely decorated with the armorial bearings of the founder of the +fane, and the many alliances of his descendants. The sheen of their +blazonry gleamed bright in the darkness, as if to herald to his last +home another of the line whose achievements it displayed. Glowing +colorings, checkered like rainbow tints, were shed upon the broken +leaves of the adjoining yew-trees, and upon the rounded grassy tombs. + +Opening the gate, as he looked in that direction, Peter became aware of +a dark figure, enveloped in a large black cloak, and covered with a +slouched hat, standing at some distance, between the window and the +tree, and so intervening as to receive the full influence of the stream +of radiance which served to dilate its almost superhuman stature. The +sexton stopped. The figure remained stationary. There was something +singular both in the costume and situation of the person. Peter's +curiosity was speedily aroused, and, familiar with every inch of the +churchyard, he determined to take the nearest cut, and to ascertain to +whom the mysterious cloak and hat belonged. Making his way over the +undulating graves, and instinctively rounding the headstones that +intercepted his path, he quickly drew near the object of his inquiry. +From the moveless posture it maintained, the figure appeared to be +unconscious of Peter's approach. To his eyes it seemed to expand as he +advanced. He was now almost close upon it, when his progress was +arrested by a violent grasp laid on his shoulder. He started, and +uttered an exclamation of alarm. At this moment a vivid flash of +lightning illumined the whole churchyard, and Peter then thought he +beheld, at some distance from him, two other figures, bearing upon their +shoulders a huge chest, or, it might be, a coffin. The garb of these +figures, so far as it could be discerned through the drenching rain, was +fantastical in the extreme. The foremost seemed to have a long white +beard descending to his girdle. Little leisure, however, was allowed +Peter for observation. The vision no sooner met his glance than it +disappeared, and nothing was seen but the glimmering tombstones--nothing +heard but the whistling wind and the heavily-descending shower. He +rubbed his eyes. The muffled figure had vanished, and not a trace could +be discovered of the mysterious coffin-bearers, if such they were. + +"What have I seen?" mentally ejaculated Peter: "is this sorcery or +treachery, or both? No body-snatchers would visit this place on a night +like this, when the whole neighborhood is aroused. Can it be a vision I +have seen? Pshaw! shall I juggle myself as I deceive these hinds? It was +no bearded demon that I beheld, but the gipsy patrico, Balthazar. I knew +him at once. But what meant that muffled figure; and whose arm could it +have been that griped my shoulder? Ha! what if Lady Rookwood should have +given orders for the removal of Susan's body? No, no; that cannot be. +Besides, I have the keys of the vault; and there are hundreds now in the +church who would permit no such desecration. I am perplexed to think +what it can mean. But I will to the vault." Saying which, he hastened to +the church porch, and after wringing the wet from his clothes, as a +water-dog might shake the moisture from his curly hide, and doffing his +broad felt hat, he entered the holy edifice. The interior seemed one +blaze of light to the sexton, in his sudden transition from outer +darkness. Some few persons were assembled, probably such as were engaged +in the preparations; but there was one group which immediately caught +his attention. + +Near the communion-table stood three persons, habited in deep mourning, +apparently occupied in examining the various monumental carvings that +enriched the walls. Peter's office led him to that part of the church. +About to descend into the vaults, to make the last preparations for the +reception of the dead, with lantern in hand, keys, and a crowbar, he +approached the party. Little attention was paid to the sexton's +proceedings, till the harsh grating of the lock attracted their notice. + +Peter started as he beheld the face of one of the three, and relaxing +his hold upon the key, the strong bolt shot back in the lock. There was +a whisper amongst the party. A light step was heard advancing towards +him; and ere the sexton could sufficiently recover his surprise, or +force open the door, a female figure stood by his side. + +The keen, inquiring stare which Peter bestowed upon the countenance of +the young lady so much abashed her, that she hesitated in her purpose of +addressing him, and hastily retired. + +"She here!" muttered Peter; "nay, then, I must no longer withhold the +dreaded secret from Luke, or Ranulph may, indeed, wrest his possessions +from him." + +Reinforced by her companions, an elderly lady and a tall, handsome man, +whose bearing and deportment bespoke him to be a soldier, the fair +stranger again ventured towards Peter. + +"You are the sexton," said she, addressing him in a voice sweet and +musical. + +"I am," returned Peter. It was harmony succeeded by dissonance. + +"You, perhaps, can tell us, then," said the elderly lady, "whether the +funeral is likely to take place to-night? We thought it possible that +the storm might altogether prevent it." + +"The storm is over, as nearly as maybe," replied Peter. "The body will +soon be on its way. I am but now arrived from the hall." + +"Indeed!" exclaimed the lady. "None of the family will be present, I +suppose. Who is the chief mourner?" + +"Young Sir Ranulph," answered the sexton. "There will be more of the +family than were expected." + +"Is Sir Ranulph returned?" asked the young lady, with great agitation of +manner. "I thought he was abroad--that he was not expected. Are you sure +you are rightly informed?" + +"I parted with him at the hall not ten minutes since," replied Peter. +"He returned from France to-night most unexpectedly." + +"Oh, mother!" exclaimed the younger lady, "that this should be--that I +should meet him here. Why did we come?--let us depart." + +"Impossible!" replied her mother; "the storm forbids it. This man's +information is so strange, I scarce can credit it. Are you sure you have +asserted the truth?" said she, addressing Peter. + +"I am not accustomed to be doubted," answered he. "Other things as +strange have happened at the hall." + +"What mean you?" asked the gentleman, noticing this last remark. + +"You would not need to ask the question of me, had you been there, +amongst the other guests," retorted Peter. "Odd things, I tell you, have +been done there this night, and stranger things may occur before the +morning." + +"You are insolent, sirrah! I comprehend you not." + +"Enough! I can comprehend _you_," replied Peter, significantly; "I know +the count of the mourners invited to this ceremonial, and I am aware +that there are three too many." + +"Know you this saucy knave, mother?" + +"I cannot call him to mind, though I fancy I have seen him before." + +"My recollection serves me better, lady," interposed Peter. "I remember +one who was once the proud heiress of Rookwood--ay, proud and beautiful. +Then the house was filled with her gallant suitors. Swords were crossed +for her. Hearts bled for her. Yet she favored none, until one hapless +hour. Sir Reginald Rookwood _had_ a daughter; Sir Reginald _lost_ a +daughter. Ha!--I see I am right. Well, he is dead and buried; and +Reginald, his son, is dead likewise; and Piers is on his road hither; +and you are the last, as in the course of nature you might have been the +first. And, now that they are all gone, you do rightly to bury your +grievances with them." + +"Silence, sirrah!" exclaimed the gentleman, "or I will beat your brains +out with your own spade." + +"No; let him speak, Vavasour," said the lady, with an expression of +anguish--"he has awakened thoughts of other days." + +"I have done," said Peter, "and must to work. Will you descend with me, +madam, into the sepulchre of your ancestry? All your family lie +within--ay, and the Lady Eleanor, your mother, amongst the number." + +Mrs. Mowbray signified her assent, and the party prepared to follow him. + +The sexton held the lantern so as to throw its light upon the steps as +they entered the gloomy receptacle of the departed. Eleanor half +repented having ventured within its dreary limits, so much did the +appearance of the yawning catacombs, surcharged with mortality, and, +above all, the ghostly figure of the grim knight, affect her with dread, +as she looked wistfully around. She required all the support her +brother's arm could afford her; nor was Mrs. Mowbray altogether unmoved. + +"And all the family are here interred, you say?" inquired the latter. + +"All," replied the sexton. + +"Where, then, lies Sir Reginald's younger brother?" + +"Who?" exclaimed Peter, starting. + +"Alan Rookwood." + +"What of him?" + +"Nothing of moment. But I thought you could, perhaps, inform me. He died +young." + +"He did," replied Peter, in an altered tone--"very young; but not before +he had lived to an old age of wretchedness. Do you know his story, +madam?" + +"I have heard it." + +"From your father's lips?" + +"From Sir Reginald Rookwood's--never. Call him not my father, sirrah; +even _here_ I will not have him named so to me." + +"Your pardon, madam," returned the sexton. "Great cruelty was shown to +the Lady Eleanor, and may well call forth implacable resentment in her +child; yet methinks the wrong he did his brother Alan was the foulest +stain with which Sir Reginald's black soul was dyed." + +"With what particular wrong dost thou charge Sir Reginald?" demanded +Major Mowbray. "What injury did he inflict upon his brother Alan?" + +"He wronged his brother's honor," replied the sexton; "he robbed him of +his wife, poisoned his existence, and hurried him to an untimely grave." + +Eleanor shudderingly held back during this horrible narration, the +hearing of which she would willingly have shunned, had it been possible. + +"Can this be true?" asked the major. + +"Too true, my son," replied Mrs. Mowbray, sorrowfully. + +"And where lies the unfortunate Alan?" asked Major Mowbray. + +"'Twixt two cross roads. Where else should the suicide lie?" + +Evading any further question, Peter hastily traversed the vault, +elevating the light so as to reveal the contents of each cell. One +circumstance filled him with surprise and dismay--he could nowhere +perceive the coffin of his daughter. In vain he peered into every +catacomb--they were apparently undisturbed; and, with much internal +marvelling and misgiving, Peter gave up the search. "That vision is now +explained," muttered he; "the body is removed, but by whom? Death! can I +doubt? It must be Lady Rookwood--who else can have any interest in its +removal. She has acted boldly. But she shall yet have reason to repent +her temerity." As he continued his search, his companions silently +followed. Suddenly he stopped, and, signifying that all was finished, +they not unwillingly quitted this abode of horror, leaving him behind +them. + +"It is a dreadful place," whispered Eleanor to her mother; "nor would I +have visited it, had I conceived anything of its horrors. And that +strange man! who or what is he?" + +"Ay, who is he?" repeated Major Mowbray. + +"I recollect him now," replied Mrs. Mowbray; "he is one who has ever +been connected with the family. He had a daughter, whose beauty was her +ruin: it is a sad tale; I cannot tell it now: you have heard enough of +misery and guilt: but that may account for his bitterness of speech. He +was a dependent upon my poor brother." + +"Poor man!" replied Eleanor; "if he has been unfortunate, I pity him. I +am sorry we have been into that dreadful place. I am very faint: and I +tremble more than ever at the thought of meeting Ranulph Rookwood again. +I can scarcely support myself--I am sure I shall not venture to look +upon him." + +"Had I dreamed of the likelihood of his attending the ceremony, rest +assured, dear Eleanor, we should not have been here: but I was informed +there was no possibility of his return. Compose yourself, my child. It +will be a trying time to both of us; but it is now inevitable." + +At this moment the bell began to toll. "The procession has started," +said Peter, as he passed the Mowbrays. "That bell announces the setting +out." + +"See yonder persons hurrying to the door," exclaimed Eleanor, with +eagerness, and trembling violently. "They are coming. Oh! I shall never +be able to go through with it, dear mother." + +Peter hastened to the church door, where he stationed himself, in +company with a host of others, equally curious. Flickering lights in the +distance, shining like stars through the trees, showed them that the +procession was collecting in front of the hall. The rain had now +entirely ceased; the thunder muttered from afar, and the lightning +seemed only to lick the moisture from the trees. The bell continued to +toll, and its loud booming awoke the drowsy echoes of the valley. On the +sudden, a solitary, startling concussion of thunder was heard; and +presently a man rushed down from the belfry, with the tidings that he +had seen a ball of fire fall from a cloud right over the hall. Every ear +was on the alert for the next sound; none was heard. It was the crisis +of the storm. Still the funeral procession advanced not. The strong +sheen of the torchlight was still visible from the bottom of the avenue, +now disappearing, now brightly glimmering, as if the bearers were +hurrying to and fro amongst the trees. It was evident that much +confusion prevailed, and that some misadventure had occurred. Each man +muttered to his neighbor, and few were there who had not in a measure +surmised the cause of the delay. At this juncture, a person without his +hat, breathless with haste and almost palsied with fright, rushed +through the midst of them and, stumbling over the threshold, fell +headlong into the church. + +"What's the matter, Master Plant? What has happened? Tell us! Tell us!" +exclaimed several voices simultaneously. + +"Lord have mercy upon us!" cried Plant, gasping for utterance, and not +attempting to raise himself. "It's horrible! dreadful! oh!--oh!" + +"What has happened?" inquired Peter, approaching the fallen man. + +"And dost _thou_ need to ask, Peter Bradley? thou, who foretold it all? +but I will not say what I think, though my tongue itches to tell thee +the truth. Be satisfied, thy wizard's lore has served thee right--he is +dead." + +"Who? Ranulph Rookwood? Has anything befallen him, or the prisoner, Luke +Bradley?" asked the sexton, with eagerness. + +A scream here burst forth from one who was standing behind the group; +and, in spite of the efforts of her mother to withhold her, Eleanor +Mowbray rushed forward. + +"Has aught happened to Sir Ranulph?" asked she. + +"Noa--noa--not to Sir Ranulph--he be with the body." + +"Heaven be thanked for that!" exclaimed Eleanor. And then, as if ashamed +of her own vehemence, and, it might seem, apparent indifference to +another's fate, she inquired who was hurt. + +"It be poor neighbor Toft, that be killed by a thunderbolt, ma'am," +replied Plant. + +Exclamations of horror burst from all around. + +No one was more surprised at this intelligence than the sexton. Like +many other seers, he had not, in all probability, calculated upon the +fulfilment of his predictions, and he now stared aghast at the extent of +his own foreknowledge. + +"I tell 'ee what, Master Peter," said Plant, shaking his bullet-head, +"it be well for thee thou didn't live in my grandfather's time, or +thou'dst ha' been ducked in a blanket; or may be burnt at the stake, +like Ridley and Latimer, as we read on--but however that may be, ye +shall hear how poor Toft's death came to pass, and nobody can tell 'ee +better nor I, seeing I were near to him, poor fellow, at the time. Well, +we thought as how the storm were all over--and had all got into order of +march, and were just beginning to step up the avenue, the coffin-bearers +pushing lustily along, and the torches shining grandly, when poor Simon +Toft, who could never travel well in liquor in his life, reeled to one +side, and staggering against the first huge lime-tree, sat himself down +beneath it--thou knowest the tree I mean." + +"The tree of fate," returned Peter. "I ought, methinks, to know it." + +"Well, I were just stepping aside to pick him up, when all at once there +comes such a crack of thunder, and, whizzing through the trees, flashed +a great globe of red fire, so bright and dazzlin', it nearly blinded me; +and when I opened my eyes, winkin' and waterin', I see'd that which +blinded me more even than the flash--that which had just afore been poor +Simon, but which was now a mass o' black smouldering ashes, clean +consumed and destroyed--his clothes rent to a thousand tatters--the +earth and stones tossed up, and scattered all about, and a great +splinter of the tree lying beside him." + +"Heaven's will be done!" said the sexton; "this is an awful judgment." + +"And Sathan cast down; for this is a spice o' his handiwork," muttered +Plant; adding, as he slunk away, "If ever Peter Bradley do come to the +blanket, dang me if I don't lend a helpin' hand." + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_THE FUNERAL_ + + How like a silent stream, shaded by night, + And gliding softly with our windy sighs, + Moves the whole frame of this solemnity! + Tears, sighs, and blacks, filling the simile! + Whilst I, the only murmur in this grove + Of death, thus hollowly break forth. + + _The Fatal Dowry._ + + +Word being given that the funeral train was fast approaching, the church +door was thrown open, and the assemblage divided in two lines, to allow +it admission. + +Meanwhile, a striking change had taken place, even in this brief period, +in the appearance of the night. The sky, heretofore curtained with +darkness, was now illumined by a serene, soft moon, which, floating in a +watery halo, tinged with silvery radiance the edges of a few ghostly +clouds that hurried along the deep and starlit skies. The suddenness of +the change could not fail to excite surprise and admiration, mingled +with regret that the procession had not been delayed until the present +time. + +Slowly and mournfully the train was seen to approach the churchyard, +winding, two by two, with melancholy step, around the corner of the +road. First came Dr. Small; then the mutes, with their sable panoply; +next, the torch-bearers; next, those who sustained the coffin, bending +beneath their ponderous burden, followed by Sir Ranulph and a long line +of attendants, all plainly to be distinguished by the flashing +torchlight. There was a slight halt at the gate, and the coffin changed +supporters. + +"Ill luck betide them!" ejaculated Peter; "could they find no other +place except that to halt at? Must Sir Piers be gatekeeper till next +Yule! No," added he, seeing what followed; "it will be poor Toft, after +all." + +Following close upon the coffin came a rude shell, containing, as Peter +rightly conjectured, the miserable remains of Simon Toft, who had met +his fate in the manner described by Plant. The bolt of death glanced +from the tree which it first struck, and reduced the unfortunate farmer +to a heap of dust. Universal consternation prevailed, and doubts were +entertained as to what course should be pursued. It was judged best by +Dr. Small to remove the remains at once to the charnel-house. Thus +"unanointed, unaneled, with all his imperfections on his head," was poor +Simon Toft, in one brief second, in the twinkling of an eye, plunged +from the height of festivity to the darkness of the grave, and so +horribly disfigured, that scarce a vestige of humanity was discernible +in the mutilated mass that remained of him. Truly may we be said to walk +in blindness, and amidst deep pitfalls. + +The churchyard was thronged by the mournful train. The long array of +dusky figures--the waving torchlight gleaming ruddily in the white +moonshine--now glistening upon the sombre habiliments of the bearers, +and on their shrouded load, now reflected upon the jagged branches of +the yew-trees, or falling upon the ivied buttresses of the ancient +church, constituted no unimpressive picture. Over all, like a lamp hung +in the still sky, shone the moon, shedding a soothing, spiritual lustre +over the scene. + +The organ broke into a solemn strain as the coffin was borne along the +mid-aisle--the mourners following, with reverent step, and slow. It was +deposited near the mouth of the vault, the whole assemblage circling +around it. Dr. Small proceeded with the performance of that magnificent +service appointed for the burial of the dead, in a tone as remarkable +for its sadness as for its force and fervor. There was a tear in every +eye--a cloud on every brow. + +Brightly illumined as was the whole building, there were still some +recesses which, owing to the intervention of heavy pillars, were thrown +into shade; and in one of these, supported by her mother and brother, +stood Eleanor, a weeping witness of the scene. She beheld the coffin +silently borne along; she saw one dark figure slowly following; she knew +those pale features--oh, how pale they were! A year had wrought a +fearful alteration; she could scarce credit what she beheld. He must, +indeed, have suffered--deeply suffered; and her heart told her that his +sorrows had been for her. + +Many a wistful look, besides, was directed to the principal figure in +this ceremonial, Ranulph Rookwood. He was a prey to unutterable anguish +of soul; his heart bled inwardly for the father he had lost. +Mechanically following the body down the aisle, he had taken his station +near it, gazing with confused vision upon the bystanders; had listened, +with a sad composure, to the expressive delivery of Small, until he +read--"_For man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in +vain; he heapeth up riches, and cannot tell who shall gather them._" + +"Verily!" exclaimed a deep voice; and Ranulph, looking round, met the +eyes of Peter Bradley fixed full upon him. But it was evidently not the +sexton who had spoken. + +Small continued the service. He arrived at this verse: "_Thou hast set +our misdeeds before thee; and our secret sins in the light of thy +countenance._" + +"Even so!" exclaimed the voice; and as Ranulph raised his eyes in the +direction of the sound, he thought he saw a dark figure, muffled in a +cloak, disappear behind one of the pillars. He bestowed, however, at the +moment, little thought upon this incident. His heart melted within him; +and leaning his face upon his hand, he wept aloud. + +"Command yourself, I entreat of you, my dear Sir Ranulph," said Dr. +Small, as soon as the service was finished, "and suffer this melancholy +ceremonial to be completed." Saying which, he gently withdrew Ranulph +from his support, and the coffin was lowered into the vault. + +Ranulph remained for some time in the extremity of sorrow. When he in +part recovered, the crowd had dispersed, and few persons were remaining +within the church; yet near him stood three apparent loiterers. They +advanced towards him. An exclamation of surprise and joy burst from his +lips. + +"Eleanor!" + +"Ranulph!" + +"Is it possible? Do I indeed behold you, Eleanor?" + +No other word was spoken. They rushed into each other's arms. Oh! +sad--sad is the lover's parting--no pang so keen; but if life hath a +zest more exquisite than others--if felicity hath one drop more racy +than the rest in her honeyed cup, it is the happiness enjoyed in such a +union as the present. To say that he was as one raised from the depths +of misery by some angel comforter, were a feeble comparison of the +transport of Ranulph. To paint the thrilling delight of Eleanor--the +trembling tenderness--the fond abandonment which vanquished all her +maiden scruples, would be impossible. Reluctantly yielding--fearing, yet +complying, her lips were sealed in one long, loving kiss, the +sanctifying pledge of their tried affection. + +"Eleanor, dear Eleanor," exclaimed Ranulph, "though I hold you within my +arms--though each nerve within my frame assures me of your +presence--though I look into those eyes, which seem fraught with greater +endearment than ever I have known them wear--though I see and feel and +know all this, so sudden, so unlooked for is the happiness, that I could +almost doubt its reality. Say to what blessed circumstance I am indebted +for this unlooked-for happiness." + +"We are staying not far hence, with friends, dear Ranulph; and my +mother, hearing of Sir Piers Rookwood's death, and wishing to bury all +animosity with him, resolved to be present at the sad ceremony. We were +told you could not be here." + +"And would my presence have prevented your attendance, Eleanor?" + +"Not that, dear Ranulph; but----" + +"But what?" + +At this moment the advance of Mrs. Mowbray offered an interruption to +their further discourse. + +"My son and I appear to be secondary in your regards, Sir Ranulph," said +she, gravely. + +"_Sir_ Ranulph!" mentally echoed the young man. "What will _she_ think +when she knows that that title is not mine? I dread to tell her." He +then added aloud, with a melancholy smile, "I crave your pardon, madam; +the delight of a meeting so unexpected with your daughter must plead my +apology." + +"None is wanting, Sir Ranulph," said Major Mowbray. "I who have known +what separation from my sister is, can readily excuse your feelings. But +you look ill." + +"I have, indeed, experienced much mental anxiety," said Ranulph, looking +at Eleanor; "it is now past, and I would fain hope that a brighter day +is dawning." His heart answered, 'twas but a hope. + +"You were unlooked for here to-night, Sir Ranulph," said Mrs. Mowbray; +"by us, at least: we were told you were abroad." + +"You were rightly informed, madam," replied Ranulph. "I only arrived +this evening from Bordeaux." + +"I am glad you are returned. We are at present on a visit with your +neighbors, the Davenhams, at Braybrook, and trust we shall see you +there." + +"I will ride over to-morrow," replied Ranulph; "there is much on which I +would consult you all. I would have ventured to request the favor of +your company at Rookwood, had the occasion been other than the present." + +"And I would willingly have accepted your invitation," returned Mrs. +Mowbray; "I should like to see the old house once more. During your +father's lifetime I could not approach it. You are lord of broad lands, +Sir Ranulph--a goodly inheritance." + +"Madam!" + +"And a proud title, which you will grace well, I doubt not. The first, +the noblest of our house, was he from whom you derive your name. You are +the third Sir Ranulph; the first founded the house of Rookwood; the next +advanced it; 'tis for you to raise its glory to its height." + +"Alas! madam, I have no such thought." + +"Wherefore not? you are young, wealthy, powerful. With such domains as +those of Rookwood--with such a title as its lord can claim, naught +should be too high for your aspirations." + +"I aspire to nothing, madam, but your daughter's hand; and even that I +will not venture to solicit until you are acquainted with----" And he +hesitated. + +"With what?" asked Mrs. Mowbray, in surprise. + +"A singular, and to me most perplexing event has occurred to-night," +replied Ranulph, "which may materially affect my future fortunes." + +"Indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray. "Does it relate to your mother?" + +"Excuse my answering the question now, madam," replied Ranulph; "you +shall know all to-morrow." + +"Ay, to-morrow, dear Ranulph," said Eleanor; "and whatever that morrow +may bring forth, it will bring happiness to me, if you are bearer of the +tidings." + +"I shall expect your coming with impatience," said Mrs. Mowbray. + +"And I," added Major Mowbray, who had listened thus far in silence, +"would offer you my services in any way you think they would be useful. +Command me as you think fitting." + +"I thank you heartily," returned Ranulph. "To-morrow you shall learn +all. Meanwhile, it shall be my business to investigate the truth or +falsehood of the statement I have heard, ere I report it to you. Till +then, farewell." + +As they issued from the church it was gray dawn. Mrs. Mowbray's carriage +stood at the door. The party entered it; and accompanied by Dr. Small, +whom he found within in the vestry, Ranulph walked towards the hall, +where a fresh surprise awaited him. + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_THE CAPTIVE_ + + _Black Will._ Which is the place where we're to be concealed? + + _Green._ This inner room. + + _Black Will._ 'Tis well. The word is, "Now I take you." + + _Arden of Feversham._ + + +Guarded by the two young farmers who had displayed so much address in +seizing him, Luke, meanwhile, had been conveyed in safety to the small +chamber in the eastern wing, destined by Mr. Coates to be his place of +confinement for the night. The room, or rather closet, opening from +another room, was extremely well adapted for the purpose, having no +perceptible outlet; being defended, on either side, by thick partition +walls of the hardest oak, and at the extremity by the solid masonry of +the mansion. It was, in fact, a remnant of the building anterior to the +first Sir Ranulph's day; and the narrow limits of Luke's cell had been +erected long before the date of his earliest progenitor. Having seen +their prisoner safely bestowed, the room was carefully examined, every +board sounded, every crevice and corner peered into by the curious eye +of the little lawyer; and nothing being found insecure, the light was +removed, the door locked, the rustic constables dismissed, and a brace +of pistols having been loaded and laid on the table, Mr. Coates +pronounced himself thoroughly satisfied and quite comfortable. + +Comfortable! Titus heaved a sigh as he echoed the word. He felt anything +but comfortable. His heart was with the body all the while. He thought +of the splendor of the funeral, the torches, the illumined church, his +own dignified march down the aisle, and the effect he expected to +produce amongst the bewildered rustics. He thought of all these things, +and cursed Luke by all the saints in the calendar. The sight of the +musty old apartment, hung round with faded arras, which, as he said, +"smelt of nothing but rats and ghosts, and suchlike varmint," did not +serve to inspirit him; and the proper equilibrium of his temper was not +completely restored until the appearance of the butler, with all the +requisites for the manufacture of punch, afforded him some prospective +solace. + +"And what are they about now, Tim?" asked Titus. + +"All as jolly as can be," answered the domestic; "Dr. Small is just +about to pronounce the funeral 'ration." + +"Devil take it," ejaculated Titus, "there's another miss! Couldn't I +just slip out, and hear that?" + +"On no account," said Coates. "Consider, Sir Ranulph is there." + +"Well, well," rejoined Titus, heaving a deep sigh, and squeezing a +lemon; "are you sure this is _biling_ water, Tim? You know, I'm mighty +particular." + +"Perfectly aware of it, sir." + +"Ah, Tim, do you recollect the way I used to brew for poor Sir Piers, +with a bunch of red currants at the bottom of the glass? And then to +think that, after all, I should be left out of his funeral--it's the +height of barbarity. Tim, this rum of yours is poor stuff--there's no +punch worth the trouble of drinking, except whisky-punch. A glass of +right potheen, straw-color, peat-flavor, ten degrees over proof, would +be the only thing to drown my cares. Any such thing in the cellar? There +used to be an odd bottle or so, Tim--in the left bin, near the door." + +"I've a notion there be," returned Timothy. "I'll try the bin your +honor mentions, and if I can lay hands upon a bottle you shall have it, +you may depend." + +The butler departed, and Titus, emulating Mr. Coates, who had already +enveloped himself, like Juno at the approach of Ixion, in a cloud, +proceeded to light his pipe. + +Luke, meanwhile, had been left alone, without light. He had much to +meditate upon, and with naught to check the current of his thoughts, he +pensively revolved his present situation and future prospects. The +future was gloomy enough--the present fraught with danger. And now that +the fever of excitement was passed, he severely reproached himself for +his precipitancy. + +His mind, by degrees, assumed a more tranquil state; and, exhausted with +his great previous fatigue, he threw himself upon the floor of his +prison-house, and addressed himself to slumber. The noise he made +induced Coates to enter the room, which he did with a pistol in each +hand, followed by Titus with a pipe and candle; but finding all safe the +sentinels retired. + +"One may see, with half an eye, that you're not used to a feather-bed, +my friend," said Titus, as the door was locked. "By the powers, he's a +tall chap, anyhow--why his feet almost touch the door. I should say that +room was a matter of six feet long, Mr. Coates." + +"Exactly six feet, sir." + +"Well, that's a good guess. Hang that ugly rascal, Tim; he's never +brought the whisky. But I'll be even with him to-morrow. Couldn't you +just see to the prisoner for ten minutes, Mr. Coates?" + +"Not ten seconds. I shall report you, if you stir from your post." + +Here the door was opened, and Tim entered with the whisky. + +"Arrah! by my soul, Tim, and here you are at last--uncork it, man, and +give us a thimbleful--blob! there goes the stopper--here's a +glass"--smacking his lips--"whist, Tim, another drop--stuff like this +will never hurt a body. Mr. Coates, try it--no--I thought you'd be a man +of more taste." + +"I must limit you to a certain quantity," replied Coates, "or you will +not be fit to keep guard--another glass must be the extent of your +allowance." + +"Another glass! and do you think I'll submit to any such iniquitous +proposition?" + +"Beg pardon, gentlemen," said Tim, "but her ladyship desires me to tell +you both, that she trusts you will keep the strictest watch upon the +prisoner. I have the same message also from Sir Ranulph." + +"Do you hear that?" said Coates. + +"And what are they all about now, Tim?" groaned Titus. + +"Just starting, sir," returned Tim; "and, indeed, I must not lose my +time gossiping here, for I be wanted below. You must be pleased to take +care of yourselves, gentlemen, for an hour or so, for there will be only +a few women-kind left in the house. The storm's just over, and the men +are all lighting their torches. Oh, it's a grand sight!" And off set +Tim. + +"Bad luck to myself, anyhow," ejaculated Titus; "this is more than I can +bear--I've had enough of this watch and ward business--if the prisoner +stirs, shoot him, if you think proper--I'll be back in an hour." + +"I tell you what, Mr. Tyrconnel," said Coates, coolly taking up the +pistol from the table, "I'm a man of few words, but those few are, I +hope, to the purpose, and I'd have you to know if you stir from that +chair, or attempt to leave the room, damme but I'll send a brace of +bullets after you. I'm serious, I assure you." And he cocked the pistol. + +By way of reply to this menace, Titus deliberately filled a stiff glass +of whisky-and-water. + +"That's your last glass," said the inexorable Coates. + +To return once more to Luke. He slept uneasily for some short space, +and was awakened by a sound which reached his dreaming ears and +connected itself with the visions that slumber was weaving around him. +It was some moments before he could distinctly remember where he was. He +would not venture to sleep again, though he felt overwhelmed by +drowsiness--there was a fixed pain at his heart, as if circulation were +suspended. Changing his posture, he raised himself upon one arm; he then +became aware of a scratching noise, somewhat similar to the sound he had +heard in his dream, and perceived a light gleaming through a crevice in +the oaken partition. His attention was immediately arrested, and placing +his eye close to the chink, he distinctly saw a dark lantern burning, +and by its light a man filing some implement of housebreaking. The light +fell before the hard features of the man, with whose countenance Luke +was familiar; and although only one person came within the scope of his +view, Luke could make out, from a muttered conversation that was carried +on, that he had a companion. The parties were near to him, and though +speaking in a low tone, Luke's quick ear caught the following: + +"What keeps Jack Palmer, I wonder?" said he of the file. "We're all +ready for the fakement--pops primed--and I tell you what, Rob Rust, I've +made my clasp-knife as sharp as a razor, and damme, if Lady Rookwood +offers any resistance, I'll spoil her talking in future, I promise you." + +Suppressed laughter from Rust followed this speech. That laugh made +Luke's blood run cold within his veins. + +"Harkee, Dick Wilder, you're a reg'lar out-and-outer, and stops at +nothing, and curse me if I'd think any more of it than yourself. But +Jack's as squeamish of bloodshed as young Miss that cries at her cut +finger. It's the safer plan. Say what you will, nothing but _that_ will +stop a woman's tongue." + +"I shall make short work with her ladyship to-night, anyhow. Hist! here +Jack comes." + +A footstep crossed in the room, and, presently afterwards, exclamations +of surprise and smothered laughter were heard from the parties. + +"Bravo, Jack! famous! that disguise would deceive the devil himself." + +"And now, my lads," said the newcomer, "is all right?" + +"Right and tight." + +"Nothing forgotten?" + +"Nothing." + +"Then off with your stamps, and on with your list slippers; not a word. +Follow me, and, for your lives, don't move a step but as I direct you. +The word must be, '_Sir Piers Rookwood calls_.' We'll overhaul the swag +here. This crack may make us all for life; and if you'll follow my +directions implicitly, we'll do the trick in style. This slum must be +our rendezvous when all's over; for hark ye, my lads, I'll not budge an +inch till Luke Bradley be set free. He's an old friend, and I always +stick by old friends. I'd do the same for one of you if you were in the +same scrape, so, damn you, no flinching; besides, I owe that +spider-shanked, snivelling split-cause Coates, who stands sentry, a +grudge, and I'll pay him off, as Paul did the Ephesians. You may crop +his ears, or slit his tongue as you would a magpie's, or any other +chattering varmint; make him sign his own testament, or treat him with a +touch of your _Habeas Corpus_ Act, if you think proper, or give him a +taste of blue plumb. One thing only I stipulate, that you don't hurt +that fat, mutton-headed Broganeer, whatever he may say or do; he's a +devilish good fellow. And now to business." + +Saying which, they noiselessly departed. But carefully as the door was +closed, Luke's ear could detect the sound. His blood boiled with +indignation; and he experienced what all must have felt who have been +similarly situated, with the will, but not the power, to assist +another--a sensation almost approaching to torture. At this moment a +distant scream burst upon his ears--another--he hesitated no longer. +With all his force he thundered at the door. + +"What do you want, rascal?" cried Coates, from without. + +"There are robbers in the house." + +"Thank you for the information. There is one I know of already." + +"Fool, they are in Lady Rookwood's room. Run to her assistance." + +"A likely story, and leave you here." + +"Do you hear that scream?" + +"Eh, what--what's that? I do hear something." Here Luke dashed with all +his force against the door. It yielded to the blow, and he stood before +the astonished attorney. + +"Advance a footstep, villain," exclaimed Coates, presenting both his +pistols, "and I lodge a brace of balls in your head." + +"Listen to me," said Luke; "the robbers are in Lady Rookwood's +chamber--they will plunder the place of everything--perhaps murder her. +Fly to her assistance, I will accompany you--assist you--it is your only +chance." + +"_My_ only chance--_your_ only chance. Do you take me for a greenhorn? +This is a poor subterfuge; could you not have vamped up something +better? Get back to your own room, or I shall make no more of shooting +you than I would of snuffing that candle." + +"Be advised, sir," continued Luke. "There are three of them--give me a +pistol, and fear nothing." + +"Give _you_ a pistol! Ha, ha!--to be its mark myself. You are an amusing +rascal, I will say." + +"Sir, I tell you not a moment is to be lost. Is life nothing? Lady +Rookwood may be murdered." + +"I tell _you_, once for all, it won't do. Go back to your room, or take +the consequences." + +"By the powers! but it shall do, anyhow," exclaimed Titus, flinging +himself upon the attorney, and holding both his arms; "you've bullied me +long enough. I'm sure the lad's in the right." + +Luke snatched the pistols from the hands of Coates. + +"Very well, Mr. Tyrconnel; very well, sir," cried the attorney, boiling +with wrath, and spluttering out his words. "Extremely well, sir. You are +not perhaps aware, sir, what you have done; but you will repent this, +sir--repent, I say--repent was my word, Mr. Tyrconnel." + +"Poh!--poh!" replied Titus. "I shall never repent a good-natured +action." + +"Follow me," cried Luke; "settle your disputes hereafter. Quick, or we +shall be too late." + +Coates bustled after him, and Titus, putting the neck of the forbidden +whisky bottle to his lips, and gulping down a hasty mouthful, snatched +up a rusty poker, and followed the party with more alacrity than might +have been expected from so portly a personage. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI_ + +_THE APPARITION_ + + _Gibbet._ Well, gentlemen, 'tis a fine night for our enterprise. + + _Hounslow._ Dark as hell. + + _Bagshot._ And blows like the devil. + + _Boniface._ You'll have no creature to deal with but the ladies. + + _Gibbet._ And I can assure you, friend, there's a great deal of + address, and good manners, in robbing a lady. I am the most of a + gentleman, that way, that ever travelled the road. + + _Beaux Stratagem._ + + +Accompanied by her son, Lady Rookwood, on quitting the chamber of the +dead, returned to her own room. She then renewed all her arguments; had +recourse to passionate supplications--to violent threats, but without +effect. Ranulph maintained profound silence. Passion, as it ever doth, +defeated its own ends; and Lady Rookwood, seeing the ill effect her +anger would probably produce, gradually softened the asperity of her +manner, and suffered him to depart. + +Left to herself, and to the communings of her own troubled spirit, her +fortitude, in a measure, forsook her, under the pressure of the +difficulties by which she was environed. There was no plan she could +devise--no scheme adopt, unattended with peril. She must act alone--with +promptitude and secrecy. To win her son over was her chief desire, and +that, at all hazards, she was resolved to do. But how? She knew of only +one point on which he was vulnerable--his love for Eleanor Mowbray. By +raising doubts in his mind, and placing fresh difficulties in his path, +she might compel him to acquiesce in her machinations, as a necessary +means of accomplishing his own object. This she hoped to effect. Still +there was a depth of resolution in the placid stream of Ranulph's +character which she had often noticed with apprehension. Aware of his +firmness, she dreaded lest his sense of justice should be stronger than +his passion. + +As she wove these webs of darkness, fear, hitherto unknown, took +possession of her soul. She listened to the howling of the wind--to the +vibration of the rafters--to the thunder's roar, and to the hissing +rain--till she, who never trembled at the thought of danger, became +filled with vague uneasiness. Lights were ordered; and when her old +attendant returned. Lady Rookwood fixed a look so wistful upon her, that +Agnes ventured to address her. + +"Bless you, my lady," said the ancient handmaiden, trembling, "you look +very pale, and no wonder. I feel sick at heart, too. Oh! I shall be glad +when they return from the church, and happier still when the morning +dawns. I can't sleep a wink--can't close my eyes, but I think of him." + +"Of _him_?" + +"Of Sir Piers, my lady; for though he's dead, I don't think he's gone." + +"How?" + +"Why, my lady, the corruptible part of him's gone, sure enough. But the +incorruptible, as Dr. Small calls it--the sperrit, my lady. It might be +my fancy, your ladyship; but as I'm standing here, when I went back into +the room just now for the lights, as I hope to live, I thought I saw Sir +Piers in the room." + +"You are crazed, Agnes." + +"No, my lady, I'm not crazed; it was mere fancy, no doubt. Oh, it's a +blessed thing to live with an easy conscience--a thrice blessed thing to +_die_ with an easy one, and that's what I never shall, I'm afeard. Poor +Sir Piers! I'd mumble a prayer for him, if I durst." + +"Leave me," said Lady Rookwood, impatiently. + +And Agnes quitted the room. + +"What if the dead can return?" thought Lady Rookwood. "All men doubt it, +yet all men believe it. _I_ would not believe it, were there not a +creeping horror that overmasters me, when I think of the state beyond +the grave--that intermediate state, for such it must be, when the body +lieth mouldering in the ground, and the soul survives, to wander, +unconfined, until the hour of doom. And doth the soul survive when +disenthralled? Is it dependent on the body? Does it perish with the +body? These are doubts I cannot resolve. But if I deemed there was no +future state, this hand should at once liberate me from my own +weaknesses--my fears--my life. There is but one path to acquire that +knowledge, which, once taken, can never be retraced. I am content to +live--while living, to be feared--it may be, hated; when dead, to be +contemned--yet still remembered. Ha! what sound was that? A stifled +scream! Agnes!--without there! She is full of fears. I am not free from +them myself, but I will shake them off. This will divert their channel," +continued she, drawing from her bosom the marriage certificate. "This +will arouse the torpid current of my blood--'_Piers Rookwood to Susan +Bradley_.' And by whom was it solemnized? The name is Checkley--Richard +Checkley. Ha! I bethink me--a Papist priest--a recusant--who was for +some time an inmate of the hall. I have heard of this man--he was +afterwards imprisoned, but escaped--he is either dead or in a foreign +land. No witnesses--'tis well! Methinks Sir Piers Rookwood did well to +preserve this. It shall light his funeral pyre. Would he could now +behold me, as I consume it!" + +She held the paper in the direction of the candle; but, ere it could +touch the flame, it dropped from her hand. As if her horrible wish had +been granted, before her stood the figure of her husband! Lady Rookwood +started not. No sign of trepidation or alarm, save the sudden stiffening +of her form, was betrayed. Her bosom ceased to palpitate--her +respiration stopped--her eyes were fixed upon the apparition. + +The figure appeared to regard her sternly. It was at some little +distance, within the shade cast by the lofty bedstead. Still she could +distinctly discern it. There was no ocular deception; it was attired in +the costume Sir Piers was wont to wear--a hunting dress. All that her +son had told her rushed to her recollection. The phantom advanced. Its +countenance was pale, and wore a gloomy frown. + +"What would you destroy?" demanded the apparition, in a hollow tone. + +"The evidence of----" + +"What?" + +"Your marriage." + +"With yourself, accursed woman?" + +"With Susan Bradley." + +"What's that I hear?" shouted the figure, in an altered tone. "Married +to her! then Luke _is_ legitimate, and heir to this estate!" Whereupon +the apparition rushed to the table, and laid a very substantial grasp +upon the document. "A marriage certificate!" ejaculated the spectre; +"here's a piece of luck! It ain't often in our lottery life we draw a +prize like this. One way or the other, it must turn up a few cool +thousands." + +"Restore that paper, villain," exclaimed Lady Rookwood, recovering all +the audacity natural to her character the instant she discovered the +earthly nature of the intruder--"restore it, or, by Heaven, you shall +rue your temerity." + +"Softly, softly," replied the pseudo-phantom, with one hand pushing back +the lady, while the other conveyed the precious document to the custody +of his nether man--"softly," said he, giving the buckskin pocket a +slap--"two words to that, my lady. I know its value as well as yourself, +and must make my market. The highest offer has me, your ladyship; he's +but a poor auctioneer that knocks down his ware when only one bidder is +present. Luke Bradley, or, as I find he now is, Sir Luke Rookwood, may +come down more handsomely." + +"Who are you, ruffian, and to what end is this masquerade assumed? If +for the purpose of terrifying me into compliance with the schemes of +that madman, Luke Bradley, whom I presume to be your confederate, your +labor is misspent--your stolen disguise has no more weight with me than +his forged claims." + +"Forged claims! Egad, he must be a clever hand to have forged that +certificate. Your ladyship, however, is in error. Sir Luke Rookwood is +no associate of mine; I am his late father's friend. But I have no time +to bandy talk. What money have you in the house? Be alive." + +"You _are_ a robber, then?" + +"Not I. I'm a tax-gatherer--a collector of Rich-Rates--ha, ha! What +plate have you got? Nay, don't be alarmed--take it quietly--these things +can't be helped--better make up your mind to do it without more +ado--much the best plan--no screaming, it may injure your lungs, and can +alarm nobody. Your maids have done as much before--it's beneath your +dignity to make so much noise. So, you will not heed me? As you will." +Saying which, he deliberately cut the bell-cord, and drew out a brace of +pistols at the same time. + +"Agnes!" shrieked Lady Rookwood, now seriously alarmed. + +"I must caution your ladyship to be silent," said the robber, who, as +our readers will no doubt have already conjectured, was no other than +the redoubted Jack Palmer. "Agnes is already disposed of," said he, +cocking a pistol. "However like your deceased 'lord and master' I may +appear, you will find you have got a very different spirit from that of +Sir Piers to deal with. I am naturally the politest man breathing--have +been accounted the best-bred man on the road by every lady whom I have +had the honor of addressing; and I should be sorry to sully my +well-earned reputation by anything like rudeness. I must use a little +force, of the gentlest kind. Perhaps you will permit me to hand you to a +chair. Bless me! what a wrist your ladyship has got. Excuse me if I hurt +you, but you are so devilish strong. What ho! 'Sir Piers Rookwood +calls--'" + +"Ready," cried a voice. + +"That's the word," rejoined another; "ready;" and immediately two men, +their features entirely hidden by a shroud of black crape, accoutred in +rough attire, and each armed with pistols, rushed into the room. + +"Lend a hand," said Jack. + +Even in this perilous extremity Lady Rookwood's courage did not desert +her. Anticipating their purpose, ere her assailants could reach her she +extricated herself from Palmer's grasp, and rushed upon the foremost so +unexpectedly, that, before the man could seize her, she snatched a +pistol from his hand, and presented it at the group with an aspect like +that of a tigress at bay--her eye wandering from one to the other, as if +selecting a mark. + +There was a pause of a few seconds, in which the men glanced at the +lady, and then at their leader. Jack looked blank. + +"Hem!" said he, coolly; "this is something new--disarmed--defied by a +petticoat. Hark ye, Rob Rust, the disgrace rests with you. Clear your +character, by securing her at once. What! afraid of a woman?" + +"A woman!" repeated Rust, in a surly tone; "devilish like a woman, +indeed. Few men could do what she has done. Give the word, and I fire. +As to seizing her, that's more than I'll engage to do." + +"You are a coward," cried Jack. "I will steer clear of blood--if I can +help it. Come, madam, surrender, like the more sensible part of your +sex, at discretion. You will find resistance of no avail." And he +stepped boldly towards her. + +Lady Rookwood pulled the trigger. The pistol flashed in the pan. She +flung away the useless weapon without a word. + +"Ha, ha!" said Jack, as he leisurely stooped to pick up the pistol, and +approached her ladyship; "the bullet is not yet cast that is to be my +billet. Here," said he, dealing Rust a heavy thump upon the shoulder +with the butt-end of the piece, "take back your snapper, and look you +prick the touchhole, or your barking-iron will never bite for you. And +now, madam, I must take the liberty of again handing you to a seat. Dick +Wilder, the cord--quick. It distresses me to proceed to such lengths +with your ladyship--but safe bind, safe find, as Mr. Coates would say." + +"You will not bind me, ruffian." + +"Your ladyship is very much mistaken--I have no alternative--your +ladyship's wrist is far too dexterous to be at liberty. I must +furthermore request of your ladyship to be less vociferous--you +interrupt business, which should be transacted with silence and +deliberation." + +Lady Rookwood's rage and vexation at this indignity were beyond all +bounds. Resistance, however, was useless, and she submitted in silence. +The cord was passed tightly round her arms, when it flashed upon her +recollection for the first time that Coates and Tyrconnel, who were in +charge of her captive in the lower corridor, might be summoned to her +assistance. This idea no sooner crossed her mind than she uttered a loud +and prolonged scream. + +"'Sdeath!" cried Jack; "civility is wasted here. Give me the gag, Rob." + +"Better slit her squeaking-pipe at once," replied Rust, drawing his +clasped knife; "she'll thwart everything." + +"The gag, I say, not _that_." + +"I can't find the gag," exclaimed Wilder, savagely. "Leave Rob Rust to +manage her--he'll silence her, I warrant you, while you and I rummage +the room." + +"Ay, leave her to me," said the other miscreant. "Go about your +business, and take no heed. Her hands are fast--she can't scratch. I'll +do it with a single gash--send her to join her lord, whom she loved so +well, before he's under ground. They'll have something to see when they +come home from the master's funeral--their mistress _cut and dry_ for +another. Ho, ho!" + +"Mercy, mercy!" shrieked Lady Rookwood. + +"Ay, ay, I'll be merciful," said Rust, brandishing his knife before her +eyes. "I'll not be long about it. Leave her to me--I'll give her a taste +of Sir Sydney." + +"No, no, Rust; no bloodshed," said Jack, authoritatively; "I'll find +some other way to gag the jade." + +At this moment a noise of rapid footsteps was heard within the passage. + +"Assistance comes," screamed Lady Rookwood. "Help! help!" + +"To the door!" cried Jack. The words were scarcely out of his mouth +before Luke dashed into the room, followed by Coates and Tyrconnel. + +Palmer and his companions levelled their pistols at the intruders, and +the latter would have fired, but Jack's keen eye having discerned Luke +amongst the foremost, checked further hostilities for the present. Lady +Rookwood, meanwhile, finding herself free from restraint, rushed towards +her deliverers, and crouched beneath Luke's protecting arms, which were +extended, pistol in hand, over her head. Behind them stood Titus +Tyrconnel, flourishing the poker, and Mr. Coates, who, upon the sight of +so much warlike preparation, began somewhat to repent having rushed so +precipitately into the lion's den. + +"Luke Bradley!" exclaimed Palmer, stepping forward. + +"Luke Bradley!" echoed Lady Rookwood, recoiling and staring into his +face. + +"Fear nothing, madam," cried Luke. "I am here to assist you--I will +defend you with my life." + +"_You_ defend _me_!" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, doubtfully. + +"Even _I_," cried Luke, "strange as it may sound." + +"Holy powers protect me!" ejaculated Titus. "As I live, it is Sir Piers +himself." + +"Sir Piers!" echoed Coates, catching the infection of terror, as he +perceived Palmer more distinctly. "What! is the dead come to life again? +A ghost, a ghost!" + +"By my soul," cried Titus, "it's the first ghost I ever heard of that +committed a burglary in its own house, and on the night of the body's +burial, too. But who the devil are these? maybe they're ghosts +likewise." + +"They are," said Palmer, in a hollow tone, mimicking the voice of Sir +Piers, "attendant spirits. We are come for this woman; her time is out; +so no more palavering, Titus. Lend a hand to take her to the churchyard, +and be hanged to you." + +"Upon my conscience, Mr. Coates," cried Titus, "it's either the devil, +or Sir Piers. We'll be only in the way here. He's only just settling his +old scores with his lady. I thought it would come to this long ago. We'd +best beat a retreat." + +Jack took advantage of the momentary confusion created by this +incidental alarm at his disguise to direct Rust towards the door by +which the new comers had entered; and, this being accomplished, he burst +into a loud laugh. + +"What! not know me?" cried he--"not know your old friend with a new +face, Luke? Nor you, Titus? Nor you, who can see through a millstone, +lawyer Coates, don't you recognize----" + +"Jack Palmer, as I'm a sinner!" cried Titus. "Why, this beats Banaghan. +Arrah! Jack, honey, what does this mean? Is it yourself I see in such +company? You're not robbing in earnest?" + +"Indeed but I am, friend Titus," exclaimed Jack; "and _it is_ my own +self you see. I just took the liberty of borrowing Sir Piers's old +hunting-coat from the justice-room. You said my toggery wouldn't do for +the funeral. I'm no other than plain Jack Palmer, after all." + +"With half a dozen aliases at your back, I dare say," cried Coates. "_I_ +suspected you all along. All your praise of highwaymen was not lost upon +me. No, no; I _can_ see into a millstone, be it ever so thick." + +"Well," replied Jack, "I'm sorry to see you here, friend Titus. Keep +quiet, and you shall come to no harm. As to you, Luke Bradley, you have +anticipated my intention by half an hour; I meant to set you free. For +you, Mr. Coates, you may commit all future care of your affairs to your +executors, administrators, and assigns. You will have no further need to +trouble yourself with worldly concerns," added he, levelling a pistol at +the attorney, who, however, shielded himself, in an agony of +apprehension, behind Luke's person. "Stand aside, Luke." + +"I stir not," replied Luke. "I thank you for your good intention, and +will not injure you--that is, if you do not force me to do so. I am here +to defend her ladyship." + +"What's that you say?" returned Jack, in surprise--"_defend_ her +ladyship?" + +"With my life," replied Luke. "Let me counsel you to depart." + +"Are you mad? Defend her--Lady Rookwood--your enemy--who would hang you? +Tut, tut! Stand aside, I say, Luke Bradley, or look to yourself." + +"You had better consider well ere you proceed," said Luke. "You know me +of old. I have taken odds as great, and not come off the vanquished." + +"The odds are even," cried Titus, "if Mr. Coates will but show fight. +I'll stand by you to the last, my dear boy. You're the right son of your +father, though on the wrong side. Och! Jack Palmer, my jewel, no wonder +you resemble Dick Turpin." + +"You hear this?" cried Luke. + +"Hot-headed fool!" muttered Jack. + +"Why don't you shoot him on the spot?" said Wilder. + +"And mar my own chance," thought Jack. "No, that will never do; his life +is not to be thrown away. Be quiet," said he, in a whisper to Wilder; +"I've another card to play, which shall serve us better than all the +plunder here. No harm must come to that youngster; his life is worth +thousands to us." Then, turning to Luke, he continued, "I'm loth to hurt +you; yet what can I do? You must have the worst of it if we come to a +pitched battle. I therefore advise you, as a friend, to draw off your +forces. We are three to three, it is true; but two of _your_ party are +unarmed." + +"Unarmed!" interrupted Titus. "Devil burn me! this iron shillelah shall +convince you to the contrary, Jack, or any of your friends." + +"Make ready then, my lads," cried Palmer. + +"Stop a minute," exclaimed Coates. "This gets serious; it will end in +homicide--in murder. We shall all have our throats cut to a certainty; +and though these rascals will as certainly be hanged for it, that will +be poor satisfaction to the sufferers. Had we not better refer the +matter to arbitration?" + +"I'm for fighting it out," said Titus, whisking the poker round his head +like a flail in action. "My blood's up. Come on, Jack Palmer, I'm for +you." + +"I should vote for retreating," chattered the attorney, "if that cursed +fellow had not placed a _ne exeat_ at the door." + +"Give the word, captain," cried Rust, impatiently. + +"Ay, ay," echoed Wilder. + +"A skilful general always parleys," said Jack. "A word in your ear, +Luke, ere that be done which cannot be undone." + +"You mean me no treachery?" returned Luke. + +Jack made no answer, but uncocking his pistols, deposited them within +his pockets. + +"Shoot him as he advances," whispered Coates; "he is in your power now." + +"Scoundrel!" replied Luke, "do you think me as base as yourself?" + +"Hush, hush! for God's sake don't expose me," said Coates. + +Lady Rookwood had apparently listened to this singular conference with +sullen composure, though in reality she was racked with anxiety as to +its results; and, now apprehending that Palmer was about to make an +immediate disclosure to Luke, she accosted him as he passed her. + +"Unbind me!" cried she, "and what you wish shall be +yours--money--jewels----" + +"Ha! may I depend?" + +"I pledge my word." + +Palmer untied the cord, and Lady Rookwood, approaching a table whereon +stood the escritoire, touched a spring, and a secret drawer flew open. + +"You do this of your own free will?" asked Luke. "Speak, if it be +otherwise." + +"I do," returned the lady, hastily. + +Palmer's eyes glistened at the treasures exposed to his view. + +"They are jewels of countless price. Take them, and rid me," she added +in a whisper, "of _him_." + +"Luke Bradley?" + +"Ay." + +"Give them to me." + +"They are yours freely on those terms." + +"You hear that, Luke," cried he, aloud; "you hear it, Titus; this is no +robbery. Mr. Coates--'Know all men by these _presents_'--I call you to +witness, Lady Rookwood gives me these pretty things." + +"I do," returned she; adding, in a whisper, "on the terms which I +proposed." + +"Must it be done at once?" + +"Without an instant's delay." + +"Before your own eyes?" + +"I fear not to look on. Each moment is precious. He is off his guard +now. You do it, you know, in self-defence." + +"And you?" + +"For the same cause." + +"Yet he came here to aid you?" + +"What of that?" + +"He would have risked his life for yours?" + +"I cannot pay back the obligation. He must die!" + +"The document?" + +"Will be useless then." + +"Will not that suffice; why aim at life?" + +"You trifle with me. You fear to do it." + +"_Fear!_" + +"About it, then; you shall have more gold." + +"I will about it," cried Jack, throwing the casket to Wilder, and +seizing Lady Rookwood's hands. "I am no Italian bravo, madam--no +assassin--no remorseless cut-throat. What are you--devil or woman--who +ask me to do this? Luke Bradley, I say." + +"Would you betray me?" cried Lady Rookwood. + +"You have betrayed yourself, madam. Nay, nay, Luke, hands off. See, Lady +Rookwood, how you would treat a friend. This strange fellow would blow +out my brains for laying a finger upon your ladyship." + +"I will suffer no injury to be done to her," said Luke; "release her." + +"Your ladyship hears him," said Jack. "And you, Luke, shall learn the +value set upon your generosity. You will not have _her_ injured. This +instant she has proposed, nay, paid for _your_ assassination." + +"How?" exclaimed Luke, recoiling. + +"A lie, as black as hell," cried Lady Rookwood. + +"A truth, as clear as heaven," retained Jack. "I will speedily convince +you of the fact." Then, turning to Lady Rookwood, he whispered, "Shall I +give him the marriage document?" + +"Beware!" said Lady Rookwood. + +"Do I avouch the truth, then?" + +She was silent. + +"I am answered," said Luke. + +"Then leave her to her fate," cried Jack. + +"No," replied Luke; "she is still a woman, and I will not abandon her to +ruffianly violence. Set her free." + +"You are a fool," said Jack. + +"Hurrah, hurrah!" vociferated Coates, who had rushed to the window. +"Rescue, rescue! they are returning from the church; I see the +torchlight in the avenue; we are saved!" + +"Hell and the devil!" cried Jack; "not an instant is to be lost. Alive, +lads; bring off all the plunder you can; be handy!" + +"Lady Rookwood, I bid you farewell," said Luke, in a tone in which scorn +and sorrow were blended. "We shall meet again." + +"We have not parted yet," returned she; "will you let this man pass? A +thousand pounds for his life." + +"Upon the nail?" asked Rust. + +"By the living God, if any of you attempt to touch him, I will blow his +brains out upon the spot, be he friend or foe," cried Jack. "Luke +Bradley, _we_ shall meet again. You shall hear from me." + +"Lady Rookwood," said Luke, as he departed, "I shall not forget this +night." + +"Is all ready?" asked Palmer of his comrades. + +"All." + +"Then budge." + +"Stay!" cried Lady Rookwood, in a whisper to him. "What will purchase +that document?" + +"Hem!" + +"A thousand pounds?" + +"Double it." + +"It _shall_ be doubled." + +"I will turn it over." + +"Resolve me now." + +"You shall hear from me." + +"In what manner?" + +"I will find speedy means." + +"Your name is Palmer?" + +"Palmer is the name he goes by, your ladyship," replied Coates, "but it +is the fashion with these rascals to have an alias." + +"Ha! ha!" said Jack, thrusting the ramrod into his pistol-barrel, "are +you there, Mr. Coates? Pay your wager, sir." + +"What wager?" + +"The hundred we bet that you would take me if ever you had the chance." + +"Take _you_!--it was Dick Turpin I betted to take." + +"_I_ am DICK TURPIN--that's my alias!" replied Jack. + +"Dick Turpin! then I'll have a snap at you at all hazards," cried +Coates, springing suddenly towards him. + +"And I at you," said Turpin, discharging his pistol right in the face of +the rash attorney; "there's a quittance in full." + + + + +_BOOK III_ + + +_THE GIPSY_ + + Lay a garland on my hearse + Of the dismal yew; + Maidens, willow branches bear, + Say I died true. + My love was false, but I was firm + From my hour of birth; + Upon my buried body lie + Lightly, gentle earth. + + BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_A MORNING RIDE_ + + I had a sister, who among the race + Of gipsies was the fairest. Fair she was + In gentle blood, and gesture to her beauty. + + BROME. + + +On quitting Lady Rookwood's chamber, Luke speeded along the gloomy +corridor, descended the spiral stairs, and, swiftly traversing sundry +other dark passages, issued from a door at the back of the house. Day +was just beginning to break. His first object had been to furnish +himself with means to expedite his flight; and, perceiving no one in the +yard, he directed his hasty steps towards the stable. The door was +fortunately unfastened; and, entering, he found a strong roan horse, +which he knew, from description, had been his father's favorite hunter, +and to the use of which he now considered himself fully entitled. The +animal roused himself as he approached, shook his glossy coat, and +neighed, as if he recognized the footsteps and voice. + +"Thou art mistaken, old fellow," said Luke; "I am not he thou thinkest; +nevertheless, I am glad thy instinct would have it so. If thou bearest +my father's son as thou hast borne thy old master, o'er many a field for +many a day, he need not fear the best mounted of his pursuers. Soho! +come hither, Rook." + +The noble steed turned at the call. Luke hastily saddled him, vaulted +upon his back, and, disregarding every impediment in the shape of fence +or ditch, shaped his course across the field towards the sexton's +cottage, which he reached just as its owner was in the act of unlocking +his door. Peter testified his delight and surprise at the escape of his +grandson, by a greeting of chuckling laughter. + +"How?--escaped!" exclaimed he. "Who has delivered you from the hands of +the Moabites? Ha, ha! But why do I ask? Who could it have been but Jack +Palmer?" + +"My own hands have set me free," returned Luke. "I am indebted to no man +for liberty; still less to _him_. But I cannot tarry here; each moment +is precious. I came to request you to accompany me to the gipsy +encampment. Will you go, or not?" + +"And mount behind you?" replied Peter; "I like not the manner of +conveyance." + +"Farewell, then." And Luke turned to depart. + +"Stay; that is Sir Piers's horse, old Rook. I care not if I do ride +him." + +"Quick, then; mount." + +"I will not delay you a moment," rejoined the sexton, opening his door, +and throwing his implements into the cottage. "Back, Mole; back, sir," +cried he, as the dog rushed out to greet him. "Bring your steed nigh +this stone, grandson Luke--there--a little nearer--all's right." And +away they galloped. + +The sexton's first inquiries were directed to ascertain how Luke had +accomplished his escape; and, having satisfied himself in this +particular, he was content to remain silent; musing, it might be, on the +incidents detailed to him. + +The road Luke chose was a rough, unfrequented lane, that skirted, for +nearly a mile, the moss-grown palings of the park. It then diverged to +the right, and seemed to bear towards a range of hills rising in the +distance. High hedges impeded the view on either hand; but there were +occasional gaps, affording glimpses of the tract of country through +which he was riding. Meadows were seen steaming with heavy dews, +intersected by a deep channelled stream, whose course was marked by a +hanging cloud of vapor, as well as by a row of melancholy +pollard-willows, that stood like stripped, shivering urchins by the +river side. Other fields succeeded, yellow with golden grain, or bright +with flowering clover--the autumnal crop--colored with every shade, from +the light green of the turnip to the darker verdure of the bean, the +various products of the teeming land. The whole was backed by round +drowsy masses of trees. + +Luke spoke not, nor abated his furious course, till the road began to +climb a steep ascent. He then drew in the rein, and from the heights of +the acclivity surveyed the plain over which he had passed. + +It was a rich agricultural district, with little picturesque beauty, but +much of true English endearing loveliness to recommend it. Such a quiet, +pleasing landscape, in short, as one views, at such a season of the +year, from every eminence in every county of our merry isle. The picture +was made up of a tract of land filled with corn ripe for the sickle, or +studded with sheaves of the same golden produce, enlivened with green +meadows, so deeply luxuriant as to claim the scythe for the second time; +each divided from the other by thick hedgerows, the uniformity of which +was broken ever and anon by some towering elm, tall poplar, or +wide-branching oak. Many old farmhouses, with their broad barns and +crowded haystacks--forming little villages in themselves--ornamented the +landscape at different points, and by their substantial look evidenced +the fertility of the soil, and the thriving condition of its +inhabitants. Some three miles distant might be seen the scattered hamlet +of Rookwood; the dark russet thatch of its houses scarcely perceptible +amidst the embrowned foliage of the surrounding timber. The site of the +village was, however, pointed out by the square tower of the antique +church, that crested the summit of the adjoining hill; and although the +hall was entirely hidden from view, Luke readily traced out its locality +amidst the depths of the dark grove in which it was embosomed. + +This goodly prospect had other claims to attention in Luke's eyes +besides its agricultural or pictorial merit. It was, or he deemed it +was, his own. Far as his eye ranged, yea, even beyond the line of +vision, the estates of Rookwood extended. + +"Do you see that house below us in the valley?" asked Peter of his +companion. + +"I do," replied Luke; "a snug old house--a model of a farm. Everything +looks comfortable and well to do about it. There are a dozen lusty +haystacks, or thereabouts; and the great barn, with its roof yellowed +like gold, looks built for a granary; and there are stables, +kine-houses, orchards, dovecots, and fishponds, and an old circular +garden, with wall-fruit in abundance. He should be a happy man, and a +wealthy one, who dwells therein." + +"He dwells therein no longer," returned Peter; "he died last night." + +"How know you that? None are stirring in the house as yet." + +"The owner of that house, Simon Toft," replied Peter, "was last night +struck by a thunderbolt. He was one of the coffin-bearers at your +father's funeral. They are sleeping within the house, you say. 'Tis +well. Let them sleep on--they will awaken too soon, wake when they +may--ha, ha!" + +"Peace!" cried Luke; "you blight everything--even this smiling landscape +you would turn to gloom. Does not this morn awaken a happier train of +thoughts within your mind? With me it makes amends for want of sleep, +effaces resentment, and banishes every black misgiving. 'Tis a joyous +thing thus to scour the country at earliest dawn; to catch all the +spirit and freshness of the morning; to be abroad before the lazy world +is half awake; to make the most of a brief existence; and to have spent +a day of keen enjoyment, almost before the day begins with some. I like +to anticipate the rising of the glorious luminary; to watch every line +of light changing, as at this moment, from shuddering gray to blushing +rose! See how the heavens are dyed! Who would exchange yon gorgeous +spectacle," continued he, pointing towards the east, and again urging +his horse to full speed down the hill, endangering the sexton's seat, +and threatening to impale him upon the crupper of the saddle--"who would +exchange that sight, and the exhilarating feeling of this fresh morn, +for a couch of eiderdown, and a headache in reversion?" + +"I for one," returned the sexton, sharply, "would willingly exchange it +for that, or any other couch, provided it rid me of this accursed +crupper, which galls me sorely. Moderate your pace, grandson Luke, or I +must throw myself off the horse in self-defence." + +Luke slackened his charger's pace, in compliance with the sexton's wish. + +"Ah! well," continued Peter, restored in a measure to comfort; "now I +can contemplate the sunrise, which you laud, somewhat at mine ease. 'Tis +a fine sight, I doubt not, to the eyes of youth; and, to the sanguine +soul of him upon whom life itself is dawning, is, I dare say, +inspiriting: but when the heyday of existence is past; when the blood +flows sluggishly in the veins; when one has known the desolating storms +which the brightest sunrise has preceded, the seared heart refuses to +trust its false glitter; and, like the experienced sailor, sees oft in +the brightest skies a forecast of the tempest. To such a one, there can +be no new dawn of the heart; no sun can gild its cold and cheerless +horizon; no breeze can revive pulses that have long since ceased to +throb with any chance emotion. I am too old to feel freshness in this +nipping air. It chills me more than the damps of night, to which I am +accustomed. Night--midnight! is my season of delight. Nature is instinct +then with secrets dark and dread. There is a language which he who +sleepeth not, but will wake, and watch, may haply learn. Strange organs +of speech hath the invisible world; strange language doth it talk; +strange communion hold with him who would pry into its mysteries. It +talks by bat and owl--by the grave-worm, and by each crawling thing--by +the dust of graves, as well as by those that rot therein--but ever doth +it discourse by night, and specially when the moon is at the full. 'Tis +the lore I have then learned that makes that season dear to me. Like +your cat, mine eye expands in darkness. I blink at the sunshine, like +your owl." + +"Cease this forbidding strain," returned Luke; "it sounds as harshly as +your own screech-owl's cry. Let your thoughts take a more sprightly +turn, more in unison with my own and the fair aspect of nature." + +"Shall I direct them to the gipsies' camp, then?" said Peter, with a +sneer. "Do your own thoughts tend thither?" + +"You are not altogether in the wrong," replied Luke. "I _was_ thinking +of the gipsies' camp, and of one who dwells amongst its tents." + +"I knew it," replied Peter. "Did you hope to deceive me by attributing +all your joyousness of heart to the dawn? Your thoughts have been +wandering all this while upon one who hath, I will engage, a pair of +sloe-black eyes, an olive skin, and yet withal a clear one--'black, yet +comely, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon'--a mesh of +jetty hair, that hath entangled you in its network--ripe lips, and a +cunning tongue--one of the plagues of Egypt.--Ha, ha!" + +"You have guessed shrewdly," replied Luke; "I care not to own that my +thoughts were so occupied." + +"I was assured of it," replied the sexton. "And what may be the name of +her towards whom your imagination was straying?" + +"Sibila Perez," replied Luke. "Her father was a Spanish Gitano. She is +known amongst her people by her mother's name of Lovel." + +"She is beautiful, of course?" + +"Ay, very beautiful!--but no matter! You shall judge of her charms +anon." + +"I will take your word for them," returned the sexton; "and you love +her?" + +"Passionately." + +"You are not married?" asked Peter, hastily. + +"Not as yet," replied Luke; "but my faith is plighted." + +"Heaven be praised! The mischief is not then irreparable. I would have +you married--though not to a gipsy girl." + +"And whom would you select?" + +"One before whom Sybil's beauty would pale as stars at day's approach." + +"There lives not such a one." + +"Trust me there does. Eleanor Mowbray is lovely beyond parallel. I was +merely speculating upon a possibility when I wished her yours--it is +scarcely likely she would cast her eyes upon you." + +"I shall not heed her neglect. Graced with my title, I doubt not, were +it my pleasure to seek a bride amongst those of gentle blood, I should +not find all indifferent to my suit." + +"Possibly not. Yet what might weigh with others, would not weigh with +her. There are qualities you lack which she has discovered in another." + +"In whom?" + +"In Ranulph Rookwood." + +"Is _he_ her suitor?" + +"I have reason to think so." + +"And you would have me abandon my own betrothed love, to beguile from my +brother his destined bride? That were to imitate the conduct of my +grandsire, the terrible Sir Reginald, towards _his_ brother Alan." + +The sexton answered not, and Luke fancied he could perceive a quivering +in the hands that grasped his body for support. There was a brief pause +in their conversation. + +"And who is Eleanor Mowbray?" asked Luke, breaking the silence. + +"Your cousin. On the mother's side a Rookwood. 'Tis therefore I would +urge your union with her. There is a prophecy relating to your house, +which seems as though it would be fulfilled in your person and in hers: + + When the stray Rook shall perch on the topmost bough, + There shall be clamor and screaming, I trow; + But of right, and of rule, of the ancient nest, + The Rook that with Rook mates shall hold him possest." + +"I place no faith in such fantasies," replied Luke; "and yet the lines +bear strangely upon my present situation." + +"Their application to yourself and Eleanor Mowbray is unquestionable," +replied the sexton. + +"It would seem so, indeed," rejoined Luke; and he again sank into +abstraction, from which the sexton did not care to arouse him. + +The aspect of the country had materially changed since their descent of +the hill. In place of the richly-cultivated district which lay on the +other side, a broad brown tract of waste land spread out before them, +covered with scattered patches of gorse, stunted fern, and low +brushwood, presenting an unvaried surface of unbaked turf. The shallow +coat of sod was manifested by the stones that clattered under the +horse's hoofs as he rapidly traversed the arid soil, clearing with ease +to himself, though not without discomfort to the sexton, every gravelly +trench, natural chasm, or other inequality of ground that occurred in +his course. Clinging to his grandson with the tenacity of a bird of +prey, Peter for some time kept his station in security; but, unluckily, +at one dike rather wider than the rest, the horse, owing possibly to the +mismanagement, intentional or otherwise, of Luke, swerved; and the +sexton, dislodged from his "high estate," fell at the edge of the +trench, and rolled incontinently to the bottom. + +Luke drew in the rein to inquire if any bones were broken; and Peter +presently upreared his dusty person from the abyss, and without +condescending to make any reply, yet muttering curses, "not loud, but +deep," accepted his grandson's proffered hand, and remounted. + +While thus occupied, Luke fancied he heard a distant shout, and noting +whence the sound proceeded--the same quarter by which he had approached +the heath--he beheld a single horseman spurring in their direction at +the top of his speed; and to judge from the rate at which he advanced, +it was evident he was anything but indifferently mounted. Apprehensive +of pursuit, Luke expedited the sexton's ascent; and that accomplished, +without bestowing further regard upon the object of his solicitude, he +resumed his headlong flight. He now thought it necessary to bestow more +attention on his choice of road, and, perfectly acquainted with the +heath, avoided all unnecessary hazardous passes. In spite of his +knowledge of the ground, and the excellence of his horse, the stranger +sensibly gained upon him. The danger, however, was no longer imminent. + +"We are safe," cried Luke; "the limits of Hardchase are past. In a few +seconds we shall enter Davenham Wood. I will turn the horse loose, and +we will betake ourselves to flight amongst the trees. I will show you a +place of concealment. He cannot follow us on horseback, and on foot I +defy him." + +"Stay," cried the sexton. "He is not in pursuit--he takes another +course--he wheels to the right. By Heaven! it is the Fiend himself upon +a black horse, come for Bow-legged Ben. See, he is there already." + +The horseman had turned, as the sexton stated, careering towards a +revolting object at some little distance on the right hand. It was a +gibbet, with its grisly burden. He rode swiftly towards it, and, reining +in his horse, took off his hat, bowing profoundly to the carcase that +swung in the morning breeze. Just at that moment a gust of air catching +the fleshless skeleton, its arms seemed to be waved in reply to the +salutation. A solitary crow winged its flight over the horseman's head +as he paused. After a moment's halt, he wheeled about, and again shouted +to Luke, waving his hat. + +"As I live," said the latter, "it is Jack Palmer." + +"Dick Turpin, you mean," rejoined the sexton. "He has been paying his +respects to a brother blade. Ha, ha! Dick will never have the honor of a +gibbet; he is too tender of the knife. Did you mark the crow? But here +he comes." And in another instant Turpin was by their side. + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_A GIPSY ENCAMPMENT_ + + I see a column of slow-rising smoke + O'ertop the lofty wood, that skirts the wild. + + COWPER: _The Task_. + + +"The top of the morning to you, gem'men," said Turpin, as he rode up at +an easy canter. "Did you not hear my halloo? I caught a glimpse of you +on the hill yonder. I knew you both, two miles off; and so, having a +word or two to say to you, Luke Bradley, before I leave this part of the +country, I put Bess to it, and she soon brought me within hail. Bless +her black skin," added he, affectionately patting his horse's neck, +"there's not her match in these parts, or in any other; she wants no +coaxing to do her work--no bleeders for her. I should have been up with +you before this had I not taken a cross cut to look at poor Ben. + + One night, when mounted on my mare. + To Bagshot Heath I did repair, + And saw Will Davies hanging there, + Upon the gibbet bleak and bare, + _With a rustified, fustified, mustified air._ + +Excuse my singing. The sight of a gibbet always puts me in mind of the +Golden Farmer. May I ask whither you are bound, comrades?" + +"Comrades!" whispered the sexton to Luke; "you see _he_ does not so +easily forget his old friends." + +"I have business that will not admit of delay," rejoined Luke; "and to +speak plainly----" + +"You want not my society," returned Turpin; "I guessed as much. Natural +enough! You have got an inkling of your good fortune. You have found out +you are a rich man's heir, not a poor wench's bastard. No offence; I'm a +plain spoken man, as you will find, if you know it not already. I have +no objection to your playing these fine tricks on others, though it +won't answer your turn to do so with me." + +"Sir!" exclaimed Luke, sharply. + +"Sir to you," replied Turpin--"Sir Luke--as I suppose you would now +choose to be addressed. I am aware of all. A nod is as good as a wink to +me. Last night I learned the fact of Sir Piers's marriage from Lady +Rookwood--ay, from her ladyship. You stare--and old Peter, there, opens +his ogles now. She let it out by accident; and I am in possession of +what can alone substantiate your father's first marriage, and establish +your claims to the property." + +"The devil!" cried the sexton; adding, in a whisper to Luke, "You had +better not be precipitate in dropping so obliging an acquaintance." + +"You are jesting," said Luke to Turpin. + +"It is ill jesting before breakfast," returned Dick: "I am seldom in the +mood for a joke so early. What if a certain marriage certificate had +fallen into my hand?" + +"A marriage certificate!" echoed Luke and the sexton simultaneously. + +"The only existing proof of the union of Sir Piers Rookwood with Susan +Bradley," continued Turpin. "What if I had stumbled upon such a +document--nay more, if I knew where to direct you to it?" + +"Peace!" cried Luke to his tormentor; and then addressing Turpin, "if +what you say be true, my quest is at an end. All that I need, you appear +to possess. Other proofs are secondary to this. I know with whom I have +to deal. What do you demand for that certificate?" + +"We will talk about the matter after breakfast," said Turpin. "I wish to +treat with you as friend with friend. Meet me on those terms, and I am +your man; reject my offer, and I turn my mare's head, and ride back to +Rookwood. With me now rest all your hopes. I have dealt fairly with you, +and I expect to be fairly dealt with in return. It were idle to say, now +I have an opportunity, that I should not turn this luck to my account. I +were a fool to do otherwise. You cannot expect it. And then I have Rust +and Wilder to settle with. Though I have left them behind, they know my +destination. We have been old associates. I like your spirit--I care not +for your haughtiness; but I will not help you up the ladder to be kicked +down myself. Now you understand me. Whither are you bound?" + +"To Davenham Priory, the gipsy camp." + +"The gipsies are your friends?" + +"They are." + +"I am alone." + +"You are safe." + +"You pledge your word that all shall be on the square. You will not +mention to one of that canting crew what I have told you?" + +"With one exception, you may rely upon my secrecy." + +"Whom do you except?" + +"A woman." + +"Bad! never trust a petticoat." + +"I will answer for her with my life." + +"And for your granddad there?" + +"He will answer for himself," said Peter. "You need not fear treachery +in me. Honor among thieves, you know." + +"Or where else should you seek it?" rejoined Turpin; "for it has left +all other classes of society. Your highwayman is your only man of honor. +I will trust you both; and you shall find you may trust me. After +breakfast, as I said before, we will bring the matter to a conclusion. +Tip us your daddle, Sir Luke, and I am satisfied. You shall rule in +Rookwood, I'll engage, ere a week be flown; and then---- But so much +parleying is dull work; let's make the best of our way to breakfast." + +And away they cantered. + +A narrow bridle-road conducted them singly through the defiles of a +thick wood. Their route lay in the shade, and the air felt chilly amidst +the trees, the sun not having attained sufficient altitude to penetrate +its depths, while overhead all was warmth and light. Quivering on the +tops of the timber, the horizontal sunbeams created, in their +refraction, brilliant prismatic colorings, and filled the air with motes +like golden dust. Our horsemen heeded not the sunshine or the shade. +Occupied each with his own train of thought, they silently rode on. + +Davenham Wood, through which they urged their course, had, in the olden +time, been a forest of some extent. It was then an appendage to the +domains of Rookwood, but had passed from the hands of that family to +those of a wealthy adjoining landowner and lawyer, Sir Edward Davenham, +in the keeping of whose descendants it had ever after continued. A noble +wood it was, and numbered many patriarchal trees. Ancient oaks, with +broad, gnarled limbs, which the storms of five hundred years had vainly +striven to uproot, and which were now sternly decaying; gigantic beech +trees, with silvery stems shooting smoothly upwards, sustaining branches +of such size, that each, dissevered, would in itself have formed a tree, +populous with leaves, and variegated with rich autumnal tints; the +sprightly sycamore, the dark chestnut, the weird wych-elm, the majestic +elm itself, festooned with ivy, every variety of wood, dark, dense, and +intricate, composed the forest through which they rode; and so +multitudinous was the timber, so closely planted, so entirely filled up +with a thick, matted vegetation, which had been allowed to collect +beneath, that little view was afforded, had any been desired by the +parties, into the labyrinth of the grove. Tree after tree, clad in the +glowing livery of the season, was passed, and as rapidly succeeded by +others. Occasionally a bough projected over their path, compelling the +riders to incline their heads as they passed; but, heedless of such +difficulties, they pressed on. Now the road grew lighter, and they +became at once sensible of the genial influence of the sun. The +transition was as agreeable as instantaneous. They had opened upon an +extensive plantation of full-grown pines, whose tall, branchless stems +grew up like a forest of masts, and freely admitted the pleasant +sunshine. Beneath those trees, the soil was sandy and destitute of all +undergrowth, though covered with brown, hair-like fibres and dry cones, +shed by the pines. The agile squirrel, that freest denizen of the grove, +starting from the ground as the horsemen galloped on, sprang up the +nearest tree, and might be seen angrily gazing at the disturbers of his +haunts, beating the branches with his fore feet, in expression of +displeasure; the rabbit darted across their path; the jays flew +screaming amongst the foliage; the blue cushat, scared at the clatter of +the horses' hoofs, sped on swift wing into quarters secure from their +approach; while the parti-colored pies, like curious village gossips, +congregated to peer at the strangers, expressing their astonishment by +loud and continuous chattering. Though so gentle of ascent as to be +almost imperceptible, it was still evident that the path they were +pursuing gradually mounted a hill-side; and when at length they reached +an opening, the view disclosed the eminence they had insensibly won. +Pausing for a moment upon the brow of the hill, Luke pointed to a stream +that wound through the valley, and, tracing its course, indicated a +particular spot amongst the trees. There was no appearance of a +dwelling house--no cottage roof, no white canvas shed, to point out the +tents of the wandering tribe whose abode they were seeking. The only +circumstance betokening that it had once been the haunt of man were a +few gray monastic ruins, scarce distinguishable from the stony barrier +by which they were surrounded; and the sole evidence that it was still +frequented by human beings was a thin column of pale blue smoke, that +arose in curling wreaths from out the brake, the light-colored vapor +beautifully contrasting with the green umbrage whence it issued. + +"Our destination is yonder," exclaimed Luke, pointing in the direction +of the vapor. + +"I am glad to hear it," cried Turpin, "as well as to perceive there is +some one awake. That smoke holds out a prospect of breakfast. No smoke +without fire, as old Lady Scanmag said; and I'll wager a trifle that +fire was not lighted for the fayter fellows to count their fingers by. +We shall find three sticks, and a black pot with a kid seething in it, +I'll engage. These gipsies have picked out a prettyish spot to quarter +in--quite picturesque, as one may say--and but for that tell-tale smoke, +which looks for all the world like a Dutch skipper blowing his morning +cloud, no one need know of their vicinity. A pretty place, upon my +soul." + +The spot, in sooth, merited Turpin's eulogium. It was a little valley, +in the midst of wooded hills, so secluded, that not a single habitation +appeared in view. Clothed with timber to the very summits, excepting on +the side where the party stood, which verged upon the declivity, these +mountainous ridges presented a broken outline of foliage, variegated +with tinted masses of bright orange, timber, and deepest green. Four +hills hemmed in the valley. Here and there a gray slab of rock might be +discerned amongst the wood, and a mountain-ash figured conspicuously +upon a jutting crag immediately below them. Deep sunken in the ravine, +and concealed in part from view by the wild herbage and dwarf shrubs, +ran a range of precipitous rocks, severed, it would seem, by some +diluvial convulsion, from the opposite mountain side, as a corresponding +rift was there visible, in which the same dip of strata might be +observed, together with certain ribbed cavities, matching huge bolts of +rock which had once locked these stony walls together. Washing this +cliff, swept a clear stream, well known and well regarded, as it waxed +in width, by the honest brethren of the angle, who seldom, however, +tracked it to its rise amongst these hills. The stream found its way +into the valley through a chasm far to the left, and rushed thundering +down the mountain side in a boiling cascade. The valley was approached +in this direction from Rookwood by an unfrequented carriage-road, which +Luke had, from prudential reasons, avoided. All seemed consecrated to +silence--to solitude--to the hush of nature; yet this quiet scene was +the chosen retreat of lawless depredators, and had erstwhile been the +theatre of feudal oppression. We have said that no habitation was +visible; that no dwelling tenanted by man could be seen; but following +the spur of the furthest mountain hill, some traces of a stone wall +might be discovered; and upon a natural platform of rock stood a stern +square tower, which had once been the donjon of the castle, the lords of +which had called the four hills their own. A watch-tower then had +crowned each eminence, every vestige of which had, however, long since +disappeared. Sequestered in the vale stood the Priory before alluded +to--a Monastery of Gray Friars, of the Order of St. Francis--some of the +venerable walls of which were still remaining; and if they had not +reverted to the bat and the owl, as is wont to be the fate of such +sacred structures, their cloistered shrines were devoted to beings whose +natures partook, in some measure, of the instincts of those creatures of +the night--a people whose deeds were of darkness, and whose eyes shunned +the light. Here the gipsies had pitched their tent; and though the place +was often, in part, deserted by the vagrant horde, yet certain of the +tribe, who had grown into years--over whom Barbara Lovel held queenly +sway--made it their haunt, and were suffered by the authorities of the +neighborhood to remain unmolested--a lenient piece of policy, which, in +our infinite regard for the weal of the tawny tribe, we recommend to the +adoption of all other justices and knights of the shire. + +Bidding his grandsire have regard to his seat, Luke leaped a high bank; +and, followed by Turpin, began to descend the hill. Peter, however, took +care to provide for himself. The descent was so perilous, and the +footing so insecure, that he chose rather to trust to such conveyance as +nature had furnished him with, than to hazard his neck by any false step +of the horse. He contrived, therefore, to slide off from behind, shaping +his own course in a more secure direction. + +He who has wandered amidst the Alps must have often had occasion to +witness the wonderful surefootedness of that mountain pilot, the mule. +He must have remarked how, with tenacious hoof, he will claw the rock, +and drag himself from one impending fragment to another, with perfect +security to his rider; how he will breast the roaring currents of air, +and stand unshrinking at the verge of almost unfathomable ravines. But +it is not so with the horse: fleet on the plain, careful over rugged +ground, he is timid and uncertain on the hill-side, and the risk +incurred by Luke and Turpin, in their descent of the almost +perpendicular sides of the cliff, was tremendous. Peter watched them in +their descent with some admiration, and with much contempt. + +"He will break his neck, of a surety," said he; "but what matters it? As +well now as hereafter." + +So saying, he approached the verge of the precipice, where he could see +them more distinctly. + +The passage along which Luke rode had never before been traversed by +horse's hoof. Cut in the rock, it presented a steep zigzag path amongst +the cliffs, without any defence for the foot traveller, except such as +was afforded by a casual clinging shrub, and no protection whatever +existed for a horseman; the possibility of any one attempting the +passage not having, in all probability, entered into the calculation of +those who framed it. Added to this, the steps were of such unequal +heights, and withal so narrow, that the danger was proportionately +increased. + +"Ten thousand devils!" cried Turpin, staring downwards, "is this the +best road you have got?" + +"You will find one more easy," replied Luke, "if you ride for a quarter +of a mile down the wood, and then return by the brook side. You will +meet me at the priory." + +"No," answered the highwayman, boldly; "if you go, I go too. It shall +never be said that Dick Turpin was afraid to follow where another would +lead. Proceed." + +Luke gave his horse the bridle, and the animal slowly and steadily +commenced the descent, fixing his fore legs upon the steps, and drawing +his hinder limbs carefully after him. Here it was that the lightness and +steadiness of Turpin's mare was completely shown. No Alpine mule could +have borne its rider with more apparent ease and safety. Turpin +encouraged her by hand and word; but she needed it not. The sexton saw +them, and, tracking their giddy descent, he became more interested than +he anticipated. His attention was suddenly drawn towards Luke. + +"He is gone," cried Peter. "He falls--he sinks--my plans are all +defeated--the last link is snapped. No," added he, recovering his wonted +composure, "his end is not so fated." + +Rook had missed his footing. He rolled stumbling down the precipice a +few yards. Luke's fate seemed inevitable. His feet were entangled in the +stirrup, he could not free himself. A birch tree, growing in a chink of +the precipice, arrested his further fall. But for this timely aid all +had been over. Here Luke was enabled to extricate himself from the +stirrup and to regain his feet; seizing the bridle, he dragged his +faulty steed back again to the road. + +"You have had a narrow escape, by Jove," said Turpin, who had been +thunderstruck with the whole proceeding. "Those big cattle are always +clumsy; devilish lucky it's no worse." + +It was now comparatively smooth travelling; but they had not as yet +reached the valley, and it seemed to be Luke's object to take a +circuitous path. This was so evident that Turpin could not help +commenting upon it. + +Luke evaded the question. "The crag is steep there," said he; "besides, +to tell you the truth, I want to surprise them." + +"Ho, ho!" laughed Dick. "Surprise them, eh? What a pity the birch tree +was in the way; you would have done it properly then. Egad, here's +another surprise." + +Dick's last exclamation was caused by his having suddenly come upon a +wide gully in the rock, through which dashed a headlong torrent, crossed +by a single plank. + +"You must be mad to have taken this road," cried Turpin, gazing down +into the roaring depths in which the waterfall raged, and measuring the +distance of the pass with his eye. "So, so, Bess!--Ay, look at it, +wench. Curse me, Luke, if I think your horse will do it, and, therefore, +turn him loose." + +But Dick might as well have bidden the cataract to flow backwards. Luke +struck his heels into his horse's sides. The steed galloped to the +brink, snorted, and refused the leap. + +"I told you so--he can't do it," said Turpin. "Well, if you are +obstinate, a wilful man must have his way. Stand aside, while I try it +for you." Patting Bess, he put her to a gallop. She cleared the gulf +bravely, landing her rider safely upon the opposite rock. + +"Now then," cried Turpin, from the other side of the chasm. + +Luke again urged his steed. Encouraged by what he had seen, this time +the horse sprang across without hesitation. The next instant they were +in the valley. + +For some time they rode along the banks of the stream in silence. A +sound at length caught the quick ears of the highwayman. + +"Hist!" cried he; "some one sings. Do you hear it?" + +"I do," replied Luke, the blood rushing to his cheeks. + +"And could give a guess at the singer, no doubt," said Turpin, with a +knowing look. "Was it to hear yon woodlark that you nearly broke your +own neck, and put mine in jeopardy?" + +"Prithee be silent," whispered Luke. + +"I am dumb," replied Turpin; "I like a sweet voice as well as another." + +Clear as the note of a bird, yet melancholy as the distant dole of a +vesper-bell, arose the sound of that sweet voice from the wood. A +fragment of a Spanish gipsy song it warbled: Luke knew it well. Thus ran +the romance: + + LA GITANILLA + + By the Guadalquivir, + Ere the sun be flown, + By that glorious river + Sits a maid alone. + Like the sunset splendor + Of that current bright, + Shone her dark eyes tender + As its witching light. + Like the ripple flowing, + Tinged with purple sheen, + Darkly, richly glowing, + Is her warm cheek seen. + 'Tis the Gitanilla + By the stream doth linger, + In the hope that eve + Will her lover bring her. + + See, the sun is sinking; + All grows dim, and dies; + See, the waves are drinking + Glories of the skies. + Day's last lustre playeth + On that current dark; + Yet no speck betrayeth + His long looked-for bark. + 'Tis the hour of meeting! + Nay, the hour is past; + Swift the time is fleeting! + Fleeteth hope as fast. + Still the Gitanilla + By the stream doth linger, + In the hope that night + Will her lover bring her. + +The tender trembling of a guitar was heard in accompaniment of the +ravishing melodist. + +The song ceased. + +"Where is the bird?" asked Turpin. + +"Move on in silence, and you shall see," said Luke; and keeping upon the +turf, so that his horse's tread became inaudible, he presently arrived +at a spot where, through the boughs, the object of his investigation +could plainly be distinguished, though he himself was concealed from +view. + +Upon a platform of rock, rising to the height of the trees, nearly +perpendicularly from the river's bed, appeared the figure of the gipsy +maid. Her footstep rested on the extreme edge of the abrupt cliff, at +whose base the water boiled in a deep whirlpool, and the bounding +chamois could not have been more lightly poised. One small hand rested +upon her guitar, the other pressed her brow. Braided hair, of the +jettiest dye and sleekest texture, was twined around her brow in endless +twisted folds: + + Rowled it was in many a curious fret, + Much like a rich and curious coronet, + Upon whose arches twenty Cupids lay, + And were as tied, or loth to fly away.[24] + +And so exuberant was this rarest feminine ornament, that, after +encompassing her brow, it was passed behind, and hung down in long thick +plaits almost to her feet. Sparkling, as the sunbeams that played upon +her dark yet radiant features, were the large, black, Oriental eyes of +the maiden, and shaded with lashes long and silken. Hers was a Moorish +countenance, in which the magnificence of the eyes eclipses the face, be +it ever so beautiful--an effect to be observed in the angelic pictures +of Murillo,--and the lovely contour is scarcely noticed in the gaze +which those long, languid, luminous orbs attract. Sybil's features were +exquisite, yet you looked only at her eyes--they were the loadstars of +her countenance. Her costume was singular, and partook, like herself, of +other climes. Like the Andalusian dame, her choice of color inclined +towards black, as the material of most of her dress was of that sombre +hue. A bodice of embroidered velvet restrained her delicate bosom's +swell; a rich girdle, from which depended a silver chain, sustaining a +short poniard, bound her waist; around her slender throat was twined a +costly kerchief; and the rest of her dress was calculated to display her +slight, yet faultless, figure to the fullest advantage. + +Unconscious that she was the object of regard, she raised her guitar, +and essayed to touch the chords. She struck a few notes, and resumed her +romance: + + Swift that stream flows on, + Swift the night is wearing,-- + Yet she is not gone, + Though with heart despairing. + +Her song died away. Her hand was needed to brush off the tears that were +gathering in her large dark eyes. At once her attitude was changed. The +hare could not have started more suddenly from her form. She heard +accents well known concluding the melody: + + Dips an oar-plash--hark!-- + Gently on the river; + 'Tis her lover's bark. + On the Guadalquivir. + Hark! a song she hears! + Every note she snatches; + As the singer nears, + Her own name she catches. + Now the Gitanilla + Stays not by the water, + For the midnight hour + Hath her lover brought her. + +It was her lover's voice. She caught the sound at once, and, starting, +as the roe would arouse herself at the hunter's approach, bounded down +the crag, and ere he had finished the refrain, was by his side. + +Flinging the bridle to Turpin, Luke sprang to her, and caught her in his +arms. Disengaging herself from his ardent embrace, Sybil drew back, +abashed at the sight of the highwayman. + +"Heed him not," said Luke; "it is a friend." + +"He is welcome here then," replied Sybil. "But where have you tarried so +long, dear Luke?" continued she, as they walked to a little distance +from the highwayman. "What hath detained you? The hours have passed +wearily since you departed. You bring good news?" + +"Good news, my girl; so good, that I falter even in the telling of it. +You shall know all anon. And see, our friend yonder grows impatient. Are +there any stirring? We must bestow a meal upon him, and that forthwith: +he is one of those who brook not much delay." + +"I came not to spoil a love meeting," said Turpin, who had +good-humoredly witnessed the scene; "but, in sober seriousness, if there +is a stray capon to be met with in the land of Egypt, I shall be glad to +make his acquaintance. Methinks I scent a stew afar off." + +"Follow me," said Sybil; "your wants shall be supplied." + +"Stay," said Luke; "there is one other of our party whose coming we must +abide." + +"He is here," said Sybil, observing the sexton at a distance. "Who is +that old man?" + +"My grandsire, Peter Bradley." + +"Is that Peter Bradley?" asked Sybil. + +"Ay, you may well ask whether that old dried-up _otomy_, who ought to +grin in a glass case for folks to stare at, be kith and kin of such a +bang-up cove as your fancy man, Luke," said Turpin, laughing--"but i' +faith he is." + +"Though he is your grandsire, Luke," said Sybil, "I like him not. His +glance resembles that of the Evil Eye." + +And, in fact, the look which Peter fixed upon her was such as the +rattlesnake casts upon its victim, and Sybil felt like a poor fluttering +bird under the fascination of that venomous reptile. She could not +remove her eyes from his, though she trembled as she gazed. We have said +that Peter's orbs were like those of the toad. Age had not dimmed their +brilliancy. In his harsh features you could only read bitter scorn or +withering hate; but in his eyes resided a magnetic influence of +attraction or repulsion. Sybil underwent the former feeling in a +disagreeable degree. She was drawn to him as by the motion of a +whirlpool, and involuntarily clung to her lover. + +"It is the Evil Eye, dear Luke." + +"Tut, tut, dear Sybil; I tell you it is my grandsire." + +"The girl says rightly, however," rejoined Turpin; "Peter has a +confounded ugly look about the ogles, and stares enough to put a modest +wench out of countenance. Come, come, my old earthworm, crawl along, we +have waited for you long enough. Is this the first time you have seen a +pretty lass, eh?" + +"It is the first time I have seen one so beautiful," said Peter; "and I +crave her pardon if my freedom has offended her. I wonder not at your +enchantment, grandson Luke, now I behold the object of it. But there is +one piece of counsel I would give to this fair maid. The next time she +trusts you from her sight, I would advise her to await you at the +hill-top, otherwise the chances are shrewdly against your reaching the +ground with neck unbroken." + +There was something, notwithstanding the satirical manner in which Peter +delivered this speech, calculated to make a more favorable impression +upon Sybil than his previous conduct had inspired her with; and, having +ascertained from Luke to what his speech referred, she extended her hand +to him, yet not without a shudder, as it was enclosed in his skinny +grasp. It was like the fingers of Venus in the grasp of a skeleton. + +"This is a little hand," said Peter, "and I have some skill myself in +palmistry. Shall I peruse its lines?" + +"Not now, in the devil's name!" said Turpin, stamping impatiently. "We +shall have Old Ruffin himself amongst us presently, if Peter Bradley +grows gallant." + +Leading their horses, the party took their way through the trees. A few +minutes' walking brought them in sight of the gipsy encampment, the spot +selected for which might be termed the Eden of the valley. It was a +small green plain, smooth as a well-shorn lawn, kept ever verdant--save +in the spots where the frequent fires had scorched its surface--by the +flowing stream that rushed past it, and surrounded by an amphitheatre of +wooded hills. Here might be seen the canvas tent with its patches of +varied coloring; the rude-fashioned hut of primitive construction; the +kettle slung + + Between two poles, upon a stick transverse; + +the tethered beasts of burden, the horses, asses, dogs, carts, caravans, +wains, blocks, and other movables and immovables belonging to the +wandering tribe. Glimmering through the trees, at the extremity of the +plain, appeared the ivy-mantled walls of Davenham Priory. Though much +had gone to decay, enough remained to recall the pristine state of this +once majestic pile, and the long, though broken line of Saxon arches, +that still marked the cloister wall; the piers that yet supported the +dormitory; the enormous horse-shoe arch that spanned the court; and, +above all, the great marigold, or circular window, which terminated the +chapel, and which, though now despoiled of its painted honors, retained, +like the skeleton leaf, its fibrous intricacies entire,--all eloquently +spoke of the glories of the past, while they awakened reverence and +admiration for the still enduring beauty of the present. + +Towards these ruins Sybil conducted the party. + +"Do you dwell therein?" asked Peter, pointing towards the priory. + +"That is my dwelling," said Sybil. + +"It is one I should covet more than a modern mansion," returned the +sexton. + +"I love those old walls better than any house that was ever fashioned," +replied Sybil. + +As they entered the Prior's Close, as it was called, several swarthy +figures made their appearance from the tents. Many a greeting was +bestowed upon Luke, in the wild jargon of the tribe. At length an +uncouth dwarfish figure, with a shock head of black hair, hopped towards +them. He seemed to acknowledge Luke as his master. + +"What ho! Grasshopper," said Luke, "take these horses, and see that they +lack neither dressing nor provender." + +"And hark ye, Grasshopper," added Turpin; "I give you a special charge +about this mare. Neither dress nor feed her till I see both done myself. +Just walk her for ten minutes, and if you have a glass of ale in the +place, let her sip it." + +"Your bidding shall be done," chirped the human insect, as he fluttered +away with his charges. + +A motley assemblage of tawny-skinned varlets, dark-eyed women and +children, whose dusky limbs betrayed their lineage, in strange costume, +and of wild deportment, checked the path, muttering welcome upon welcome +into the ear of Luke as he passed. As it was evident he was in no mood +for converse, Sybil, who seemed to exercise considerable authority over +the crew, with a word dispersed them, and they herded back to their +respective habitations. + +A low door admitted Luke and his companions into what had once been the +garden, in which some old moss-encrusted apple and walnut-trees were +still standing, bearing a look of antiquity almost as venerable as that +of the adjoining fabric. + +Another open door gave them entrance to a spacious chamber, formerly the +eating-room or refectory of the holy brotherhood, and a goodly room it +had been, though now its slender lanceolated windows were stuffed with +hay to keep out the air. Large holes told where huge oaken rafters had +once crossed the roof, and a yawning aperture marked the place where a +cheering fire had formerly blazed. As regarded this latter spot, the +good old custom was not, even now, totally abrogated. An iron plate, +covered with crackling wood, sustained a ponderous black caldron, the +rich steam from which gratefully affected the olfactory organs of the +highwayman. + +"That augurs well," said he, rubbing his hands. + +"Still hungering after the fleshpots of Egypt," said the sexton, with a +ghastly smile. + +"We will see what that kettle contains," said Luke. + +"Handassah--Grace!" exclaimed Sybil, calling. + +Her summons was answered by two maidens, habited not unbecomingly, in +gipsy gear. + +"Bring the best our larder can furnish," said Sybil, "and use despatch. +You have appetites to provide for, sharpened by a long ride in the open +air." + +"And by a night's fasting," said Luke, "and solitary confinement to +boot." + +"And a night of business," added Turpin--"and plaguy perplexing business +into the bargain." + +"And the night of a funeral too," doled Peter; "and that funeral a +father's. Let us have breakfast speedily, by all means. We have rare +appetites." + +An old oaken table--it might have been the self-same upon which the holy +friars had broken their morning fast--stood in the middle of the room. +The ample board soon groaned beneath the weight of the savory caldron, +the unctuous contents of which proved to be a couple of dismembered +pheasants, an equal proportion of poultry, great gouts of ham, +mushrooms, onions, and other piquant condiments, so satisfactory to Dick +Turpin, that, upon tasting a mouthful, he absolutely shed tears of +delight. The dish was indeed the triumph of gipsy cookery; and so +sedulously did Dick apply himself to his mess, and so complete was his +abstraction, that he perceived not he was left alone. It was only when +about to wash down the last drumstick of the last fowl with a can of +excellent ale that he made this discovery. + +"What! all gone? And Peter Bradley, too? What the devil does this mean?" +mused he. "I must not muddle my brain with any more Pharaoh, though I +have feasted like a king of Egypt. That will never do. Caution, Dick, +caution. Suppose I shift yon brick from the wall, and place this +precious document beneath it. Pshaw! Luke would never play me false. And +now for Bess! Bless her black skin! she'll wonder where I've been so +long. It's not my way to leave her to shift for herself, though she can +do that on a pinch." + +Soliloquizing thus, he arose and walked towards the door. + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_SYBIL_ + + The wiving vine, that round the friendly elm + Twines her soft limbs, and weaves a leafy mantle + For her supporting lover, dares not venture + To mix her humble boughs with the embraces + Of the more lofty cedar. + + GLAPTHORNE: _Albertus Wallenstein_. + + +Beneath a moldering wall, whither they had strayed, to be free from +interruption, and upon a carpet of the greenest moss, sat Sybil and her +lover. + +With eager curiosity she listened to his tale. He recounted all that had +befallen him since his departure. He told her of the awful revelations +of the tomb; of the ring that, like a talisman, had conjured up a +thousand brilliant prospects; of his subsequent perils; his escapes; his +rencontre with Lady Rookwood; his visit to his father's body; and his +meeting with his brother. All this she heard with a cheek now flushed +with expectation, now made pale with apprehension; with palpitating +bosom, and suppressed breath. But when taking a softer tone, love, +affection, happiness inspired the theme, and Luke sought to paint the +bliss that should be theirs in his new estate; when he would throw his +fortune into her lap, his titles at her feet, and bid her wear them with +him; when, with ennobled hand and unchanged heart, he would fulfil the +troth plighted in his outcast days; in lieu of tender, grateful +acquiescence, the features of Sybil became overcast, the soft smile +faded away, and, as spring sunshine is succeeded by the sudden shower, +the light that dwelt in her sunny orbs grew dim with tears. + +"Why--why is this, dear Sybil?" said Luke, gazing upon her in +astonishment, not unmingled with displeasure. "To what am I to attribute +these tears? You do not, surely, regret my good fortune?" + +"Not on your own account, dear Luke," returned she, sadly. "The tears I +shed were for myself--the first, the only tears that I have ever shed +for such cause; and," added she, raising her head like a flower +surcharged with moisture, "they shall be the last." + +"This is inexplicable, dear Sybil. Why should you lament for yourself, +if not for me? Does not the sunshine of prosperity that now shines upon +me gild you with the same beam? Did I not even now affirm that the day +that saw me enter the hall of my forefathers should dawn upon our +espousals?" + +"True; but the sun that shines upon you, to me wears a threatening +aspect. The day of those espousals will never dawn. You cannot make me +the Lady of Rookwood." + +"What do I hear?" exclaimed Luke, surprised at this avowal of his +mistress, sadly and deliberately delivered. "Not wed you! And wherefore +not? Is it the rank I have acquired, or hope to acquire, that displeases +you? Speak, that I may waste no further time in thus pursuing the +shadows of happiness, while the reality fleets from me." + +"And _are_ they shadows; and _is_ this the reality, dear Luke? Question +your secret soul, and you will find it otherwise. You could not forego +your triumph; it is not likely. You have dwelt too much upon the proud +title which will be yours to yield it to another, when it may be won so +easily. And, above all, when your mother's reputation, and your own +stained name, may be cleared by one word, breathed aloud, would you fail +to utter it? No, dear Luke, I read your heart; you would not." + +"And if I could _not_ forego this, wherefore is it that you refuse to be +a sharer in my triumph? Why will you render my honors valueless when I +have acquired them? You love me not." + +"Not love you, Luke?" + +"Approve it, then." + +"I do approve it. Bear witness the sacrifice I am about to make of all +my hopes, at the shrine of my idolatry to you. Bear witness the agony of +this hour. Bear witness the horror of the avowal, that I never can be +yours. As Luke Bradley, I would joyfully--oh, how joyfully!--have been +your bride. As Sir Luke Rookwood"--and she shuddered as she pronounced +the name--"I never can be so." + +"Then, by Heaven! Luke Bradley will I remain. But wherefore--wherefore +not as Sir Luke Rookwood?" + +"Because," replied Sybil, with reluctance--"because I am no longer your +equal. The gipsy's low-born daughter is no mate for Sir Luke Rookwood. +Love cannot blind me, dear Luke. It cannot make me other than I am; it +cannot exalt me in my own esteem, nor in that of the world, with which +you, alas! too soon will mingle, and which will regard even me as--no +matter what!--it shall not scorn me as your bride. I will not bring +shame and reproach upon you. Oh! if for me, dear Luke, the proud ones of +the earth were to treat you with contumely, this heart would break with +agony. For myself, I have pride sufficient--perchance too much. +Perchance 'tis pride that actuates me now. I know not. But for you I am +all weakness. As you were heretofore, I would have been to you the +tenderest and truest wife that ever breathed; as you are now----" + +"Hear me, Sybil." + +"Hear _me_ out, dear Luke. One other motive there is that determines my +present conduct, which, were all else surmounted, would in itself +suffice. Ask me not what that is. I cannot explain it. For your own +sake; I implore you, be satisfied with my refusal." + +"What a destiny is mine!" exclaimed Luke, striking his forehead with his +clenched hand. "No choice is left me. Either way I destroy my own +happiness. On the one hand stands love--on the other, ambition; yet +neither will conjoin." + +"Pursue, then, ambition," said Sybil, energetically, "if you _can_ +hesitate. Forget that I have ever existed; forget you have ever loved; +forget that such a passion dwells within the human heart, and you may +still be happy, though you are great." + +"And do you deem," replied Luke, with frantic impatience, "that I _can_ +accomplish this; that I _can_ forget that I have loved you; that I _can_ +forget you? Cost what it will, the effort shall be made. Yet by our +former love, I charge you tell me what has wrought this change in you! +Why do you _now_ refuse me?" + +"I have said you are Sir Luke Rookwood," returned Sybil, with painful +emotion. "Does that name import nothing?" + +"Imports it aught of ill?" + +"To me, everything of ill. It is a fated house. Its line are all +predestined." + +"To what?" demanded Luke. + +"To _murder_!" replied Sybil, with solemn emphasis. "To the murder of +their wives. Forgive me, Luke, if I have dared to utter this. Yourself +compelled me to it." + +Amazement, horror, wrath, kept Luke silent for a few moments. Starting +to his feet, he cried: + +"And can you suspect me of a crime so foul? Think you, because I shall +assume the name, that I shall put on the nature likewise of my race? Do +you believe me capable of aught so horrible?" + +"Oh, no, I believe it not. I am sure you would not do it. Your soul +would reject with horror such a deed. But if Fate should guide your +hand, if the avenging spirit of your murdered ancestress should point to +the steel, you could not shun it then." + +"In Heaven's name! to what do you allude?" + +"To a tradition of your house," replied Sybil. "Listen to me, and you +shall hear the legend." And with a pathos that produced a thrilling +effect upon Luke, she sang the following ballad: + + THE LEGEND OF THE LADY OF ROOKWOOD + + Grim Ranulph home hath at midnight come, from the long wars of the + Roses, + And the squire, who waits at his ancient gates, a secret dark + discloses; + To that varlet's words no response accords his lord, but his visage + stern + Grows ghastly white in the wan moonlight, and his eyes like the lean + wolf's burn. + + To his lady's bower, at that lonesome hour, unannounced, is Sir + Ranulph gone; + Through the dim corridor, through the hidden door, he glides--she is + all alone! + Full of holy zeal doth his young dame kneel at the meek Madonna's feet, + Her hands are pressed on her gentle breast, and upturned is her aspect + sweet. + + Beats Ranulph's heart with a joyful start, as he looks on her + guiltless face; + And the raging fire of his jealous ire is subdued by the words of + grace; + His own name shares her murmured prayers--more freely can he breathe; + But ah! that look! Why doth he pluck his poniard from its sheath? + + On a footstool thrown, lies a costly gown of saye and of minevere + --A mantle fair for the dainty wear of a migniard cavalier,-- + And on it flung, to a bracelet hung, a picture meets his eye; + "By my father's head!" grim Ranulph said, "false wife, thy end draws + nigh." + + From off its chain hath the fierce knight ta'en that fond and fatal + pledge; + His dark eyes blaze, no word he says, thrice gleams his dagger's edge! + Her blood it drinks, and, as she sinks, his victim hears his cry: + "For kiss impure of paramour, adult'ress, dost thou die!" + + Silent he stood, with hands embrued in gore, and glance of flame, + As thus her plaint, in accents faint, made his ill-fated dame: + "Kind Heaven can tell, that all too well, I've loved thee, cruel lord; + But now with hate commensurate, assassin, thou'rt abhorred. + + "I've loved thee long, through doubt and wrong; I've loved thee and + no other; + And my love was pure for my paramour, for alas! he was my brother! + The Red, Red Rose, on _thy_ banner glows, on _his_ pennon gleams the + White, + And the bitter feud, that ye both have rued, forbids ye to unite. + + "My bower he sought, what time he thought thy jealous vassals slept, + Of joy we dreamed, and never deemed that watch those vassals kept; + An hour flew by, too speedily!--that picture was his boon: + Ah! little thrift to me that gift: he left me all too soon! + + "Wo worth the hour! dark fates did lower, when our hands were first + united, + For my heart's firm truth, 'mid tears and ruth, with death hast thou + requited: + In prayer sincere, full many a year of my wretched life I've spent; + But to hell's control would I give my soul to work thy chastisement!" + + These wild words said, low drooped her head, and Ranulph's + life-blood froze, + For the earth did gape, as an awful shape from out its depths arose: + "Thy prayer is heard, Hell hath concurred," cried the fiend, "thy + soul is mine! + Like fate may dread each dame shall wed with Ranulph or his line!" + + Within the tomb to await her doom is that hapless lady sleeping, + And another bride by Ranulph's side through the livelong night is + weeping. + _This_ dame declines--a third repines, and fades, like the rest, away; + Her lot she rues, whom a Rookwood woos--_cursed is her Wedding Day_! + +"And this is the legend of my ancestress?" said Luke, as Sybil's strains +were ended. + +"It is," replied she. + +"An idle tale," observed Luke, moodily. + +"Not so," answered Sybil. "Has not the curse of blood clung to all your +line? Has it not attached to your father--to Sir Reginald--Sir +Ralph--Sir Ranulph--to all? Which of them has escaped it? And when I +tell you this, dear Luke; when I find you bear the name of this accursed +race, can you wonder if I shudder at adding to the list of the victims +of that ruthless spirit, and that I tremble for you? I would die _for_ +you willingly--but not by your hand. I would not that my blood, which I +would now pour out for you as freely as water, should rise up in +judgment against you. For myself I have no tears--for _you_, a thousand. +My mother, upon her death-bed, told me I should never be yours. I +believed her not, for I was happy then. She said that we never should be +united; or, if united----?" + +"What, in Heaven's name?" + +"That you would be my destroyer. How could I credit her words then? How +can I doubt them now, when I find you are a Rookwood? And think not, +dear Luke, that I am ruled by selfish fears in this resolution. To +renounce you may cost me my life; but the deed will be my own. You may +call me superstitious, credulous: I have been nurtured in credulity. It +is the faith of my fathers. There are those, methinks, who have an +insight into futurity; and such boding words have been spoken, that, be +they true or false, I will not risk their fulfilment in my person. I may +be credulous; I may be weak; I may be erring; but I am steadfast in +this. Bid me perish at your feet, and I will do it. I will not be your +Fate. I will not be the wretched instrument of your perdition. I will +love, worship, watch, serve, perish for you--but I'll not wed you." + +Exhausted by the vehemence of her emotion, she would have sunk upon the +ground, had not Luke caught her in his arms. Pressing her to his bosom, +he renewed his passionate protestations. Every argument was unavailing. +Sybil appeared inflexible. + +"You love me as you have ever loved me?" said she, at length. + +"A thousand-fold more fervently," replied Luke; "put it to the test." + +"How if I dare to do so? Consider well: I may ask too much." + +"Name it. If it be not to surrender you, by my mother's body I will obey +you." + +"I would propose an oath." + +"Ha!" + +"A solemn, binding oath, that; if you wed me not, you will not wed +another. Ha! do you start? Have I appalled you?" + +"I start? I will take it. Hear me--by----" + +"Hold!" exclaimed a voice behind them. "Do not forswear yourself." And +immediately afterwards the sexton made his appearance. There was a +malignant smile upon his countenance. The lovers started at the ominous +interruption. + +"Begone!" cried Luke. + +"Take not that oath," said Peter, "and I leave you. Remember the counsel +I gave you on our way hither." + +"What counsel did he give you, Luke?" inquired Sybil, eagerly, of her +lover. + +"We spoke of you, fond girl," replied Peter. "I cautioned him against +the match. I knew not your sentiments, or I had spared myself the +trouble. You have judged wisely. Were he to wed you, ill would come of +it. But he _must_ wed another." + +"MUST!" cried Sybil, her eyes absolutely emitting sparkles of +indignation from their night-like depths; and, unsheathing as she spoke +the short poniard which she wore at her girdle, she rushed towards +Peter, raising her hand to strike. + +"_Must_ wed another! And dare you counsel this?" + +"Put up your dagger, fair maiden," said Peter, calmly. "Had I been +younger, your eyes might have had more terrors for me than your weapon; +as it is, I am proof against both. You would not strike an old man like +myself, and of your lover's kin?" + +Sybil's uplifted hand fell to her side. + +"'Tis true," continued the sexton, "I dared to give him this advice; and +when you have heard me out, you will not, I am persuaded, think me so +unreasonable as, at first, I may appear to be. I have been an unseen +listener to your converse; not that I desire to pry into your +secrets--far from it; I overheard you by accident. I applaud your +resolution; but if you are inclined to sacrifice all for your lover's +weal, do not let the work be incomplete. Bind him not by oaths which he +will regard as spiders' webs, to be burst through at pleasure. You see, +as well as I do, that he is bent on being lord of Rookwood; and, in +truth, to an aspiring mind, such a desire is natural, is praiseworthy. +It will be pleasant, as well as honorable, to efface the stain cast upon +his birth. It will be an act of filial duty in him to restore his +mother's good name; and I, her father, laud his anxiety on that score; +though, to speak truth, fair maid, I am not so rigid as your nice +moralists in my view of human nature, and can allow a latitude to love +which their nicer scruples will not admit. It will be a proud thing to +triumph over his implacable foe; and this he may accomplish----" + +"Without marriage," interrupted Sybil, angrily. + +"True," returned Peter; "yet not maintain it. May win it, but not wear +it. You have said truly, the house of Rookwood is a fated house; and it +hath been said likewise, that if he wed not one of his own kindred--that +if Rook mate not with Rook, his possessions shall pass away from his +hands. Listen to this prophetic quatrain: + + When the stray Rook shall perch on the topmost bough, + There shall be clamor and screeching, I trow; + But of right to, and rule of the ancient nest, + The Rook that with Rook mates shall hold him possest. + +You hear what these quaint rhymes say. Luke is, doubtless, the stray +rook, and a fledgeling hath flown hither from a distant country. He must +take her to his mate, or relinquish her and 'the ancient nest' to his +brother. For my own part, I disregard such sayings. I have little faith +in prophecy and divination. I know not what Eleanor Mowbray, for so she +is called, can have to do with the tenure of the estates of Rookwood. +But if Luke Rookwood, after he has lorded it for awhile in splendor, be +cast forth again in rags and wretchedness, let him not blame his +grandsire for his own want of caution." + +"Luke, I implore you, tell me," said Sybil, who had listened, +horror-stricken, to the sexton, shuddering, as it were, beneath the +chilly influence of his malevolent glance, "is this true? Does your fate +depend upon Eleanor Mowbray? Who is she? What has she to do with +Rookwood? Have you seen her? Do you love her?" + +"I have never seen her," replied Luke. + +"Thank Heaven for that!" cried Sybil. "Then you love her not?" + +"How were that possible?" returned Luke. "Do I not say I have not seen +her?" + +"Who is she, then?" + +"This old man tells me she is my cousin. She is betrothed to my brother +Ranulph." + +"How?" ejaculated Sybil. "And would you snatch his betrothed from your +brother's arms? Would you do him this grievous wrong? Is it not enough +that you must wrest from him that which he has long deemed his own? And +if he has falsely deemed it so, it will not make his loss the less +bitter. If you do thus wrong your brother, do not look for happiness; do +not look for respect; for neither will be your portion. Even this +stony-hearted old man shrinks aghast at such a deed. His snake-like eyes +are buried on the ground. See, I have moved even _him_." + +And in truth Peter did appear, for an instant, strangely moved. + +"'Tis nothing," returned he, mastering his emotion by a strong effort. +"What is all this to me? I never had a brother. I never had aught--wife, +child, or relative, that loved me. And I love not the world, nor the +things of the world, nor those that inhabit the world. But I know what +sways the world and its inhabitants; and that is, SELF! AND +SELF-INTEREST! Let Luke reflect on this. The key to Rookwood is Eleanor +Mowbray. The hand that grasps hers, grasps those lands; thus saith the +prophecy." + +"It is a lying prophecy." + +"It was uttered by one of your race." + +"By whom?" + +"By Barbara Lovel," said Peter, with a sneer of triumph. + +"Ha!" + +"Heed him not," exclaimed Luke, as Sybil recoiled at this intelligence. +"I am yours." + +"Not mine! not mine!" shrieked she; "but, oh! not _hers_!" + +"Whither go you?" cried Luke, as Sybil, half bewildered, tore herself +from him. + +"To Barbara Lovel." + +"I will go with you." + +"No! let me go alone. I have much to ask her; yet tarry not with this +old man, dear Luke, or close your ears to his crafty talk. Avoid him. +Oh, I am sick at heart. Follow me not; I implore you, follow me not." + +And with distracted air she darted amongst the mouldering cloisters, +leaving Luke stupefied with anguish and surprise. The sexton maintained +a stern and stoical composure. + +"She is a woman, after all," muttered he; "all her high-flown resolves +melt like snow in the sunshine at the thought of a rival. I congratulate +you, grandson Luke; you are free from your fetters." + +"Free!" echoed Luke. "Quit my sight; I loathe to look upon you. You have +broken the truest heart that ever beat in woman's bosom." + +"Tut, tut," returned Peter; "it is not broken yet. Wait till we hear +what old Barbara has got to say; and, meanwhile, we must arrange with +Dick Turpin the price of that certificate. The knave knows its value +well. Come, be a man. This is worse than womanish." + +And at length he succeeded, half by force and half by persuasion, in +dragging Luke away with him. + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_BARBARA LOVEL_ + + Los Gitanos son encantadores, adivinos, magos, chyromanticos, que + dicen por las rayas de las manos lo Futuro, que ellos llaman + Buenaventura, y generalmente son dados à toda supersticion. + + DOCTOR SANCHO DE MONCADA. + _Discurso sobre Espulsion de los Gitanos._ + + +Like a dove escaped from the talons of the falcon, Sybil fled from the +clutches of the sexton. Her brain was in a whirl, her blood on fire. She +had no distinct perception of external objects; no definite notion of +what she herself was about to do, and glided more like a flitting spirit +than a living woman along the ruined ambulatory. Her hair had fallen in +disorder over her face. She stayed not to adjust it, but tossed aside +the blinding locks with frantic impatience. She felt as one may feel who +tries to strain his nerves, shattered by illness, to the endurance of +some dreadful, yet necessary pain. + +Sybil loved her granddame, old Barbara; but it was with a love tempered +by fear. Barbara was not a person to inspire esteem or to claim +affection. She was regarded by the wild tribe which she ruled as their +queen-elect, with some such feeling of inexplicable awe as is +entertained by the African slave for the Obeah woman. They acknowledged +her power, unhesitatingly obeyed her commands, and shrank with terror +from her anathema, which was indeed seldom pronounced; but when uttered, +was considered as doom. Her tribe she looked upon as her flock, and +stretched her maternal hand over all, ready alike to cherish or +chastise; and having already survived a generation, that which +succeeded, having from infancy imbibed a superstitious veneration for +the "cunning woman," as she was called, the sentiment could never be +wholly effaced. Winding her way, she knew not how, through roofless +halls, over disjointed fragments of fallen pillars, Sybil reached a +flight of steps. A door, studded with iron nails, stayed her progress; +it was an old, strong oaken frame, surmounted by a Gothic arch, in the +keystone of which leered one of those grotesque demoniacal faces with +which the fathers of the church delighted to adorn their shrines. Sybil +looked up--her glance encountered the fantastical visage. It recalled +the features of the sexton, and seemed to mock her--to revile her. Her +fortitude at once deserted her. Her fingers were upon the handle of the +door. She hesitated: she even drew back, with the intention of +departing, for she felt then that she dared not face Barbara. It was too +late--she had moved the handle. A deep voice from within called to her +by name. She dared not disobey that call--she entered. + +The room in which Sybil found herself was the only entire apartment now +existing in the priory. It had survived the ravages of time; it had +escaped the devastation of man, whose ravages outstrip those of time. +Octagonal, lofty, yet narrow, you saw at once that it formed the +interior of a turret. It was lighted by a small oriel window, commanding +a lovely view of the scenery around, and paneled with oak, richly +wrought in ribs and groins; and from overhead depended a molded ceiling +of honeycomb plaster-work. This room had something, even now, in the +days of its desecration, of monastic beauty about it. Where the odor of +sanctity had breathed forth, the fumes of idolatry prevailed; but +imagination, ever on the wing, flew back to that period--and a tradition +to that effect warranted the supposition--when, perchance, it had been +the sanctuary and the privacy of the prior's self. + +Wrapped in a cloak composed of the skins of various animals, upon a low +pallet, covered with stained scarlet cloth, sat Barbara. Around her head +was coiffed, in folds like those of an Asiatic turban, a rich, though +faded shawl, and her waist was encircled with the magic zodiacal +zone--proper to the sorceress--the _Mago Cineo_ of the Cingara--whence +the name Zingaro, according to Moncada--which Barbara had brought from +Spain. From her ears depended long golden drops, of curious antique +fashioning; and upon her withered fingers, which looked like a coil of +lizards, were hooped a multitude of silver rings, of the purest and +simplest manufacture. They seemed almost of massive unwrought metal. Her +skin was yellow as the body of a toad; corrugated as its back. She might +have been steeped in saffron from her finger tips, the nails of which +were of the same hue, to such portions of her neck as were visible, and +which was puckered up like the throat of a turtle. To look at her, one +might have thought the embalmer had experimented her art upon herself. +So dead, so bloodless, so blackened seemed the flesh, where flesh +remained, leather could scarce be tougher than her skin. She seemed like +an animated mummy. A frame so tanned, appeared calculated to endure for +ages; and, perhaps, might have done so. But, alas! the soul cannot be +embalmed. No oil can re-illumine that precious lamp! And that Barbara's +vital spark was fast waning, was evident from her heavy, blood-shot +eyes, once of a swimming black, and lengthy as a witch's, which were now +sinister and sunken. + +The atmosphere of the room was as strongly impregnated as a museum with +volatile odors, emitted from the stores of drugs with which the shelves +were loaded, as well as from various stuffed specimens of birds and wild +animals. Barbara's only living companion was a monstrous owl, which, +perched over the old gipsy's head, hissed a token of recognition as +Sybil advanced. From a hook, placed in the plaster roof, was suspended a +globe of crystal glass, about the size and shape of a large gourd, +filled with a pure pellucid liquid, in which a small snake, the Egyptian +aspic, described perpetual gyrations. + +Dim were the eyes of Barbara, yet not altogether sightless. The troubled +demeanor of her grandchild struck her as she entered. She felt the hot +drops upon her hand as Sybil stooped to kiss it; she heard her +vainly-stifled sobs. + +"What ails you, child?" said Barbara, in a voice that rattled in her +throat, and hollow as the articulation of a phantom. "Have you heard +tidings of Luke Bradley? Has any ill befallen him? I said you would +either hear of him or see him this morning. He is not returned, I see. +What have you heard?" + +"He _is_ returned," replied Sybil, faintly; "and no ill hath happened to +him." + +"He _is_ returned, and you are here," echoed Barbara. "No ill hath +happened to _him_, thou sayest--am I to understand there is--to _you_?" + +Sybil answered not. She could not answer. + +"I see, I see," said Barbara, more gently, her head and hand shaking +with paralytic affection: "a quarrel, a lover's quarrel. Old as I am, I +have not forgotten my feelings as a girl. What woman ever does, if she +be woman? and you, like your poor mother, are a true-hearted wench. She +loved her husband, as a husband should be loved, Sybil; and though she +loved me well, she loved him better, as was right. Ah! it was a bitter +day when she left me for Spain; for though, to one of our wandering +race, all countries are alike, yet the soil of our birth is dear to us, +and the presence of our kindred dearer. Well, well, I will not think of +that. She is gone. Nay, take it not so to heart, wench. Luke has a hasty +temper. 'Tis not the first time I have told you so. He will not bear +rebuke, and you have questioned him too shrewdly touching his absence. +Is it not so? Heed it not. Trust me, you will have him seek your +forgiveness ere the shadows shorten 'neath the noontide sun." + +"Alas! alas!" said Sybil, sadly, "this is no lover's quarrel, which may, +at once, be forgotten and forgiven--would it were so!" + +"What is it, then?" asked Barbara; and without waiting Sybil's answer, +she continued, with vehemence, "has he wronged you? Tell me, girl, in +what way? Speak, that I may avenge you, if your wrong requires revenge. +Are you blood of mine, and think I will not do this for you, girl? None +of the blood of Barbara Lovel were ever unrevenged. When Richard Cooper +stabbed my first-born, Francis, he fled to Flanders to escape my wrath. +But he did not escape it. I pursued him thither. I hunted him out; drove +him back to his own country, and brought him to the gallows. It took a +power of gold. What matter? Revenge is dearer than gold. And as it was +with Richard Cooper, so it shall be with Luke Bradley. I will catch him, +though he run. I will trip him, though he leap. I will reach him, though +he flee afar. I will drag him hither by the hair of his head," added +she, with a livid smile, and clutching at the air with her hands, as if +in the act of pulling some one towards her. "He shall wed you within the +hour, if you will have it, or if your honor need that it should be so. +My power is not departed from me. My people are yet at my command. I am +still their queen, and woe to him that offendeth me!" + +"Mother! mother!" cried Sybil, affrighted at the storm she had +unwittingly aroused, "he has not injured me. 'Tis I alone who am to +blame, not Luke." + +"You speak in mysteries," said Barbara. + +"Sir Piers Rookwood is dead." + +"Dead!" echoed Barbara, letting fall her hazel rod. "Sir Piers dead!" + +"And Luke Bradley----" + +"Ha!" + +"Is his successor." + +"Who told you that?" asked Barbara, with increased astonishment. + +"Luke himself. All is disclosed." And Sybil hastily recounted Luke's +adventures. "He is now Sir Luke Rookwood." + +"This is news, in truth," said Barbara; "yet not news to weep for. You +should rejoice, not lament. Well, well, I foresaw it. I shall live to +see all accomplished; to see my Agatha's child ennobled; to see her +wedded; ay, to see her well wedded." + +"Dearest mother!" + +"I can endow you, and I will do it. You shall bring your husband not +alone beauty, you shall bring him wealth." + +"But, mother----" + +"My Agatha's daughter shall be Lady Rookwood." + +"Never! It cannot be." + +"What cannot be?" + +"The match you now propose." + +"What mean you, silly wench? Ha! I perceive the meaning of those tears. +The truth flashes upon me. He has discarded you." + +"No, by the Heaven of Heavens, he is still the same--unaltered in +affection." + +"If so, your tears are out of place." + +"Mother, it is not fitting that I, a gipsy born, should wed with him." + +"Not fitting! Ha! and you my child! Not fitting! Get up, or I will spurn +you. Not fitting! This from you to me! I tell you it _is_ fitting; you +shall have a dower as ample as that of any lady in the land. Not +fitting! Do you say so, because you think that he derives himself from a +proud and ancient line--ancient and proud--ha, ha! I tell you, girl, +that for his one ancestor I can number twenty; for the years in which +his lineage hath flourished, my race can boast centuries, and was a +people--a kingdom!--ere the land in which he dwells was known. What! if, +by the curse of Heaven, we were driven forth, the curse of hell rests +upon his house." + +"I know it," said Sybil; "a dreadful curse, which, if I wed him, will +alight on me." + +"No; not on you; you shall avoid that curse. I know a means to satisfy +the avenger. Leave that to me." + +"I dare not, as it never can be; yet, tell me--you saw the body of +Luke's ill-fated mother. Was she poisoned? Nay, you may speak. Sir +Piers's death releases you from your oath. How died she?" + +"By strangulation," said the old gipsy, raising her palsied hand to her +throat. + +"Oh!" cried Sybil, gasping with horror. "Was there a ring upon her +finger when you embalmed the body?" + +"A ring--a wedding-ring! The finger was crookened. Listen, girl, I could +have told Luke the secret of his birth long ago, but the oath imposed by +Sir Piers sealed fast my lips. His mother was wedded to Sir Piers; his +mother was murdered by Sir Piers. Luke was entrusted to my care by his +father. I have brought him up with you. I have affianced you together; +and I shall live to see you united. He is now Sir Luke. He is your +husband." + +"Do not deceive yourself, mother," said Sybil, with a fearful +earnestness. "He is not yet Sir Luke Rookwood; would he had no claim to +be so! The fortune that has hitherto been so propitious may yet desert +him. Bethink you of a prophecy you uttered." + +"A prophecy? Ha!" + +And with slow enunciation Sybil pronounced the mystic words which she +had heard repeated by the sexton. + +As she spoke, a gloom, like that of a thunder-cloud, began to gather +over the brow of the old gipsy. The orbs of her sunken eyes expanded, +and wrath supplied her frame with vigor. She arose. + +"Who told you that?" cried Barbara. + +"Luke's grandsire, Peter Bradley." + +"How learnt he it?" said Barbara. "It was to one who hath long been in +his grave I told it; so long ago, it had passed from my memory. 'Tis +strange! old Sir Reginald had a brother, I know. But there is no other +of the house." + +"There is a cousin, Eleanor Mowbray." + +"Ha! I see; a daughter of that Eleanor Rookwood who fled from her +father's roof. Fool, fool. Am I caught in my own toils? Those words were +words of truth and power, and compel the future and 'the will be' as +with chains of brass. They must be fulfilled, yet not by Ranulph. He +shall never wed Eleanor." + +"Whom then shall she wed?" + +"His elder brother." + +"Mother!" shrieked Sybil. "Do you say so? Oh! recall your words." + +"I may not; it is spoken. Luke shall wed her." + +"Oh God, support me!" exclaimed Sybil. + +"Silly wench, be firm. It must be as I say. He shall wed her--yet shall +he wed her not. The nuptial torch shall be quenched as soon as lighted; +the curse of the avenger shall fall--yet not on thee." + +"Mother," said Sybil, "if sin must fall upon some innocent head, let it +be on mine--not upon hers. I love him, I would gladly die for him. She +is young--unoffending--perhaps happy. Oh! do not let her perish." + +"Peace, I say!" cried Barbara, "and mark me. This is your birthday. +Eighteen summers have flown over your young head--eighty winters have +sown their snows on mine. _You_ have yet to learn. Years have brought +wrinkles--they have brought wisdom likewise. To struggle with Fate, I +tell you, is to wrestle with Omnipotence. We may foresee, but not avert +our destiny. What will be, shall be. This is your eighteenth birthday, +Sybil: it is a day of fate to you; in it occurs your planetary hour--an +hour of good or ill, according to your actions. I have cast your +horoscope. I have watched your natal star; it is under the baleful +influence of Scorpion, and fiery Saturn sheds his lurid glance upon it. +Let me see your hand. The line of life is drawn out distinct and +clear--it runs--ha! what means that intersection? Beware--beware, my +Sybil. Act as I tell you, and you are safe. I will make another trial, +by the crystal bowl. Attend." + +Muttering some strange words, sounding like a spell, Barbara, with the +bifurcate hazel staff which she used as a divining-rod, described a +circle upon the floor. Within this circle she drew other lines, from +angle to angle, forming seven triangles, the bases of which constituted +the sides of a septilateral figure. This figure she studied intently for +a few moments. She then raised her wand and touched the owl with it. The +bird unfolded its wings, and arose in flight; then slowly circled round +the pendulous globe. Each time it drew nearer, until at length it +touched the glassy bowl with its flapping pinions. + +"Enough!" ejaculated Barbara. And at another motion from her rod the +bird stayed its flight and returned to its perch. + +Barbara arose. She struck the globe with her staff. The pure lymph +became instantly tinged with crimson, as if blood had been commingled +with it. The little serpent could be seen within, coiled up and knotted, +as in the struggles of death. + +"Again I say, beware!" ejaculated Barbara, solemnly. "This is ominous of +ill." + +Sybil had sunk, from faintness, on the pallet. A knock was heard at the +door. + +"Who is without?" cried Barbara. + +"'Tis I, Balthazar," replied a voice. + +"Thou mayest enter," answered Barbara; and an old man with a long beard, +white as snow, reaching to his girdle, and a costume which might be said +to resemble the raiment of a Jewish high priest, made his appearance. +This venerable personage was no other than the patrico, or hierophant of +the Canting Crew. + +"I come to tell you that there are strangers--ladies--within the +priory," said the patrico, gravely. "I have searched for you in vain," +continued he, addressing Sybil; "the younger of them seems to need your +assistance." + +"Whence come they?" exclaimed Barbara. + +"They have ridden, I understand, from Rookwood," answered the patrico. +"They were on their way to Davenham, when they were prevented." + +"From Rookwood?" echoed Sybil. "Their names--did you hear their names?" + +"Mowbray is the name of both; they are a mother and a daughter; the +younger is called----" + +"Eleanor?" asked Sybil, with an acute foreboding of calamity. + +"Eleanor is the name, assuredly," replied the patrico, somewhat +surprised. "I heard the elder, whom I guess to be her mother, so address +her." + +"Gracious God! She here!" exclaimed Sybil. + +"Here! Eleanor Mowbray here," cried Barbara; "within my power. Not a +moment is to be lost. Balthazar, hasten round the tents--not a man must +leave his place--above all, Luke Bradley. See that these Mowbrays are +detained within the abbey. Let the bell be sounded. Quick, quick; leave +this wench to me; she is not well. I have much to do. Away with thee, +man, and let me know when thou hast done it." And as Balthazar departed +on his mission, with a glance of triumph in her eyes, Barbara exclaimed, +"Soh, no sooner hath the thought possessed me, than the means of +accomplishment appear. It shall be done at once. I will tie the knot. I +will untie, and then retie it. This weak wench must be nerved to the +task," added she, regarding the senseless form of Sybil. "Here is that +will stimulate her," opening the cupboard, and taking a small phial; +"this will fortify her; and this," continued she, with a ghastly smile, +laying her hand upon another vessel, "this shall remove her rival when +all is fulfilled; this liquid shall constrain her lover to be her +titled, landed husband. Ha, ha!" + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_THE INAUGURATION_ + + _Beggar._ Concert, sir! we have musicians, too, among us. True, + merry beggars, indeed, that, being within the reach of the lash for + singing libellous songs at London, were fain to fly into one cover, + and here they sing all our poets' ditties. They can sing anything, + most tunably, sir, but psalms. What they may do hereafter, under a + triple tree, is much expected; but they live very civilly and + genteelly among us. + + _Spring._ But what is here--that solemn old fellow, that neither + speaks of himself, or any for him? + + _Beggar._ O, sir, the rarest man of all: he is a prophet. See how he + holds up his prognosticating nose. He is divining now. + + _Spring._ How, a prophet? + + _Beggar._ Yes, sir; a cunning man, and a fortune-teller; a very + ancient stroller all the world over, and has travelled with gipsies: + and is a patrico. + + _The Merry Beggars._ + + +In consequence of some few words which the sexton let fall in the +presence of the attendants, during breakfast, more perhaps by design +than accident, it was speedily rumored throughout the camp that the +redoubted Richard Turpin was for the time its inmate. This intelligence +produced some such sensation as is experienced by the inhabitants of a +petty town on the sudden arrival of a prince of the blood, a +commander-in-chief, or other illustrious and distinguished personage, +whose fame has been vaunted abroad amongst his fellowmen by Rumor, "and +her thousand tongues;" and who, like our highwayman, has rendered +himself sufficiently notorious to be an object of admiration and +emulation amongst his contemporaries. + +All started up at the news. The upright man, the chief of the crew, +arose from his chair, donned his gown of state, a very ancient brocade +dressing-gown, filched, most probably, from the wardrobe of some +strolling player, grasped his baton of office, a stout oaken truncheon, +and sallied forth. The ruffler, who found his representative in a very +magnificently equipped, and by no means ill-favored knave, whose chin +was decorated with a beard as lengthy and as black as Sultan Mahmoud's, +together with the dexterous hooker, issued forth from the hovel which +they termed their boozing ken, eager to catch a glimpse of the prince of +the high-tobygloaks. The limping palliard tore the bandages from his +mock wounds, shouldered his crutch, and trudged hastily after them. The +whip-jack unbuckled his strap, threw away his timber leg, and "leapt +exulting, like the bounding roe." "With such a sail in sight," he said, +"he must heave to, like the rest." The dummerar, whose tongue had been +cut out by the Algerines, suddenly found the use of it, and made the +welkin ring with his shouts. Wonderful were the miracles Dick's advent +wrought. The lame became suddenly active, the blind saw, the dumb spoke; +nay, if truth must be told, absolutely gave utterance to "most +vernacular execrations." Morts, autem morts, walking morts, dells, +doxies, kinching morts, and their coes, with all the shades and grades +of the Canting Crew, were assembled. There were, to use the words of +Brome-- + + ----Stark, errant, downright beggars. Ay, + Without equivocation, statute beggars, + Couchant and passant, guardant, rampant beggars; + Current and vagrant, stockant, whippant beggars![25] + +Each sunburnt varlet started from his shed; each dusky dame, with her +brown, half-naked urchins, followed at his heels; each "ripe young +maiden, with the glossy eye," lingered but to sleek her raven tresses, +and to arrange her straw bonnet, and then overtook the others; each +wrinkled beldame hobbled as quickly after as her stiffened joints would +permit; while the ancient patrico, the priest of the crew--who joined +the couples together by the hedge-side, "with the nice custom of dead +horse between"[26]--brought up the rear; all bent on one grand object, +that of having a peep at the "foremost man of all this prigging world!" + +Dick Turpin, at the period of which we treat, was in the zenith of his +reputation. His deeds were full blown; his exploits were in every man's +mouth; and a heavy price was set upon his head. That he should show +himself thus openly, where he might be so easily betrayed, excited no +little surprise among the craftiest of the crew, and augured an excess +of temerity on his part. Rash daring was the main feature of Turpin's +character. Like our great Nelson, he knew fear only by name; and when he +thus trusted himself in the hands of strangers, confident in himself and +in his own resources, he felt perfectly easy as to the result. He relied +also in the continuance of his good fortune, which had as yet never +deserted him. Possessed of the belief that his hour was not yet come, he +cared little or nothing for any risk he might incur; and though he +might, undoubtedly, have some presentiment of the probable termination +of his career, he never suffered it to militate against his present +enjoyment, which proved that he was no despicable philosopher. + +Turpin was the _ultimus Romanorum_, the last of a race, which--we were +almost about to say we regret--is now altogether extinct. Several +successors he had, it is true, but no name worthy to be recorded after +his own. With him expired the chivalrous spirit which animated +successively the bosoms of so many knights of the road; with him died +away that passionate love of enterprise, that high spirit of devotion to +the fair sex, which was first breathed upon the highway by the gay, +gallant Claude Du-Val, the Bayard of the road--_Le filou sans peur et +sans reproche_--but which was extinguished at last by the cord that tied +the heroic Turpin to the remorseless tree. It were a subject well worthy +of inquiry, to trace this decline and fall of the empire of the tobymen +to its remoter causes; to ascertain the why and the wherefore, that with +so many half-pay captains; so many poor curates; so many lieutenants, of +both services, without hopes of promotion; so many penny-a-liners, and +fashionable novelists; so many damned dramatists, and damning critics; +so many Edinburgh and Quarterly Reviewers; so many detrimental brothers, +and younger sons; when there are horses to be hired, pistols to be +borrowed, purses to be taken, and mails are as plentiful as +partridges--it were worth serious investigation, we repeat, to ascertain +why, with the best material imaginable for a new race of highwaymen, we +have none, not even an amateur. Why do not some of these choice spirits +quit the _salons_ of Pall-Mall, and take to the road? the air of the +heath is more bracing and wholesome, we should conceive, than that of +any "hell" whatever, and the chances of success incomparably greater. We +throw out this hint, without a doubt of seeing it followed up. Probably +the solution of our inquiry may be, that the supply is greater than the +demand; that, in the present state of things, embryo highwaymen may be +more abundant than purses; and then, have we not the horse-patrol? With +such an admirably-organized system of conservation, it is vain to +anticipate a change. The highwaymen, we fear, like their Irish brothers, +the Rapparees, went out with the Tories. They were averse to reform, and +eschewed emancipation. + +Lest any one should think we have overrated the pleasures of the +highwayman's existence, they shall hear what "the right villainous" Jack +Hall, a celebrated tobyman of his day, has got to say on the subject. +"His life--the highwayman's--has, generally, the most mirth and the +least care in it of any man's breathing, and all he deals for is clear +profit: he has that point of good conscience, that he always sells as +he buys, a good pennyworth, which is something rare, since he trades +with so small a stock. The _fence_[27] and he are like the devil and the +doctor, they live by one another; and, like traitors, 'tis best to keep +each other's counsel. He has this point of honesty, that he never robs +the house he frequents"--Turpin had the same scruples respecting the +Hall of Rookwood in Sir Piers's lifetime--; "and perhaps pays his debts +better than some others, for he holds it below the dignity of his +employment to commit so ungenteel a crime as insolvency, and loves to +pay nobly. He has another quality, not much amiss, that he takes no more +than he has occasion for"--Jack, we think, was a little mistaken here--; +"which he verifies this way: he craves no more while that lasts. He is a +less nuisance in a commonwealth than a miser, because the money he +engrosses all circulates again, which the other hoards as though 'twere +only to be found again at the day of judgment. He is the tithe-pig of +his family, which the gallows, instead of the parson, claims as its due. +He has reason enough to be bold in his undertakings, for, though all the +world threaten him, he stands in fear of but one man in it, and that's +the hangman; and with him, too, he is generally in fee: however, I +cannot affirm he is so valiant that he dares look any man in the face, +for in that point he is now and then, a little modest. Newgate may be +said to be his country-house, where he frequently lives so many months +in the year; and he is not so much concerned to be carried thither for a +small matter, if 'twere only for the benefit of renewing his +acquaintance there. He holds a petit larceny as light as a nun does +auricular confession, though the priest has a more compassionate +character than the hangman. Every man in this community is esteemed +according to his particular quality, of which there are several degrees, +though it is contrary often to public government; for here a man shall +be valued purely for his merit, and rise by it too, though it be but to +a halter, in which there is a great deal of glory in dying like a hero, +and making a decent figure in the cart to the last two staves of the +fifty-first psalm."[28] + +This, we repeat, is the plain statement of a practical man, and again we +throw out the hint for adoption. All we regret is, that we are now +degenerated from the grand tobyman to the cracksman and the sneak, about +whom there are no redeeming features. How much lower the next generation +of thieves will dive it boots not to conjecture: + + Ætas parentum pejor avis tulit, + Nos nequiores; mox daturos, + Progeniem vitiosiorem. + +"Cervantes laughed Spain's chivalry away," sang Byron; and if Gay did +not extinguish the failing flame of our _night_ errantry--unlike the +"Robbers" of Schiller, which is said to have inflamed the Saxon youth +with an irrepressible mania for brigandage--, the "Beggar's Opera" +helped not to fan the dying fire. That laugh was fatal, as laughs +generally are. Macheath gave the highwayman his _coup de grâce_. + +The last of this race--for we must persist in maintaining that he _was_ +the last--, Turpin, like the setting sun, threw up some parting rays of +glory, and tinged the far highways with a luster that may yet be traced +like a cloud of dust raised by his horse's retreating heels. Unequalled +in the command of his steed, the most singular feat that the whole race +of the annals of horsemanship has to record, and of which we may have +more to say hereafter, was achieved by him. So perfect was his +jockeyship, so clever his management of the animal he mounted, so +intimately acquainted was he with every cross-road in the neighborhood +of the metropolis--a book of which he constructed, and carried +constantly about his person--, as well as with many other parts of +England, particularly the counties of Chester, York, and Lancaster, that +he outstripped every pursuer, and baffled all attempts at capture. His +reckless daring, his restless rapidity--for so suddenly did he change +his ground, and renew his attacks in other quarters, that he seemed to +be endowed with ubiquity,--his bravery, his resolution, and, above all, +his generosity, won for him a high reputation amongst his compatriots, +and even elicited applauses from those upon whom he levied his +contributions. + +Beyond dispute, he ruled as master of the road. His hands were, as yet, +unstained with blood; he was ever prompt to check the disposition to +outrage, and to prevent, as much as lay in his power, the commission of +violence by his associates. Of late, since he had possessed himself of +his favorite mare, Black Bess, his robberies had been perpetrated with a +suddenness of succession, and at distances so apparently impracticable, +that the idea of all having been executed by one man, was rejected as an +impossibility; and the only way of reconciling the description of the +horse and rider, which tallied in each instance, was the supposition +that these attacks were performed by confederates similarly mounted and +similarly accoutred. + +There was, in all this, as much of the "_famæ sacra fames_" as of the +"_auri_;" of the hungering after distinction, as well as of the appetite +of gain. Enamored of his vocation, Turpin delighted to hear himself +designated as the Flying Highwayman; and it was with rapturous triumph +that he found his single-handed feats attributed to a band of marauders. +But this state of things could not long endure; his secret was blown; +the vigilance of the police was aroused; he was tracked to his haunts; +and, after a number of hairbreadth 'scapes, which he only effected by +miracle, or by the aid of his wonder-working mare, he reluctantly +quitted the heathy hills of Bagshot, the Pampas plains of Hounslow--over +which like an archetype of the galloping Sir Francis Head, he had so +often scoured,--the gorsy commons of Highgate, Hampstead, and Finchley, +the marshy fields of Battersea, almost all of which he had been known to +visit in a single night, and leaving these beaten tracks to the +occupation of younger and less practised hands, he bequeathed to them, +at the same time, his own reversionary interest in the gibbets thereupon +erected, and betook himself to the country. + +After a journey of more or less success, our adventurer found himself at +Rookwood, whither he had been invited after a grand field-day by its +hospitable and by no means inquisitive owner. Breach of faith and good +fellowship formed no part of Turpin's character; he had his lights as +well as his shades; and as long as Sir Piers lived, his purse and +coffers would have been free from molestation, except, "so far," Dick +said, "as a cog or two of dice went. My dice, you know, are longs for +odd and even, a bale of bar'd cinque deuces," a pattern of which he +always carried with him; beyond this, excepting a take-in at a steeple +chase, Rookwood church being the mark, a "do" at a leap, or some such +trifle, to which the most scrupulous could not raise an objection, Dick +was all fair and above-board. But when poor Sir Piers had "put on his +wooden surtout," to use Dick's own expressive metaphor, his +conscientious scruples evaporated into thin air. Lady Rookwood was +nothing to him; there was excellent booty to be appropriated-- + + The wise _convey_ it call. + +He began to look about for hands; and having accidentally encountered +his old comrades, Rust and Wilder, they were let into the business, +which was imperfectly accomplished in the manner heretofore described. + +To return from this digression. When Turpin presented himself at the +threshold of the door, on his way to inquire after his mare, to his +astonishment he found it closely invested. A cheering shout from the +tawny throng, succeeded by a general clapping of hands, and attended by +a buzzing susurration of applause, such as welcomes the entrance of a +popular actor upon the stage, greeted the appearance of the highwayman. +At the first sight of the crowd he was a little startled, and +involuntarily sought for his pistols. But the demonstrations of +admiration were too unequivocal to be for a moment mistaken; his hand +was drawn from his pocket to raise his hat from his brow. + +Thunders of applause. + +Turpin's external man, we have before said, was singularly +prepossessing. It was especially so in the eyes of _the_ sex--fair we +certainly cannot say upon the present occasion--, amongst whom not a +single dissentient voice was to be heard. All concurred in thinking him +a fine fellow; could plainly read his high courage in his bearing; his +good breeding in his débonnaire deportment; and his manly beauty in his +extravagant red whiskers. Dick saw the effect that he produced. He was +at home in a moment. Your true highwayman has ever a passion for effect. +This does not desert him at the gallows; it rises superior to death +itself, and has been known to influence the manner of his dangling from +the gibbet! To hear some one cry, "There goes a proper handsome man," +saith our previously quoted authority, Jack Hall, "somewhat ameliorates +the terrible thoughts of the meagre tyrant death; and to go in a dirty +shirt were enough to save the hangman a labor, and make a man die with +grief and shame at being in that deplorable condition." With a gracious +smile of condescension, like a popular orator--with a look of blarney +like that of O'Connell, and of assurance like that of Hume--he surveyed +the male portion of the spectators, tipped a knowing wink at the +prettiest brunettes he could select, and finally cut a sort of fling +with his well-booted legs, that brought down another appeal of rapturous +applause. + +"A rank scamp!"[29] cried the upright man; and this exclamation, however +equivocal it may sound, was intended, on his part, to be highly +complimentary. + +"I believe ye," returned the ruffler, stroking his chin--"one may see +that he's no half swell by the care with which he cultivates the best +gifts of nature, his whiskers. He's a rank nib."[30] + +"Togged out to the ruffian, no doubt," said the palliard, who was +incomparably the shabbiest rascal in the corps. "Though a needy mizzler +mysel, I likes to see a cove vot's vel dressed. Jist twig his swell +kickseys and pipes;[31] if they ain't the thing, I'm done. Lame Harry +can't dance better nor he--no, nor Jerry Juniper neither." + +"I'm dumb founded," roared the dummerar, "if he can't patter romany[32] +as vel as the best on us! He looks like a rum 'un." + +"And a rum 'un he be, take my word for it," returned the whip-jack, or +sham sailor. "Look at his rigging--see how he flashes his +sticks[33]--those are the tools to rake a three-decker. He's as clever a +craft as I've seen this many a day, or I'm no judge." + +The women were equally enchanted--equally eloquent in the expression of +their admiration. + +"What ogles!" cried a mort. + +"What pins!" said an autem mort, or married woman. + +"Sharp as needles," said a dark-eyed dell, who had encountered one of +the free and frolicsome glances which our highwayman distributed so +liberally among the petticoats. + +It was at this crisis Dick took off his hat. Cæsar betrayed his +baldness. + +"A thousand pities!" cried the men, compassionating his thinly covered +skull, and twisting their own ringlets, glossy and luxuriant, though +unconscious of Macassar. "A thousand pities that so fine a fellow should +have a sconce like a cocoanut!" + +"But then his red whiskers," rejoined the women, tired of the uniformity +of thick black heads of hair; "what a warmth of coloring they impart to +his face; and then only look how beautifully bushy they make his cheeks +appear!" + +La Fosseuse and the court of the Queen of Navarre were not more smitten +with the Sieur de Croix's jolly pair of whiskers. + +The hawk's eye of Turpin ranged over the whole assemblage. Amidst that +throng of dark faces there was not one familiar to him. + +Before him stood the upright man, Zoroaster--so was he called--, a +sturdy, stalwart rogue, whose superior strength and stature--as has not +unfrequently been the case in the infancy of governments that have risen +to more importance than is likely to be the case with that of Lesser +Egypt--had been the means of his elevation to his present dignified +position. Zoroaster literally _fought_ his way upwards, and had at first +to maintain his situation by the strong arm; but he now was enabled to +repose upon his hard-won laurels, to smoke "the calumet of peace," and +quaff his tipple with impunity. For one of gipsy blood, he presented an +unusually jovial, liquor-loving countenance: his eye was mirthful; his +lip moist, as if from oft potations; his cheek mellow as an Orleans +plum, which fruit, in color and texture, it mightily resembled. Strange +to say, also, for one of that lithe race, his person was heavy and +hebetudinous; the consequence, no doubt, of habitual intemperance. Like +Cribb, he waxed obese upon the championship. There was a kind of mock +state in his carriage, as he placed himself before Turpin, and with his +left hand twisted up the tail of his dressing-gown, while the right +thrust his truncheon into his hip, which was infinitely diverting to the +highwayman. + +Turpin's attention, however, was chiefly directed towards his neighbor, +the ruffler, in whom he recognized a famous impostor of the day, with +whose history he was sufficiently well acquainted to be able at once to +identify the individual. We have before stated, that a magnificent +coal-black beard decorated the chin of this worthy; but this was not +all--his costume was in perfect keeping with his beard, and consisted of +a very theatrical-looking tunic, upon the breast of which was +embroidered, in golden wire, the Maltese cross; while over his shoulders +were thrown the folds of an ample cloak of Tyrian hue. To his side was +girt a long and doughty sword, which he termed, in his knightly phrase, +Excalibur; and upon his profuse hair rested a hat as broad in the brim +as a Spanish sombrero. + +Exaggerated as this description may appear, we can assure our readers +that it is not overdrawn; and that a counterpart of the sketch we have +given of the ruffler certainly "strutted his hour" upon the stage of +human life, and that the very ancient and discriminating city of +Canterbury--to which be all honor--was his theatre of action. His +history is so far curious, that it exemplifies, more strongly than a +thousand discourses could do, how prone we are to be governed by +appearances, and how easily we may be made the dupes of a plausible +impostor. Be it remembered, however, that we treat of the eighteenth +century, before the march of intellect had commenced; we are much too +knowing to be similarly practised upon in these enlightened times. But +we will let the knight of Malta, for such was the title assumed by the +ruffler, tell his own story in his own way hereafter; contenting +ourselves with the moral precepts we have already deduced from it. + +Next to the knight of Malta stood the whip-jack, habited in his sailor +gear--striped shirt and dirty canvas trousers; and adjoining him was the +palliard, a loathsome tatterdemalion, his dress one heap of rags, and +his discolored skin one mass of artificial leprosy and imposthumes. + +As Turpin's eye shifted from one to another of these figures, he chanced +upon an individual who had been long endeavoring to arrest his +attention. This personage was completely in the background. All that +Dick could discern of him was a brown curly head of hair, carelessly +arranged in the modern mode; a handsome, impudent, sun-freckled face, +with one eye closed, and the other occupied by a broken bottle-neck, +through which, as a substitute for a lorgnette, the individual +reconnoitered him. A cocked hat was placed in a very _dégagée_ manner +under his arm, and he held an ebony cane in his hand, very much in the +style of a "_fassionable_," as the French have it, of the present day. +This glimpse was sufficient to satisfy Turpin. He recognized in this +whimsical personage an acquaintance. + +Jerry Juniper was what the classical Captain Grose would designate a +"gentleman with three outs," and, although he was not entirely without +wit, nor, his associates avouched, without money, nor, certainly, in his +own opinion, had that been asked, without manners; yet was he assuredly +without shoes, without stockings, without shirt. This latter deficiency +was made up by a voluminous cravat, tied with proportionately large +bows. A jaunty pair of yellow breeches, somewhat faded; a waistcoat of +silver brocade, richly embroidered, somewhat tarnished and lack-lustre; +a murrey-colored velvet coat, somewhat chafed, completed the costume of +this beggar Brummell, this mendicant macaroni! + +Jerry Juniper was a character well known at the time, as a constant +frequenter of all races, fairs, regattas, ship-launches, bull-baits, and +prize-fights, all of which he attended, and to which he transported +himself with an expedition little less remarkable than that of Turpin. +You met him at Epsom, at Ascot, at Newmarket, at Doncaster, at the +Roodee of Chester, at the Curragh of Kildare. The most remote as well as +the most adjacent meeting attracted him. The cock-pit was his constant +haunt, and in more senses than one was he a _leg_. No opera-dancer could +be more agile, more nimble; scarcely, indeed, more graceful, than was +Jerry, with his shoeless and stockingless feet; and the manner in which +he executed a pirouette, or a pas, before a line of carriages, seldom +failed to procure him "golden opinions from all sorts of dames." With +the ladies, it must be owned, Jerry was rather upon too easy terms; but +then, perhaps, the ladies were upon too easy terms with Jerry; and if a +bright-eyed fair one condescended to jest with him, what marvel if he +should sometimes slightly transgress the laws of decorum. These +aberrations, however, were trifling; altogether he was so well known, +and knew everybody else so well, that he seldom committed himself; and, +singular to say, could on occasions even be serious. In addition to his +other faculties, no one cut a sly joke, or trolled a merry ditty, better +than Jerry. His peculiarities, in short, were on the pleasant side, and +he was a general favorite in consequence. + +No sooner did Jerry perceive that he was recognized, than, after kissing +his hand, with the air of a _petit-maître_, to the highwayman, he strove +to edge his way through the crowd. All his efforts were fruitless; and, +tired of a situation in the rear rank, so inconsistent, he conceived, +with his own importance, he had recourse to an expedient often practised +with success in harlequinades, and not unfrequently in real life, where +a flying leap is occasionally taken over our heads. He ran back a few +yards to give himself an impetus, returned, and, placing his hands upon +the shoulders of a stalwart vagabond near to him, threw a summerset upon +the broad cap of a palliard, who was so jammed in the midst that he +could not have stirred to avoid the shock; thence, without pausing, he +vaulted forwards, and dropped lightly upon the ground in front of +Zoroaster, and immediately before the highwayman. + +Dick laughed immoderately at Jerry's manœuvre. He shook his old chum +cordially by the hand, saying, in a whisper, "What the devil brings you +here, Jerry?" + +"I might retort, and ask you that question, Captain Turpin," replied +Jerry, _sotto voce_. "It is odd to see me here, certainly--quite out of +my element--lost amongst this _canaille_--this Canting Crew--all the +fault of a pair of gipsy eyes, bright as a diamond, dark as a sloe. You +comprehend--a little affair, ha! Liable to these things. Bring your ear +closer, my boy; be upon your guard--keep a sharp look out--there's a +devil of a reward upon your head--I won't answer for all those rascals." + +"Thank you for the hint, Jerry," replied Dick, in the same tone. "I +calculated my chances pretty nicely when I came here. But if I should +perceive any symptoms of foul play--any attempt to snitch or nose, +amongst this pack of peddlers--I have a friend or two at hand, who won't +be silent upon the occasion. Rest assured I shall have my eye upon the +gnarling scoundrels. I won't be sold for nothing." + +"Trust you for that," returned Juniper, with a wink. "Stay," added he; +"a thought strikes me. I have a scheme _in petto_ which may, perhaps, +afford you some fun, and will, at all events, insure your safety during +your stay." + +"What is it?" asked Dick. + +"Just amuse yourself with a flirtation for a moment or two with that +pretty damsel, who has been casting her ogles at you for the last five +minutes without success, while I effect a master-stroke." + +And as Turpin, nothing loth, followed his advice, Jerry addressed +himself to Zoroaster. After a little conference, accompanied by that +worthy and the knight of Malta, the trio stepped forward from the line, +and approached Dick, when Juniper, assuming some such attitude as our +admirable Jones, the comedian, is wont to display, delivered himself of +the following address. Turpin listened with the gravity of one of the +distinguished persons alluded to, at the commencement of the present +chapter, upon their receiving the freedom of the city at the hands of a +mayor and corporation. Thus spoke Jerry: + +"Highest of High-Tobymen! rummest of rum Padders, and most scampish of +Scampsmen! We, in the name of Barbara, our most tawny queen; in the name +of Zoroaster, our Upright Man, Dimber Damber, or Olli Campolli, by all +which titles his excellency is distinguished; in our own respective +names, as High Pads and Low Pads, Rum Gills and Queer Gills, Patricos, +Palliards, Priggers, Whip-Jacks, and Jarkmen, from the Arch Rogue to the +Needy Mizzler, fully sensible of the honor you have conferred upon us in +gracing Stop-Hole Abbey with your presence; and conceiving that we can +in no way evince our sense of your condescension so entirely as by +offering you the freedom of our crew, together with the privileges of an +Upright Man,[34] which you may be aware are considerable, and by +creating you an honorary member of the Vagrant Club, which we have +recently established; and in so doing, we would fain express the +sentiments of gratification and pride which we experience in enrolling +among our members one who has extended the glory of roguery so widely +over the land, and who has kicked up such a dust upon the highways of +England, as most effectually to blind the natives--one who is in himself +a legion--of highwaymen! Awaiting, with respectful deference, the +acquiescence of Captain Richard Turpin, we beg to tender him the freedom +of our crew." + +"Really, gentlemen," said Turpin, who did not exactly see the drift of +this harangue, "you do me a vast deal of honor. I am quite at a loss to +conceive how I can possibly have merited so much attention at your +hands; and, indeed, I feel myself so unworthy----" Here Dick received an +expressive wink from Juniper, and therefore thought it prudent to alter +his expression. "Could I suppose myself at all deserving of so much +distinction," continued the modest speaker, "I should at once accept +your very obliging offer; but----" + +"None so worthy," said the upright man. + +"Can't hear of a refusal," said the knight of Malta. + +"Refusal--impossible!" reiterated Juniper. + +"No; no refusal," exclaimed a chorus of voices. "Dick Turpin must be one +of us. He shall be our dimber damber." + +"Well, gentlemen, since you are so pressing," replied Turpin, "even so +be it. I _will_ be your dimber damber." + +"Bravo! bravo!" cried the mob, _not_ "of gentlemen." + +"About it, pals, at once," said the knight of Malta, flourishing +Excalibur. "By St. Thomas à Becket, we'll have as fine a scene as I +myself ever furnished to the Canterbury lieges." + +"About what?" asked Dick. + +"Your matriculation," replied Jerry. "There are certain forms to be +gone through, with an oath to be taken, merely a trifle. We'll have a +jolly booze when all's over. Come bing avast, my merry pals; to the +green, to the green: a Turpin! a Turpin! a new brother!" + +"A Turpin! a Turpin! a new brother!" echoed the crew. + +"I've brought you through," said Jerry, taking advantage of the uproar +that ensued to whisper to his chum; "none of them will dare to lift a +finger against you now. They are all your friends for life." + +"Nevertheless," returned Turpin, "I should be glad to know what has +become of Bess." + +"If it's your prancer you are wanting," chirped a fluttering creature, +whom Turpin recognized as Luke's groom, Grasshopper, "I gave her a fresh +loaf and a stoup of stingo, as you bade me, and there she be, under yon +tree, as quiet as a lamb." + +"I see her," replied Turpin; "just tighten her girths, Grasshopper, and +bring her after me, and thou shalt have wherewithal to chirp over thy +cups at supper." + +Away bounded the elfin dwarf to execute his behest. + +A loud shout now rent the skies, and presently afterwards was heard the +vile scraping of a fiddle, accompanied by the tattoo of a drum. +Approaching Turpin, a host of gipsies elevated the highwayman upon their +shoulders, and in this way he was carried to the centre of the green, +where the long oaken table, which had once served the Franciscans for +refection, was now destined for the stage of the pageant. + +Upon this table three drums were placed; and Turpin was requested to +seat himself on the central one. A solemn prelude, more unearthly than +the incantation in the Freyschütz, was played by the orchestra of the +band, conducted by the Paganini of the place, who elicited the most +marvellous notes from his shell. A couple of shawms[35] emitted +sepulchral sounds, while the hollow rolling of a drum broke ever and +anon upon the ear. The effect was prodigiously fine. During this +overture the patrico and the upright man had ascended the rostrum, each +taking his place; the former on the right hand of Turpin, the latter +upon his left. Below them stood the knight of Malta, with Excalibur +drawn in his hand, and gleaming in the sunshine. On the whole, Dick was +amused with what he saw, and with the novel situation in which he found +himself placed. Around the table were congregated a compact mass of +heads; so compact, indeed, that they looked like one creature--an Argus, +with each eye upturned upon the highwayman. The idea struck Turpin that +the restless mass of parti-colored shreds and patches, of vivid hues and +varied tintings, singularly, though accidentally, disposed to produce +such an effect, resembled an immense tiger-moth, or it might be a Turkey +carpet spread out upon the grass! + +The scene was a joyous one. It was a brilliant sunshiny morning. +Freshened and purified by the storm of the preceding night, the air +breathed a balm upon the nerves and senses of the robber. The wooded +hills were glittering in light; the brook was flowing swiftly past the +edge of the verdant slope, glancing like a wreathed snake in the +sunshine--its "quiet song" lost in the rude harmony of the mummers, as +were the thousand twitterings of the rejoicing birds; the rocks bared +their bosoms to the sun, or were buried in deep-cast gloom; the shadows +of the pillars and arches of the old walls of the priory were projected +afar, while the rose-like ramifications of the magnificent marigold +window were traced, as if by a pencil, upon the verdant tablet of the +sod. + +The overture was finished. With the appearance of the principal figures +in this strange picture the reader is already familiar. It remains only +to give him some idea of the patrico. Imagine, then, an old +superannuated goat, reared upon its hind legs, and clad in a white +sheet, disposed in folds like those of a simar about its limbs, and you +will have some idea of Balthazar, the patrico. This resemblance to the +animal before mentioned was rendered the more striking by his huge, +hanging, goat-like under lip, his lengthy white beard, and a sort of +cap, covering his head, which was ornamented with a pair of horns, such +as are to be seen in Michael Angelo's tremendous statue of Moses. +Balthazar, besides being the patrico of the tribe, was its principal +professor of divination, and had been the long-tried and faithful +minister of Barbara Lovel, from whose secret instructions he was +supposed to have derived much of his magical skill. + +Placing a pair of spectacles upon his "prognosticating nose," and +unrolling a vellum skin, upon which strange characters were written, +Balthazar, turning to Turpin, thus commenced in a solemn voice: + + Thou who wouldst our brother be, + Say how we shall enter thee? + Name the name that thou wilt bear + Ere our livery thou wear? + +"I see no reason why I should alter my designation," replied the +noviciate; "but as popes change their titles on their creation, there +can be no objection to a scampsman following so excellent an example. +Let me be known as the Night Hawk." + +"The Night Hawk--good," returned the hierophant, proceeding to register +the name upon the parchment. "Kneel down," continued he. + +After some hesitation, Turpin complied. + +"You must repeat the 'salamon,' or oath of our creed, after my +dictation," said the patrico; and Turpin, signifying his assent by a +nod, Balthazar propounded the following abjuration: + + OATH OF THE CANTING CREW + + I, Crank-Cuffin, swear to be + True to this fraternity; + That I will in all obey + Rule and order of the lay. + Never blow the gab, or squeak; + Never snitch to bum or beak; + But religiously maintain + Authority of those who reign + Over Stop-Hole Abbey Green, + Be they tawny king, or queen. + In their cause alone will fight; + Think what they think, wrong or right; + Serve them truly, and no other, + And be faithful to my brother; + Suffer none, from far or near, + With their rights to interfere; + No strange Abram, ruffler crack, + Hooker of another pack, + Rogue or rascal, frater, maunderer, + Irish toyle, or other wanderer; + No dimber damber, angler, dancer, + Prig of cackler, prig of prancer; + No swigman, swaddler, clapperdudgeon; + Cadge-gloak, curtal, or curmudgeon; + No whip-jack, palliard, patrico; + No jarkman, be he high or low; + No dummerar, or romany; + No member of "_the Family_;" + No ballad-basket, bouncing buffer, + Nor any other, will I suffer; + But stall-off now and for ever, + All outliers whatsoever: + And as I keep to the foregone, + So may help me Salamon![36] + +"So help me Salamon!" repeated Turpin, with emphasis. + +"Zoroaster," said the patrico to the upright man, "do thy part of this +ceremonial." + +Zoroaster obeyed; and, taking Excalibur from the knight of Malta, +bestowed a hearty thwack with the blade upon the shoulders of the +kneeling highwayman, assisting him afterwards to arise. + +The inauguration was complete. + +"Well," exclaimed Dick, "I'm glad it's all over. My leg feels a little +stiffish. I'm not much given to kneeling. I must dance it off;" saying +which, he began to shuffle upon the boards. "I tell you what," continued +he, "most reverend patrico, that same 'salmon' of yours has a cursed +long tail. I could scarce swallow it all, and it's strange if it don't +give me an indigestion. As to you, sage Zory, from the dexterity with +which you flourish your sword, I should say you had practised at court. +His majesty could scarce do the thing better, when, slapping some fat +alderman upon the shoulder, he bids him arise Sir Richard. And now, +pals," added he, glancing round, "as I am one of you, let's have a booze +together ere I depart, for I don't think my stay will be long in the +land of Egypt." + +This suggestion of Turpin was so entirely consonant to the wishes of the +assemblage, that it met with universal approbation; and upon a sign from +Zoroaster, some of his followers departed in search of supplies for the +carousal. Zoroaster leaped from the table, and his example was followed +by Turpin, and more leisurely by the patrico. + +It was rather early in the day for a drinking bout. But the Canting Crew +were not remarkably particular. The chairs were removed, and the +jingling of glasses announced the arrival of the preliminaries of the +matutine symposion. Poles, canvas, and cords were next brought; and in +almost as short a space of time as one scene is substituted for another +in a theatrical representation, a tent was erected. Benches, stools, and +chairs appeared with equal celerity, and the interior soon presented an +appearance like that of a booth at a fair. A keg of brandy was broached, +and the health of the new brother quaffed in brimmers. + +Our highwayman returned thanks. Zoroaster was in the chair, the knight +of Malta acting as croupier. A second toast was proposed--the tawny +queen. This was drunk with a like enthusiasm, and with a like allowance +of the potent spirit; but as bumpers of brandy are not to be repeated +with impunity, it became evident to the president of the board that he +must not repeat his toasts quite so expeditiously. To create a +temporary diversion, therefore, he called for a song. + +The dulcet notes of the fiddle now broke through the clamor; and, in +answer to the call, Jerry Juniper volunteered the following: + + JERRY JUNIPER'S CHANT + + In a box[37] of the stone jug[38] I was born, + Of a hempen widow[39] the kid forlorn. + _Fake away,_ + And my father, as I've heard say, + _Fake away._ + Was a merchant of capers[40] gay, + Who cut his last fling with great applause, + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._[41] + + Who cut his last fling with great applause,[42] + To the tune of a "hearty choke with caper sauce." + _Fake away._ + The knucks in quod[43] did my schoolmen play, + _Fake away,_ + And put me up to the time of day; + Until at last there was none so knowing, + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + Until at last there was none so knowing, + No such sneaksman[44] or buzgloak[45] going. + _Fake away._ + Fogles[46] and fawnies[47] soon went their way, + _Fake away_, + To the spout[48] with the sneezers[49] in grand array. + No dummy hunter[50] had forks[51] so fly; + _Nix my doll pals, fake away_. + + No dummy hunter had forks so fly, + No knuckler[52] so deftly could fake a cly,[53] + _Fake away._ + No slour'd hoxter[54] my snipes[55] could stay, + _Fake away._ + None knap a reader[56] like me in the lay. + Soon then I mounted in swell-street high. + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + Soon then I mounted in swell-street high, + And sported my flashiest toggery[57], + _Fake away._ + Firmly resolved I would make my hay, + _Fake away,_ + While Mercury's star shed a single ray; + And ne'er was there seen such a dashing prig,[58] + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + And ne'er was there seen such a dashing prig, + With my strummel faked in the newest twig.[59] + _Fake away._ + With my fawnied famms,[60] and my onions gay,[61] + _Fake away;_ + My thimble of ridge[62], and my driz kemesa[63]; + All my togs were so niblike[64] and splash, + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + All my togs were so niblike and splash, + Readily the queer screens I then could smash;[65] + _Fake away._ + But my nuttiest blowen,[66] one fine day, + _Fake away,_ + To the beaks[67] did her fancy man betray, + And thus was I bowled out at last[68] + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + And thus was I bowled out at last, + And into the jug for a lag was cast;[69] + _Fake away._ + But I slipped my darbies[70] one morn in May, + _Fake away,_ + And gave to the dubsman[71] a holiday. + And here I am, pals, merry and free, + A regular rollicking romany.[72] + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + +Much laughter and applause rewarded Jerry's attempt to please; and +though the meaning of his chant, even with the aid of the numerous notes +appended to it, may not be quite obvious to our readers, we can assure +them that it was perfectly intelligible to the Canting Crew. Jerry was +now entitled to a call; and happening, at the moment, to meet the fine +dark eyes of a sentimental gipsy, one of that better class of mendicants +who wandered about the country with a guitar at his back, his election +fell upon him. The youth, without prelude, struck up a + + GIPSY SERENADE + + Merry maid, merry maid, wilt thou wander with me? + We will roam through the forest, the meadow, and lea; + We will haunt the sunny bowers, and when day begins to flee, + Our couch shall be the ferny brake, our canopy the tree. + _Merry maid, merry maid, come and wander with me! + No life like the gipsy's, so joyous and free!_ + + Merry maid, merry maid, though a roving life be ours, + We will laugh away the laughing and quickly fleeting hours; + Our hearts are free, as is the free and open sky above, + And we know what tamer souls know not, how lovers ought to love. + _Merry maid, merry maid, come and wander with me! + No life like the gipsy's so joyous and free!_ + +Zoroaster now removed the pipe from his upright lips to intimate his +intention of proposing a toast. + +A universal knocking of knuckles by the knucklers[73] was followed by +profound silence. The sage spoke: + +"The city of Canterbury, pals," said he; "and may it never want a knight +of Malta." + +The toast was pledged with much laughter, and in many bumpers. + +The knight, upon whom all eyes were turned, rose, "with stately bearing +and majestic motion," to return thanks. + +"I return you an infinitude of thanks, brother pals," said he, glancing +round the assemblage; and bowing to the president, "and to you, most +upright Zory, for the honor you have done me in associating my name with +that city. Believe me, I sincerely appreciate the compliment, and echo +the sentiment from the bottom of my soul. I trust it never _will_ want +a knight of Malta. In return for your consideration, but a poor one you +will say, you shall have a ditty, which I composed upon the occasion of +my pilgrimage to that city, and which I have thought proper to name +after myself." + + THE KNIGHT OF MALTA + + _A Canterbury Tale_[74] + + Come list to me, and you shall have, without a hem or haw, sirs, + A Canterbury pilgrimage, much better than old Chaucer's. + 'Tis of a hoax I once played off upon that city clever, + The memory of which, I hope, will stick to it for ever. + _With my coal-black beard, and purple cloak, + jack-boots, and broad-brimmed castor, + Hey-ho! for the knight of Malta!_ + + To execute my purpose, in the first place, you must know, sirs, + My locks I let hang down my neck--my beard and whiskers grow, sirs; + A purple cloak I next clapped on, a sword lagged to my side, sirs, + And mounted on a charger black, I to the town did ride, sirs. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + Two pages were there by my side, upon two little ponies, + Decked out in scarlet uniform, as spruce as macaronies; + Caparisoned my charger was, as grandly as his master, + And o'er my long and curly locks, I wore a broad-brimmed castor. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + The people all flocked forth, amazed to see a man so hairy, + Oh I such a sight had ne'er before been seen in Canterbury! + My flowing robe, my flowing beard, my horse with flowing mane, sirs! + They stared--the days of chivalry, they thought, were come again, sirs! + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + I told them a long rigmarole romance, that did not halt a + Jot, that they beheld in me a real knight of Malta! + Tom à Becket had I sworn I was, that saint and martyr hallowed, + I doubt not just as readily the bait they would have swallowed. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + I rode about, and speechified, and everybody gullied, + The tavern-keepers diddled, and the magistracy bullied; + Like puppets were the townsfolk led in that show they call a raree; + The Gotham sages were a joke to those of Canterbury. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + The theatre I next engaged, where I addressed the crowd, sirs, + And on retrenchment and reform I spouted long and loud, sirs; + On tithes and on taxation I enlarged with skill and zeal, sirs, + Who so able as a Malta knight, the malt tax to repeal, sirs. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + As a candidate I then stepped forth to represent their city, + And my non-election to that place was certainly a pity; + For surely I the fittest was, and very proper, very, + To represent the wisdom and the wit of Canterbury. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + At the trial of some smugglers next, one thing I rather queer did, + And the justices upon the bench I literally _bearded_; + For I swore that I some casks did see, though proved as clear as + day, sirs, + That I happened at the time to be some fifty miles away, sirs. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + This last assertion, I must own, was somewhat of a blunder, + And for perjury indicted they compelled me to knock under; + To my prosperous career this slight error put a stop, sirs, + And thus _crossed_, the knight of Malta was at length obliged to + _hop_, sirs. + _With his coal-black beard, and purple cloak, + jack-boots, and broad-brimmed castor, + Good-by to the knight of Malta._ + +The knight sat down amidst the general plaudits of the company. + +The party, meanwhile, had been increased by the arrival of Luke and the +sexton. The former, who was in no mood for revelry, refused to comply +with his grandsire's solicitation to enter, and remained sullenly at the +door, with his arms folded, and his eyes fixed upon Turpin, whose +movements he commanded through the canvas aperture. The sexton walked up +to Dick, who was seated at the post of honor, and, clapping him upon +the shoulder, congratulated him upon the comfortable position in which +he found him. + +"Ha, ha! Are you there, my old death's-head on a mop-stick?" said +Turpin, with a laugh. "Ain't we merry mumpers, eh? Keeping it up in +style. Sit down, old Noah--make yourself comfortable, Methusalem." + +"What say you to a drop of as fine Nantz as you ever tasted in your +life, old cove?" said Zoroaster. + +"I have no sort of objection to it," returned Peter, "provided you will +all pledge my toast." + +"That I will, were it old Ruffin himself," shouted Turpin. + +"Here's to the three-legged mare," cried Peter. "To the tree that bears +fruit all the year round, and yet has neither bark nor branch. You won't +refuse that toast, Captain Turpin?" + +"Not I," answered Dick; "I owe the gallows no grudge. If, as Jerry's +song says, I must have a 'hearty choke and caper sauce' for my breakfast +one of these fine mornings, it shall never be said that I fell to my +meal without appetite, or neglected saying grace before it. Gentlemen, +here's Peter Bradley's toast: 'The scragging post--the three-legged +mare,' with three times three." + +Appropriate as this sentiment was, it did not appear to be so inviting +to the party as might have been anticipated, and the shouts soon died +away. + +"They like not the thoughts of the gallows," said Turpin to Peter. "More +fools they. A mere bugbear to frighten children, believe me; and never +yet alarmed a brave man. The gallows, pshaw! One can but die once, and +what signifies it how, so that it be over quickly. I think no more of +the last leap into eternity than clearing a five-barred gate. A rope's +end for it! So let us be merry, and make the most of our time, and +that's true philosophy. I know you can throw off a rum chant," added he, +turning to Peter. "I heard you sing last night at the hall. Troll us a +stave, my antediluvian file, and, in the meantime, tip me a gage of +fogus,[75] Jerry; and if that's a bowl of huckle-my-butt[76] you are +brewing, Sir William," added he, addressing the knight of Malta, "you +may send me a jorum at your convenience." + +Jerry handed the highwayman a pipe, together with a tumbler of the +beverage which the knight had prepared, which he pronounced excellent; +and while the huge bowl was passed round to the company, a prelude of +shawms announced that Peter was ready to break into song. + +Accordingly, after the symphony was ended, accompanied at intervals by a +single instrument, Peter began his melody, in a key so high, that the +utmost exertions of the shawm-blower failed to approach its altitudes. +The burden of his minstrelsy was + + THE MANDRAKE[77] + + Μῶλύ δέ μιν καλέουσι θεοί, χαλνπὸν δέ τ' ὀρύσσειν + Ἀνδράσι γε θνητοισι θεοι, δέ τε πάντα δύνανται. + HOMERUS. + + The mandrake grows 'neath the gallows-tree, + And rank and green are its leaves to see; + Green and rank, as the grass that waves + Over the unctuous earth of graves; + And though all around it lie bleak and bare, + Freely the mandrake flourisheth there. + _Maranatha--Anathema! + Dread is the curse of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + + At the foot of the gibbet the mandrake springs; + Just where the creaking carcase swings; + Some have thought it engendered + From the fat that drops from the bones of the dead; + Some have thought it a human thing; + But this is a vain imagining. + _Maranatha--Anathema! + Dread is the curse of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + + A charnel leaf doth the mandrake wear, + A charnel fruit doth the mandrake bear; + Yet none like the mandrake hath such great power, + Such virtue resides not in herb or flower; + Aconite, hemlock, or moonshade, I ween, + None hath a poison so subtle and keen. + _Maranatha--Anathema! + Dread is the curse of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + + And whether the mandrake be create + Flesh with the power incorporate, + I know not; yet, if from the earth 'tis rent, + Shrieks and groans from the root are sent; + Shrieks and groans, and a sweat like gore + Oozes and drops from the clammy core. + _Maranatha--Anathema! + Dread is the curse of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + + Whoso gathereth the mandrake shall surely die; + Blood for blood is his destiny. + Some who have plucked it have died with groans, + Like to the mandrake's expiring moans; + Some have died raving, and some beside-- + With penitent prayers--but _all_ have died. + _Jesu! save us by night and day! + From the terrible death of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + +"A queer chant that," said Zoroaster, coughing loudly, in token of +disapprobation. + +"Not much to my taste," quoth the knight of Malta. "We like something +more sprightly in Canterbury." + +"Nor to mine," added Jerry; "don't think it's likely to have an encore. +'Pon my soul, Dick, you must give us something yourself, or we shall +never cry Euthanasy at the Triple Tree." + +"With all my heart," replied Turpin. "You shall have--but what do I see, +my friend Sir Luke? Devil take my tongue, Luke Bradley, I mean. What, +ho! Luke--nay, nay, man, no shrinking--stand forward; I've a word or two +to say to you. We must have a hob-a-nob glass together for old +acquaintance sake. Nay, no airs, man; damme you're not a lord yet, nor a +baronet either, though I do hold your title in my pocket; never look +glum at me. It won't pay. I'm one of the Canting Crew now; no man shall +sneer at me with impunity, eh, Zory? Ha, ha! here's a glass of Nantz; +we'll have a bottle of black strap when you are master of your own. Make +ready there, you gut-scrapers, you shawm-shavers; I'll put your lungs in +play for you presently. In the meantime--charge, pals, charge--a toast, +a toast! Health and prosperity to Sir Luke Rookwood! I see you are +surprised--this, gemmen, is Sir Luke Rookwood, somewhile Luke Bradley, +heir to the house of that name, not ten miles distant from this. Say, +shall we not drink a bumper to his health?" + +Astonishment prevailed amongst the crew. Luke himself had been taken by +surprise. When Turpin discovered him at the door of the tent, and +summoned him to appear, he reluctantly complied with the request; but +when, in a half-bantering vein, Dick began to rally him upon his +pretensions, he would most gladly have retreated, had it been in his +power. It was then too late. He felt he must stand the ordeal. Every eye +was fixed upon him with a look of inquiry. + +Zoroaster took his everlasting pipe from his mouth. + +"This ain't true, sure_ly_?" asked the perplexed Magus. + +"He has said it," replied Luke; "I may not deny it." + +This was sufficient. There was a wild hubbub of delight amongst the +crew, for Luke was a favorite with all. + +"Sir Luke Rookwood!" cried Jerry Juniper, who liked a title as much as +Tommy Moore is said to dote upon a lord. "Upon my soul I sincerely +congratulate you; devilish fortunate fellow. Always cursed unlucky +myself. I could never find out my own father, unless it were one +Monsieur des Capriolles, a French dancing-master, and _he_ never left +anything behind him that I could hear of, except a broken kit and a +hempen widow. Sir Luke Rookwood, we shall do ourselves the pleasure of +drinking your health and prosperity." + +Fresh bumpers and immense cheering. + +Silence being in a measure restored, Zoroaster claimed Turpin's promise +of a song. + +"True, true," replied Dick; "I have not forgotten it. Stand to your +bows, my hearties." + + THE GAME OF HIGH TOBY + + Now Oliver[78] puts his black nightcap on, + And every star its glim[79] is hiding, + And forth to the heath is the scampsman[80] gone, + His matchless cherry-black[81] prancer riding; + Merrily over the common he flies, + Fast and free as the rush of rocket, + His crape-covered vizard drawn over his eyes, + His tol[82] by his side, and his pops[83] in his pocket. + + CHORUS + + _Then who can name + So merry a game, + As the game of all games--high toby?_[84] + + The traveller hears him, away! away! + Over the wide wide heath he scurries; + He heeds not the thunderbolt summons to stay, + But ever the faster and faster he hurries. + But what daisy-cutter can match that black tit? + He is caught--he must "stand and deliver;" + Then out with the dummy[85], and off with the bit,[86] + Oh! the game of high toby for ever! + + CHORUS + + _Then who can name + So merry a game, + As the game of all games--high toby?_ + + Believe me, there is not a game, my brave boys, + To compare with the game of high toby; + No rapture can equal the tobyman's joys, + To blue devils, blue plumbs[87] give the go-by; + And what if, at length, boys, he come to the crap![88] + Even rack punch has _some_ bitter in it, + For the mare-with-three-legs[89], boys, I care not a rap, + 'Twill be over in less than a minute. + + GRAND CHORUS + + _Then hip, hurrah! + Fling care away! + Hurrah for the game of high toby!_ + +"And now, pals," said Dick, who began to feel the influence of these +morning cups, "I vote that we adjourn. Believe me I shall always bear in +mind that I am a brother of your band. Sir Luke and I must have a little +chat together ere I take my leave. Adieu!" + +And taking Luke by the arm, he walked out of the tent. Peter Bradley +rose, and followed them. + +At the door they found the dwarfish Grasshopper with Black Bess. +Rewarding the urchin for his trouble, and slipping the bridle of his +mare over his hand, Turpin continued his walk over the green. For a few +minutes he seemed to be lost in rumination. + +"I tell you what, Sir Luke," said he; "I should like to do a generous +thing, and make you a present of this bit of paper. But one ought not to +throw away one's luck, you know--there is a tide in the affairs of +thieves, as the player coves say, which must be taken at the flood, or +else----no matter! Your old dad, Sir Piers--God help him!--had the +gingerbread, _that_ I know; he was, as we say, a regular rhino-cerical +cull. You won't feel a few thousands, especially at starting; and +besides, there are two others, Rust and Wilder, who row in the same boat +with me, and must therefore come in for their share of the reg'lars. +All this considered, you can't complain, I think if I ask five thousand +for it. That old harridan, Lady Rookwood, offered me nearly as much." + +"I will not talk to you of fairness," said Luke; "I will not say that +document belongs of right to me. It fell by accident into your hands. +Having possessed yourself of it, I blame you not that you dispose of it +to the best advantage. I must, perforce, agree to your terms." + +"Oh, no," replied Dick, "it's quite optional; Lady Rookwood will give as +much, and make no mouths about it. Soho, lass! What makes Bess prick her +ears in that fashion?--Ha! carriage-wheels in the distance! that jade +knows the sound as well as I do. I'll just see what it's like!--you will +have ten minutes for reflection. Who knows if I may not have come in for +a good thing here?" + +At that instant the carriage passed the angle of a rock some three +hundred yards distant, and was seen slowly ascending the hill-side. +Eager as a hawk after his quarry, Turpin dashed after it. + +In vain the sexton, whom he nearly overthrew in his career, called after +him to halt. He sped like a bolt from the bow. + +"May the devil break his neck!" cried Peter, as he saw him dash through +the brook; "could he not let them alone?" + +"This must not be," said Luke; "know you whose carriage it is?" + +"It is a shrine that holds the jewel that should be dearest in your +eyes," returned Peter; "haste, and arrest the spoiler's hand." + +"Whom do you mean?" asked Luke. + +"Eleanor Mowbray," replied Peter. "She is there. To the rescue--away." + +"Eleanor Mowbray!" echoed Luke--"and Sybil?----" + +At this instant a pistol-shot was heard. + +"Will you let murder be done, and upon your cousin?" cried Peter, with a +bitter look. "You are not what I took you for." + +Luke answered not, but, swift as the hound freed from the leash, darted +in the direction of the carriage. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI_ + +_ELEANOR MOWBRAY_ + + ----Mischiefs + Are like the visits of Franciscan friars, + They never come to prey upon us single. + + _Devil's Law Case._ + + +The course of our tale returns now to Eleanor Mowbray. After she had +parted from Ranulph Rookwood, and had watched him disappear beneath the +arches of the church porch, her heart sank, and, drawing herself back +within the carriage, she became a prey to the most poignant affliction. +In vain she endeavored to shake off this feeling of desolation. It would +not be. Despair had taken possession of her; the magic fabric of delight +melted away, or only gleamed to tantalize, at an unreachable distance. A +presentiment that Ranulph would never be hers had taken root in her +imagination, and overshadowed all the rest. + +While Eleanor pursued this train of reflection, the time insensibly wore +away, until the sudden stoppage of the carriage aroused the party from +their meditation. Major Mowbray perceived that the occasion of the halt +was the rapid advance of a horseman, who was nearing them at full speed. +The appearance of the rider was somewhat singular, and might have +created some uneasiness as to the nature of his approach, had not the +major immediately recognized a friend; he was, nevertheless, greatly +surprised to see him, and turned to Mrs. Mowbray to inform her that +Father Ambrose, to his infinite astonishment, was coming to meet them, +and appeared, from his manner, to be the bearer of unwelcome tidings. + +Father Ambrose was, perhaps, the only being whom Eleanor disliked. She +had felt an unaccountable antipathy towards him, which she could neither +extirpate nor control, during their long and close intimacy. It may be +necessary to mention that her religious culture had been in accordance +with the tenets of the Romish Church, in whose faith--the faith of her +ancestry--her mother had continued; and that Father Ambrose, with whom +she had first become acquainted during the residence of the family near +Bordeaux, was her ghostly adviser and confessor. An Englishman by birth, +he had been appointed pastor to the diocese in which they dwelt, and +was, consequently, a frequent visitor, almost a constant inmate of the +château; yet though duty and respect would have prompted her to regard +the father with affection, Eleanor could never conquer the feelings of +dislike and distrust which she had at first entertained towards him; a +dislike which was increased by the strange control in which he seemed to +hold her mother, who regarded him with a veneration approaching to +infatuation. It was, therefore, with satisfaction that she bade him +adieu. He had, however, followed his friends to England under a feigned +name as--being a recusant Romish priest, and supposed to have been +engaged in certain Jesuitical plots, his return to his own country was +attended with considerable risk--, and had now remained domesticated +with them for some months. That he had been in some way, in early life, +connected with a branch of the house of Rookwood, Eleanor was aware--she +fancied he might have been engaged in political intrigue with Sir +Reginald, which would have well accorded with his ardent, ambitious +temperament--, and the knowledge of this circumstance made her doubly +apprehensive lest the nature of his present communication should have +reference to her lover, towards whose cause the father had never been +favorable, and respecting whose situation he might have made some +discovery, which she feared he might use to Ranulph's disadvantage. + +Wrapped in a long black cloak, with a broad-brimmed hat drawn closely +over his brows, it was impossible to distinguish further of the priest's +figure and features beyond the circumstance of his height, which was +remarkable, until he had reached the carriage window, when, raising his +hat, he disclosed a head that Titian might have painted, and which, +arising from the dark drapery, looked not unlike the visage of some +grave and saturnine Venetian. There was a venerable expanse of forehead, +thinly scattered with hair, towering over black pent-house-like brows, +which, in their turn, shadowed keen penetrating eyes; the temples were +hollow, and blue veins might be traced beneath the sallow skin; the +cheek-bones were high, and there was something in the face that spoke of +self-mortification; while the thin livid lips, closely compressed, and +the austere and sinister expression of his countenance, showed that his +self-abasement, if he had ever practised it, had scarcely prostrated the +demon of pride, whose dominion might still be traced in the lines and +furrows of his haughty physiognomy. The father looked at Mrs. Mowbray, +and then glanced suspiciously at Eleanor. The former appeared to +understand him. + +"You would say a word to me in private," said Mrs. Mowbray; "shall I +descend?" + +The priest bowed assent. + +"It is not to you alone that my mission extends," said he, gravely; "you +are all in part concerned; your son had better alight with you." + +"Instantly," replied the major. "If you will give your horse in charge +to the postilion, we will attend you at once." + +With a feeling of renewed apprehension, connected, she knew not why, +with Ranulph, Eleanor beheld her relatives descend from the carriage; +and, in the hope of gaining some clue from their gestures to the subject +of their conversation, she watched their motions as narrowly as her +situation permitted. From the earnest manner of the priest, and the +interest his narrative seemed to excite in his hearers, it was evident +that his communication was of importance. + +Presently, accompanied by Father Ambrose, Mrs. Mowbray returned to the +carriage, while the major, mounting the priest's horse, after bidding a +hasty adieu to his sister, adding, with a look that belied the +consolation intended to be conveyed by his words, that "all was well," +but without staying to offer her any explanation of the cause of his +sudden departure, rode back the way they had just traversed, and in the +direction of Rookwood. Bereft of the only person to whom she could have +applied for information, though dying with curiosity and anxiety to know +the meaning of this singular interview and of the sudden change of plans +which she felt so intimately concerned herself, Eleanor was constrained +to preserve silence, as, after their entrance into the carriage, her +mother again seemed lost in painful reflection, and heeded her not; and +the father, drawing from his pocket a small volume, appeared intently +occupied in its perusal. + +"Dear mother," said Eleanor, at length, turning to Mrs. Mowbray, "my +brother is gone----" + +"To Rookwood," said Mrs. Mowbray, in a tone calculated to check further +inquiry; but Eleanor was too anxious to notice it. + +"And wherefore, mother?" said she. "May I not be informed?" + +"Not as yet, my child--not as yet," replied Mrs. Mowbray. "You will +learn all sufficiently early." + +The priest raised his cat-like eyes from the book to watch the effect of +this speech, and dropped them instantly as Eleanor turned towards him. +She had been about to appeal to him, but having witnessed this look, she +relinquished her scarce-formed purpose, and endeavored to divert her +tristful thoughts by gazing through the glimmering medium of her tears +upon the soothing aspect of external nature--that aspect which, in +sunshine or in storm, has ever relief in store for a heart embittered by +the stormy coldness of the world. + +The road, meanwhile, led them through a long woody valley, and was now +climbing the sides of a steep hill. They were soon in the vicinity of +the priory, and of the gipsies' encampment. The priest leaned forward, +and whispered something in Mrs. Mowbray's ear, who looked towards the +ruined shrine, part of the mouldering walls being visible from the road. + +At the moment the clatter of a horse's hoofs, and the sound of a loud +voice, commanding the postilion, in a menacing tone, to stop, +accompanied by a volley of imprecations, interrupted the conference, and +bespoke the approach of an unwelcome intruder, and one whom all, too +truly, feared would not be readily dismissed. The postilion did his best +to rid them of the assailant. Perceiving a masked horseman behind him, +approaching at a furious rate, he had little doubt as to his intentions, +and Turpin, for it was our highwayman, soon made his doubts certainties. +He hallooed to him to stop; but the fellow paid no attention to his +command, and disregarded even the pistol which he saw, in a casual +glimpse over his near side, presented at his person. Clapping spurs into +his horse's flanks, he sought succor in flight. Turpin was by his side +in an instant. As the highwayman endeavored to catch his reins, the lad +suddenly wheeled the carriage right upon him, and but for the dexterity +of Turpin, and the clever conduct of his mare, would inevitably have +crushed him against the roadside. As it was, his left leg was slightly +grazed. Irritated at this, Turpin fired over the man's head, and with +the butt-end of the pistol felled him from his seat. Startled by the +sound, and no longer under the governance of their rider, the horses +rushed with frantic violence towards a ditch that bounded the other side +of the highway, down which the carriage was precipitated, and at once +overturned. Turpin's first act, after he had ascertained that no +mischief had been occasioned to those within, beyond the alarm incident +to the shock, was to compel the postilion, who had by this time gained +his legs, to release the horses from their traces. This done, with the +best grace he could assume, and, adjusting his mask, he opened the +carriage, and proceeded to liberate the captives. + +"Beg pardon, ma'am," said he, as soon as he had released Mrs. Mowbray; +"excessively sorry, upon my soul, to have been the cause of so much +unnecessary alarm to you--all the fault, I assure you, of that rascal of +a postilion; had the fellow only pulled up when I commanded him, this +botheration might have been avoided. You will remember that, when you +pay him--all his fault, I assure you, ma'am." + +Receiving no reply, he proceeded to extricate Eleanor, with whose beauty +the inflammable highwayman was instantly smitten. Leaving the father to +shift for himself, he turned to address some observation of coarse +gallantry to her; but she eluded his grasp, and flew to her mother's +side. + +"It is useless, sir," said Mrs. Mowbray, as Turpin drew near them, "to +affect ignorance of your intentions. You have already occasioned us +serious alarm; much delay and inconvenience. I trust, therefore, that +beyond our purses, to which, though scantily supplied, you are welcome, +we shall sustain no molestation. You seem to have less of the ruffian +about you than the rest of your lawless race, and are not, I should +hope, destitute of common humanity." + +"Common humanity!" replied Turpin: "bless you, ma'am, I'm the most +humane creature breathing--would not hurt a fly, much less a lady. +Incivility was never laid to my charge. This business may be managed in +a few seconds; and as soon as we have settled the matter, I'll lend your +stupid jack-boy a hand to put the horses to the carriage again, and get +the wheels out of the ditch. You have a banker, ma'am, I suppose, in +town--perhaps in the country; but I don't like country bankers; besides, +I want a little ready cash in Rumville--beg pardon, ma'am, London I +mean. My ears have been so stunned with those Romany patterers, I +almost _think_ in flash. Just draw me a check; I've pen and ink always +ready: a check for fifty pounds, ma'am--only fifty. What's your banker's +name? I've blank checks of all the best houses in my pocket; that and a +kiss from the pretty lips of that cherry-cheeked maid," winking to +Eleanor, "will fully content me. You see you have neither an exorbitant +nor uncivil personage to deal with." + +Eleanor shrank closer towards her mother. Exhausted by previous +agitation of the night, greatly frightened by the shock which she had +just sustained, and still more alarmed by the words and gestures of the +highwayman, she felt that she was momentarily in danger of fainting, and +with difficulty prevented herself from falling. The priest, who had +succeeded in freeing himself from the carriage, now placed himself +between Turpin and the ladies. + +"Be satisfied, misguided man," said the father, in a stern voice, +offering a purse, which Mrs. Mowbray hastily extended towards him, "with +the crime you have already committed, and seek not to peril your soul by +deeper guilt; be content with the plunder you now obtain, and depart; +for, by my holy calling, I affirm to you, that if you advance one +footstep towards the further molestation of these ladies, it shall be at +the hazard of your life." + +"Bravo!" exclaimed Turpin. "Now this is what I like; who would have +thought the old autem-bawler had so much pluck in him? Sir, I commend +you for your courage, but you are mistaken. I am the quietest man +breathing, and never harm a human being; in proof of which, only look at +your rascal of a postilion, whom any one of my friends would have sent +post-haste to the devil for half the trouble he gave me. Easy as I am, I +never choose to be balked in my humors. I must have the fifty and the +buss, and then I'm off, as soon as you like; and I may as well have the +kiss while the old lady signs the check, and then we shall have the seal +as well as the signature. Poh--poh--no nonsense! Many a pretty lass has +thought it an honor to be kissed by Turpin." + +Eleanor recoiled with deepest disgust, as she saw the highwayman thrust +aside the useless opposition of the priest, and approach her. He had +removed his mask; his face, flushed with insolent triumph, was turned +towards her. Despite the loathing, which curdled the blood within her +veins, she could not avert her eyes. He drew near her; she uttered a +shrill scream. At that moment a powerful grasp was laid upon Turpin's +shoulder; he turned and beheld Luke. + +"Save me! save me," cried Eleanor, addressing the new comer. + +"Damnation!" said the highwayman, "what has brought _you_ here? one +would think you were turned assistant to all distressed damsels. Quit +your hold, or, by the God above us, you will repent it." + +"Fool!" exclaimed Luke, "talk thus to one who heeds you." And as he +spoke he hurled Turpin backwards with so much force that, staggering a +few yards, the highwayman fell to the ground. + +The priest stood like one stunned with surprise at Luke's sudden +appearance and subsequent daring action. + +Luke, meanwhile, approached Eleanor. He gazed upon her with curiosity +mixed with admiration, for his heart told him she was very fair. A +deathlike paleness had spread over her cheeks; yet still, despite the +want of color, she looked exquisitely beautiful, and her large blue eyes +eloquently thanked her deliverer for her rescue. The words she wanted +were supplied by Mrs. Mowbray, who thanked him in appropriate terms, +when they were interrupted by Turpin, who had by this time picked +himself up, and was drawing near them. His countenance wore a fierce +expression. + +"I tell you what," said he, "Luke Bradley, or Luke Rookwood, or whatever +else you may call yourself, you have taken a damned unfair advantage of +me in this matter, and deserve nothing better at my hands than that I +should call you to instant account for it--and curse me, if I don't +too." + +"Luke Bradley!" interrupted Mrs. Mowbray--"are you that individual?" + +"I have been so called, madam," replied Luke. + +"Father Ambrose, is this the person of whom you spoke?" eagerly asked +the lady. + +"So I conclude," returned the priest, evasively. + +"Did he not call you Luke Rookwood?" eagerly demanded Eleanor. "Is that +also your name?" + +"Rookwood is my name, fair cousin," replied Luke, "if I may venture to +call you so." + +"And Ranulph Rookwood is----" + +"My brother." + +"I never heard he had a brother," rejoined Eleanor, with some agitation. +"How can that be?" + +"I am his brother, nevertheless," replied Luke, moodily--"his ELDER +BROTHER!" + +Eleanor turned to her mother and the priest with a look of imploring +anguish; she saw a confirmation of the truth of this statement in their +glances. No contradiction was offered by either to his statement; both, +indeed, appeared in some mysterious manner prepared for it. This, then, +was the dreaded secret. This was the cause of her brother's sudden +departure. The truth flashed with lightning swiftness across her brain. + +Chagrined and mortified, Luke remarked that glance of inquiry. His pride +was hurt at the preference thus naturally shown towards his brother. He +had been struck, deeply struck, with her beauty. He acknowledged the +truth of Peter's words. Eleanor's loveliness was without parallel. He +had seen naught so fair, and the instant he beheld her, he felt that for +_her_ alone could he cancel his vows to Sybil. The spirit of rivalry and +jealousy was instantly aroused by Eleanor's exclamations. + +"His elder brother!" echoed Eleanor, dwelling upon his words, and +addressing Luke--"then you must be--but no, you are not, you cannot +be--it is Ranulph's title--it is not yours--you are not----" + +"I am Sir Luke Rookwood," replied Luke, proudly. + +Ere the words were uttered Eleanor had fainted. + +"Assistance is at hand, madam, if you will accept it, and follow me," +said Luke, raising the insensible girl in his arms, and bearing her down +the hill towards the encampment, whither he was followed by Mrs. Mowbray +and the priest, between whom, during the hurried dialogue we have +detailed, very significant glances had been exchanged. Turpin, who, as +it may be supposed, had not been an incurious observer of the scene +passing, burst into his usual loud laugh on seeing Luke bear away his +lovely burden. + +"Cousin! Ha, ha!" said he. "So the wench is his cousin. Damme, I half +suspect he has fallen in love with his new-found cousin; and if so, Miss +Sybil, or I'm mistaken, will look as yellow as a guinea. If that little +Spanish devil gets it into her pretty jealous pate that he is about to +bring home a new mistress, we shall have a tragedy-scene in the +twinkling of a bed-post. However, I shan't lose sight of Sir Luke until +I have settled my accounts with him. Hark ye, boy," continued he, +addressing the postilion; "remain where you are; you won't be wanted yet +awhile, I imagine. There's a guinea for you, to drink Dick Turpin's +health." + +Upon which he mounted his mare, and walked her easily down the hill. + +"And so that be Dick Turpin, folks talk so much about," soliloquized the +lad, looking curiously after him; "well, he's as civil-speaking a chap +as need be, blow my boots if he ain't! and if I'd had a notion it were +he, I'd have pulled up at first call, without more ado. Nothing like +experience--I shall know better another time," added he, pocketing the +douceur. + +Rushing swiftly down the hill, Luke tarried at the river's brink, to +sprinkle some of the cool element upon the pale brow of Eleanor. As he +held her in his arms, thoughts which he fain would have stifled in their +birth took possession of his heart. "Would she were mine!" murmured he. +"Yet no! the wish is unworthy." But that wish returned unbidden. + +Eleanor opened her eyes. She was still too weak to walk without support, +and Luke, raising her once more in his arms, and motioning Mrs. Mowbray +to follow, crossed the brook by means of stepping-stones, and conducted +his charge along a bypath towards the priory, so as to avoid meeting +with the crew assembled upon the green. + +They had gained one of the roofless halls, when he encountered +Balthazar. Astonished at the sight of the party, the patrico was about +to address the priest as an acquaintance, when his more orthodox brother +raised his finger to his lips, in token of caution. The action passed +unobserved. + +"Hie thee to Sybil," said Luke to the patrico. "Bid her haste hither. +Say that this maiden--that Miss Mowbray is here, and requires her aid. +Fly! I will bear her to the refectory." + +As Balthazar passed the priest, he pointed with a significant glance +towards a chasm in the wall, which seemed to be an opening to some +subterraneous chamber. The father again made a gesture of silence, and +Balthazar hastened upon his mission. + +Luke led them to the refectory. He brought a chair for Eleanor's +support; but so far from reviving, after such attention as could be +afforded her, she appeared to become weaker. He was about to issue forth +in search of Sybil, when to his surprise he found the door fastened. + +"You cannot pass this way," said a voice, which Luke instantly +recognized as that of the knight of Malta. + +"Not pass!" echoed Luke. "What does this mean?" + +"Our orders are from the queen," returned the knight. + +At this instant the low tone of a muffled bell was heard. + +"Ha!" exclaimed Luke; "some danger is at hand." + +His heart smote him as he thought of Sybil, and he looked anxiously +towards Eleanor. + +Balthazar rushed into the room. + +"Where is Sybil?" cried Luke. "Will she not come?" + +"She will be here anon," answered the patrico. + +"I will seek her myself, then," said Luke. "The door by which you +entered is free." + +"It is _not_ free," replied Balthazar. "Remain where you are." + +"Who will prevent my going forth?" demanded Luke, sternly. + +"I will," said Barbara Lovel, as she suddenly appeared in the doorway. +"You stir not, excepting at my pleasure. Where is the maiden?" continued +she, looking around with a grim smile of satisfaction at the +consternation produced by her appearance. "Ha! I see; she faints. Here +is a cordial that shall revive her. Mrs. Mowbray, you are welcome to the +gipsies' dwelling--you and your daughter. And you, Sir Luke Rookwood, I +congratulate you upon your accession of dignity." Turning to the priest, +who was evidently overwhelmed with confusion, she exclaimed, "And you +too, sir, think you I recognize you not? We have met ere this, at +Rookwood. Know you not Barbara Lovel? Ha, ha! It is long since my poor +dwelling has been so highly honored. But I must not delay the remedy. +Let her drink of this," said she, handing a phial to Mrs. Mowbray. "It +will instantly restore her." + +"It is poison," cried Luke. "She shall not drink it." + +"Poison!" reiterated Barbara. "Behold!" and she drank of the liquid. "I +would not poison your bride," added she, turning to Luke. + +"My bride!" echoed Luke. + +"Ay, your bride," repeated Barbara. + +Luke recoiled in amazement. Mrs. Mowbray almost felt inclined to believe +she was a dreamer, so visionary did the whole scene appear. A dense +crowd of witnesses stood at the entrance. Foremost amongst them was the +sexton. Suddenly a shriek was heard, and the crowd opening to allow her +passage, Sybil rushed forward. + + + + +_CHAPTER VII_ + +_MRS. MOWBRAY_ + + Well, go thy ways, old Nick Machiavel, there will never be the peer + of thee for wholesome policy and good counsel: thou took'st pains to + chalk men out the dark paths and hidden plots of murther and deceit, + and no man has the grace to follow thee. The age is unthankful, thy + principles are quite forsaken, and worn out of memory. + + SHAKERLEY MARMION'S _Antiquary_. + + +Sybil's sudden entrance filled the group that surrounded Miss Mowbray +with new dismay. But she saw them not. Her soul seemed riveted by +Eleanor, towards whom she rushed; and while her eye wandered over her +beauty, she raised the braided hair from her brow, revealing the clear, +polished forehead. Wonder, awe, devotion, pity, usurped the place of +hatred. The fierce expression that had lit up her dark orbs was +succeeded by tender commiseration. She looked an imploring appeal at +Barbara. + +"Ay, ay," returned the old gipsy, extending at the same time the phial; +"I understand. Here is that will bring the blood once more into her +pallid cheeks, and kindle the fire within her eyes. Give her of this." + +The effect of the potion was almost instantaneous, amply attesting +Barbara's skill in its concoction. Stifled respiration first proclaimed +Eleanor's recovery. She opened her large and languid eyes; her bosom +heaved almost to bursting; her pulses throbbed quickly and feverishly; +and as the stimulant operated, the wild lustre of excitement blazed in +her eyes. + +Sybil took her hand to chafe it. The eyes of the two maidens met. They +gazed upon each other steadfastly and in silence. Eleanor knew not whom +she regarded, but she could not mistake that look of sympathy; she could +not mistake the tremulous pressure of her hand; she felt the silent +trickling tears. She returned the sympathizing glance, and gazed with +equal wonder upon the ministering fairy, for such she almost seemed, +that knelt before her. As her looks wandered from the kindly glance of +Sybil to the withered and inauspicious aspect of the gipsy queen, and +shifted thence to the dusky figures of her attendants, filled with +renewed apprehension, she exclaimed, "Who are these, and where am I?" + +"You are in safety," replied Luke. "This is the ruined priory of St. +Francis; and those strange personages are a horde of gipsies. You need +fear no injury from them." + +"My deliverer!" murmured Eleanor; when all at once the recollection that +he had avowed himself a Rookwood, and the elder brother of Ranulph, +flashed across her memory. "Gipsies! did you not say these people were +gipsies? Your own attire is the same as theirs. You are not, cannot be, +the brother of Ranulph." + +"I do not boast the same mother," returned Luke, proudly, "but my father +was Sir Piers Rookwood, and I am his elder born." + +He turned away. Dark thoughts swept across his brain. Maddened by the +beauty of Eleanor, stung by her slights, and insensible to the silent +agony of Sybil, who sought in vain to catch his eye, he thought of +nothing but of revenge, and the accomplishment of his purposes. All +within was a wild and fearful turmoil. His better principles were +stifled by the promptings of evil. "Methinks," cried he, half aloud, "if +the Tempter were near to offer the maiden to me, even at the peril of my +soul's welfare, I could not resist it." + +The Tempter _was_ at hand. He is seldom absent on occasions like the +present. The sexton stood beside his grandson. Luke started. He eyed +Peter from head to foot, almost expecting to find the cloven foot, +supposed to be proper to the fiend. Peter grinned in ghastly derision. + +"Soh! you would summon hell to your aid; and lo! the devil is at your +elbow. Well, she is yours." + +"Make good your words," cried Luke, impatiently. + +"Softly--softly," returned Peter. "Moderate yourself, and your wishes +shall be accomplished. Your own desires chime with those of others; nay, +with those of Barbara. _She_ would wed you to Miss Mowbray. You stare. +But it is so. This is a cover for some deeper plot; no matter. It shall +go hard, despite her cunning, if I foil her not at her own weapons. +There is more mischief in that old woman's brain than was ever hatched +within the crocodile's egg; yet she shall find her match. Do not thwart +her; leave all to me. She is about it now," added he, noticing Barbara +and Mrs. Mowbray in conference together. "Be patient--I will watch her." +And he quitted his grandson for the purpose of scanning more closely the +manœuvres of the old gipsy. + +Barbara, meanwhile, had not remained inactive. + +"You need fear no relapse in your daughter; I will answer for that," +said the old gipsy to Mrs. Mowbray; "Sybil will tend her. Quit not the +maiden's side," continued she, addressing her grandchild, adding, in a +whisper, "Be cautious--alarm her not--mine eye will be upon you--drop +not a word." + +So saying, she shuffled to a little distance with Mrs. Mowbray, keeping +Sybil in view, and watching every motion, as the panther watches the +gambols of a fawn. + +"Know you who speaks to you?" said the old crone, in the peculiar low +and confidential tone assumed by her tribe to strangers. "Have you +forgotten the name of Barbara Lovel?" + +"I have no distinct remembrance of it," returned Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Think again," said Barbara; "and though years are flown, you may +perchance recall the black gipsy woman, who, when you were surrounded +with gay gallants, with dancing plumes, perused your palm, and whispered +in your ear the favored suitor's name. Bide with me a moment, madam," +said Barbara, seeing that Mrs. Mowbray shrank from the recollection thus +conjured up; "I am old--very old; I have survived the shows of flattery, +and being vested with a power over my people, am apt, perchance, to take +too much upon myself with others." The old gipsy paused here, and then, +assuming a more familiar tone, exclaimed, "The estates of Rookwood are +ample----" + +"Woman, what mean you?" + +"They should have been yours, lady, and would have been, but for that +marriage. You would have beseemed them bravely. Sir Reginald was wilful, +and erased the daughter's name to substitute that of his son. Pity it is +that so fair a creature as Miss Mowbray should lack the dower her beauty +and her birth entitle her to expect. Pity that Ranulph Rookwood should +lose his title, at the moment when he deemed it was dropping into his +possession. Pity that those broad lands should pass away from you and +your children, as they will do, if Ranulph and Eleanor are united." + +"They never shall be united," replied Mrs. Mowbray, hastily. + +"'Twere indeed to wed your child to beggary," said Barbara. + +Mrs. Mowbray sighed deeply. + +"There is a way," continued the old crone, in a deep whisper, "by which +the estates might still be hers and yours." + +"Indeed!" said Mrs. Mowbray, eagerly. + +"Sir Piers Rookwood had two sons." + +"Ha!" + +"The elder is here." + +"Luke--Sir Luke. He brought us hither." + +"He loves your daughter. I saw his gaze of passion just now. I am old +now, but I have some skill in lovers' glances. Why not wed her to him? I +read hands--read hearts, you know. They were born for each other. Now, +madam, do you understand me?" + +"But," returned Mrs. Mowbray, with hesitation, "though I might wish +for--though I might sanction this, Eleanor is betrothed to Ranulph--she +loves him." + +"Think not of _her_, if _you_ are satisfied. She cannot judge so well +for herself as you can for her. She is a child, and knows not what she +loves. Her affection will soon be Luke's. He is a noble youth--the image +of his grandfather, your father, Sir Reginald; and if your daughter be +betrothed to any one, 'twas to the heir of Rookwood. That was an +essential part of the contract. Why should the marriage not take place +at once, and here?" + +"Here! How were that possible?" + +"You are within sacred walls. I will take you where an altar stands. +There is no lack of holy priest to join their hands together. Your +companion, Father Ambrose, as you call him, will do the office +fittingly. He has essayed his clerkly skill already on others of your +house." + +"To what do you allude, mysterious woman?" asked Mrs. Mowbray, with +anxiety. + +"To Sir Piers and Susan Bradley," returned Barbara. "That priest united +them." + +"Indeed! He never told me this." + +"He dared not do so; he had an oath which bound him to concealment. The +time is coming when greater mysteries will be revealed." + +"'Tis strange I should not have heard of this before," said Mrs. +Mowbray, musingly; "and yet I might have guessed as much from his +obscure hints respecting Ranulph. I see it all now. I see the gulf into +which I might have been plunged; but I am warned in time. Father +Ambrose," continued she, to the priest, who was pacing the chamber at +some little distance from them, "is it true that my brother was wedded +by you to Susan Bradley?" + +Ere the priest could reply the sexton presented himself. + +"Ha, the very father of the girl!" said Mrs. Mowbray, "whom I met within +our family vault, and who was so strangely moved when I spoke to him of +Alan Rookwood. Is he here likewise?" + +"Alan Rookwood!" echoed Barbara, upon whom a light seemed suddenly to +break; "ha! what said he of him?" + +"Ill-boding raven," interposed Peter, fiercely, "be content with what +thou knowest of the living, and trouble not the repose of the dead. Let +them rest in their infamy." + +"The dead!" echoed Barbara, with a chuckling laugh; "ha! ha! he is dead, +then; and what became of his fair wife--his brother's minion? 'Twas a +foul deed, I grant, and yet there was expiation. Blood flowed--blood----" + +"Silence, thou night hag!" thundered Peter, "or I will have thee burned +at the stake for the sorcery thou practisest. Beware," added he, in a +deep tone--"I am thy friend." + +Barbara's withered countenance exhibited for an instant the deepest +indignation at the sexton's threat. The malediction trembled on her +tongue; she raised her staff to smite him, but she checked the action. +In the same tone, and with a sharp, suspicious look, she replied, "My +_friend_, sayest thou? See that it prove so, or beware of _me_." + +And, with a malignant scowl, the gipsy queen slowly shuffled towards her +satellites, who were stationed at the door. + + + + +_CHAPTER VIII_ + +_THE PARTING_ + + No marriage I esteem it, where the friends + Force love upon their children; where the virgin + Is not so truly given as betrayed. + I would not have betrothed people--for + I can by no means call them lovers--make + Their rites no wedlock, but a sacrifice. + + _Combat of Love and Friendship._ + + +Eleanor Mowbray had witnessed her mother's withdrawal from her side with +much uneasiness, and was with difficulty prevented by Sybil from +breaking upon her conference with the gipsy queen. Barbara's dark eye +was fixed upon them during the whole of the interview, and communicated +an indefinite sense of dread to Eleanor. + +"Who--who is that old woman?" asked Eleanor, under her breath. "Never, +even in my wildest dreams, have I seen aught so terrible. Why does she +look so at us? She terrifies me; and yet she cannot mean me ill, or my +mother--we have never injured her?" + +"Alas!" sighed Sybil. + +"You sigh!" exclaimed Eleanor, in alarm. "Is there any real danger, +then? Help us to avoid it. Quick, warn my mother; she seems agitated. +Oh, let me go to her." + +"Hush!" whispered Sybil, maintaining an unmoved demeanor under the +lynx-like gaze of Barbara. "Stir not, as you value your life; you know +not where you are, or what may befall you. Your safety depends upon your +composure. Your life is not in danger; but what is dearer than life, +your love, is threatened with a fatal blow. There is a dark design to +wed you to another." + +"Heavens!" ejaculated Eleanor, "and to whom?" + +"To Sir Luke Rookwood." + +"I would die sooner! Marry _him_? They shall kill me ere they force me +to it!" + +"Could you not love him?" + +"Love him! I have only seen him within this hour. I knew not of his +existence. He rescued me from peril. I would thank him. I would love +him, if I could, for Ranulph's sake; and yet for Ranulph's sake I hate +him." + +"Speak not of him thus to me," said Sybil, angrily. "If _you_ love him +not, _I_ love him. Oh! forgive me, lady; pardon my impatience--my heart +is breaking, yet it has not ceased to beat for him. You say you will die +sooner than consent to this forced union. Your faith shall not be so +cruelly attested. If there must be a victim, I will be the sacrifice. +God grant I may be the only one. Be happy! as happy as I am wretched. +You shall see what the love of a gipsy can do." + +As she spoke, Sybil burst into a flood of passionate tears. Eleanor +regarded her with the deepest commiseration; but the feeling was +transient; for Barbara, now advancing, exclaimed: "Hence to your mother. +The bridegroom is waiting: to your mother, girl!" And she motioned +Eleanor fiercely away. "What means this?" continued the old gipsy. "What +have you said to that girl? Did I not caution you against speech with +her? and you have dared to disobey me. You, my grandchild--the daughter +of my Agatha, with whom my slightest wish was law. I abandon you! I +curse you!" + +"Oh, curse me not!" cried Sybil. "Add not to my despair." + +"Then follow my advice implicitly. Cast off this weakness; all is in +readiness. Luke shall descend into the vaulted chapel, the ceremony +shall there take place--there also shall Eleanor _die_--and there again +shall you be wedded. Take this phial, place it within the folds of your +girdle. When all is over, I will tell you how to use it. Are you +prepared? Shall we set out?" + +"I am prepared," replied Sybil, in accents hollow as despair; "but let +me speak with Luke before we go." + +"Be brief, then--each moment is precious. Keep a guard upon your tongue. +I will to Mrs. Mowbray. You have placed the phial in safety. A drop will +free you from your troubles." + +"'Tis in that hope I guard it," replied Sybil, as she departed in the +direction of Luke. Barbara watched her join him, and then turned shortly +towards Mrs. Mowbray and her daughter. + +"You are ill, dear Luke," said Sybil, who had silently approached her +faithless lover; "very ill." + +"Ill!" echoed Luke, breaking into frantic laughter. "Ill! Ha, ha!--upon +my wedding-day. No, I am well--well. Your eyes are jaundiced by +jealousy." + +"Luke, dear Luke, laugh not thus. It terrifies me. I shall think you +insane. There, you are calmer--you are more like yourself--more human. +You looked just now--oh God! that I should say it of you--as if you were +possessed by demons." + +"And if I were possessed, what then?" + +"Horrible! hint not at it. You almost make me credit the dreadful tales +I have heard, that on their wedding-day the Rookwoods are subject to the +power of the 'Evil One.'" + +"Upon their wedding-day--and _I_ look thus?" + +"You do--you do. Oh! cast this frenzy from you." + +"She is mine--she is mine! I care not though fiends possess me, if it is +my wedding-day, and Eleanor is my bride. And you say I look like a +Rookwood. Ha, ha!" + +"That wild laughter again. Luke, I implore you, hear me one word--my +last----" + +"I will not bear reproaches." + +"I mean not to reproach you. I come to bless you--to forgive you--to bid +you farewell. Will you not say farewell?" + +"Farewell." + +"Not so--not so. Mercy! my God! compassionate him and me! My heart will +break with agony. Luke, if you would not kill me, recall that word. Let +not the guilt of my death be yours. 'Tis to save you from that remorse +that I die!" + +"Sybil, you have said rightly, I am not myself. I know not what demons +have possession of my soul, that I can behold your agonies without +remorse; that your matchless affection should awaken no return. Yet so +it is. Since the fatal moment when I beheld yon maid, I have loved her." + +"No more. _Now_ I can part with you. Farewell!" + +"Stay, stay! wretch that I am. Stay, Sybil! If we must part--and that it +_must_ be so I feel--let me receive your pardon, if you can bestow it. +Let me clasp you once more within my arms. May you live to happier +days--may you----" + +"Oh, to die thus!" sobbed Sybil, disengaging herself from his embrace. +"Live to happier days, said you? When have _I_ given you reason to +doubt, for an instant, the sincerity of _my_ love, that you should +insult me thus?" + +"Then live with me--live for me." + +"If you can love me still, I will live as your slave, your minion, your +wife; aught you will have me be. You have raised me from wretchedness. +Oh!" continued she in an altered tone, "have I mistaken your meaning? +Did you utter those words in false compassion for my sufferings?--Speak, +it is not yet too late--all may be well. My fate--my life is in your +hands. If you love me yet--if you can forsake Eleanor, speak--if not, be +silent." + +Luke averted his head. + +"Enough!" continued Sybil, in a voice of agony; "I understand. May God +forgive you! Fare you well! We shall meet no more." + +"Do we part for ever?" asked Luke, without daring to regard her. + +"FOR EVER!" answered Sybil. + +Before her lover could reply, she shot from his side, and plunging +amidst the dark and dense assemblage near the door, disappeared from +view. An instant after, she emerged into the open air. She stood within +the roofless hall. It was filled with sunshine--with the fresh breath of +morn. The ivied ruins, the grassy floor, the blue vault of heaven, +seemed to greet her with a benignant smile. All was _riant_ and +rejoicing--all, save her heart. Amid such brightness, her sorrow seemed +harsh and unnatural; as she felt the glad influence of day, she was +scarcely able to refrain from tears. It was terrible to leave this +beautiful world, that blue sky, that sunshine, and all she loved--so +young, so soon. + +Entering a low arch that yawned within the wall, she vanished like a +ghost at the approach of morn. + + + + +_CHAPTER IX_ + +_THE PHILTER_ + + Thou hast practised on her with foul charms-- + Abused her delicate youth with drugs and minerals. + + SHAKSPEARE: _Othello_. + + +To return to Eleanor Mowbray. In a state of mind bordering upon +distraction, she rushed to her mother, and, flinging her arms wildly +round her neck, besought her to protect her. Mrs. Mowbray gazed +anxiously upon the altered countenance of her daughter, but a few +moments relieved her from much of her uneasiness.--The expression of +pain gradually subsided, and the look of vacuity was succeeded by one of +frenzied excitement. A film had, for an instant or two, dimmed her eyes; +they now gleamed with unnatural lustre. She smiled--the smile was +singular; it was not the playful, pleasurable lighting up of the face +that it used to be; but it _was_ a smile, and the mother's heart was +satisfied. + +Mrs. Mowbray knew not to what circumstance she could attribute this +wondrous change. She looked at the priest. He was more apt in divining +the probable cause of the sudden alteration in Eleanor's manner. + +"What if she has swallowed a love-powder?" said he, approaching Mrs. +Mowbray, and speaking in a whisper. "I have heard of such abominable +mixtures; indeed, the holy St. Jerome himself relates an instance of +similar sorcery, in his life of Hilarius; and these people are said to +compound them." + +"It may be so," replied Mrs. Mowbray, in the same tone. "I think that +the peculiar softness in the eye is more than natural." + +"I will at least hazard an experiment, to attest the truth or fallacy of +my supposition," returned the father. "Do you see your destined +bridegroom yonder?" continued he, addressing Eleanor. + +She followed with her eyes in the direction which Father Ambrose +pointed. She beheld Luke. We know not how to describe the sensations +which now possessed her. She thought not of Ranulph; or, if she did, it +was with vague indifference. Wrapped in a kind of mental trance, she +yielded to the pleasurable impulse that directed her unsettled fancies +towards Luke. For some moments she did not take her eyes from him. The +priest and Mrs. Mowbray watched her in silence. + +Nothing passed between the party till Luke joined them. Eleanor +continued gazing at him, and the seeming tenderness of her glance +emboldened Luke to advance towards her. The soft fire that dwelt in +those orbs was, however, cold as the shining wing of the luciola. + +Luke approached her; he took her hand--she withdrew it not. He kissed +it. Still she withdrew it not, but gazed at him with gently-glimmering +eyes. + +"My daughter is yours, Sir Luke Rookwood," exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray. + +"What says the maid herself?" asked Luke. + +Eleanor answered not. Her eyes were still fixed on him. + +"She will not refuse me her hand," said Luke. + +The victim resisted not. + +"To the subterranean shrine," cried Barbara. And she gave the +preconcerted signal to the band. + +The signal was repeated by the gipsy crew. We may here casually note, +that the crew had been by no means uninterested or silent spectators of +passing events, but had, on the contrary, indulged themselves in a +variety of conjectures as to their probable issue. Several bets were +pending as to whether it would be a match or not after all. Zoroaster +took long odds that the match was off--offering a _bean_ to +_half-a-quid_--in other words, a guinea to a half-guinea--that Sybil +would be the bride. His offer was taken at once by Jerry Juniper, and +backed by the knight of Malta. + +"Ha! there's the signal," cried the knight; "I'll trouble you for the +bean." + +"And I," added Jerry Juniper, "for another." + +"See 'em fairly spliced first," replied the Magus; "that's vot I +betted." + +"Vell, vell, a few minutes will settle that. Come, pals, to the autem +ken. Avay. Mind and obey orders." + +"Ay, ay," answered the crew. + +"Here's a torch for the altar of Hymen," said the knight, flashing his +torch in the eyes of the patrico as he passed him. + +"For the halter of Haman, you might say," returned Balthazar, sulkily. +"It's well if some of us don't swing for it." + +"You don't say," rejoined the perplexed Magus, "swing! Egad I fear it's +a ticklish business. But there's no fighting shy, I fear, with Barbara +present; and then there's that infernal autem-bawler; it will be so +cursedly regular. If you had done the job, Balty, it would not have +signified a brass farden. Luckily there will be no vitnesses to snitch +upon us. There will be no one in the vault besides ourselves." + +"There will be a silent and a solemn witness," returned Balthazar, "and +one whom you expect not." + +"Eh! Vot's that you say? a spy?" + +But the patrico was gone. + +"Make way there--make way, pals, for the bride and bridegroom," cried +the knight of Malta, drawing Excalibur, and preparing to lead the way to +the vault. + +The train began to move. Eleanor leaned upon the arm of her mother. +Beside them stalked Barbara, with an aspect of triumph. Luke followed +with the priest. One by one the assemblage quitted the apartment. + +The sexton alone lingered. "The moment is at hand," said he, musingly, +"when all shall be consummated." + +A few steps brought him into the court. The crowd was there still. A +brief delay had taken place. The knight of Malta then entered the mouth +of the vault. He held his torch so as to reveal a broken flight of +steps, conducting, it would seem, to regions of perpetual night. So +thought Eleanor, as she shudderingly gazed into the abyss. She +hesitated; she trembled; she refused. But her mother's entreaties, and +Barbara's threatening looks, induced, in the end, reluctant compliance. +At length the place was empty. Peter was about to follow, when the sound +of a horse's hoofs broke upon his ear. He tarried for an instant, and +the mounted figure of the highwayman burst within the limits of the +court. + +"Ha, ha! old earthworm," cried Dick, "my Nestor of the churchyard, +alone! Where the devil are all the folks gone? Where's Sir Luke and his +new-found cousin, eh?" + +Peter hastily explained. + +"A wedding under ground? famous! the thing of all others I should like +to see. I'll hang Bess to this ivy tod, and grub my way with you +thither, old mole." + +"You must stay here, and keep guard," returned Peter. + +"May I be hanged if I do, when such fun is going on." + +"Hanged, in all probability, you will be," returned Peter; "but I should +not, were I you, desire to anticipate my destiny. Stay here you must, +and shall--that's peremptory. You will be the gainer by it. Sir Luke +will reward you nobly. I will answer for him. You can serve him most +effectually. Ranulph Rookwood and Major Mowbray are expected here." + +"The devil they are. But how, or why----" + +"I have not time to explain. In case of a surprise, discharge a pistol; +they must not enter the vault. Have you a whistle? for you must play a +double part, and we may need your assistance below." + +"Sir Luke may command me. Here's a pipe as shrill as the devil's own +cat-call." + +"If it will summon you to our assistance below, 'tis all I need. May we +rely on you?" + +"When did Dick Turpin desert his friends? Anywhere on this side the Styx +the sound of that whistle will reach me. I'll ride about the court, and +stand sentry." + +"Enough," replied the sexton, as he dived under ground. + +"Take care of your shins," shouted Dick. "That's a cursed ugly turn, but +he's used to the dark. A surprise, eh! I'll just give a look to my +snappers--flints all safe. Now I'm ready for them, come when they like." +And, having made the circuit of the place, he halted near the mouth of +the subterranean chapel, to be within hearing of Peter's whistle, and, +throwing his right leg lazily over his saddle, proceeded coolly to light +a short pipe--the luxury of the cigar being then unknown,--humming the +while snatches of a ballad, the theme of which was his own calling. + + THE SCAMPSMAN + + Quis verè rex? + SENECA. + + There is not a king, should you search the world round, + So blithe as the king of the road to be found; + His pistol's his sceptre, his saddle's his throne, + Whence he levies supplies, or enforces a loan. + _Derry down._ + + To this monarch the highway presents a wide field, + Where each passing subject a tribute must yield; + His palace--the tavern!--receives him at night, + Where sweet lips and sound liquor crown all with delight. + _Derry down._ + + The soldier and sailor, both robbers by trade, + Full soon on the shelf, if disabled, are laid; + The one gets a patch, and the other a peg, + But, while luck lasts, the highwayman shakes a loose leg! + _Derry down._ + + Most fowl rise at dawn, but the owl wakes at e'en, + And a jollier bird can there nowhere be seen; + Like the owl, our snug scampsman his snooze takes by day, + And, when night draws her curtain, scuds after his prey! + _Derry down._ + + As the highwayman's life is the fullest of zest, + So the highwayman's death is the briefest and best; + He dies not as other men die, by _degrees_! + But AT ONCE! without wincing, and quite at his ease! + _Derry down._ + +And thus, for the present, we leave him. O rare Dick Turpin! + + + + +_CHAPTER X_ + +_SAINT CYPRIAN'S CELL_ + + Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch' entrate. + + DANTE. + + +Cyprian de Mulverton, fifth prior of the monastery of Saint Francis, a +prelate of singular sanctity, being afflicted, in his latter days, with +a despondency so deep that neither penance nor fasting could remove it, +vowed never again to behold, with earthly eyes, the blessed light of +heaven, nor to dwell longer with his fellowmen; but, relinquishing his +spiritual dignity, "the world forgetting, by the world forgot," to +immure himself, while living, within the tomb. + +He kept his vow. Out of the living rock that sustained the saintly +structure, beneath the chapel of the monastery, was another chapel +wrought, and thither, after bidding an eternal farewell to the world, +and bestowing his benediction upon his flock, whom he committed to the +care of his successor, the holy man retired. + +Never, save at midnight, and then only during the performance of masses +for his soul's repose, did he ascend from his cell: and as the sole +light allowed within the dismal dungeon of his choice was that of a +sepulchral lamp, as none spoke with him when in his retreat, save in +muttered syllables, what effect must the lustre emanating from a +thousand tapers, the warm and pungent odors of the incense-breathing +shrine, contrasted with the earthy vapors of his prison-house, and the +solemn swell of the Sanctus, have had upon his excited senses? Surely +they must have seemed like a foretaste of the heaven he sought to gain! + +Ascetic to the severest point to which nature's endurance could be +stretched, Cyprian even denied himself repose. He sought not sleep, and +knew it only when it stole on him unawares. His couch was the flinty +rock; and long afterwards, when the zealous resorted to the sainted +prior's cell, and were shown those sharp and jagged stones, they +marvelled how one like unto themselves could rest, or even recline upon +their points without anguish, until it was explained to them that, +doubtless, He who tempereth the wind to the shorn lamb had made that +flinty couch soft to the holy sufferer as a bed of down. His limbs were +clothed in a garb of horsehair of the coarsest fabric; his drink was the +dank drops that oozed from the porous walls of his cell; and his +sustenance, such morsels as were bestowed upon him by the poor--the only +strangers permitted to approach him. No fire was suffered, where +perpetual winter reigned. None were admitted to his nightly vigils; +none witnessed any act of penance; nor were any groans heard to issue +from that dreary cave; but the knotted, blood-stained thong, discovered +near his couch, too plainly betrayed in what manner those long lone +nights were spent. Thus did a year roll on. Traces of his sufferings +were visible in his failing strength. He could scarcely crawl; but he +meekly declined assistance. He appeared not, as had been his wont, at +the midnight mass; the door of his cell was thrown open at that hour; +the light streamed down like a glory upon his reverend head; he heard +the distant reverberations of the deep _Miserere_; and breathed odors as +if wafted from Paradise. + +One morn it chanced that they who sought his cell found him with his +head upon his bosom, kneeling before the image of the virgin patroness +of his shrine. Fearing to disturb his devotions, they stood reverently +looking on; and thus silently did they tarry for an hour; but, as in +that space he had shown no signs of motion, fearing the worst, they +ventured to approach him. He was cold as the marble before which he +knelt. In the act of humblest intercession--it may be, in the hope of +grace--had Cyprian's spirit fled. + +"Blessed are they who die in the Lord," exclaimed his brethren, +regarding his remains with deepest awe. On being touched, the body fell +to the ground. It was little more than a skeleton. + +Under the cloisters of the holy pile were his bones interred, with a +degree of pomp and ostentation that little accorded with the lowliness +and self-abasement of this man of many sorrows. + +This chapel, at the time of which we treat, was pretty much in the same +condition as it existed in the days of its holy inmate. Hewn out of the +entrails of the rock, the roof, the vaults, the floor, were of solid +granite. Three huge cylindrical pillars, carved out of the native rock, +rough as the stems of gnarled oak-trees, lent support to the ceiling. +Support, however, was unneeded; an earthquake would scarce have shaken +down those solid rafters. Only in one corner, where the water welled +through a crevice of the rock, in drops that fell like tears, was decay +manifest. Here the stone, worn by the constant dripping, had, in some +places, given way. In shape, the vault was circular. The integral +between each massive pillar formed a pointed arch. Again, from each +pillar sprang other arches, which, crossed by diagonal, ogive branches, +weaving one into the other, and radiating from the centre, formed those +beautifully intricate combinations upon which the eye of the +architectural enthusiast loves to linger. Within the ring formed by +these triple columns, in which again the pillars had their own web of +arches, was placed an altar of stone, and beside it a crucifix of the +same rude material. Here also stood the sainted image of her who had +filled the prior with holy aspirations, now a shapeless stone. The dim +lamp, that, like a star struggling with the thick gloom of a wintry +cell, had shed its slender radiance over the brow of the Virgin Thecla, +was gone. But around the keystone of the central arches, whence a chain +had once depended, might be traced in ancient characters, half effaced +by time, the inscription: + + STA. THECLA ORA PRO NOBIS. + +One outlet only was there from the chapel--that which led by winding +steps to the monastery; one only recess--the prior's cell. The former +faced the altar; the latter yawned like the mouth of a tomb at its back. +Altogether it was a dreary place. Dumb were its walls as when they +refused to return the murmured orisons of the anchorite. One uniform sad +coloring prevailed throughout. The gray granite was grown hoar with age, +and had a ghostly look; the columns were ponderous, and projected heavy +shadows. Sorrow and superstition had their tale, and a moral gloom +deepened the darkness of the spot. Despair, which had inspired its +construction, seemed to brood therein. Hope shunned its inexorable +recesses. + +Alone, within this dismal sanctuary, with hands outstretched towards the +desecrated image of its tutelar saint, knelt Sybil. All was darkness. +Neither the heavy vapors that surrounded her, nor the shrine before +which she bent, were visible; but, familiar with the dreary spot, she +knew that she had placed herself aright. Her touch had satisfied her +that she bowed before the altar of stone; that her benighted vision was +turned towards the broken image of the saint, though now involved in +gloom the most profound; and with clasped hands and streaming eyes, in +low and mournful tones, she addressed herself in the following hymn to +the tutelar saint of the spot: + + HYMN TO SAINT THECLA + + In my trouble, in my anguish, + In the depths of my despair, + As in grief and pain I languish, + Unto thee I raise my prayer. + Sainted virgin! martyr'd maiden! + Let thy countenance incline + Upon one with woes o'erladen, + Kneeling lowly at thy shrine; + That in agony, in terror, + In her blind perplexity, + Wandering weak in doubt and error, + Calleth feebly upon thee. + Sinful thoughts, sweet saint, oppress me, + Thoughts that will not be dismissed; + Temptations dark possess me, + Which my strength may not resist. + I am full of pain, and weary + Of my life; I fain would die: + Unto me the world is dreary; + To the grave for rest I fly. + For rest!--oh! could I borrow + Thy bright wings, celestial dove! + They should waft me from my sorrow, + Where peace dwells in bowers above. + Upon one with woes o'erladen, + Kneeling lowly at thy shrine; + Sainted virgin! martyr'd maiden! + Let thy countenance incline! + _Mei miserere Virgo, + Requiem æternam dona!_ + + By thy loveliness, thy purity, + Unpolluted, undefiled, + That in serene security + Upon earth's temptations smiled;-- + By the fetters that constrain'd thee, + By thy flame-attested faith, + By the fervor that sustain'd thee, + By thine angel-ushered death;-- + By thy soul's divine elation, + 'Mid thine agonies assuring + Of thy sanctified translation + To beatitude enduring;-- + By the mystic interfusion + Of thy spirit with the rays, + That in ever bright profusion + Round the Throne Eternal blaze;-- + By thy portion now partaken, + With the pain-perfected just; + Look on one of hope forsaken, + From the gates, of mercy thrust. + Upon one with woes o'erladen, + Kneeling lowly at thy shrine, + Sainted virgin! martyr'd maiden! + Let thy countenance incline! + _Ora pro me mortis horâ! + Sancta Virgo, oro te! + Kyrie Eleison!_ + +The sweet, sad voice of the singer died faintly away. The sharpness of +her sorrow was assuaged. Seldom, indeed, is it that fervent +supplication fails to call down solace to the afflicted. Sybil became +more composed. She still, however, trembled at the thoughts of what +remained to be done. + +"They will be here ere my prayer is finished," murmured she--"ere the +end is accomplished for which I came hither alone. Let me, oh! let me +make my peace with my Creator, ere I surrender my being to His hands, +and then let them deal with me as they will." And she bowed her head in +lowly prayer. + +Again raising her hands, and casting her eyes towards the black ceiling, +she implored, in song, the intercession of the saintly man who had +bequeathed his name to the cell. + + HYMN TO SAINT CYPRIAN + + Hear! oh! hear me, sufferer holy, + Who didst make thine habitation + 'Mid these rocks, devoting wholly + Life to one long expiation + Of thy guiltiness, and solely + By severe mortification + Didst deliver thee. Oh! hear me! + In my dying moments cheer me. + By thy penance, self-denial, + Aid me in the hour of trial. + + May, through thee, my prayers prevailing + On the Majesty of Heaven, + O'er the hosts of hell, assailing + My soul, in this dark hour be driven! + So my spirit, when exhaling, + May of sinfulness be shriven, + And His gift unto the Giver + May be rendered pure as ever! + By thy own dark, dread possession, + Aid me with thine intercession! + +Scarcely had she concluded this hymn, when the torch of the knight of +Malta in part dissipated the gloom that hung around the chapel. + + + + +_CHAPTER XI_ + +_THE BRIDAL_ + + _Cari._ I will not die; I must not. I am contracted + To a young gentleman. + + _Executioner._ Here's your wedding-ring. + + _Duchess of Malfy._ + + +Slowly did the train descend; solemnly and in silence, as if the rites +at which they were about to assist had been those of funereal, and not +of nuptial, solemnization. Indeed, to look upon those wild and fierce +faces by the ruddily-flashing torchlight, which lent to each a stern and +savage expression; to see those scowling visages surrounding a bride +from whose pallid cheeks every vestige of color, and almost of +animation, had fled; and a bridegroom, with a countenance yet more +haggard, and demeanor yet more distracted--the beholder must have +imagined that the spectacle was some horrible ceremonial, practised by +demons rather than human beings. The arched vault, the pillars, the +torchlight, the deep shadows, and the wild figures, formed a picture +worthy of Rembrandt or Salvator. + +"Is Sybil within the chapel?" asked Barbara. + +"I am here," returned a voice from the altar. + +"Why do we tarry?" said the gipsy queen. "We are all assembled. To the +altar." + +"To the altar!" shrieked Eleanor. "Oh! no--no----" + +"Remember my threat, and obey," muttered Barbara. "You are in my power +now." + +A convulsive sob was all the answer Eleanor could make. + +"Our number is not complete," said the priest, who had looked in vain +for the sexton. "Peter Bradley is not with us." + +"Ha!" exclaimed Barbara. "Let him be sought for instantly." + +"Their search need not extend beyond this spot," said Peter, stepping +forward. + +The knight of Malta advanced towards the altar. The torchlight reddened +upon the huge stone pillars. It fell upon the shrine, and upon the +ghastly countenance of Sybil, who stood beside it. Suddenly, as the +light approached her, an object, hitherto hidden from view, was +revealed. Sybil uttered a prolonged and fearful shriek; the knight +recoiled likewise in horror; and a simultaneous cry of astonishment +burst from the lips of the foremost of the group. All crowded forwards, +and universal consternation prevailed amongst the assemblage. Each one +gazed at his neighbor, anxious to learn the occasion of this tumult, and +vague fears were communicated to those behind, from the terrified +glances, which were the only answers returned by their comrades in +front. + +"Who has dared to bring that body here?" demanded Barbara, in a tone in +which anger struggled with apprehension, pointing at the same time to +the ghastly corpse of a female, with streaming hair, at the altar's +feet. "Who has dared to do this, I say? Quick! remove it. What do you +stare at? Cravens! is this the first time you have looked upon a corpse, +that you should shrink aghast--that you tremble before it? It is a +clod--ay, less than a clod. Away with it! away, I say." + +"Touch it not," cried Luke, lifting a cloud of black hair from off the +features; "it is my mother's body." + +"My daughter!" exclaimed the sexton. + +"What!" vociferated Barbara, "is that your daughter--is that the first +Lady Rookwood? Are the dead arisen to do honor to these nuptials? Speak! +you can, perchance, explain how she came hither." + +"I know not," returned Peter, glancing fiercely at Barbara; "I may, +anon, demand that question of you. How came this body here?" + +"Ask of Richard Checkley," said Barbara, turning to the priest. "He can, +perchance, inform you. Priest," added she, in a low voice, "this is your +handiwork." + +"Checkley!" screamed Peter. "Is that Richard Checkley? is that----" + +"Peace!" thundered Barbara; "will none remove the body? Once more I ask +you, do you fear the dead?" + +A murmur arose. Balthazar alone ventured to approach the corpse. + +Luke started to his feet as he advanced, his eyes glaring with tiger +fury. + +"Back, old man," cried he, "and dare not, any of you, to lay a +sacrilegious finger on her corse, or I will stretch him that advances as +lowly as lies my mother's head. When or how it came hither matters not. +Here, at the altar, has it been placed, and none shall move it hence. +The dead shall witness my nuptials. Fate has ordained it--_my_ fate! +o'er which the dead preside. Her ring shall link me to my bride. I knew +not, when I snatched it from her death-cold finger, to what end I +preserved it. I learn it now. It is here." And he held forth a ring. + +"'Tis a fatal boon, that twice-used ring," cried Sybil; "such a ring my +mother, on her death-bed, said should be mine. Such a ring she said +should wed me----" + +"Unto whom?" fiercely demanded Luke. + +"UNTO DEATH!" she solemnly rejoined. + +Luke's countenance fell. He turned aside, deeply abashed, unable further +to brook her gaze; while in accents of such wildly touching pathos as +sank into the hearts of each who heard her--hearts, few of them framed +of penetrable stuff--the despairing maiden burst into the following +strain: + + THE TWICE-USED RING + + "Beware thy bridal day!" + On her death-bed sighed my mother; + "Beware, beware, I say, + Death shall wed thee, and no other. + Cold the hand shall grasp thee, + Cold the arms shall clasp thee, + Colder lips thy kiss shall smother! + Beware thy bridal kiss! + + "Thy wedding ring shall be + From a clay-cold finger taken; + From one that, like to thee, + Was by her love forsaken. + For a twice-used ring + Is a fatal thing; + Her griefs who wore it are partaken--, + Beware that fatal ring! + + "The altar and the grave + Many steps are not asunder; + Bright banners o'er thee wave, + Shrouded horror lieth under. + Blithe may sound the bell, + Yet 'twill toll thy knell; + Scathed thy chaplet by the thunder-- + Beware that blighted wreath!" + + Beware my bridal day! + Dying lips my doom have spoken; + Deep tones call me away; + From the grave is sent a token. + Cold, cold fingers bring + That ill-omen'd ring; + Soon will a _second_ heart be broken; + _This_ is my bridal day. + +There was a deep, profound silence as the last melancholy cadence died +away, and many a rugged heart was melted, even to tears. Eleanor, +meanwhile, remained in a state of passive stupefaction, vacantly gazing +at Sybil, upon whom alone her eyes were fixed, and appearing +indistinctly to apprehend the meaning of her song. + +"This is my bridal day," murmured she, in a low tone, when Sybil had +finished. "Said not that sweet voice so? I know 'tis my bridal day. What +a church you have chosen, mother! A tomb--a sepulchre--but 'tis meet for +such nuptials as mine--and what wedding guests! Was that pale woman in +her shroud-like dress invited here by you? Tell me that, mother." + +"My God, her senses are gone!" cried Mrs. Mowbray. "Why did I venture +into this horrible place?" + +"Ask not _why_ now, madam," rejoined the priest. "The hour for +consideration is past. We must act. Let the marriage proceed, at all +hazards; we will then take means to extricate ourselves from this +accursed place." + +"Remove that horrible object," said Mrs. Mowbray; "it fascinates the +vision of my child." + +"Lend me your hand, Richard Checkley," said Peter, sternly regarding the +priest. + +"No, no," replied the priest, shuddering; "I will not, cannot touch it. +Do you alone remove it." + +Peter approached Luke. The latter now offered no further opposition, and +the body was taken away. The eyes of Eleanor followed it into the dark +recesses of the vault; and when she could no longer distinguish the +white flutter of the cereclothes, her laboring bosom seemed torn asunder +with the profound sigh that burst from it, and her head declined upon +her shoulder. + +"Let me see that ring," said the priest, addressing Luke, who still held +the wedding-ring between his fingers. + +"I am not naturally superstitious," said Mrs. Mowbray; "whether my mind +be affected with the horrors of this place, I know not; but I have a +dread of that ring. She shall not use it." + +"Where no other can be found," said the priest, with a significant and +peculiar look at Mrs. Mowbray, "I see no reason why this should be +rejected. I should not have suspected you, madam, of such weakness. +Grant there were evil spell, or charm, attached to it, which, trust me, +there is _not_--as how should there be, to a harmless piece of gold?--my +benediction, and aspersion with holy lymph, will have sufficient power +to exorcise and expel it. To remove your fears it shall be done at +once." + +A cup containing water was brought, together with a plate of salt--which +condiment the devil is said to abhor, and which is held to be a symbol +of immortality and of eternity; in that, being itself incorruptible, it +preserves all else from corruption,--and, with the customary Romish +formula of prayer and exorcism, the priest thrice mingled the crystal +particles with the pure fluid; after which, taking the ring in his hand +with much solemnity, he sprinkled it with a few drops of the water which +he had blessed; made the sign of the cross upon the golden circlet; +uttered another and more potent exorcism to eradicate and expel every +device of Satan, and delivered it back to Luke. + +"She may wear it now in safety," said the sexton, with strong contempt. +"Were the snake himself coiled round that consecrated bauble, the +prayers of the devout Father Checkley would unclasp his lithest folds. +But wherefore do we tarry now? Naught lies between us and the altar. The +path is clear. The bridegroom grows impatient." + +"And the bride?" asked Barbara. + +"Is ready," replied the priest. "Madam, delay not longer. Daughter, your +hand." + +Eleanor gave her hand. It was clammy and cold. Supported by her mother, +she moved slowly towards the altar, which was but a few steps from where +they stood. She offered no resistance, but did not raise her head. Luke +was by her side. Then for the first time did the enormity of the cruel, +dishonorable act he was about to commit, strike him with its full +force. He saw it in its darkest colors. It was one of those terrible +moments when the headlong wheel of passion stands suddenly still. + +"There is yet time," groaned he. "Oh! let me not damn myself +perpetually! Let me save her; save Sybil; save myself." + +They were at the altar--that wild wedding train. High over head the +torch was raised. The red light flashed on bridegroom and on bride, +giving to the pale features of each an almost livid look; it fell upon +the gaunt aspect of the sexton, and lit up the smile of triumphant +malice that played upon his face; it fell upon the fantastical +habiliments of Barbara, and upon the haughty but perturbed physiognomy +of Mrs. Mowbray; it fell upon the salient points of the Gothic arches; +upon one molded pillar; upon the marble image of the virgin Thecla; and +on the scarcely less marble countenance of Sybil who stood behind the +altar, silent, statue-like, immovable. The effect of light and shade on +other parts of the scene, upon the wild drapery, and harsh lineaments of +many of the group, was also eminently striking. + +Just as the priest was about to commence the marriage service, a yelling +chorus, which the gipsies were accustomed to sing at the celebration of +the nuptials of one of their own tribe, burst forth. Nothing could be +more horribly discordant than their song. + + WEDDING CHORUS OF GIPSIES + + Scrape the catgut! pass the liquor! + Let your quick feet move the quicker. + Ta-ra-la! + + Dance and sing in jolly chorus, + Bride and bridegroom are before us, + And the patrico stands o'er us. + Ta-ra-la! + + To unite their hands he's ready; + For a moment, pals, be steady; + Cease your quaffing, + Dancing, laughing; + Leave off riot, + And be quiet, + While 'tis doing. + 'Tis begun, + All is over! + Two are ONE! + The patrico has link'd 'em; + Daddy Hymen's torch has blink'd 'em. + Amen! + To 't again! + Now for quaffing, + Now for laughing, + Stocking-throwing, + Liquor flowing; + For our bridals are no bridles, and our altars never alter; + From the flagon never flinch we, in the jig we never falter. + No! that's not _our_ way, for _we_ + Are staunch lads of Romany. + For our wedding, then, hurrah! + Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! + +This uncouth chorus ended, the marriage proceeded. Sybil had +disappeared. Had she fled? No! she was by the bride. Eleanor +mechanically took her place. A faint voice syllabled the responses. You +could scarcely have seen Miss Mowbray's lips move. But the answers were +given, and the priest was satisfied. + +He took the ring, and sprinkled it once again with the holy water, in +the form of the cross. He pronounced the prayer: "_Benedic, Domine, +annulum hunc, quem nos in tuo nomine benedicimus, ut quæ eum gestaverit, +fidelitatem integram suo sponso tenens, in pace et voluntate tua +permaneat atque in mutua charitate semper vivat._" + +He was about to return the ring to Luke, when the torch, held by the +knight of Malta, was dashed to the ground by some unseen hand, and +instantly extinguished. The wild pageant vanished as suddenly as the +figures cast by a magic-lantern upon a wall disappear when the glass is +removed. A wild hubbub succeeded. Hoarsely above the clamor arose the +voice of Barbara. + +"To the door, quickly!--to the door! Let no one pass, I will find out +the author of this mishap anon. Away!" + +She was obeyed. Several of the crew stationed themselves at the door. + +"Proceed now with the ceremony," continued Barbara. "By darkness, or by +light, the match shall be completed." + +The ring was then placed upon the finger of the bride; and as Luke +touched it, he shuddered. It was cold as that of the corpse which he had +clasped but now. The prayer was said, the blessing given, the marriage +was complete. + +Suddenly there issued from the darkness deep dirge-like tones, and a +voice solemnly chanted a strain, which all knew to be the death-song of +their race, hymned by wailing women over an expiring sister. The music +seemed to float in the air. + + THE SOUL-BELL + + Fast the sand of life is falling, + Fast her latest sigh exhaling, + Fast, fast, is she dying. + + With death's chills her limbs are shivering, + With death's gasp the lips are quivering, + Fast her soul away is flying. + + O'er the mountain-top it fleeteth, + And the skyey wonders greeteth, + Singing loud as stars it meeteth + On its way. + + Hark! the sullen Soul-bell tolling, + Hollowly in echoes rolling, + Seems to say-- + + "She will ope her eyes--oh, never! + Quenched their dark light--gone for ever! + She is dead." + +The marriage group yet lingered near the altar, awaiting, it would seem, +permission from the gipsy queen to quit the cell. Luke stirred not. +Clasped in his own, the cold hand of his bride detained him; and when he +would have moved, her tightened grasp prevented his departure. + +Mrs. Mowbray's patience was exhausted by the delay. She was not +altogether free from apprehension. "Why do we linger here?" she +whispered to the priest. "Do you, father, lead the way." + +"The crowd is dense," replied Checkley. "They resist my effort." + +"Are we prisoners here?" asked Mrs. Mowbray, in alarm. + +"Let me make the attempt," cried Luke, with fiery impatience. "I will +force a passage out." + +"Quit not your bride," whispered Peter, "as you value her safety. Heed +not aught else. She alone is in danger. Suffer her not to be withdrawn +from your hand, if you would not lose her. Remain here. I will bring the +matter to a speedy issue." + +"Enough," replied Luke; "I stir not hence." And he drew his bride closer +towards him. He stooped to imprint a kiss upon her lips. A cold shudder +ran through her frame as he touched them, but she resisted not his +embrace. + +Peter's attempt to effect an egress was as unsuccessful as that of the +priest. Presenting Excalibur at his bosom, the knight of Malta +challenged him to stand. + +"You cannot pass," exclaimed the knight; "our orders are peremptory." + +"What am I to understand by this?" said Peter, angrily. "Why are we +detained?" + +"You will learn all anon," returned Barbara. "In the meantime you are my +prisoners--or, if you like not the phrase, my wedding guests." + +"The wedding is complete," returned the sexton; "the bride and +bridegroom are impatient to depart, and we, the guests--albeit some of +us may be no foes to darkness--desire not to hold our nuptial revels +here." + +"Sybil's wedding has not taken place," said Barbara; "you must tarry for +that." + +"Ha! now it comes," thought Peter. "And who, may I ask," said he, aloud, +"amongst this goodly company, is to be her bridegroom?" + +"The best amongst them," returned Barbara--"Sir Luke Rookwood." + +"He has a bride already," replied Peter. + +"She may be _removed_," said Barbara, with bitter and peculiar emphasis. +"Dost understand my meaning now?" + +"I will not understand it," said Peter. "You cannot mean to destroy her +who now stands at the altar?" + +"She who now stands at the altar must make way for a successor. She who +grasps the bridegroom's hand shall die. I swear it by the oath of my +tribe." + +"And think you, you will be allowed to execute your murderous intention +with impunity?" shrieked Mrs. Mowbray, in an agony of terror. "Think you +that I will stand by and see my child slaughtered before my face; that +my friends will suffer it? Think you that even your own tribe will dare +to execute your horrible purpose? They will not. They will side with us. +Even now they murmur. What can you hope to gain by an act so wild and +dreadful? What object can you have?" + +"The same as your own," reiterated Barbara--"the advancement of my +child. Sybil is as dear to me as Eleanor is to you. She is my child's +child, the daughter of my best beloved daughter. I have sworn to marry +her to Sir Luke Rookwood. The means are in my power. I will keep my vow; +I will wed her to him. You did not hesitate to tear your daughter from +the man she loved, to give her to the man she hated; and for what? For +gold--for power--for rank. I have the same motive. I love my child, and +she loves Sir Luke--has loved him long and truly; therefore shall she +have him. What to me is _your_ child, or _your_ feelings, except they +are subservient to my wishes? She stands in my way. I remove her." + +"Who placed her in your path?" asked the sexton. "Did you not lend a +helping hand to create that obstacle yourself?" + +"I did," replied Barbara. "Would you know wherefore? I will tell you. I +had a double motive for it. There is a curse upon the house of Rookwood, +that kills the first fair bride each generation leads to the altar. Have +you never heard of it?" + +"I have! And did that idle legend sway you?" + +"And do you call it idle? _You!_ Well--I had another motive--a +prophecy." + +"By yourself uttered," replied Peter. + +"Even so," replied Barbara. "The prophecy is fulfilled. The stray rook +is found. The rook hath with rook mated. Luke hath wedded Eleanor. He +will hold possession of his lands. The prophecy is fulfilled." + +"But _how_?" asked Peter; "will your art tell you how and why he shall +now hold possession? Can you tell me that?" + +"My art goes not so far. I have predicted the event. It has come to +pass. I am satisfied. He has wedded her. Be it mine to free him from +that yoke." And Barbara laughed exultingly. + +The sexton approached the old crone, and laid his hand with violence +upon her shoulder. + +"Hear _me_," cried he, "and I will tell you that which your juggling art +refuses to reveal. Eleanor Mowbray is heir to the lands of Rookwood! The +estates are _hers_! They were bequeathed to her by her grandsire, Sir +Reginald." + +"She was unborn when he died," cried Mrs. Mowbray. + +"True," replied Peter; "but the lands were left to your issue _female_, +should such issue be born." + +"And did Sir Piers, my brother, know of this? did he see this will," +asked Mrs. Mowbray, with trembling impatience. + +"He did; and withheld the knowledge of it from you and yours." + +"Ah! why knew I not this before? Why did you not tell me ere that was +done which cannot be undone? I have sacrificed my child." + +"Because it did not chime with my purposes to tell you," replied Peter, +coldly. + +"It is false--it is false," cried Mrs. Mowbray, her anger and vexation +getting the better of her fears. "I will not believe it. Who are you, +that pretend to know the secrets of our house?" + +"One of that house," replied the sexton. + +"Your name?" + +"Would you know my name?" answered Peter, sternly. "The time is come +when I will no longer conceal it. I am Alan Rookwood." + +"My father's brother!" exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Ay, Alan Rookwood. The sworn enemy of your father--of you--of all of +ye: your fate--your destiny--your curse. I am that Alan Rookwood whose +name you breathed in the vault. I am he, the avenger--the avenged. I saw +your father die. I heard his groans--_his groans!_--ha, ha! I saw his +sons die: one fell in battle--I was with him there. The other expired in +his bed. I was with Sir Piers when he breathed his last, and listened to +his death agonies. 'Twas I who counselled him to keep the lands from you +and from your child, and he withheld them. One only amongst the race, +whose name I have cast off, have I loved; and him--because," added he, +with something like emotion--"because he was my daughter's child--Luke +Rookwood. And even he shall minister to my vengeance. He will be your +curse--your daughter's curse--for he loves her not. Yet he is her +husband, and hath her land;--ha, ha!" And he laughed till he became +convulsed with the paroxysm of fiendish exultation. + +"Mine ears are stunned," cried Mrs. Mowbray. + +"The bride is mine; relinquish her to me," said Barbara. "Advance and +seize her, my children." + +Alan Rookwood--for so we shall henceforth denominate the +sexton--suddenly grew calm: he raised the whistle to his lips, and blew +a call so loud and shrill, that those who were advancing hung back +irresolute. + +There was a rush at the door of the vault. The sentinels were struck +down; and with pistols in each hand, and followed by two assistants, +Dick Turpin sprang into the thick of the crew. + +"Here we are," cried he, "ready for action. Where is Sir Luke Rookwood? +where my churchyard pal, Peter?" + +"Here," cried the sexton and Luke simultaneously. + +"Then stand aside," cried Dick, pushing in the direction of the sounds, +and bearing down all opposition. "Have a care there--these triggers are +ticklish. Friend or foe, he who touches me shall have a bullet in his +gizzard. Here I am, pal Peter; and here are my two chums, Rust and +Wilder. Cut the whid." + +"Have we license to pass scathless now?" asked the sexton; "or shall we +make good our way?" + +"You shall not pass," cried Barbara, furiously. "Think you to rob me of +my prey? What, cowards! do you hesitate? Ha!" + +"Kindle the torches," cried several voices. "We fight not in the dark." + +A pistol was flashed. The torch again blazed. Its light fell upon a +tumultuous group. + +"Seize the bride," cried Barbara. + +"Hold!" exclaimed a voice from the altar. The voice was that of Sybil. + +Her hand was clasped in that of Luke. Eleanor had fainted in the arms of +the gipsy girl Handassah. + +"Are you my bride?" ejaculated Luke, in dismay. + +"Behold the ring upon my finger! Your own hand placed it there." + +"Betrayed!" screamed Alan, in a voice of anguish. "My schemes +annihilated--myself undone--my enemies triumphant--lost! lost! All is +destroyed--all!" + +"Joy! joy!" exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray: "my child is saved." + +"And _mine_ destroyed," groaned Barbara. "I have sworn by the cross to +slay the bride--and Sybil is that bride." + + + + +_CHAPTER XII_ + +_ALAN ROOKWOOD_ + + The wolf shall find her grave, and scrape it up; + Not to devour the corse, but to discover + The horrid murther. + + WEBSTER. + + +"Bravo! capital!" cried Turpin, laughing loud and long as an Olympian +deity; "has this simple wench outwitted you all; turned the tables upon +the whole gang of plotters, eh? Excellent! ha, ha, ha! The next time you +wed, Sir Luke, let me advise you not to choose a wife in the dark. A man +should have all his senses about him on these occasions. Make love when +the liquor's in; marry when it's out, and, above all, with your eyes +open. This beats cock-fighting--ha, ha, ha!--you must excuse me; but, +upon my soul, I can't help it." And his laughter seemed +inextinguishable. + +"Take your men without," whispered Alan Rookwood; "keep watch as before, +and let the discharge of a pistol bespeak the approach of danger as +agreed upon; much yet remains to be done here." + +"How so?" asked Dick; "it seems to me the job's entirely settled--if not +to _your_ satisfaction. I'm always ready to oblige my friend, Sir Luke; +but curse me if I'd lend my help to any underhand work. Steer clear of +foul play, or Dick Turpin holds no hand with you. As to that poor wench, +if you mean her any harm, curse me if I will----" + +"No harm is intended her," replied Alan. "I applaud your magnanimity," +added he, sarcastically; "such sentiments are, it must be owned, in +excellent keeping with your conduct." + +"In keeping or not," replied Turpin, gravely, "cold-blooded murder is +altogether out of my line, and I wash my hands of it. A shot or two in +self defence is another matter; and when----" + +"A truce to this," interrupted Alan; "the girl is safe. Will you mount +guard again?" + +"If that be the case, certainly," replied Dick. "I shall be glad to get +back to Bess. I couldn't bring her with me into this black hole. A +couple of shots will tell you 'tis Ranulph Rookwood. But mind, no harm +to the gipsy girl--to Lady Rookwood, I should say. She's a jewel, take +my word for it, which Sir Luke must be mad to throw away." And calling +his companions, he departed. + +Alan Rookwood bent his steps towards the gipsy queen. Dark thoughts +gathered quickly o'er his brow. He smiled as he drew nigh to Barbara--a +smile it was + + That wrinkled up his skin even to the hair. + +Barbara looked at him at first with distrust; but as he developed his +secret purposes, that smile became reflected upon her own features. +Their conference took place apart. We willingly leave them to return to +the altar. + +Mrs. Mowbray and the priest were still there. Both were occupied in +ineffectual endeavors to restore Eleanor to consciousness. She recovered +from her swoon; but it was evident her senses still wandered; and vainly +did Mrs. Mowbray lavish her tenderest caresses upon her child. Eleanor +returned them not. + +Luke, meanwhile, had given vent to the wildest fury. He shook away +Sybil's grasp; he dashed her from him; he regarded her with withering +glances; he loaded her with reproaches. She bore his violence with +meekest submission; she looked imploringly--but she replied not to his +taunts. Again she clung to the hem of his garment when cast aside. Luke +appeared unmoved; what passed within we pause not to examine. He grew +calmer; his calmness was more terrible to Sybil than his previous wrath +had been. + +"You are my wife," said he; "what then? By fraud, by stratagem, you have +obtained that title, and, perforce, must keep it. But the title _only_ +shall you retain. No rights of wife shall ever be yours. It will be in +your power to call yourself Lady Rookwood--you will be so in name--in +nothing else." + +"I shall not bear it long," murmured Sybil. + +Luke laughed scornfully, "So you said before," replied he; "and yet I +see not why you are likely to abandon it. The event will show. Thus far +you have deceived me, and I place no further faith in your assertions. +My hand was yours; you refused it. When I would give it to another, you +grasp it clandestinely. Am I to believe you now? The wind will +change--the vane veer with it." + +"It will not veer from you," she meekly answered. + +"Why did you step between me and my bride?" + +"To save her life; to lay down mine for hers." + +"An idle subterfuge. You know well that you run no risk of being called +upon to do so. Your life is in no danger. The sacrifice was unnecessary. +I could have dispensed with _your_ assistance; my own arm would have +sufficed to protect Eleanor." + +"Your single arm would not have prevailed against numbers: they would +have killed you likewise." + +"Tush!" said Luke, fiercely. "Not only have you snatched from me my +bride, you have robbed me of my fair estates, of all, save of my barren +title, and that, even _that_, you have tarnished." + +"True, true," sighed Sybil. "I knew not that the lands were hers, else +had I never done it." + +"False, false," cried Luke; "false as the rest. _They_ will be +Ranulph's. _She_ will be Ranulph's. I shall still be an outcast, while +Ranulph will riot in my halls--will press her to his bosom. Cling not to +me. Hence! or I will spurn you from me. I am undone, undone by you, +accursed one." + +"Oh, curse me not! your words cut deep enough." + +"Would they could kill you," cried Luke, with savage bitterness. "You +have placed a bar between me and my prospects, which nothing can now +remove--nothing but--ha!" and his countenance assumed a deadly hue and +fearful expression. "By Heaven, you almost rouse the fell spirit which +it is said dwells within the breast of my devoted race. I feel as if I +could stab thee." + +"No, no!" shrieked Sybil; "for mercy's sake, for your own sake, do not +stab me. It is not too late. I will repair my wrong!" + +"Ever deceiving! you would again delude me. You cannot repair it. One +way alone remains, and that----" + +"I will pursue," responded Sybil, sadly, but firmly. + +"Never!" cried Luke; "you shall not. Ha!" exclaimed he, as he found his +arms suddenly pinioned behind him. "What new treachery is this? By whose +orders am I thus fettered?" + +"By mine," said Alan Rookwood, stepping forward. + +"By yours?" echoed Luke. "And wherefore? Release me." + +"Be patient," replied Alan. "You will hear all anon. In the meantime you +must be content to remain my prisoner. Quit not your hold," added he, +addressing the gipsies, who kept charge of Luke. + +"Their lives shall answer for their obedience," said Barbara. + +Upon a further signal from Alan, Eleanor was torn from her mother's +arms, and a bandage passed so suddenly over Mrs. Mowbray's face, that, +before she could raise a cry of alarm, all possibility of utterance was +effectually prevented. The priest alone was left at liberty. + +Barbara snatched the hand of Eleanor. She dragged her to Sybil. + +"You are Lady Rookwood," whispered she; "but she has your domains. I +give her to you." + +"She is the _only bar_ between thy husband and his rights," whispered +Alan Rookwood, in a tone of horrible irony; "_it is not too late to +repair your wrong_." + +"Away, tempter!" cried Sybil, horror-stricken. "I know you well. Yet," +continued she, in an altered tone, "I will risk all for him. I have done +him wrong. One mode of atonement remains; and, horrible though it be, I +will embrace it. Let me not pause. Give her to me." And she seized upon +the unresisting hand of Eleanor. + +"Do you need my aid?" asked Barbara. + +"No," replied Sybil; "let none approach us. A clapping of hands will let +you know when all is over." And she dragged her passive victim deeper +into the vault. + +"Sybil, Sybil!" cried Luke, struggling with frantic violence to liberate +himself; "hurt her not. I was rash. I was mad. I am calmer now. She +hears me not--she will not turn. God of heaven! she will murder her. It +will be done while I speak. I am the cause of all. Release me, villains! +Would that I had died ere I had seen this day." + +At a signal from the sexton, Luke also was blindfolded. He ceased to +struggle. But his laboring breast told of the strife within. + +"Miscreants!" exclaimed the priest, who had hitherto witnessed the +proceedings in horror. "Why do not these rocks fall in, and crush you +and your iniquities? Save her! oh, save her! Have you no pity for the +innocent?" + +"Such pity have we," replied Alan Rookwood, "as you showed my daughter. +She was as innocent as Eleanor Mowbray, and yet you did not pity _her_." + +"Heaven is my witness," exclaimed the priest, "that I never injured +her." + +"Take not Heaven's name in vain," cried Alan. "Who stood by while it was +doing? Whose firmer hand lent aid to the murderer's trembling efforts? +Whose pressure stifled her thrilling screams, and choked her cries for +mercy? Yours--yours; and now you prate to me of pity--you, the slayer of +the sleeping and the innocent!" + +"'Tis false!" exclaimed the priest, in extremity of terror. + +"False!" echoed Alan. "I had Sir Piers's own confession. He told me all. +You had designs upon Sir Piers, which his wife opposed; you hated her; +you were in the confidence of both--how did you keep that confidence? He +told me _how_, by awakening a spirit of jealousy and pride, that +o'ermastered all his better feelings. False! He told me of your hellish +machinations; your Jesuitical plots; your schemes. He was too weak, too +feeble an instrument to serve you. You left him, but not before _she_ +had left him. False! ha, I have that shall instantly convict you. The +corpse is here, within this cell. Who brought it hither?" + +The priest was silent: he seemed confounded by Alan's violence. + +"I will answer that question," said Barbara. "It was brought hither by +that false priest. His agent, Balthazar, has betrayed him. It was +brought hither to prevent the discovery of Sir Luke Rookwood's +legitimacy. He meant to make his own terms about it. It has come hither +to proclaim his guilt--to be a fearful witness against him." Then, +turning to Checkley, she added, "You have called Heaven to witness your +innocence: you shall attest it by oath upon that body; and should aught +indicate your guilt, I will hang you as I would a dog, and clear off one +long score with justice. Do you shrink from this?" + +"No," replied the priest, in a voice hollow and broken. "Bring me to the +body." + +"Seize each an arm," said Barbara, addressing Zoroaster and the knight +of Malta, "and lead him to the corse." + +"I will administer the oath," said Alan Rookwood, sternly. + +"No, not you," stammered the priest. + +"And wherefore not?" asked Alan. "If you are innocent, you need fear +nothing from her." + +"I fear nothing from the _dead_," replied Checkley; "lead on." + +We will now return to Sybil. She was alone with her victim. They were +near the mouth of the cell which had been Prior Cyprian's flinty +dormitory, and were almost involved in darkness. A broken stream of +light glanced through the pillars. Eleanor had not spoken. She suffered +herself to be dragged thither without resistance, scarcely conscious, it +would seem, of her danger. Sybil gazed upon her for some minutes with +sorrow and surprise. "She comprehends not her perilous situation," +murmured Sybil. "She knows not that she stands upon the brink of the +grave. Oh! would that she could pray. Shall I, her murderess, pray for +her? My prayers would not be heard. And yet, to kill her unshriven will +be a twofold crime. Let me not look on her. My hand trembles. I can +scarce grasp the dagger. Let me think on all he has said. I have wronged +him. I am his bane, his curse! I have robbed him of all: there is but +one remedy--'tis _this_!--Oh, God! she recovers. I cannot do it now." + +It was a fearful moment for Eleanor's revival, when the bright steel +flashed before her eyes. Terror at once restored her. She cast herself +at Sybil's feet. + +"Spare, spare me!" cried she. "Oh! what a dream I have had. And to waken +thus, with the dagger's point at my breast. You will not kill me--you, +gentle maid, who promised to preserve me. Ah, no, I am sure you will +not." + +"Appeal no more to me," said Sybil, fiercely. "Make your peace with +Heaven. Your minutes are numbered." + +"I cannot pray," said Eleanor, "while you are near me." + +"Will you pray if I retire and leave you?" + +"No, no. I dare not--cannot," shrieked Eleanor, in extremity of terror. +"Oh! do not leave me, or let me go." + +"If you stir," said Sybil, "I stab you to the heart." + +"I will not stir. I will kneel here forever. Stab me as I kneel--as I +pray to you. You cannot kill me while I cling to you thus--while I kiss +your hands--while I bedew them with my tears. Those tears will not sully +them like my blood." + +"Maiden," said Sybil, endeavoring to withdraw her hand, "let go your +hold--your sand is run." + +"Mercy!" + +"It is in vain. Close your eyes." + +"No, I will fix them on you thus--you cannot strike then. I will cling +to you--embrace you. Your nature is not cruel--your soul is full of +pity. It melts--those tears--you will be merciful. You cannot +deliberately kill me." + +"I cannot--I cannot!" said Sybil, with a passionate outburst of grief. +"Take your life on one condition." + +"Name it." + +"That you wed Sir Luke Rookwood." + +"Ah!" exclaimed Eleanor, "all rushes back upon me at that name; the +whole of that fearful scene passes in review before me." + +"Do you reject my proposal?" + +"I dare not." + +"I must have your oath. Swear by every hope of eternity that you will +wed none other than him." + +"By every hope, I swear it." + +"Handassah, you will bear this maiden's oath in mind, and witness its +fulfilment." + +"I will," replied the gipsy girl, stepping forward from a recess, in +which she had hitherto remained unnoticed. + +"Enough. I am satisfied. Tarry with me. Stir not--scream not, whatever +you may see or hear. Your life depends upon your firmness. When I am no +more----" + +"No more?" echoed Eleanor, in horror. + +"Be calm," said Sybil. "When I am dead, clap your hands together. They +will come to seek you--they will find me in your stead. Then rush to +him--to Sir Luke Rookwood. He will protect you. Say to him hereafter +that I died for the wrong I did him--that I died, and blessed him." + +"Can you not live, and save me?" sobbed Eleanor. + +"Ask it not. While I live, your life is in danger. When I am gone, none +will seek to harm you. Fare you well! Remember your oath, and you, too, +remember it, Handassah. Remember also--ha! that groan!" + +All started, as a deep groan knelled in their ears. + +"Whence comes that sound?" cried Sybil. "Hist!--a voice?" + +"It is that of the priest," cried Eleanor. "Hark! he groans. They have +murdered him! Kind Heaven, receive his soul!" + +"Pray for me," cried Sybil: "pray fervently; avert your face; down on +your knees--down--down! Farewell, Handassah!" And breaking from them, +she rushed into the darkest recesses of the vault. + +We must now quit this painful scene for another scarcely less painful, +and return to the unfortunate priest. + +Checkley had been brought before the body of Susan Rookwood. Even in the +gloom, the shimmer of the white cereclothes, and the pallid features of +the corpse, were ghastly enough. The torchlight made them terrible. + +"Kneel!" said Alan Rookwood. The priest complied. Alan knelt beside him. + +"Do you know these features?" demanded he. "Regard them well. Fix your +eyes full upon them. Do you know them?" + +"I do." + +"Place your hand upon her breast. Does not the flesh creep and shrink +beneath your touch? Now raise your hand--make the cross of your faith +upon her bosom. By that faith you swear you are innocent." + +"I do," returned the priest; "are you now satisfied?" + +"No," replied Alan. "Let the torch be removed. Your innocence must be +more deeply attested," continued he, as the light was withdrawn. "This +proof will not fail. Entwine your fingers round her throat." + +"Have I not done enough?" + +"Your hesitation proves your guilt," said Alan. + +"That proof is wanting, then?" returned the priest; "my hand is upon her +throat--what more?" + +"As you hope for mercy in your hour of need, swear that you never +conspired against her life, or refused her mercy." + +"I swear it." + +"May the dead convict you of perjury if you have forsworn yourself," +said Alan; "you are free. Take away your hand!" + +"Ha! what is this?" exclaimed the priest. "You have put some jugglery +upon me. I cannot withdraw my hand. It sticks to her throat, as though +'twere glued by blood. Tear me away. I have not force enough to liberate +myself. Why do you grin at me? The corpse grins likewise. It is +jugglery. I am innocent. You would take away my life. Tear me away, I +say: the veins rise; they blacken; they are filling with new blood. I +feel them swell; they coil like living things around my fingers. She is +alive." + +"And you are innocent?" + +"I am--I am. Let not my ravings convict me. For Jesu's sake, release +me." + +"Blaspheme not, but arise. I hold you not." + +"You do," groaned the priest. "Your grasp tightens round my throat; your +hard and skinny fingers are there--I strangle--help!" + +"Your own fears strangle you. My hand is at my side," returned Alan +calmly. + +"Villain, you lie. Your grasp is like a vice. The strength of a thousand +devils is in your hand. Will none lend help? I never pressed so hard. +Your daughter never suffered this torture--never--never. I +choke--choke--oh!" And the priest rolled heavily backwards. + +There was a deep groan; a convulsive rattle in the throat; and all was +still. + +"He is dead--strangled," cried several voices, holding down the torch. +The face of the priest was blackened and contorted; his eyeballs +protruded from their sockets; his tongue was nearly bitten through in +the desperate efforts he had made to release himself from Alan's gripe; +his hair was erect with horror. It was a ghastly sight. + +A murmur arose amongst the gipsies. Barbara deemed it prudent to appease +them. + +"He was guilty," cried she. "He was the murderer of Susan Rookwood." + +"And I, _her father_, have avenged her," said Alan, sternly. + +The dreadful silence that followed this speech was broken by the report +of a pistol. The sound, though startling, was felt almost as a relief. + +"We are beset," cried Alan. "Some of you fly to reconnoitre." + +"To your posts," cried Barbara. + +Several of the crew flocked to the entrance. + +"Unbind the prisoners," shouted Alan. + +Mrs. Mowbray and Luke were accordingly set free. + +Two almost simultaneous reports of a pistol were now heard. + +"'Tis Ranulph Rookwood," said Alan; "that was the preconcerted signal." + +"Ranulph Rookwood," echoed Eleanor, who caught the exclamation: "he +comes to save me." + +"Remember your oath," gasped a dying voice. "He is no longer yours." + +"Alas! alas!" sobbed Eleanor, tremblingly. + +A moment afterwards a faint clapping of hands reached the ears of +Barbara. + +"All is over," muttered she. + +"Ha!" exclaimed Alan Rookwood, with a frightful look. "Is it done?" + +Barbara motioned him towards the further end of the vault. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIII_ + +_MR. COATES_ + + _Grimm._ Look, captain, here comes one of the bloodhounds of justice. + + _Schw._ Down with him. Don't let him utter a word. + + _Moor._ Silence, I will hear him. + + SCHILLER: _The Robbers_. + + +Gladly do we now exchange the dank atmosphere of Saint Cyprian's cell, +and the horrors which have detained us there so long, for balmy air, +genial sunshine, and the boon companionship of Dick Turpin. Upon +regaining the verdant ruins of the ancient priory, all appeared pretty +much as our highwayman had left it. Dick wended towards his mare. Black +Bess uttered an affectionate whinnying sound as he approached her, and +yielded her sleek neck to his caresses. No Bedouin Arab ever loved his +horse more tenderly than Turpin. + +"'Twill be a hard day when thou and I part!" murmured he, affectionately +patting her soft and silky cheeks. Bess thrust her nose into his hand, +biting him playfully, as much as to say, "That day will never arrive." +Turpin, at least, understood the appeal in that sense; he was skilled in +the language of the Houyhnhnms. "I would rather lose my right hand than +_that_ should happen," sighed he; "but there's no saying: the best of +friends must part; and thou and I may be one day separated: thy +destination is the knacker--mine, perhaps, the gibbet.--We are neither +of us cut out for old age, that's certain. Curse me if I can tell how it +is; since I've been in that vault, I've got some queer crotchet into my +head. I can't help likening thee to that poor gipsy wench, Sybil; but +may I be scragged if I'd use thee as her lover has used her. Ha!" +exclaimed he, drawing a pistol with a suddenness that made his +companions, Rust and Wilder, start, "we are watched. See you not how yon +shadow falls from behind the wall?" + +"I do," replied Rust. + +"The varmint shall be speedily unearthed," said Wilder, rushing to the +spot. + +In another instant the shadow manifested itself in a substantial little +personage, booted, spurred, and mud-bespattered. He was brought before +our highwayman, who had, meanwhile, vaulted into his saddle. + +"Mr. Coates!" cried Dick, bursting into a loud laugh at the ridiculous +figure presented to his view, "or the mud deceives me." + +"It does not deceive you, Captain Turpin," replied the attorney; "you +do, indeed, behold that twice unfortunate person." + +"What brings you here?" asked Dick. "Ah! I see, you are come to pay me +my wager." + +"I thought you gave me a _discharge_ for that," rejoined Coates, unable, +even in his distress, to resist the too-tempting quibble. + +"True, but it was _in blank_," replied Turpin readily; "and that don't +hold good in law, you know. You have thrown away a second chance. Play +or pay, all the world over. I shan't _let you off_ so easily this time, +depend upon it. Come, post the pony, or take your measure on that sod. +No more replications or rejoinders, sir, down with the dust. Fake his +clies, pals. Let us see what he has about him." + +"In the twinkling of a bed-post," replied Rust. "We'll turn him inside +out. What's here?" cried he, searching the attorney's pockets. "A brace +of barkers," handing a pair of pistols to Turpin, "a haddock, stuffed +with nothing, I'm thinking; one quid, two coach-wheels, half a bull, +three hogs, and a kick; a d--d dicky concern, captain." + +"Three hogs and a kick," muttered Coates; "the knave says true enough." + +"Is there nothing else?" demanded Dick. + +"Only an old snuffy fogle and a pewter sneezer." + +"No reader?[90] Try his hoxter."[91] + +"Here's a pit-man,[92] captain." + +"Give it me. Ah! this will do," cried Dick, examining the contents of +the pocket-book. "This is a glorious windfall indeed; a bill of exchange +for 500_l._, payable _on demand_, eh, Mr. Coates? Quick! indorse it, +sir. Here's pen and ink. Rascal! if you attempt to tear the bill, I'll +blow your brains out. Steady, sir, sign. Good!" added he, as Coates most +reluctantly indorsed the bill. "Good! good! I'll be off with this bill +to London to-night, before you can stop it. No courier can beat +Bess--ha, ha! Eh! what's this?" continued Dick, as, unfolding another +leaf of the pocket-book, he chanced upon a letter; "My Lady Rookwood's +superscription! Excuse me, Mr. Coates, I must have a peep at her +ladyship's billet-doux. All's safe with me--man of honor. I must detain +your _reader_ a moment longer." + +"You should take charge of yourself, then," replied Coates, sulkily. +"_You_ appear to be my reader." + +"Bravo!" cried Turpin. "You may jest now with impunity, Mr. Coates. You +have paid dear enough for your jokes; and when should a man be allowed +to be pleasant, if not at his own expense?--ha, ha! What's this?" +exclaimed he, opening the letter. "A ring, as I'm awake! and from her +ladyship's own fair finger, I'll be sworn, for it bears her cipher, +ineffaceably impressed as your image upon her heart--eh, Coates? Egad! +you are a lucky dog, after all, to receive _such_ a favor from _such_ a +lady--ha, ha! Meantime, I'll take care of it for you," continued Dick, +slipping the ring on his little finger. + +Turpin, we have before remarked, had a turn for mimicry; and it was with +an irresistible feeling of deferential awe creeping over him that Coates +heard the contents of Lady Rookwood's epistle delivered with an +enunciation as peremptory and imperious as that of her ladyship's self. +The letter was hastily indited, in a clear, firm hand, and partook of +its writer's decision of character. Dick found no difficulty in +deciphering it. Thus ran the missive: + + "Assured of your devotion and secrecy, I commit my own honor, and + that of my son, to your charge. Time will not permit me to see you, + or I would not write. But I place myself entirely in your hands. You + will not dare to betray my confidence. To the point:--A Major + Mowbray has just arrived here with intelligence that the body of + Susan Bradley--you will know to whom I allude--has been removed from + our family vault by a Romish priest and his assistants. How it came + there, or why it has been removed, I know not; it is not my present + purpose to inquire. Suffice it, that it now lies in a vault beneath + the ruins of Davenham Priory. My son, Sir Ranulph, who has lent a + credulous ear to the artful tales of the impostor who calls this + woman mother, is at present engaged in arming certain of the + household, and of the tenantry, to seize upon and bring away this + body, as resistance is apprehended from a horde of gipsies who + infest the ruins. Now, mark me. THAT BODY MUST NOT BE FOUND! Be it + your business to prevent its discovery. Take the fleetest horse you + can procure; spare neither whip nor spur. Haste to the priory; + procure by any means, and at any expense, the assistance of the + gipsies. Find out the body; conceal it, destroy it--do what you + will, so my son find it not. Fear not his resentment; I will bear + you harmless of the consequences with him. You will act upon my + responsibility. I pledge my honor for your safety. Use all despatch, + and calculate upon due requital from + + "MAUD ROOKWOOD. + + "Haste, and God speed you!" + +"God speed you!" echoed Dick, in his own voice, contemptuously. "The +devil drive you! would have been a fitter postscript. And it was upon +this precious errand you came, Mr. Coates?" + +"Precisely," replied the attorney; "but I find the premises preoccupied. +Fast as I have ridden, you are here before me." + +"And what do you now propose to do?" asked Turpin. + +"Bargain with you for the body," replied Coates, in an insinuating tone. + +"With _me_!" said Dick; "do you take me for a resurrection cove; for a +dealer in dead stock, eh! sirrah?" + +"I take you for one sufficiently _alive_, in a general way, to his own +interests," returned Coates. "These gentlemen may not, perhaps, be quite +so scrupulous, when they hear my proposals." + +"Be silent, sir," interrupted Turpin. "Hist! I hear the tramp of horses' +hoofs without. Hark! that shout." + +"Make your own terms before they come," said Coates. "Leave all to me. +I'll put 'em on a wrong scent." + +"To the devil with your terms," cried Turpin; "the signal!" And he +pulled the trigger of one of Coates's pistols, the shot of which rang in +the ears of the astounded attorney as it whizzed past him. "Drag him +into the mouth of the vault," thundered Turpin: "he will be a capital +cover in case of attack. Look to your sticks, and be on the +alert;--away!" + +Vainly did the unfortunate attorney kick and struggle, swear and scream; +his hat was pushed over his eyes; his bob-wig thrust into his mouth; and +his legs tripped from under him. Thus blind, dumb, and half-suffocated, +he was hurried into the entrance of the cell. + +Dick, meanwhile, dashed to the arched outlet of the ruin. He there drew +in the rein, and Black Bess stood motionless as a statue. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIV_ + +_DICK TURPIN_ + + Many a fine fellow with a genius extensive enough to have effected + universal reformation has been doomed to perish by the halter. But + does not such a man's renown extend through centuries and tens of + centuries, while many a prince would be overlooked in history were + it not the historian's interest to increase the number of his pages? + Nay, when the traveller sees a gibbet, does he not exclaim, "That + fellow was no fool!" and lament the hardship of the + times?--SCHILLER: _The Robbers_. + + +Turpin's quick eye ranged over the spreading sward in front of the +ancient priory, and his brow became contracted. The feeling, however, +was transient. The next instant saw him the same easy, reckless being he +had been before. There was a little more paleness in his cheek than +usual; but his look was keener, and his knees involuntarily clasped the +saddle more firmly. No other symptom of anxiety was perceptible. It +would be no impeachment to Dick's valor were it necessary to admit that +a slight tremor crossed him as he scanned the formidable array of his +opponents. The admission is needless. Dick himself would have been the +last man to own it; nor shall we do the memory of our undaunted +highwayman any such injustice. Turpin was intrepid to a fault. He was +rash; apt to run into risks for the mere pleasure of getting out of +them: danger was his delight, and the degree of excitement was always in +proportion to the peril incurred. After the first glance, he became, to +use his own expressive phrase, "as cool as a cucumber;" and continued, +as long as they permitted him, like a skilful commander, calmly to +calculate the numerical strength of his adversaries, and to arrange his +own plan of resistance. + +This troop of horsemen, for such it was, might probably amount in the +aggregate to twenty men, and presented an appearance like that of a +strong muster at a rustic fox-chase, due allowance being made for the +various weapons of offence; to-wit: naked sabers, firelocks, and a world +of huge horse-pistols, which the present _field_ carried along with +them. This resemblance was heightened by the presence of an old huntsman +and a gamekeeper or two, in scarlet and green jackets, and a few yelping +hounds that had followed after them. The majority of the crew consisted +of sturdy yeomen; some of whom, mounted upon wild, unbroken colts, had +pretty lives of it to maintain their seats, and curvetted about in "most +admired disorder;" others were seated upon more docile, but quite as +provoking specimens of the cart-horse breed, whose sluggish sides, +reckless alike of hobnailed heel or ash sapling, refused to obey their +riders' intimations to move; while others again, brought stiff, +wrong-headed ponies to the charge--obstinate, impracticable little +brutes, who seemed to prefer revolving on their own axis, and describing +absurd rotatory motions, to proceeding in the direct and proper course +pointed out to them. Dick could scarcely forbear laughing at these +ridiculous manœuvres; but his attention was chiefly attracted towards +three individuals, who were evidently the leaders of this warlike +expedition. In the thin, tall figure of the first of these he recognized +Ranulph Rookwood. With the features and person of the second of the +group he was not entirely unacquainted, and fancied--nor incorrectly +fancied--that his military bearing, or, as he would have expressed it, +"the soldier-like cut of his jib," could belong to no other than Major +Mowbray, whom he had once eased of a purse on Finchley Common. In the +round, rosy countenance and robustious person of the last of the trio he +discovered his ancient ally, Titus Tyrconnel. + +"Ah, Titus, my jewel, are you there?" exclaimed Dick, as he +distinguished the Irishman. "Come, I have _one_ friend among them whom I +may welcome. So, they see me now. Off they come, pell-mell. Back, Bess, +back!--slowly, wench, slowly--there--stand!" And Bess again remained +motionless. + +The report of Turpin's pistol reached the ears of the troop; and as all +were upon the alert, he had scarcely presented himself at the gateway, +when a loud shout was raised, and the whole cavalcade galloped towards +him, creating, as may be imagined, the wildest disorder; each horseman +yelling, as he neared the arch, and got involved in the press occasioned +by the unexpected concentration of forces at that point, while oaths and +blows, kicks and cuffs, were reciprocated with such hearty good-will, +that, had Turpin ever read Ariosto or Cervantes, or heard of the discord +of King Agramante's camp, this _mêlée_ must have struck him as its +realization. As it was, entertaining little apprehension of the result, +he shouted encouragement to them. Scarcely, however, had the foremost +horseman disentangled himself from the crowd, and, struggling to the +door, was in the act of levelling his pistol at Turpin's head, when a +well-directed ball pierced the brain of his charger, and horse and man +rolled to the ground. Vowing vengeance, a second succeeded, and was in +like manner compelled to bite the dust. + +"That will let Old Peter know that Ranulph Rookwood is at hand," +exclaimed Dick. "I shan't throw away another shot." + +The scene at the archway was now one of complete confusion. Terrified by +the shots, some of the boors would have drawn back, while others, in +mid career, advanced, and propelled them forwards. It was like the +meeting of two tides. Here and there, regardless of the bit, and scared +by the firing, a wild colt broke all bounds, and, hurling his rider in +the air, darted off into the green; or, in another case, rushed forward, +and encountering the prostrate cattle cumbering the entrance to the +priory hall, stumbled, and precipitated his master neck-over-heels at +the very feet of his enemy. During all this tumult, a few shots were +fired at the highwayman, which, without doing him a jot of mischief, +tended materially to increase their own confusion. + +The voice of Turpin was now heard above the din and turmoil to sound a +parley; and as he appeared disposed to offer no opposition, some of his +antagonists ventured to raise themselves from the ground, and to +approach him. + +"I demand to be led to Sir Ranulph Rookwood," said Turpin. + +"He is here," said Ranulph, riding up. "Villain, you are my prisoner." + +"As you list, Sir Ranulph," returned Dick, coolly; "but let me have a +word in private with you ere you do aught you may repent hereafter." + +"No words, sir--deliver up your arms, or----" + +"My pistols are at your service," replied Dick. "I have just discharged +them." + +"You may have others. We must search you." + +"Hold!" cried Dick; "if you will not listen to me, read that paper." And +he handed Ranulph his mother's letter to Mr. Coates. It was without the +superscription, which he had thrown aside. + +"My mother's hand!" exclaimed Ranulph, reddening with anger, as he +hastily perused its contents. "And she sent this to you? You lie, +villain--'tis a forgery." + +"Let this speak for me," returned Dick, holding out the finger upon +which Lady Rookwood's ring was placed. "Know you that cipher?" + +"You have stolen it," retorted Ranulph. "My mother," added he, in a +deep, stern whisper, articulated only for Turpin's hearing, "would never +have entrusted her honor to a highwayman's keeping." + +"She has entrusted more--her life," replied Dick, in a careless tone. +"She would have bribed me to do murder." + +"Murder!" echoed Ranulph, aghast. + +"Ay, to murder your brother," returned Dick; "but let that pass. You +have read that note. I have acted solely upon your mother's +responsibility. Lady Rookwood's _honor_ is pledged for my safety. Of +course her son will set me free." + +"Never!" + +"Well, as you please. Your mother is in my power. Betray me, and you +betray her." + +"No more!" returned Ranulph, sternly. "Go your ways. You are free." + +"Pledge me your word of honor I am safe." Ranulph had scarcely given his +pledge, when Major Mowbray rode furiously up. A deep flush of anger +burnt upon his cheeks; his sword was drawn in his hand. He glanced at +Turpin, as if he would have felled him from his saddle. + +"This is the ruffian," cried the major, fiercely, "by whom I was +attacked some months ago, and for whose apprehension the reward of three +hundred pounds is offered by his majesty's proclamation, with a free +pardon to his accomplices. This is Richard Turpin. He has just added +another crime to his many offences. He has robbed my mother and sister. +The postboy knew him the moment he came up. Where are they, villain? +Whither are they gone?--answer!" + +"I know not," replied Turpin, calmly. "Did not the lad tell you they +were rescued?" + +"Rescued!--by whom?" asked Ranulph, with great emotion. + +"By one who calls himself Sir Luke Rookwood," answered Turpin, with a +meaning smile. + +"By him!" ejaculated Ranulph. "Where are they now?" + +"I have already answered that question," said Dick. "I repeat, I know +not." + +"You are my prisoner," cried the major, seizing Turpin's bridle. + +"I have Sir Ranulph's word for my safety," rejoined Turpin. "Let go my +rein." + +"How is this?" asked Major Mowbray, incredulously. + +"Ask me not. Release him," replied Ranulph. + +"Ranulph," said the major, "you ask an impossibility. My honor--my +duty--is implicated in this man's capture." + +"The honor of all of us is involved in his deliverance," returned +Ranulph, in a whisper. "Let him go. I will explain all hereafter. Let us +search for them--for Eleanor. Surely, after this, you will help us to +find them," added he, addressing Turpin. + +"I wish, with all my soul, I could do so," replied the highwayman. + +"I see'd the ladies cross the brook, and enter these old ruins," +interposed the postboy, who had now joined the party. "I see'd 'em from +where I stood on the hill-side; and as I kept a pretty sharp look-out, +and have a tolerably bright eye of my own, I don't think as how they +ever comed out again." + +"Some one is hidden within yon fissure in the wall," exclaimed Ranulph; +"I see a figure move." + +And he flung himself from his horse, rushing towards the mouth of the +cell. Imitating his example, Major Mowbray followed his friend, sword in +hand. + +"The game begins now in right earnest," said Dick to himself; "the old +fox will be soon unearthed. I must look to my snappers." And he thrust +his hand quietly into his pocket in search of a pistol. + +Just as Ranulph and the major reached the recess they were startled by +the sudden apparition of the ill-fated attorney. + +"Mr. Coates!" exclaimed Ranulph, in surprise. "What do you here, sir?" + +"I--I--that is--Sir Ranulph--you must excuse me, sir--particular +business--can't say," returned the trembling attorney; for at this +instant his eye caught that of Turpin, and the ominous reflexion of a +polished-steel barrel, held carelessly towards him. He was aware, also, +that on the other hand he was, in like manner, the mark of Rust and +Wilder; those polite gentlemen having threatened him with a brace of +slugs in his brain if he dared to betray their hiding-place. "It is +necessary that I should be _guarded_ in my answers," murmured he. + +"Is there any one within that place besides yourself?" said the major, +making a movement thither. + +"No, sir, nobody at all," answered Coates, hastily, fancying at the same +time that he heard the click of the pistol that was to be his +death-warrant. + +"How came you here, sir?" demanded Ranulph. + +"Do you mean in this identical spot?" replied Coates, evasively. + +"You can have no difficulty in answering that question," said the major, +sternly. + +"Pardon me, sir. I find considerable difficulty in answering any +question, situated as I am." + +"Have you seen Miss Mowbray?" asked Ranulph, eagerly. + +"Or my mother?" said the major, in the same breath. + +"Neither," replied Coates, rather relieved by these questions. + +"I suspect you are deceiving us, sir," said the major. "Your manner is +confused. I am convinced you know more of this matter than you choose to +explain; and if you do not satisfy me at once, fully and explicitly, I +vow to Heaven----" and the major's sword described a glittering circle +round his head. + +"Are you privy to their concealment?" asked Ranulph. "Have you seen +aught of them, or of Luke Bradley?" + +"Speak, or this moment is your last," said the major. + +"If it _is_ my last, I _cannot_ speak," returned Coates. "I can make +neither head nor tail of your questions, gentlemen." + +"And you positively assure me you have not seen Mrs. Mowbray and her +daughter?" said Ranulph. + +Turpin here winked at Coates. The attorney understood him. + +"I don't positively assert that," faltered he. + +"How!--you _have_ seen them?" shouted Ranulph. + +"Where are they?--in safety--speak!" added the major. + +Another expressive gesture from the highwayman communicated to the +attorney the nature of his reply. + +"Without, sir--without--yonder," he replied. "I will show you myself. +Follow, gentlemen, follow." And away scampered Coates, without once +venturing to look behind him. + +In an instant the ruined hall was deserted, and Turpin alone left +behind. In the excitement of the moment his presence had been forgotten. +In an instant afterwards the _arena_ was again occupied by a company +equally numerous. Rust and Wilder issued from their hiding-places, +followed by a throng of the gipsy crew. + +"Where is Sir Luke Rookwood?" asked Turpin. + +"He remains below," was the answer returned. + +"And Peter Bradley?" + +"Stays there likewise." + +"No matter. Now make ready, pals. Give 'em one shout--Hurrah!" + +"Hurrah!" replied the crowd, at the top of their voices. + +Ranulph Rookwood and his companions heard this shout. Mr. Coates had +already explained the stratagem practised upon them by the wily +highwayman, as well as the perilous situation in which he himself had +been placed; and they were in the act of returning to make good his +capture, when the loud shouts of the crew arrested them. From the +clamor, it was evident that considerable reinforcement must have arrived +from some unlooked-for quarter; and, although burning to be avenged +upon the audacious highwayman, the major felt it would be a task of +difficulty, and that extreme caution could alone ensure success. With +difficulty restraining the impatience of Ranulph, who could scarcely +brook these few minutes of needful delay, Major Mowbray gave particular +instructions to each of the men in detail, and caused several of them to +dismount. By this arrangement Mr. Coates found himself accommodated with +a steed and a pair of pistols, with which latter he vowed to wreak his +vengeance upon some of his recent tormentors. After a short space of +time occupied in this manner, the troop slowly advanced towards the +postern, in much better order than upon the previous occasion; but the +stoutest of them quailed as they caught sight of the numerous gipsy-gang +drawn out in battle array within the abbey walls. Each party scanned the +other's movements in silence and wonder, anxiously awaiting, yet in a +measure dreading, their leader's signal to begin. That signal was not +long delayed. A shot from the ranks of Rookwood did instant and bitter +execution. Rob Rust was stretched lifeless upon the ground. Nothing more +was needed. The action now became general. Fire arms were discharged on +both sides, without much damage to either party. But a rush being made +by a detachment of horse, headed by Major Mowbray, the conflict soon +became more serious. The gipsies, after the first fire, threw aside +their pistols, and fought with long knives, with which they inflicted +desperate gashes, both on men and horses. Major Mowbray was slightly +wounded in the thigh, and his steed receiving the blow intended for +himself, stumbled and threw his rider. Luckily for the major, Ranulph +Rookwood was at hand, and with the butt-end of a heavy-handled pistol +felled the ruffian to the earth, just as he was upon the point of +repeating the thrust. + +Turpin, meanwhile, had taken comparatively a small share in the +conflict. He seemed to content himself with acting upon the defensive, +and except in the case of Titus Tyrconnel, whom, espying amidst the +crowd, he had considerably alarmed by sending a bullet through his wig, +he did not fire a single shot. He also succeeded in unhorsing Coates, by +hurling, with great dexterity, the empty pistol at his head. Though +apparently unconcerned in the skirmish, he did not flinch from it, but +kept his ground unyieldingly. "A charmed life" he seemed to bear; for +amid the shower of bullets, many of which were especially aimed at +himself, he came off unhurt. + +"He that's born to be hanged will never be drowned, that's certain," +said Titus. "It's no use trying to bring him down. But, by Jasus! he's +spoiled my best hat and wig, anyhow. There's a hole in my beaver as big +as a crown piece." + +"Your own crown's safe, and that's some satisfaction," said Coates; +"whereas mine has a bump on it as large as a swan's egg. Ah! if we could +only get behind him." + +The strife continued to rage without intermission; and though there were +now several ghastly evidences of its fury, in the shape of wounded men +and slaughtered or disabled horses, whose gaping wounds flooded the turf +with gore, it was still difficult to see upon which side victory would +eventually declare herself. The gipsies, though by far the greater +sufferers of the two, firmly maintained their ground. Drenched in the +blood of the horses they had wounded, and brandishing their long knives, +they presented a formidable and terrific appearance, the effect of which +was not at all diminished by their wild yells and savage gesticulations. +On the other hand, headed by Major Mowbray and Ranulph, the troop of +yeomen pressed on undauntedly; and where the sturdy farmers could get a +firm gripe of their lithe antagonists, or deliver a blow with their +ox-like fists, they seldom failed to make good the advantages which +superior weight and strength gave them. It will thus be seen that as yet +they were pretty well matched. Numbers were in favor of the gipsies, but +courage was equally distributed, and, perhaps, what is emphatically +called "bottom," was in favor of the rustics. Be this as it may, from +what had already occurred, there was every prospect of a very serious +termination to the fray. + +From time to time Turpin glanced to the entrance of the cell, in the +expectation of seeing Sir Luke Rookwood make his appearance; and, as he +was constantly disappointed in his expectation, he could not conceal his +chagrin. At length he resolved to despatch a messenger to him, and one +of the crew accordingly departed upon this errand. He returned presently +with a look of blank dismay. + +In our hasty narrative of the fight we have not paused to particularize, +neither have we enumerated, the list of the combatants. Amongst them, +however, were Jerry Juniper, the knight of Malta, and Zoroaster. +Excalibur, as may be conceived, had not been idle; but that trenchant +blade had been shivered by Ranulph Rookwood in the early stage of the +business, and the knight left weaponless. Zoroaster, who was not merely +a worshipper of fire, but a thorough milling-cove, had engaged to some +purpose in a pugilistic encounter with the rustics; and, having fought +several rounds, now "bore his blushing honors thick upon him." Jerry, +like Turpin, had remained tolerably quiescent. "The proper moment," he +said, "had not arrived." A fatality seemed to attend Turpin's immediate +companions. Rust was the first who fell; Wilder also was now among the +slain. Things were precisely in this condition when the messenger +returned. A marked change was instantly perceptible in Turpin's manner. +He no longer looked on with indifference. He seemed angry and +distrustful. He gnawed his lip, ever a sign with him of vexation. +Addressing a few words to those about him, he then spoke more loudly to +the rest of the crew. Being in the jargon of the tawny tribe, his words +were not intelligible to the opposite party; but their import was soon +made known by the almost instant and total relinquishment of the field +by the gipsies. They took to their heels at once, to a man, leaving only +a few desperately wounded behind them; and, flying along the intricate +ruins of the priory, baffled all pursuit, wherever it was attempted. +Jerry Juniper was the last in the retreat; but, upon receiving a hint +from Dick, he vaulted like a roe over the heads of his adversaries, and +made good his escape. Turpin alone remained. He stood like a lion at +bay, quietly regarding the huntsmen hurtling around him. Ranulph +Rookwood rode up and bade him surrender. + +"Detain me not," cried he, in a voice of thunder. "If you would save her +who is dear to you, descend into that vault. Off, I say." + +And Turpin shook away, with ease, the grasp that Ranulph had laid upon +him. + +"Villain! you do not escape me this time," said Major Mowbray, +interposing himself between Turpin and the outlet. + +"Major Mowbray, I would not have your blood upon my head," said Dick. +"Let me pass," and he levelled a pistol. + +"Fire, if you dare!" said the major, raising his sword. "You pass not. I +will die rather than allow you to escape. Barricade the door. Strike him +down if he attempts to pass. Richard Turpin, I arrest you in the king's +name. You hear, my lads, in his majesty's name. I command you to assist +me in this highwayman's capture. Two hundred pounds for his head." + +"Two hundred devils!" exclaimed Dick, with a laugh of disdain. "Go, seek +your mother and sister within yon vault, Major Mowbray; you will find +employment enough there." + +Saying which, he suddenly forced Bess to back a few yards; then, +striking his heels sharply into her sides, ere his purpose could be +divined by the spectators, charged, and cleared the lower part of the +mouldering priory walls. This feat was apparently accomplished with no +great effort by his admirable and unequalled mare. + +"By the powers!" cried Titus, "and he's given us the slip after all. And +just when we thought to make sure of him, too. Why, Mr. Coates, that +wall must be higher than a five-barred gate, or any stone wall in my own +country. It's just the most extraordinary lepp I ever set eyes on!" + +"The devil's in the fellow, certainly, or in his mare," returned Coates; +"but if he escapes me, I'll forgive him. I know whither he's bound. He's +off to London with my bill of exchange. I'll be up with him. I'll track +him like a bloodhound, slowly and surely, as my father, the thief-taker, +used to follow up a scent. Recollect the hare and the tortoise. The race +is not always to the swift. What say you? 'Tis a match for five hundred +pounds; nay, for five thousand: for there is a certain marriage +certificate in the way--a glorious golden venture! You shall go halves, +if we win. We'll have him, dead or alive. What say you for London, Mr. +Tyrconnel? Shall we start at once?" + +"With all my sowl," replied Titus. "I'm with you." And away this _par +nobile_ scoured. + +Ranulph, meantime, plunged into the vault. The floor was slippery, and +he had nigh stumbled. Loud and deep lamentations, and a wailing sound, +like that of a lament for the dead, resounded in his ears. A light at +the further extremity of the vault attracted his attention. He was +filled with terrible forebodings; but the worst reality was not so +terrible as suspense. He rushed towards the light. He passed the massive +pillars, and there, by the ruddy torch flame, discovered two female +figures. One was an old woman, fantastically attired, wringing her +hands, and moaning, or gibbering wild strains in broken, discordant, yet +pathetic tones. The other was Mrs. Mowbray. Both were images of despair. +Before them lay some motionless object. He noticed not that old woman; +he scarcely saw Mrs. Mowbray; he beheld only that object of horror. It +was the lifeless body of a female. The light fell imperfectly upon the +face; he could not discern the features, but the veil in which it was +swathed: that veil was Eleanor's! He asked no more. + +With a wild cry he rushed forward. "Eleanor, my beloved!" shrieked he. + +Mrs. Mowbray started at his voice, but appeared stunned and helpless. + +"She is dead," said Ranulph, stooping towards the body. "Dead--dead!" + +"Ay," echoed the old woman, in accents of equal anguish--"dead--dead!" + +"But this is _not_ Eleanor," exclaimed he, as he viewed the features +more closely. "This face, though beautiful, is not hers. This +dishevelled hair is black. The long lashes that shade her cheek are of +the same hue. She is scarce dead. The hand I clasp is yet warm--the +fingers are pliant." + +"Yet she is dead," said the old woman, in a broken voice, "she is +slain." + +"Who hath slain her?" asked Ranulph. + +"I--I--her mother, slew her." + +"You!" exclaimed Ranulph, horror-stricken. "And where is Eleanor?" asked +he. "Was she not here?" + +"Better she were here now, even though she were as that poor maid," +groaned Mrs. Mowbray, "than where she is." + +"Where is she, then?" asked Ranulph, with frantic eagerness. + +"Fled. Whither I know not." + +"With whom?" + +"With Sir Luke Rookwood--with Alan Rookwood. They have borne her hence. +Ranulph, you are too late." + +"Gone!" cried Ranulph, fiercely springing to his feet. "How escaped +they? There appears to be but one entrance to this vault. I will search +each nook and cranny." + +"'Tis vain," replied Mrs. Mowbray. "There is another outlet through yon +cell. By that passage they escaped." + +"Too true, too true," shouted Ranulph, who flew to examine the cell. +"And wherefore followed you not?" + +"The stone rolled to its mouth, and resisted my efforts. I could not +follow." + +"Torture and death! She is lost to me for ever!" cried Ranulph, +bitterly. + +"No!" exclaimed Barbara, clutching his arm. "Place your trust in me, and +I will find her for you." + +"You!" ejaculated Ranulph. + +"Even I," replied Barbara. "Your wrongs shall be righted--my Sybil be +avenged." + + + + +_BOOK IV_ + + +_THE RIDE TO YORK_ + + Then one halloo, boys! one loud cheering halloo! + To the swiftest of coursers, the gallant, the true, + For the sportsman unborn shall the memory bless + Of the horse of the highwayman, bonny Black Bess. + + RICHARD TURPIN. + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_THE RENDEZVOUS AT KILBURN_ + + _Hind._ Drink deep, my brave boys, of the bastinado; + Of stramazons, tinctures, and slié passatas; + Of the carricado, and rare embrocado; + Of blades, and rapier-hilts of surest guard; + Of the Vincentio and Burgundian ward. + Have we not bravely tossed this bombast foil-button? + Win gold and wear gold, boys, 'tis we that merit it. + + _Prince of Prigs' Revels._ + + _An excellent Comedy, replete with various conceits and Tarltonian + mirth._ + + +The present straggling suburb at the north-west of the metropolis, known +as Kilburn, had scarcely been called into existence a century ago, and +an ancient hostel, with a few detached farmhouses, were the sole +habitations to be found in the present populous vicinage. The place of +refreshment for the ruralizing cockney of 1737 was a substantial-looking +tenement of the good old stamp, with great bay windows, and a balcony in +front, bearing as its ensign the jovial visage of the lusty knight, Jack +Falstaff. Shaded by a spreading elm, a circular bench embraced the aged +trunk of the tree, sufficiently tempting, no doubt, to incline the +wanderer on those dusty ways to "rest and be thankful," and to cry +_encore_ to a frothing tankard of the best ale to be obtained within the +chimes of Bow bells. + +Upon a table, green as the privet and holly that formed the walls of the +bower in which it was placed, stood a great china bowl, one of those +leviathan memorials of bygone wassailry which we may sometimes +espy--reversed in token of its desuetude--perched on the top of an old +japanned closet, but seldom, if ever, encountered in its proper position +at the genial board. All the appliances of festivity were at hand. +Pipes and rummers strewed the board. Perfume, subtle, yet mellow, as of +pine and lime, exhaled from out the bowl, and, mingling with the scent +of a neighboring bed of mignonette and the subdued odor of the Indian +weed, formed altogether as delectable an atmosphere of sweets as one +could wish to inhale on a melting August afternoon. So, at least, +thought the inmates of the arbor; nor did they by any means confine +themselves to the gratification of a single sense. The ambrosial +contents of the china bowl proved as delicious to the taste as its +bouquet was grateful to the smell; while the eyesight was soothed by +reposing on the smooth sward of a bowling-green spread out immediately +before it, or in dwelling upon gently undulating meads, terminating, at +about a mile's distance, in the woody, spire-crowned heights of +Hampstead. + +At the left of the table was seated, or rather lounged, a slender, +elegant-looking young man, with dark, languid eyes, sallow complexion, +and features wearing that peculiarly pensive expression often +communicated by dissipation; an expression which, we regret to say, is +sometimes found more pleasing than it ought to be in the eyes of the +gentle sex. Habited in a light summer riding-dress, fashioned according +to the taste of the time, of plain and unpretending material, and rather +under than overdressed, he had, perhaps, on that very account, perfectly +the air of a gentleman. There was, altogether, an absence of pretension +about him, which, combined with great apparent self-possession, +contrasted very forcibly with the vulgar assurance of his showy +companions. The figure of the youth was slight, even to fragility, +giving little outward manifestation of the vigor of frame he in reality +possessed. This spark was a no less distinguished personage than Tom +King, a noted high-tobygloak of his time, who obtained, from his +appearance and address, the _sobriquet_ of the "Gentleman Highwayman." + +Tom was indeed a pleasant fellow in his day. His career was brief, but +brilliant: your meteors are ever momentary. He was a younger son of a +good family; had good blood in his veins, though not a groat in his +pockets. According to the old song-- + + When he arrived at man's estate, + It was _all the estate_ he had; + +and all the estate he was ever likely to have. Nevertheless, if he had +no income, he contrived, as he said, to live as if he had the mines of +Peru at his control--a miracle not solely confined to himself. For a +moneyless man, he had rather expensive habits. He kept his three nags; +and, if fame does not belie him, a like number of mistresses; nay, if we +are to place any faith in certain scandalous chronicles to which we have +had access, he was for some time the favored lover of a celebrated +actress, who, for the time, supplied him with the means of keeping up +his showy establishment. But things could not long hold thus. Tom was a +model of infidelity, and that was the only failing his mistress could +not overlook. She dismissed him at a moment's notice. Unluckily, too, he +had other propensities which contributed to involve him. He had a taste +for the turf--a taste for play--was well known in the hundreds of Drury, +and cut no mean figure at Howell's, and the faro tables there-anent. He +was the glory of the Smyrna, D'Osyndar's, and other chocolate houses of +the day; and it was at this time he fell into the hands of certain +dexterous sharpers, by whom he was at first plucked and subsequently +patronized. Under their tuition he improved wonderfully. He turned his +wit and talent to some account. He began to open his eyes. His nine +days' blindness was over. The dog saw. But, in spite of his quickness, +he was at length discovered, and ejected from Howell's in a manner that +left him no alternative. He must either have called out his adversary, +or have gone out himself. He preferred the latter, and took to the road; +and in his new line he was eminently successful. Fortunately, he had no +scruples to get over. Tom had what Sir Walter Scott happily denominates +"an indistinct notion of _meum_ and _tuum_," and became confirmed in the +opinion that everything he could lay hands upon constituted lawful +spoil. And then, even those he robbed, admitted that he was the most +gentlemanlike highwayman they had ever the fortune to meet with, and +trusted they might always be so lucky. So popular did he become upon the +road, that it was accounted a distinction to be stopped by him; he made +a point of robbing none but gentlemen, and--Tom's shade would quarrel +with us were we to omit them--ladies. His acquaintance with Turpin was +singular, and originated in a rencontre. Struck with his appearance, +Dick presented a pistol, and bade King deliver. The latter burst into a +laugh, and an explanation immediately ensued. Thenceforward they became +sworn brothers--the Pylades and Orestes of the road; and though seldom +seen together in public, had many a merry moonlight ride in company. + +Tom still maintained three mistresses, his valet, his groom--tiger, we +should have called him,--"and many a change of clothes besides," says +his biographer, "with which he appeared more like a lord than a +highwayman." And what more, we should like to know, would a lord wish to +have? Few younger sons, we believe, can boast so much; and it is chiefly +on their account, with some remote view to the benefit of the unemployed +youth of all professions, that we have enlarged so much upon Tom King's +history. The road, we must beg to repeat, is still open; the chances are +greater than they ever were; we fully believe it is _their_ only road to +preferment, and we are sadly in want of highwaymen! + +Fancy Tom lounging at D'Osyndar's, carelessly tapping his boots on the +steps; there he stands! Is he not a devilish good-looking, gentlemanlike +sort of fellow? You could never have taken him for a highwayman but for +our information. A waiter appears--supper is ordered at twelve--a +broiled chicken and a bottle of Burgundy--his groom brings his nags to +the door--he mounts. It is his custom to ride out on an evening--he is +less liable to interruption.[93] At Marylebone Fields--now the Regent's +Park,--his groom leaves him. He has a mistress in the neighborhood. He +is absent for a couple of hours, and returns gay or dispirited, as his +luck may have turned out. At twelve he is at supper, and has the night +before him. How very easy all this seems. Can it be possible we have no +Tom Kings? + +To return to Tom as he was in the arbor. Judging from his manner, he +appeared to be almost insensible to the presence of his companions, and +to be scarcely a partaker in their revelry. His back was towards his +immediate neighbor; his glass sparkled untouched at his elbow; and one +hand, beautifully white and small, a mark of his birth and +breeding--_crede_ Byron--rested upon the edge of the table, while his +thin, delicate digits, palpably demonstrative of his faculty of +adaptation--_crede_ James Hardy Vaux--were employed with a silver +toothpick. In other respects, he seemed to be lost in reverie, and was, +in all probability, meditating new exploits. + +Next to King sat our old friend Jerry Juniper; not, however, the Jerry +of the gipsies, but a much more showy-looking personage. Jerry was no +longer a gentleman of "three _outs_"--the difficulty would now have been +to say what he was "without." Snakelike he had cast his slough, and +rejoiced in new and brilliant investiture. His were "speaking garments, +speaking pockets too." His linen was of the finest, his hose of the +smartest. Gay rings glittered on his fingers; a crystal snuff-box +underwent graceful manipulation; a handsome gold repeater was sometimes +drawn from its location with a monstrous bunch of onions--_anglicè_, +seals--depending from its massive chain. Lace adorned his wrists, and +shoes--of which they had been long unconscious,--with buckles nearly as +large as themselves, confined his feet. A rich-powdered peruke and +silver-hilted sword completed the gear of the transmogrified Jerry, or, +as he now chose to be designated, Count Albert Conyers. The fact was, +that Jerry, after the _fracas_, apprehensive that the country would be +too hot for him, had, in company with Zoroaster, quitted the ranks of +the Canting Crew, and made the best of his way to town. A lucky _spice_ +on the road set them up; and having some acquaintance with Tom King, the +party, on their arrival, sought him out at his customary haunt, +D'Osyndar's, and enlisted under his banners. + +Tom received them with open arms, gave them unlimited use of his +wardrobe, and only required a little trifling assistance in return. He +had a grand scheme _in petto_, in the execution of which they could +mainly assist him. Jerry was a _Greek_ by nature, and could _land_ a +flat as well as the best of them. Zoroaster was just the man to _lose_ a +fight; or, in the language of the _Fancy_, to _play a cross_. No two +_legs_ could serve Tom's purposes better. He welcomed them with +fraternal affection. + +We will now proceed to reconnoitre Jerry's opposite neighbor, who was, +however, no other than that Upright Man, + + The Magus Zoroaster, that great name. + +Changed as was Juniper, the Magus was yet more whimsically +metamorphosed. Some traces of Jerry still remained, but not a vestige +was left of the original Dimber Damber. His tawny mother had not known +her son. This alteration, however, was not owing to change of dress; it +was the result of the punishment he had received at the "_set-to_" at +the priory. Not a feature was in its place; his swollen lip trespassed +upon the precincts of his nose; his nose trod hard upon his cheek; while +his cheek again, not to be behind the rest, rose up like an +apple-dumpling under his single eye,--single, we say--for, alas! there +was no speculation in the other. His dexter daylight was utterly +darkened, and, indeed, the orb that remained was as sanguinary a +luminary as ever struggled through a London fog at noonday. To borrow a +couplet or so from the laureate of the _Fancy_: + + --------One of his peepers was put + On the bankruptcy list, with his shop windows shut, + While the other made nearly as tag-rag a show, + All rimmed round with black like the _Courier_ in woe. + +One black patch decorated his rainbow-colored cheek; another adorned his +chin; a grinder having been dislodged, his pipe took possession of the +aperture. His toggery was that of a member of the prize-ring; what we +now call a "belcher" bound his throat; a spotted _fogle_ bandaged his +_jobbernowl_, and shaded his right peeper, while a white beaver crowned +the occiput of the Magus. And though, at first sight, there would appear +to be some incongruity in the association of such a battered character +as the Upright Man with his smart companions, the reader's wonder will +rapidly diminish, when he reflects that any distinguished P. C. man can +ever find a ready passport to the most exclusive society. Viewed in this +light, Zoroaster's familiarity with his _swell_ acquaintance occasioned +no surprise to old Simon Carr, the bottle-nosed landlord of the +Falstaff, who was a man of discernment in his way, and knew a thing or +two. Despite such striking evidences to the contrary, the Magus was +perfectly at his ease, and sacrificing as usual to the god of flame. His +mithra, or pipe, the symbol of his faith, was zealously placed between +his lips, and never did his Chaldean, Bactrian, Persian, Pamphylian, +Proconnesian, or Babylonian namesake, whichever of the six was the true +Zoroaster--_vide_ Bayle,--respire more fervently at the altar of fire, +than our Magus at the end of his enkindled tube. In his creed we believe +Zoroaster was a dualist, and believed in the co-existence and mystical +relation of the principles of good and ill; his pipe being his Yezdan, +or benign influence; his empty pouch his Ahreman, or the devil. We shall +not pause to examine his tenets; we meddle with no man's religious +opinions, and shall leave the Magus to the enjoyment of his own +sentiments, be they what they may. + +One guest alone remains, and him we shall briefly dismiss. The reader, +we imagine, will scarcely need to be told who was the owner of those +keen gray eyes; those exuberant red whiskers; that airy azure frock. It +was + + Our brave co-partner of the roads. + Skilful surveyor of highways and hedges; + +in a word--Dick Turpin! + +Dick had been called upon to act as president of the board, and an +excellent president he made, sedulously devoting himself to the due +administration of the punch-bowl. Not a rummer was allowed to stand +empty for an instant. Toast, sentiment, and anacreontic song, succeeded +each other at speedy intervals; but there was no speechifying--no +politics. He left church and state to take care of themselves. Whatever +his politics might be, Dick never allowed them to interfere with his +pleasures. His maxim was to make the most of the passing moment; the +_dum vivimus vivamus_ was never out of his mind; a precautionary measure +which we recommend to the adoption of all gentlemen of the like, or any +other precarious profession. + +Notwithstanding all Dick's efforts to promote conviviality, seconded by +the excellence of the beverage itself, conversation, somehow or other, +began to flag; from being general it became particular. Tom King, who +was no punch-bibber, especially at that time of day, fell into a deep +reverie; your gamesters often do so; while the Magus, who had smoked +himself drowsy, was composing himself to a doze. Turpin seized this +opportunity of addressing a few words on matters of business to Jerry +Juniper, or, as he now chose to be called, Count Conyers. + +"My dear count," said Dick, in a low and confidential tone, "you are +aware that my errand to town is accomplished. I have _smashed_ Lawyer +Coates's _screen_, pocketed the _dimmock_--here 'tis," continued he, +parenthetically, slapping his pockets,--"and done t'other trick in prime +twig for Tom King. With a cool thousand in hand, I might, if I chose, +rest awhile on my oars. But a quiet life don't suit me. I must be +moving. So I shall start to Yorkshire to-night." + +"Indeed!" said the _soi-disant_ count, in a languid tone--"so soon?" + +"I have nothing to detain me," replied Dick. "And, to tell you the +truth, I want to see how matters stand with Sir Luke Rookwood. I should +be sorry if he went to the wall for want of any assistance I can render +him." + +"True," returned the count; "one would regret such an occurrence, +certainly. But I fear your assistance may arrive a little too late. He +is pretty well done up, I should imagine, by this time." + +"That remains to be seen," said Turpin. "His case is a bad one, to be +sure, but I trust not utterly hopeless. With all his impetuosity and +pride, I like the fellow, and will help him, if I can. It will be a +difficult game to set him on his legs, but I think it may be done. That +underground marriage was sheer madness, and turned out as ill as such a +scheme might have been expected to do. Poor Sybil! if I could pipe an +eye for anything, it should be for her. I can't get her out of my head. +Give me a pinch of snuff. Such thoughts unman one. As to the priest, +that's a totally different affair. If he strangled his daughter, old +Alan did right to take the law into his own hands, and throttle him in +return. I'd have done the same thing myself; and, being a proscribed +Jesuit, returned, as I understand, without the king's license for so +doing, why Father Checkley's murder--if it must be so called, I can't +abide hard terms--won't lie very heavy at Alan's door. That, however, +has nothing to do with Sir Luke. He was neither accessory nor +principal. Still he will be in danger, at least from Lady Rookwood. The +whole county of York, I make no doubt, is up in arms by this time." + +"Then why go thither?" asked the count, somewhat ironically; "for my +part, I've a strange fancy for keeping out of harm's way as long as +possible." + +"Every man to his taste," returned Turpin; "I love to confront danger. +Run away! pshaw! always meet your foe." + +"True," replied the count, "half-way! but you go the whole distance. +What prudent man would beard the lion in his den?" + +"I never was a prudent man," rejoined Dick, smiling; "I have no +superfluous caution about me. Come what will, I shall try to find out +this Luke Rookwood, and offer him my purse, such as it is, and it is now +better lined than usual; a hand free to act as he lists; and a head +which, imprudent though it be, can often think better for others than +for its own master." + +"Vastly fine!" exclaimed the count, with an ill-disguised sneer. "I hope +you don't forget that the marriage certificate which you hold is +perfectly valueless now. The estates, you are aware----" + +"Are no longer Sir Luke's. I see what you are driving at, count," +returned Dick, coldly. "But he will need it to establish his claim to +the title, and he shall have it. While he was Sir Luke, with ten +thousand a year, I drove a hard bargain, and would have stood out for +the last stiver. Now that he is one of '_us_', a mere Knight of the +Road, he shall have it and welcome." + +"Perhaps Lady Rookwood, or Mrs. Mowbray, might be inclined to treat," +maliciously insinuated the count; "the title may be worth something to +Ranulph." + +"It is worth more to Luke; and if it were _not_, he gets it. Are you +satisfied?" + +"Perfectly," replied the count, with affected _bonhomie_; "and I will +now let you into a secret respecting Miss Mowbray, from which you may +gather something for your guidance in this matter; and if the word of a +woman is at all to be trusted, though individually I cannot say I have +much faith in it, Sir Luke's planetary hour is not yet completely +overcast." + +"That's exactly what I wish to know, my dear fellow," said Turpin, +eagerly. "You have already told me you were witness to a singular +interview between Miss Mowbray and Sir Luke after my departure from the +priory. If I mistook you not, the whole business will hinge upon that. +What occurred? Let me have every particular. The whole history and +mystery." + +"You shall have it with pleasure," said the count; "and I hope it may +tend to your benefit. After I had quitted the scene of action at the +priory, and at your desire left the Rookwood party masters of the field, +I fled with the rest of the crew towards the rocks. There we held a +council of war for a short time. Some were for returning to the fight; +but this was negatived entirely, and in the end it was agreed that those +who had wives, daughters, and sisters, should join them as speedily as +possible at their retreat in the Grange. As I happened to have none of +these attractive ties, and had only a troublesome mistress, who I +thought could take care of herself, I did not care to follow them, but +struck deeper into the wood, and made my way, guided by destiny, I +suppose, towards the cave." + +"The cave!" cried Dick, rubbing his hands; "I delight in a cave. Tom +King and I once had a cave of our own at Epping, and I'll have another +one of these fine days. A cave is as proper to a high-tobyman as a +castle to a baron. Pray go on." + +"The cave I speak of," continued the count, "was seldom used, except +upon great emergencies, by any of the Stop Hole Abbey crew. It was a +sort of retiring den of our old lioness Barbara, and, like all +belonging to her, respected by her dupes. However, the cave is a good +cave for all that; is well concealed by brushwood, and comfortably +lighted from a crevice in the rock above; it lies near the brink of the +stream, amongst the woods just above the waterfall, and is somewhat +difficult of approach." + +"I know something of the situation," said Turpin. + +"Well," returned the count, "not to lose time, into this den I crept, +and, expecting to find it vacant, you may imagine my surprise on +discovering that it was already occupied, and that Sir Luke Rookwood, +his granddad, old Alan, Miss Mowbray, and, worst of all, the very person +I wished most to avoid, my old flame Handassah, constituted the party. +Fortunately, they did not perceive my entrance, and I took especial care +not to introduce myself. Retreat, however, was for the moment +impracticable, and I was compelled to be a listener. I cannot tell what +had passed between the parties before my arrival, but I heard Miss +Mowbray implore Sir Luke to conduct her to her mother. He seemed half +inclined to comply with her entreaties; but old Alan shook his head. It +was then Handassah put in a word; the minx was ever ready at that. 'Fear +not,' said she, 'that she will wed Sir Ranulph. Deliver her to her +friends, I beseech you, Sir Luke, and woo her honorably. She will accept +you.' Sir Luke stared incredulously, and grim old Alan smiled. 'She has +sworn to be yours,' continued Handassah; 'sworn it by every hope of +heaven, and the oath has been sealed by blood--by Sybil's blood.'--'Does +she speak the truth?' asked Sir Luke, trembling with agitation. Miss +Mowbray answered not. 'You will not deny it, lady,' said Handassah. 'I +heard that oath proposed. I saw it registered. You cannot deny it.'--'I +do not,' replied Miss Mowbray, with much anguish of manner; 'if he claim +me, I am his.'--'And he will claim you,' said Alan Rookwood, +triumphantly. 'He has your oath, no matter how extorted--you must fulfil +your vow.'--'I am prepared to do so,' said Eleanor. 'But if you would +not utterly destroy me, let this maid conduct me to my mother, to my +friends.'--'To Ranulph?' asked Sir Luke, bitterly.--'No, no,' returned +Miss Mowbray, in accents of deepest despair, 'to my mother--I wish not +to behold him again.'--'Be it so,' cried Sir Luke; 'but remember, in +love or hate, you are mine; I shall claim the fulfilment of your oath. +Farewell. Handassah will lead you to your mother.' Miss Mowbray bowed +her head, but returned no answer, while, followed by old Alan, Sir Luke +departed from the cavern." + +"Whither went they?" demanded Turpin. + +"That I know not," replied Jerry. "I was about to follow, when I was +prevented by the abrupt entrance of another party. Scarcely, I think, +could the two Rookwoods have made good their retreat, when shouts were +heard without, and young Ranulph and Major Mowbray forced their way, +sword in hand, into the cave. Here was a situation--for _me_, I mean--to +the young lady, I make no doubt, it was pleasant enough. But my neck was +in jeopardy. However, you know I am not deficient in strength, and, upon +the present occasion, I made the best use of the agility with which +nature has endowed me. Amidst the joyous confusion--the sobbings, and +embracings, and congratulations that ensued--I contrived, like a wild +cat, to climb the rocky sides of the cave, and concealed myself behind a +jutting fragment of stone. It was well I did so, for scarcely was I +hidden, when in came old Barbara, followed by Mrs. Mowbray, and a dozen +others." + +"Barbara!" ejaculated Dick. "Was she a prisoner?" + +"No," replied Jerry; "the old hell-cat is too deep for that. She had +betrayed Sir Luke, and hoped they would seize him and his granddad. But +the birds were flown." + +"I'm glad she was baulked," said Dick. "Was any search made after them?" + +"Can't say," replied Jerry. "I could only indistinctly catch the sounds +of their voices from my lofty retreat. Before they left the cavern, I +made out that Mrs. Mowbray resolved to go to Rookwood, and to take her +daughter thither--a proceeding to which the latter demurred." + +"To Rookwood," said Dick, musingly. "Will she keep her oath, I wonder?" + +"That's more than I can say," said Jerry, sipping his punch. "'Tis a +deceitful sex!" + +"'Tis a deceitful sex, indeed," echoed Dick, tossing off a tumbler. "For +one Sybil we meet with twenty Handassahs, eh, count?" + +"Twenty!--say rather a hundred," replied Jerry. "'Tis a vile sex." + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_TOM KING_ + + _Grimm._ How gloriously the sun sets to-night. + + _Moor._ When I was a boy, my favorite thought was, that I should + live and die like yonder glorious orb. It was a boyish thought. + + _Grimm._ True, captain. + + _The Robbers._ + + +"Peace, base calumniators," exclaimed Tom King, aroused from his +toothpick reverie by these aspersions of the best part of creation. +"Peace, I say. None shall dare abuse that dear devoted sex in the +hearing of their champion, without pricking a lance with him in their +behalf. What do you, either of you, who abuse woman in that wholesale +style, know of her? Nothing--less than nothing; and yet you venture, +upon your paltry experience, to lift up your voices and decry the sex. +Now I _do_ know her; and upon my own experience avouch, that, as a sex, +woman, compared with man, is as an angel to a devil. As a sex, woman is +faithful, loving, self-sacrificing. _We_ 'tis that make her otherwise; +_we_, selfish, exacting, neglectful men; we teach her indifference, and +then blame her apt scholarship. We spoil our own hand, and then blame +the cards. No abuse of women in my hearing. Give me a glass of grog, +Dick. 'The sex!--three times three!'--and here's a song for you into the +bargain." Saying which, in a mellow, plaintive tone, Tom gave the +following: + + PLEDGE OF THE HIGHWAYMAN + + Come, fill up a bumper to Eve's fairest daughters, + Who have lavished their smiles on the brave and the free; + Toast the sweethearts of DUDLEY, HIND, WILMOT, and WATERS,[94] + Whate'er their attraction, whate'er their degree. + Pledge! pledge in a bumper, each kind-hearted maiden, + Whose bright eyes were dimmed at the highwayman's fall; + Who stood by the gallows with sorrow o'erladen, + Bemoaning the fate of the gallant DU-VAL! + + Here's to each lovely lass chance of war bringeth near one, + Whom, with manner impassioned, we tenderly stop; + And to whom, like the lover addressing his dear one, + In terms of entreaty _the question_ we pop. + How oft, in such case, rosy lips have proved sweeter + Than the rosiest book, bright eyes saved a bright ring; + While that _one other_ kiss has brought off a _repeater_, + And a bead as a _favor_--the _favorite_ string. + + With our hearts ready rifled, each pocket we rifle, + With the pure flame of chivalry stirring our breasts; + Life's risk for our _mistress's praise_ is a trifle; + And each purse as a _trophy_ our _homage_ attests. + Then toss off your glasses to all girls of spirit, + Ne'er with names, or with number, your memories vex; + Our toast, boys, embraces each woman of merit, + And, for fear of omission, we'll drink the WHOLE SEX. + +"Well," replied Dick, replenishing King's rummer, while he laughed +heartily at his ditty, "I shan't refuse your toast, though my heart +don't respond to your sentiments. Ah, Tom! the sex you praise so much +will, I fear, prove your undoing. Do as you please, but curse me if ever +I pin my life to a petticoat. I'd as soon think of neglecting the four +cautions." + +"The four cautions," said King; "what are they?" + +"Did you never hear them?" replied Dick. "Attend, then, and be edified." + + THE FOUR CAUTIONS + + Pay attention to these cautions four, + And through life you will need little more, + Should you dole out your days to threescore + Beware of a pistol before! + Before! before! + Beware of a pistol before! + + And when backward his ears are inclined, + And his tail with his ham is combined, + Caution two you will bear in your mind: + Beware of a prancer behind! + Behind! behind! + Beware of a prancer behind! + + Thirdly, when in the park you may ride, + On your best bit of blood, sir, astride, + Chatting gay to your old friend's young bride: + Beware of a coach at the side! + At the side! at the side! + Beware of a coach at the side! + + Lastly, whether in purple or gray, + Canter, ranter, grave, solemn, or gay, + Whate'er he may do or may say, + Beware of a priest every way! + Every way! every way! + Beware of a priest every way! + +"Well," said Tom King, "all you can sing or say don't alter my good +opinion of the women. Not a secret have I from the girl of my heart. She +could have sold me over and over again if she had chosen, but my sweet +Sue is not the wench to do that." + +"It is not too late," said Dick. "Your Delilah may yet hand you over to +the Philistines." + +"Then I shall die in a good cause," said King; "but + + The Tyburn Tree + Has no terrors for me, + Let better men swing--I'm at liberty. + +I shall never come to the scragging-post, unless you turn topsman, Dick +Turpin. My nativity has been cast, and the stars have declared I am to +die by the hand of my best friend--and that's you--eh? Dick?" + +"It sounds like it," replied Turpin; "but I advise you not to become too +intimate with Jack Ketch. He may prove your best friend, after all." + +"Why, faith, that's true," replied King, laughing; "and if I must ride +backwards up Holborn Hill, I'll do the thing in style, and honest Jack +Ketch shall never want his dues. A man should always die game. We none +of us know how soon our turn may come; but come when it will, _I_ shall +never flinch from it. + + As the highwayman's life is the fullest of zest, + So the highwayman's death is the briefest and best; + He dies not as other men die, by degrees, + But at once! without flinching--and quite at his ease! + +as the song you are so fond of says. When I die it will not be of +consumption. And if the surgeon's knife must come near me, it will be +after death. There's some comfort in that reflection, at all events." + +"True," replied Turpin, "and, with a little alteration, my song would +suit you capitally: + + There is not a king, should you search the world round, + So blithe as the king's king, TOM KING, to be found; + Dear woman's his empire, each girl is his own, + And he'd have a long reign if he'd let 'em alone. + +Ha, ha!" + +"Ha, ha!" laughed Tom. "And now, Dick, to change the subject. You are +off, I understand, to Yorkshire to-night. 'Pon my soul, you are a +wonderful fellow--an _alibi_ personified!--here and everywhere at the +same time--no wonder you are called the flying highwayman. To-day in +town--to-morrow at York--the day after at Chester. The devil only knows +where you will pitch your quarters a week hence. There are rumors of you +in all counties at the same moment. This man swears you robbed him at +Hounslow; that on Salisbury Plain; while another avers you monopolize +Cheshire and Yorkshire, and that it isn't safe even to _hunt_ without +pops in your pocket. I heard some devilish good stories of you at +D'Osyndar's t'other day; the fellow who told them to me little thought I +was a brother blade." + +"You flatter me," said Dick, smiling complacently; "but it's no merit of +mine. Black Bess alone enables me to do it, and hers be the credit. +Talking of being everywhere at the same time, you shall hear what she +once did for me in Cheshire. Meantime, a glass to the best mare in +England. You won't refuse that toast, Tom. Ah! if your mistress is only +as true to you as my nag to me, you might set at naught the tightest +hempen cravat that was ever twisted, and defy your best friend to hurt +you. Black Bess! and God bless her! And now for the song." Saying which, +with much emotion, Turpin chanted the following rhymes: + + BLACK BESS + + Let the lover his mistress's beauty rehearse, + And laud her attractions in languishing verse; + Be it mine in rude strains, but with truth to express, + The love that I bear to my bonny Black Bess. + + From the west was her dam, from the east was her sire, + From the one came her swiftness, the other her fire; + No peer of the realm better blood can possess + Than flows in the veins of my bonny Black Bess. + + Look! Look! how that eyeball grows bright as a brand! + That neck proudly arches, those nostrils expand! + Mark! that wide flowing mane! of which each silky tress + Might adorn prouder beauties--though none like Black Bess. + + Mark! that skin sleek as velvet, and dusky as night, + With its jet undisfigured by one lock of white; + That throat branched with veins, prompt to charge or caress + Now is she not beautiful?--bonny Black Bess! + + Over highway and by-way, in rough and smooth weather, + Some thousands of miles have we journeyed together; + Our couch the same straw, and our meal the same mess + No couple more constant than I and Black Bess. + + By moonlight, in darkness, by night, or by day, + Her headlong career there is nothing can stay; + She cares not for distance, she knows not distress: + Can you show me a courser to match with Black Bess? + +"Egad! I should think not," exclaimed King; "you are as sentimental on +the subject of your mare, as I am when I think of my darling Susan. But +pardon my interruption. Pray proceed." + +"Let me first clear my throat," returned Dick; "and now to resume:" + + Once it happened in Cheshire, near Dunham, I popped + On a horseman alone, whom I speedily stopped; + That I lightened his pockets you'll readily guess-- + Quick work makes Dick Turpin when mounted on Bess. + + Now it seems the man knew me; "Dick Turpin," said he, + "You shall swing for this job, as you live, d'ye see;" + I laughed at his threats and his vows of redress; + I was sure of an _alibi_ then with Black Bess. + + The road was a hollow, a sunken ravine,[95] + Overshadowed completely by wood like a screen; + I clambered the bank, and I needs must confess, + That one touch of the spur grazed the side of Black Bess. + + Brake, brook, meadow, and plough'd field, Bess fleetly bestrode, + As the crow wings her flight we selected our road; + We arrived at Hough Green in five minutes, or less-- + My neck it was saved by the speed of Black Bess. + + Stepping carelessly forward, I lounge on the green, + Taking excellent care that by all I am seen; + Some remarks on time's flight to the squires I address, + But I say not a word of the flight of Black Bess. + + I mention the hour--it was just about four-- + Play a rubber at bowls--think the danger is o'er; + When athwart my next game, like a checkmate at chess, + Comes the horsemen in search of the rider of Bess. + + What matter details? Off with triumph I came; + He swears to the hour, and the squires swear the same; + I had robbed him at _four_!--while at four _they_ profess + I was quietly bowling--all thanks to Black Bess! + + Then one halloo, boys, one loud cheering halloo! + To the swiftest of coursers, the gallant, the true! + For the sportsman unborn shall the memory bless + Of the horse of the highwayman, bonny Black Bess! + +Loud acclamations rewarded Dick's performance. Awakened from his doze, +Zoroaster beat time to the melody, the only thing, Jerry said, he was +capable of _beating_ in his present shattered condition. After some +little persuasion, the Magus was prevailed upon to enliven the company +with a strain, which he trolled forth after a maudlin manner: + + THE DOUBLE CROSS + + Though all of us have heard of _crost_ fights, + And certain _gains_, by certain _lost_ fights, + I rather fancies that it's news, + How in a mill, _both_ men should _lose_; + For vere the _odds_ are thus made _even_, + It plays the dickens with the _steven_;[96] + Besides, against all rule they're sinning, + Vere _neither_ has _no_ chance of vinning. + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + + Two _milling coves_, each vide avake, + Vere backed to fight for heavy stake: + But in the mean time, so it vos, + Both _kids_ agreed to _play a cross_; + Bold came each _buffer_[97] to the _scratch_, + To make it look a _tightish match_; + They _peeled_[98] in style, and bets vere making, + 'Tvos six to four, but few vere _taking_. + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + + Quite cautiously the mill began, + For neither knew the other's plan; + Each _cull_[99] completely in the _dark_, + Of vot might be his neighbor's _mark_; + Resolved his _fibbing_[100] not to mind, + Nor yet to _pay him back in kind_; + So on each other _kept they tout_,[101] + And _sparred_ a bit, and _dodged_ about, + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + + Vith _mawleys_[102] raised, Tom bent his back, + As if to _plant_ a heavy thwack: + Vile Jem, with neat left-handed _stopper_, + Straight threatened Tommy with a _topper_; + 'Tis all my eye! no _claret_ flows, + No _facers_ sound--no smashing blows-- + Five minutes pass, yet not a _hit_, + How can it end, pals?--vait a bit. + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + + Each cove vas _teazed_ with double duty, + To please his backers, yet _play booty_;[103] + Ven, luckily for Jem, a _teller_ + Vos planted right upon his _smeller_; + Down dropped he, stunned; ven time vas called, + Seconds in vain the _seconds_ bawled; + The _mill_ is o'er, the crosser _crost_, + The loser's _von_, the vinner's _lost_! + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + +The party assumed once more a lively air, and the glass was circulated +so freely, that at last a final charge drained the ample bowl of its +contents. + +"The best of friends must part," said Dick; "and I would willingly order +another whiff of punch, but I think we have all had _enough to satisfy +us_, as you milling coves have it, Zory! Your one eye has got a drop in +it already, old fellow; and, to speak the truth, I must be getting into +the saddle without more delay, for I have a long ride before me. And +now, friend Jerry, before I start, suppose you tip us one of your merry +staves; we haven't heard your pipe to-day, and never a cross cove of us +all can throw off so prime a chant as yourself. A song! a song!" + +"Ay, a song!" reiterated King and the Magus. + +"You do me too much honor, gemmen," said Jerry, modestly, taking a pinch +of snuff; "I am sure I shall be most happy. My chants are all of a sort. +You must make all due allowances--hem!" And, clearing his throat, he +forthwith warbled + + THE MODERN GREEK + + (_Not_ translated from the Romaic.) + + Come, gemmen, name, and make your game, + See, round the ball is spinning. + Black, red, or blue, the colors view, + _Une_, _deux_, _cinque_, 'tis beginning, + Then make your game, + The color name, + While round the ball is spinning. + + This sleight of hand my _flat_ shall _land_ + While _covered_ by my _bonnet_,[104] + I _plant_ my ball, and boldly call, + Come make your game upon it! + Thus rat-a-tat! + I land my flat! + 'Tis black--not red--is winning. + + At gay _roulette_ was never met + A lance like mine for _bleeding_! + I'm ne'er _at fault_, at nothing halt, + All other _legs_ preceding. + To all awake, + I never shake + A _mag_[105] unless I nip it. + + _Blind-hookey_ sees how well I squeeze + The _well-packed_ cards in shuffling. + Ecarté, whist, I never missed, + A nick the _broads_[106] while ruffling. + Mogul or loo, + The same I do, + I am down to trumps as trippet! + + _French hazard_ ta'en, _I nick the main_, + Was ne'er so prime a _caster_. + No _crabs_ for me, I'm fly, d'ye see; + The bank shall change its master. + Seven _quatre_, _trois_, + The stakes are high! + Ten _mains_! ten _mains_ are mine, pals! + + At _Rouge et Noir_, you _hellite_[107] choir + I'll make no bones of stripping; + One glorious _coup_ for me shall _do_, + While they may deal each _pip_ in. + _Trente-un-après_ + Ne'er clogs my way; + The game--the game's divine, pals. + + At billiards set, I make my bet, + I'll _score_ and win the _rub_, pals; + I miss my _cue_, my _hazard_, too, + But yet my foe I'll drub, pals. + That _cannon-twist_, + I ne'er had missed, + Unless to suit my views, pals. + + To make all right, the match look _tight_, + This trick, you know, is done, pals; + But now be gay, I'll _show_ my play-- + Hurrah! the game is won, pals. + No hand so fine, + No wrist like mine, + No odds I e'er refuse, pals. + + Then choose your game; whate'er you name, + To me alike all offers; + Chic-hazard, whist, whate'er you list, + Replenish quick your coffers. + Thus, rat-a-tat! + I _land_ my _flat_! + To every purse I _speak_, pals. + + _Cramped boxes_ 'ware, all's right and fair, + _Barred balls_ I _bar_ when goaded; + The deuce an ace is out of place! + The deuce a die is _loaded_! + Then make your game, + Your color name; + Success attend the _Greek_, pals. + +"Bravo, Jerry--bravissimo!" chorused the party. + +"And now, pals, farewell!--a long farewell!" said Dick, in a tone of +theatrical valediction. "As I said before, the best friends must +separate. We may soon meet again, or we now may part forever. We cannot +command our luck; but we can make the best of the span allotted to us. +You have your game to play. I have mine. May each of us meet with the +success he deserves." + +"Egad! I hope not," said King. "I'm afraid, in that case, the chances +would be against us." + +"Well, then, the success we anticipate, if you prefer it," rejoined +Dick. "I have only to observe one thing more, namely, that I must insist +upon standing Sam upon the present occasion. Not a word. I won't hear a +syllable. Landlord, I say--what oh!" continued Dick, stepping out of the +arbor. "Here, my old Admiral of the White, what's the reckoning?--what's +to pay, I say?" + +"Let ye know directly, sir," replied mine host of the Falstaff. + +"Order my horse--the black mare," added Dick. + +"And mine," said King, "the sorrel colt. I'll ride with you a mile or +two on the road, Dick; perhaps we may stumble upon something." + +"Very likely." + +"We meet at twelve, at D'Osyndar's, Jerry," said King, "if nothing +happens." + +"Agreed," responded Juniper. + +"What say you to a rubber at bowls, in the mean time?" said the Magus, +taking his everlasting pipe from his lips. + +Jerry nodded acquiescence. And while they went in search of the +implements of the game, Turpin and King sauntered gently on the green. + +It was a delicious evening. The sun was slowly declining, and glowed +like a ball of fire amid the thick foliage of a neighboring elm. +Whether, like the robber Moor, Tom King was touched by this glorious +sunset, we pretend not to determine. Certain it was that a shade of +inexpressible melancholy passed across his handsome countenance, as he +gazed in the direction of Harrow-on-the Hill, which, lying to the west +of the green upon which they walked, stood out with its pointed spire +and lofty college against the ruddy sky. He spoke not. But Dick noticed +the passing emotion. + +"What ails you, Tom?" said he, with much kindness of manner--"are you +not well, lad?" + +"Yes, I am well enough," said King; "I know not what came over me, but +looking at Harrow, I thought of my school days, and what I was _then_, +and that bright prospect reminded me of my boyish hopes." + +"Tut--tut," said Dick, "this is idle--you are a man now." + +"I know I am," replied Tom, "but I _have_ been a boy. Had I any faith in +presentiments, I should say this is the last sunset I shall ever see." + +"Here comes our host," said Dick, smiling. "I've no presentiment that +this is the last bill I shall ever pay." + +The bill was brought and settled. As Turpin paid it, the man's conduct +was singular, and awakened his suspicions. + +"Are our horses ready?" asked Dick, quickly. + +"They are, sir," said the landlord. + +"Let us be gone," whispered Dick to King; "I don't like this fellow's +manner. I thought I heard a carriage draw up at the inn door just +now--there may be danger. Be fly!" added he to Jerry and the Magus. +"Now, sir," said he to the landlord, "lead the way. Keep on the alert, +Tom." + +Dick's hint was not lost upon the two bowlers. They watched their +comrades; and listened intently for any manifestation of alarm. + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_A SURPRISE_ + + Was this well done, Jenny?--_Captain Macheath._ + + +While Turpin and King are walking across the bowling-green, we will see +what has taken place outside the inn. Tom's presentiments of danger were +not, it appeared, without foundation. Scarcely had the ostler brought +forth our two highwaymen's steeds, when a post-chaise, escorted by two +or three horsemen, drove furiously up to the door. The sole occupant of +the carriage was a lady, whose slight and pretty figure was all that +could be distinguished, her face being closely veiled. The landlord, who +was busied in casting up Turpin's account, rushed forth at the summons. +A word or two passed between him and the horsemen, upon which the +former's countenance fell. He posted in the direction of the garden; and +the horsemen instantly dismounted. + +"We have him now, sure enough," said one of them, a very small man, who +looked, in his boots, like Buckle equipped for the Oaks. + +"By the powers! I begin to think so," replied the other horseman. "But +don't spoil all, Mr. Coates, by being too precipitate." + +"Never fear that, Mr. Tyrconnel," said Coates; for it was the gallant +attorney: "he's sure to come for his mare. That's a _trap_ certain to +catch him, eh, Mr. Paterson? With the chief constable of Westminster to +back us, the devil's in it if we are not a match for him." + +"And for Tom King, too," replied the chief constable; "since his +blowen's peached, the game's up with him, too. We've long had an eye +upon him, and now we'll have a finger. He's one of your dashing trouts +to whom we always give a long line, but we'll _land_ him this time, +anyhow. If you'll look after Dick Turpin, gemmen, I'll make sure of +Tom." + +"I'd rather you would help _us_, Mr. Paterson," said Coates; "never mind +Tom King; another time will do for him." + +"No such thing," said Paterson; "one _weighs_ just as much for that +matter as t'other. I'll take Tom to myself, and surely you two, with the +landlord and ostler, can manage Turpin amongst you." + +"I don't know that," said Coates, doubtfully; "he's a devil of a fellow +to deal with." + +"Take him quietly," said Paterson. "Draw the chaise out of the way, lad. +Take our tits to one side, and place their nags near the door, ostler. +Shall you be able to see him, ma'am, where you are?" asked the chief +constable, walking to the carriage, and touching his hat to the lady +within. Having received a satisfactory nod from the bonnet and veil, he +returned to his companions. "And now, gemmen," added he, "let's step +aside a little. Don't use your fire-arms too soon." + +As if conscious of what was passing around her, and of the danger that +awaited her master, Black Bess exhibited so much impatience, and plunged +so violently, that it was with difficulty the ostler could hold her. +"The devil's in the mare," said he; "what's the matter with her? She was +quiet enough a few minutes since. Soho! lass, stand." + +Turpin and King, meanwhile, walked quickly through the house, preceded +by the host, who conducted them, and not without some inward +trepidation, towards the door. Arrived there, each man rushed swiftly to +his horse. Dick was in the saddle in an instant, and stamping her foot +on the ostler's leg, Black Bess compelled the man, yelling with pain, to +quit his hold of the bridle. Tom King was not equally fortunate. Before +he could mount his horse, a loud shout was raised, which startled the +animal, and caused him to swerve, so that Tom lost his footing in the +stirrup, and fell to the ground. He was instantly seized by Paterson, +and a struggle commenced, King endeavoring, but in vain, to draw a +pistol. + +"Flip him,[108] Dick; fire, or I'm taken," cried King. "Fire! damn you, +why don't you fire?" shouted he, in desperation, still struggling +vehemently with Paterson, who was a strong man, and more than a match +for a light weight like King. + +"I can't," cried Dick; "I shall hit you, if I fire." + +"Take your chance," shouted King. "Is _this_ your friendship?" + +Thus urged, Turpin fired. The ball ripped up the sleeve of Paterson's +coat, but did not wound him. + +"Again!" cried King. "Shoot him, I say. Don't you hear me? Fire again!" + +Pressed as he was by foes on every side, himself their mark, for both +Coates and Tyrconnel had fired upon him, and were now mounting their +steeds to give chase, it was impossible that Turpin could take sure aim; +added to which, in the struggle, Paterson and King were each moment +changing their relative positions. He, however, would no longer +hesitate, but again, at his friend's request, fired. The ball lodged +itself in King's breast! He fell at once. At this instant a shriek was +heard from the chaise: the window was thrown open, and her thick veil +being drawn aside, the features of a very pretty female, now impressed +with terror and contrition, were suddenly exhibited. + +King fixed his glazing eyes upon her. + +"Susan!" sighed he, "is it you that I behold?" + +"Yes, yes, 'tis she, sure enough," said Paterson. "You see, ma'am, what +you and such like have brought him to. However, you'll lose your reward; +he's going fast enough." + +"Reward!" gasped King; "reward! Did she betray me?" + +"Ay, ay, sir," said Paterson, "she blowed the gaff, if it's any +consolation to you to know it." + +"Consolation!" repeated the dying man; "perfidious!--oh!--the +prophecy--my best friend--Turpin--I die by his hand." + +And vainly striving to raise himself, he fell backwards and expired. +Alas, poor Tom! + +"Mr. Paterson! Mr. Paterson!" cried Coates; "leave the landlord to look +after the body of that dying ruffian, and mount with us in pursuit of +the living rascal. Come, sir; quick! mount! despatch! You see he is +yonder; he seems to hesitate; we shall have him now." + +"Well, gemmen, I'm ready," said Paterson; "but how the devil came you to +let him escape?" + +"Saint Patrick only knows!" said Titus; "he's as slippery as an +eel--and, like a cat, turn him which way you will, he is always sure to +alight upon his legs. I wouldn't wonder but we lose him now, after all, +though he has such a small start. That mare flies like the wind." + +"He shall have a tight run for it, at all events," said Paterson, +putting spurs into his horse. "I've got a good nag under me, and you are +neither of you badly mounted. He's only three hundred yards before us, +and the devil's in it if we can't run him down. It's a three hundred +pound job, Mr. Coates, and well worth a race." + +"You shall have another hundred from me, sir, if you take him," said +Coates, urging his steed forward. + +"Thank you, sir, thank you. Follow my directions, and we'll make sure of +him," said the constable. "Gently, gently, not so fast up the hill--you +see he's breathing his horse. All in good time, Mr. Coates--all in good +time, sir." + +And maintaining an equal distance, both parties cantered leisurely up +the ascent now called Windmill Hill. We shall now return to Turpin. + +Aghast at the deed he had accidentally committed, Dick remained for a +few moments irresolute; he perceived that King was mortally wounded, and +that all attempts at rescue would be fruitless; he perceived, likewise, +that Jerry and the Magus had effected their escape from the +bowling-green, as he could detect their figures stealing along the +hedge-side. He hesitated no longer. Turning his horse, he galloped +slowly off, little heeding the pursuit with which he was threatened. + +"Every bullet has its billet," said Dick; "but little did I think that I +really should turn poor Tom's executioner. To the devil with this +rascally snapper," cried he, throwing the pistol over the hedge. "I +could never have used it again. 'Tis strange, too, that he should have +foretold his own fate--devilish strange! And then that he should have +been betrayed by the very blowen he trusted! that's a lesson, if I +wanted any. But trust a woman!--not I, the length of my little finger." + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_THE HUE AND CRY_ + + Six gentlemen upon the road + Thus seeing Gilpin fly, + With postboy scampering in the rear, + They raised the hue and cry: + + Stop thief! stop thief! a highwayman! + Not one of them was mute; + And all and each that passed that way + Did join in the pursuit. + + _John Gilpin._ + + +Arrived at the brow of the hill, whence such a beautiful view of the +country surrounding the metropolis is obtained,[109] Turpin turned for +an instant to reconnoitre his pursuers. Coates and Titus he utterly +disregarded; but Paterson was a more formidable foe, and he well knew +that he had to deal with a man of experience and resolution. It was +then, for the first time, that the thoughts of executing his +extraordinary ride to York first flashed across him; his bosom throbbed +high with rapture, and he involuntarily exclaimed aloud, as he raised +himself in the saddle, "By God! I will do it!" + +He took one last look at the great Babel that lay buried in a world of +trees beneath him; and as his quick eye ranged over the magnificent +prospect, lit up by that gorgeous sunset, he could not help thinking of +Tom King's last words. "Poor fellow!" thought Dick, "he said truly. He +will never see another sunset." Aroused by the approaching clatter of +his pursuers, Dick struck into a lane which lies on the right of the +road, now called Shoot-up-hill Lane, and set off at a good pace in the +direction of Hampstead. + +"Now," cried Paterson, "put your tits to it, my boys. We must not lose +sight of him for a second in these lanes." + +Accordingly, as Turpin was by no means desirous of inconveniencing his +mare in this early stage of the business, and as the ground was still +upon an ascent, the parties preserved their relative distances. + +At length, after various twistings and turnings in that deep and devious +lane; after scaring one or two farmers, and riding over a brood or two +of ducks; dipping into the verdant valley of West End, and ascending +another hill, Turpin burst upon the gorsy, sandy, and beautiful heath of +Hampstead. Shaping his course to the left, Dick then made for the lower +part of the heath, and skirted a path that leads towards North End, +passing the furze-crowned summit which is now crested by a clump of +lofty pines. + +It was here that the chase first assumed a character of interest. Being +open ground, the pursued and pursuers were in full view of each other; +and as Dick rode swiftly across the heath, with the shouting trio hard +at his heels, the scene had a very animated appearance. He crossed the +hill--the Hendon Road--passed Crackskull Common--and dashed along the +cross road to Highgate. + +Hitherto no advantage had been gained by the pursuers; they had not lost +ground, but still they had not gained an inch, and much spurring was +required to maintain their position. As they approached Highgate, Dick +slackened his pace, and the other party redoubled their efforts. To +avoid the town, Dick struck into a narrow path at the right, and rode +easily down the hill. + +His pursuers were now within a hundred yards, and shouted to him to +stand. Pointing to a gate which seemed to bar their further progress, +Dick unhesitatingly charged it, clearing it in beautiful style. Not so +with Coates's party; and the time they lost in unfastening the gate, +which none of them chose to leap, enabled Dick to put additional space +betwixt them. It did not, however, appear to be his intention altogether +to outstrip his pursuers: the chase seemed to give him excitement, which +he was willing to prolong as much as was consistent with his safety. +Scudding rapidly past Highgate, like a swift-sailing schooner, with +three lumbering Indiamen in her wake, Dick now took the lead along a +narrow lane that threads the fields in the direction of Hornsey. The +shouts of his followers had brought others to join them, and as he +neared Crouch End, traversing the lane which takes its name from Du-Val, +and in which a house frequented by that gayest of robbers stands, or +stood, "A highwayman! a highwayman!" rang in his ears, in a discordant +chorus of many voices. + +The whole neighborhood was alarmed by the cries, and by the tramp of +horses: the men of Hornsey rushed into the road to seize the fugitive, +and women held up their babes to catch a glimpse of the flying +cavalcade, which seemed to gain number and animation as it advanced. +Suddenly three horsemen appear in the road--they hear the uproar and the +din. "A highwayman! a highwayman!" cry the voices: "stop him, stop him!" +But it is no such easy matter. With a pistol in each hand, and his +bridle in his teeth, Turpin passed boldly on. His fierce looks--his +furious steed--the impetus with which he pressed forward, bore down all +before him. The horsemen gave way, and only served to swell the list of +his pursuers. + +"We have him now--we have him now!" cried Paterson, exultingly. "Shout +for your lives. The turnpike man will hear us. Shout again--again! The +fellow has heard it. The gate is shut. We have him. Ha, ha!" + +The old Hornsey toll-bar was a high gate, with chevaux-de-frise on the +upper rail. It may be so still. The gate was swung into its lock, and, +like a tiger in his lair, the prompt custodian of the turnpike trusts, +ensconced within his doorway, held himself in readiness to spring upon +the runaway. But Dick kept steadily on. He coolly calculated the height +of the gate; he looked to the right and to the left--nothing better +offered; he spoke a few words of encouragement to Bess, gently patted +her neck, then struck his spurs into her sides, and cleared the spikes +by an inch. Out rushed the amazed turnpike man, thus unmercifully +bilked, and was nearly trampled to death under the feet of Paterson's +horse. + +"Open the gate, fellow, and be expeditious," shouted the chief +constable. + +"Not I," said the man, sturdily, "unless I gets my dues. I've been done +once already. But strike me stupid if I'm done a second time." + +"Don't you perceive that's a highwayman? Don't you know that I'm chief +constable of Westminster?" said Paterson, showing his staff. "How dare +you oppose me in the discharge of my duty?" + +"That may be, or it may not be," said the man, doggedly. "But you don't +pass, unless I gets the blunt, and that's the long and short on it." + +Amidst a storm of oaths, Coates flung down a crown piece, and the gate +was thrown open. + +Turpin took advantage of this delay to breathe his mare; and, striking +into a by-lane at Duckett's Green, cantered easily along in the +direction of Tottenham. Little repose was allowed him. Yelling like a +pack of hounds in full cry, his pursuers were again at his heels. He had +now to run the gauntlet of the long straggling town of Tottenham, and +various were the devices of the populace to entrap him. The whole place +was up in arms, shouting, screaming, running, dancing, and hurling every +possible description of missile at the horse and her rider. Dick merrily +responded to their clamor as he flew past, and laughed at the brickbats +that were showered thick as hail, and quite as harmlessly, around him. + +A few more miles' hard riding tired the volunteers, and before the chase +reached Edmonton most of them were "_nowhere_." Here fresh relays were +gathered, and a strong field was again mustered. John Gilpin himself +could not have excited more astonishment amongst the good folks of +Edmonton, than did our highwayman as he galloped through their town. +Unlike the men of Tottenham, the mob received him with acclamations, +thinking, no doubt, that, like "the citizens of famous London town," he +rode for a wager. Presently, however, borne on the wings of the blast, +came the cries of "Turpin! Dick Turpin!" and the hurrahs were changed to +hootings; but such was the rate at which our highwayman rode, that no +serious opposition could be offered to him. + +A man in a donkey-cart, unable to get out of the way, drew himself up in +the middle of the road. Turpin treated him as he had done the _dub_ at +the _knapping jigger_, and cleared the driver and his little wain with +ease. This was a capital stroke, and well adapted to please the +multitude, who are ever taken with a brilliant action. "Hark away, +Dick!" resounded on all hands, while hisses were as liberally bestowed +upon his pursuers. + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_THE SHORT PIPE_ + + The Peons are capital horsemen, and several times we saw them, at a + gallop, throw the rein on the horse's neck, take from one pocket a + bag of loose tobacco, and, with a piece of paper, or a leaf of + Indian corn, make a cigar, and then take out a flint and steel and + light it. + + HEAD'S _Rough Notes_. + + +Away they fly past scattered cottages, swiftly and skimmingly, like +eagles on the wing, along the Enfield highway. All were well mounted, +and the horses, now thoroughly warmed, had got into their paces, and did +their work beautifully. None of Coates's party lost ground, but they +maintained it at the expense of their steeds, which were streaming like +water-carts, while Black Bess had scarcely turned a hair. + +Turpin, the reader already knows, was a crack rider; he was _the_ crack +rider of England of his time, and, perhaps, of any time. The craft and +mystery of jockeyship was not so well understood in the eighteenth as it +is in the nineteenth century; men treated their horses differently, and +few rode them as well as many ride now, when every youngster takes to +the field as naturally as if he had been bred a Guacho. Dick Turpin was +a glorious exception to the rule, and anticipated a later age. He rode +wonderfully lightly, yet sat his saddle to perfection, distributing the +weight so exquisitely that his horse scarcely felt his pressure; he +yielded to every movement made by the animal, and became, as it were, +part and parcel of itself; he took care Bess should be neither strained +nor wrung. Freely, and as lightly as a feather, was she borne along; +beautiful was it to see her action--to watch her style and temper of +covering the ground; and many a first-rate Meltonian might have got a +wrinkle from Turpin's seat and conduct. + +We have before stated that it was not Dick's object to _ride away_ from +his pursuers--he could have done that at any moment. He liked the fun of +the chase, and would have been sorry to put a period to his own +excitement. Confident in his mare, he just kept her at such speed as +should put his pursuers completely _to it_, without in the slightest +degree inconveniencing himself. Some judgment of the speed at which they +went may be formed, when we state that little better than an hour had +elapsed and nearly twenty miles had been ridden over. "Not bad +travelling that," methinks we hear the reader exclaim. + +"By the mother that bore me," said Titus, as they went along in this +slapping style--Titus, by-the-by, rode a big, Roman-nosed, powerful +horse, well adapted to his weight, but which required a plentiful +exercise both of leg and arm to call forth all his action, and keep his +rider alongside his companions--"by the mother that bore me," said he, +almost thumping the wind out of his flea-bitten Bucephalus with his +calves, after the Irish fashion, "if the fellow isn't lighting his pipe! +I saw the sparks fly on each side of him, and there he goes like a smoky +chimney on a frosty morning! See, he turns his impudent phiz, with the +pipe in his mouth! Are we to stand that, Mr. Coates?" + +"Wait awhile, sir--wait awhile," said Coates; "we'll smoke _him_ +by-and-by." + +Pæans have been sung in honor of the Peons of the Pampas by the +_Head_long Sir Francis; but what the gallant major extols so loudly in +the South American horsemen, viz., the lighting of a cigar when in mid +career, was accomplished with equal ease by our English highwayman a +hundred years ago, nor was it esteemed by him any extravagant feat +either. Flint, steel, and tinder were bestowed within Dick's ample +pouch, the short pipe was at hand, and within a few seconds there was a +stream of vapor exhaling from his lips, like the smoke from a steamboat +shooting down the river, and tracking his still rapid course through the +air. + +"I'll let 'em see what I think of 'em!" said Dick, coolly, as he turned +his head. + +It was now gray twilight. The mists of coming night were weaving a thin +curtain over the rich surrounding landscape. All the sounds and hum of +that delicious hour were heard, broken only by the regular clatter of +the horses' hoofs. Tired of shouting, the chasers now kept on their way +in deep silence; each man held his breath, and plunged his spurs, rowel +deep, into his horse; but the animals were already at the top of their +speed, and incapable of greater exertion. Paterson, who was a hard +rider, and perhaps a thought better mounted, kept the lead. The rest +followed as they might. + +Had it been undisturbed by the rush of the cavalcade, the scene would +have been still and soothing. Overhead a cloud of rooks were winging +their garrulous flight to the ancestral avenue of an ancient mansion to +the right; the bat was on the wing; the distant lowing of a herd of kine +saluted the ear at intervals; the blithe whistle of the rustic herdsman, +and the merry chime of waggon bells, rang pleasantly from afar. But +these cheerful sounds, which make the still twilight hour delightful, +were lost in the tramp of the horsemen, now three abreast. The hind fled +to the hedge for shelter, and the waggoner pricked up his ears, and +fancied he heard the distant rumbling of an earthquake. + +On rush the pack, whipping, spurring, tugging for very life. Again they +gave voice, in hopes the waggoner might succeed in stopping the +fugitive. But Dick was already by his side. "Harkee, my tulip," cried +he, taking the pipe from his mouth as he passed, "tell my friends behind +they will hear of me at York." + +"What did he say?" asked Paterson, coming up the next moment. + +"That you'll find him at York," replied the waggoner. + +"At York!" echoed Coates, in amaze. + +Turpin was now out of sight, and although our trio flogged with might +and main, they could never catch a glimpse of him until, within a short +distance of Ware, they beheld him at the door of a little public house, +standing with his bridle in his hand, coolly quaffing a tankard of ale. +No sooner were they in sight, than Dick vaulted into the saddle, and +rode off. + +"Devil seize you, sir! why didn't you stop him?" exclaimed Paterson, as +he rode up. "My horse is dead lame. I cannot go any further. Do you know +what a prize you have missed? Do you know who that was?" + +"No, sir, I don't," said the publican. "But I know he gave his mare more +ale than he took himself, and he has given me a guinea instead of a +shilling. He's a regular good 'un." + +"A good 'un!" said Paterson; "it was Turpin, the notorious highwayman. +We are in pursuit of him. Have you any horses? our cattle are all +blown." + +"You'll find the post-house in the town, gentlemen. I'm sorry I can't +accommodate you. But I keeps no stabling. I wish you a very good +evening, sir." Saying which, the publican retreated to his domicile. + +"That's a flash crib, I'll be bound," said Paterson. "I'll chalk you +down, my friend, you may rely upon it. Thus far we're done, Mr. Coates. +But curse me if I give it in. I'll follow him to the world's end first." + +"Right, sir--right," said the attorney. "A very proper spirit, Mr. +Constable. You would be guilty of neglecting your duty were you to act +otherwise. You must recollect my father, Mr. Paterson--Christopher, or +Kit Coates; a name as well known at the Old Bailey as Jonathan Wild's. +You recollect him--eh?" + +"Perfectly well, sir," replied the chief constable. + +"The greatest thief-taker, though I say it," continued Coates, "on +record. I inherit all his zeal--all his ardor. Come along, sir. We shall +have a fine moon in an hour--bright as day. To the post-house! to the +post-house!" + +Accordingly to the post-house they went; and, with as little delay as +circumstances admitted, fresh hacks being procured, accompanied by a +postilion, the party again pursued their onward course, encouraged to +believe they were still in the right scent. + +Night had now spread her mantle over the earth; still it was not wholly +dark. A few stars were twinkling in the deep, cloudless heavens, and a +pearly radiance in the eastern horizon heralded the rising of the orb of +night. A gentle breeze was stirring; the dews of evening had already +fallen; and the air felt bland and dry. It was just the night one would +have chosen for a ride, if one ever rode by choice at such an hour; and +to Turpin, whose chief excursions were conducted by night, it appeared +little less than heavenly. + +Full of ardor and excitement, determined to execute what he had mentally +undertaken, Turpin held on his solitary course. Everything was favorable +to his project; the roads were in admirable condition, his mare was in +like order; she was inured to hard work, had rested sufficiently in town +to recover from the fatigue of her recent journey, and had never been in +more perfect training. "She has now got her wind in her," said Dick; +"I'll see what she can do--hark away, lass--hark away! I wish they could +see her now," added he, as he felt her almost fly away with him. + +Encouraged by her master's voice and hand, Black Bess started forward at +a pace which few horses could have equalled, and scarcely any have +sustained so long. Even Dick, accustomed as he was to her magnificent +action, felt electrified at the speed with which he was borne along. +"Bravo! bravo!" shouted he, "hark away, Bess!" + +The deep and solemn woods through which they were rushing rang with his +shouts, and the sharp rattle of Bess's hoofs; and thus he held his way, +while, in the words of the ballad, + + Fled past, on right and left, how fast, + Each forest, grove, and bower; + On right and left, fled past, how fast, + Each city, town, and tower. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI_ + +_BLACK BESS_ + + _Dauphin._ I will not change my horse with any that treads but on + four pasterns. _Ca, ha!_ He bounds from the earth as if his entrails + were hairs; _le cheval volant_, the Pegasus _qui a les narines de + feu_! When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; + the earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is + more musical than the pipe of Hermes. + + SHAKESPEARE: _Henry V., Act III._ + + +Black Bess being undoubtedly the heroine of the Fourth Book of this +Romance, we may, perhaps, be pardoned for expatiating a little in this +place upon her birth, parentage, breeding, appearance, and attractions. +And first as to her pedigree; for in the horse, unlike the human +species, nature has strongly impressed the noble or ignoble caste. He is +the real aristocrat, and the pure blood that flows in the veins of the +gallant steed will infallibly be transmitted, if his mate be suitable, +throughout all his line. Bess was no _cock-tail_. She was thorough-bred; +she boasted blood in every bright and branching vein: + + If blood can give nobility, + A noble steed was she; + Her sire was blood, and blood her dam, + And all her pedigree. + +As to her pedigree. Her sire was a desert Arab, renowned in his day, and +brought to this country by a wealthy traveller; her dam was an English +racer, coal-black as her child. Bess united all the fire and gentleness, +the strength and hardihood, the abstinence and endurance of fatigue of +the one, with the spirit and extraordinary fleetness of the other. How +Turpin became possessed of her is of little consequence. We never heard +that he paid a heavy price for her; though we doubt if any sum would +have induced him to part with her. In color, she was perfectly black, +with a skin smooth on the surface as polished jet; not a single white +hair could be detected in her satin coat. In make she was magnificent. +Every point was perfect, beautiful, compact; modelled, in little, for +strength and speed. Arched was her neck, as that of the swan; clean and +fine were her lower limbs, as those of the gazelle; round and sound as a +drum was her carcase, and as broad as a cloth-yard shaft her width of +chest. Hers were the "_pulchræ clunes, breve caput, arduaque cervix_," +of the Roman bard. There was no redundancy of flesh, 'tis true; her +flanks might, to please some tastes, have been rounder, and her +shoulders fuller; but look at the nerve and sinew, palpable through the +veined limbs! She was built more for strength than beauty, and yet she +_was_ beautiful. Look at that elegant little head; those thin, tapering +ears, closely placed together; that broad, snorting nostril, which seems +to snuff the gale with disdain; that eye, glowing and large as the +diamond of Giamschid! Is she not beautiful? Behold her paces! how +gracefully she moves! She is off!--no eagle on the wing could skim the +air more swiftly. Is she not superb? As to her temper, the lamb is not +more gentle. A child might guide her. + +But hark back to Dick Turpin. We left him rattling along in superb +style, and in the highest possible glee. He could not, in fact, be +otherwise than exhilarated; nothing being so wildly intoxicating as a +mad gallop. We seem to start out of ourselves--to be endued, for the +time, with new energies. Our thoughts take wings rapid as our steed. We +feel as if his fleetness and boundless impulses were for the moment our +own. We laugh; we exult; we shout for very joy. We cry out with +Mephistopheles, but in anything but a sardonic mood, "What I enjoy with +spirit, is it the less my own on that account? If I can pay for six +horses, are not their powers mine! I drive along, and am a proper man, +as if I had four-and-twenty legs!" These were Turpin's sentiments +precisely. Give him four legs and a wide plain, and he needed no +Mephistopheles to bid him ride to perdition as fast as his nag could +carry him. Away, away!--the road is level, the path is clear. Press on, +thou gallant steed, no obstacle is in thy way!--and, lo! the moon breaks +forth! Her silvery light is thrown over the woody landscape. Dark +shadows are cast athwart the road, and the flying figures of thy rider +and thyself are traced, like giant phantoms, in the dust! + +Away, away! our breath is gone in keeping up with this tremendous run. +Yet Dick Turpin has not lost his wind, for we hear his cheering +cry--hark! he sings. The reader will bear in mind that Oliver means the +moon--to "whiddle" is to blab. + + OLIVER WHIDDLES! + + Oliver whiddles--the tattler old! + Telling what best had been left untold. + Oliver ne'er was a friend of mine; + All glims I hate that so brightly shine. + Give me a night black as hell, and then + See what I'll show to you, my merry men. + + Oliver whiddles!--who cares--who cares, + If down upon us he peers and stares? + Mind him who will, with his great white face, + Boldly _I'll_ ride by his glim to the chase; + Give him a Rowland, and loudly as ever + Shout, as I show myself, "Stand and deliver!" + +"Egad," soliloquized Dick, as he concluded his song, looking up at the +moon. "Old Noll's no bad fellow, either. I wouldn't be without his white +face to-night for a trifle. He's as good as a lamp to guide one, and let +Bess only hold on as she goes now, and I'll do it with ease. Softly, +wench, softly--dost not see it's a hill we're rising. The devil's in the +mare, she cares for nothing." And as they ascended the hill, Dick's +voice once more awoke the echoes of night. + + + WILL DAVIES AND DICK TURPIN + + Hodiè mihi, cràs tibi.--SAINT AUGUSTIN. + + One night, when mounted on my mare, + To Bagshot Heath I did repair, + And saw Will Davies hanging there, + Upon the gibbet bleak and bare, + _With a rustified, fustified, mustified air!_ + + Within his chains bold Will looked blue, + Gone were his sword and snappers too, + Which served their master well and true; + Says I, "Will Davies, how are you? + _With your rustified, fustified, mustified air!_" + + Says he, "Dick Turpin, here I be, + Upon the gibbet, as you see; + I take the matter easily; + _You'll_ have your turn as well as me, + _With your whistle-me, pistol-me, cut-my-throat air!_" + + Says I, "That's very true, my lad; + Meantime, with pistol and with prad, + I'm quite contented as I am, + And heed the gibbet not a d--n! + _With its rustified, fustified, mustified air!_" + +"Poor Will Davies!" sighed Dick; "Bagshot ought never to forget +him."[110] + + For never more shall Bagshot see + A highwayman of such degree, + Appearance, and gentility, + As Will, who hangs upon the tree, + _With his rustified, fustified, mustified air!_ + +"Well," mused Turpin, "I suppose one day it will be with me like all the +rest of 'em, and that I shall dance a long lavolta to the music of the +four whistling winds, as my betters have done before me; but I trust, +whenever the chanter-culls and last-speech scribblers get hold of me, +they'll at least put no cursed nonsense into my mouth, but make me +speak, as I have ever felt, like a man who never either feared death, or +turned his back upon his friend. In the mean time I'll give them +something to talk about. This ride of mine shall ring in their ears long +after I'm done for--put to bed with a mattock, and tucked up with a +spade. + + And when I am gone, boys, each huntsman shall say, + None rode like Dick Turpin, so far in a day. + +And thou, too, brave Bess!--thy name shall be linked with mine, and +we'll go down to posterity together; and what," added he, despondingly, +"if it should be too much for thee? what if----but no matter! Better die +now, while I am with thee, than fall into the knacker's hands. Better +die with all thy honors upon thy head, than drag out thy old age at the +sand-cart. Hark forward, lass--hark forward!" + +By what peculiar instinct is it that this noble animal, the horse, will +at once perceive the slightest change in his rider's physical +temperament, and allow himself so to be influenced by it, that, +according as his master's spirits fluctuate, will his own energies rise +and fall, wavering + + From walk to trot, from canter to full speed? + +How is it, we ask of those more intimately acquainted with the +metaphysics of the Houyhnhnm than we pretend to be? Do the saddle or +the rein convey, like metallic tractors, vibrations of the spirit +betwixt the two? We know not, but this much is certain, that no servant +partakes so much of the character of his master as the horse. The steed +we are wont to ride becomes a portion of ourselves. He thinks and feels +with us. As we are lively, he is sprightly; as we are depressed, his +courage droops. In proof of this, let the reader see what horses some +men make--_make_, we say, because in such hands their character is +wholly altered. Partaking, in a measure, of the courage and the firmness +of the hand that guides them, and of the resolution of the frame that +sways them--what their rider wills, they do, or strive to do. When that +governing power is relaxed, their energies are relaxed likewise; and +their fine sensibilities supply them with an instant knowledge of the +disposition and capacity of the rider. A gift of the gods is the gallant +steed, which, like any other faculty we possess, to use or to abuse--to +command or to neglect--rests with ourselves; he is the best general test +of our own self-government. + +Black Bess's action amply verified what we have just asserted; for +during Turpin's momentary despondency, her pace was perceptibly +diminished and her force retarded; but as he revived, she rallied +instantly, and, seized apparently with a kindred enthusiasm, snorted +joyously as she recovered her speed. Now was it that the child of the +desert showed herself the undoubted offspring of the hardy loins from +whence she sprung. Full fifty miles had she sped, yet she showed no +symptoms of distress. If possible, she appeared fresher than when she +started. She had breathed; her limbs were suppler; her action was freer, +easier, lighter. Her sire, who, upon his trackless wilds, could have +outstripped the pestilent simoom; and with throat unslaked, and hunger +unappeased, could thrice have seen the scorching sun go down, had not +greater powers of endurance. His vigor was her heritage. Her dam, who +upon the velvet sod was of almost unapproachable swiftness, and who had +often brought her owner golden assurances of her worth, could scarce +have kept pace with her, and would have sunk under a third of her +fatigue. But Bess was a paragon. We ne'er shall look upon her like +again, unless we can prevail upon some Bedouin chief to present us with +a brood mare, and then the racing world shall see what a breed we will +introduce into this country. Eclipse, Childers, or Hambletonian, shall +be nothing to our colts, and even the railroad slow travelling, compared +with the speed of our new nags! + +But to return to Bess, or rather to go along with her, for there is no +halting now; we are going at the rate of twenty knots an hour--sailing +before the wind; and the reader must either keep pace with us, or drop +astern. Bess is now in her speed, and Dick happy. Happy! he is +enraptured--maddened--furious--intoxicated as with wine. Pshaw! wine +could never throw him into such a burning delirium. Its choicest juices +have no inspiration like this. Its fumes are slow and heady. This is +ethereal, transporting. His blood spins through his veins; winds round +his heart; mounts to his brain. Away! away! He is wild with joy. Hall, +cot, tree, tower, glade, mead, waste, or woodland, are seen, passed, +left behind, and vanish as in a dream. Motion is scarcely +perceptible--it is impetus! volition! The horse and her rider are driven +forward, as it were, by self-accelerated speed. A hamlet is visible in +the moonlight. It is scarcely discovered ere the flints sparkle beneath +the mare's hoofs. A moment's clatter upon the stones, and it is left +behind. Again it is the silent, smiling country. Now they are buried in +the darkness of woods; now sweeping along on the wide plain; now +clearing the unopened toll-bar; now trampling over the hollow-sounding +bridge, their shadows momently reflected in the placid mirror of the +stream; now scaling the hill-side a thought more slowly; now plunging, +as the horses of Phœbus into the ocean, down its precipitous sides. + +The limits of two shires are already past. They are within the confines +of a third. They have entered the merry county of Huntingdon; they have +surmounted the gentle hill that slips into Godmanchester. They are by +the banks of the rapid Ouse. The bridge is past; and as Turpin rode +through the deserted streets of Huntingdon, he heard the eleventh hour +given from the iron tongue of St. Mary's spire. In four hours--it was +about seven when he started--Dick had accomplished full sixty miles! + +A few reeling topers in the streets saw the horseman flit past, and one +or two windows were thrown open; but Peeping Tom of Coventry would have +had small chance of beholding the unveiled beauties of Queen Godiva had +she ridden at the rate of Dick Turpin. He was gone, like a meteor, +almost as soon as he appeared. + +Huntingdon is left behind, and he is once more surrounded by dew-gemmed +hedges and silent slumbering trees. Broad meadows, or pasture land, with +drowsy cattle, or low bleating sheep, lie on either side. But what to +Turpin, at that moment, is nature, animate or inanimate? He thinks only +of his mare--his future fame. None are by to see him ride; no +stimulating plaudits ring in his ears; no thousand hands are clapping; +no thousand voices huzzaing; no handkerchiefs are waved; no necks +strained; no bright eyes rain influence upon him; no eagle orbs watch +his motions; no bells are rung; no cup awaits his achievement; no +sweepstakes--no plate. But his will be renown--everlasting renown; his +will be fame which will not die with him--which will keep his +reputation, albeit a tarnished one, still in the mouths of men. He wants +all these adventitious excitements, but he has that within which is a +greater excitement than all these. He is conscious that he is doing a +deed to live by. If not riding for _life_, he is riding for +_immortality_; and as the hero may perchance feel--for even a highwayman +may feel like a hero,--when he willingly throws away his existence in +the hope of earning a glorious name, Turpin cared not what might befall +himself, so he could proudly signalize himself as the first of his land, + + _And witch the world with noble horsemanship!_ + +What need had he of spectators? The eye of posterity was upon him; he +felt the influence of that Argus glance which has made many a poor wight +spur on his Pegasus with not half so good a chance of reaching the goal +as Dick Turpin. Multitudes, yet unborn, he knew would hear and laud his +deeds. He trembled with excitement, and Bess trembled under him. But the +emotion was transient. On, on they fly! The torrent leaping from the +crag--the bolt from the bow--the air-cleaving eagle--thoughts themselves +are scarce more winged in their flight! + + + + +_CHAPTER VII_ + +_THE YORK STAGE_ + + YORK, FOUR DAYS!--_Stage Coach begins on Friday, the 18th of April, + 1706._ All that are desirous to pass from London to York, or from + York to London, or any other place on that road, let them repair to + the Black Swan, in Holborn, in London, or to the Black Swan, in + Coney Street, in York. At both which places they may be received in + a _Stage Coach_, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, which performs + the journey in four days--if God permits!--and sets forth at five in + the morning. And returns from York to Stamford in two days, and from + Stamford, by Huntingdon, in two days more. And the like stages in + their return. Allowing each passenger fourteen pounds' weight, and + all above, three pence per pound. Performed by Benjamin Kingman, + Henry Harrison, and Waller Baynes.--_Placard, preserved in the + coffee-room, of the Black Swan Inn at York._ + + +The night had hitherto been balmy and beautiful, with a bright array of +stars, and a golden harvest moon, which seemed to diffuse even warmth +with its radiance; but now Turpin was approaching the region of fog and +fen, and he began to feel the influence of that dank atmosphere. The +intersecting dykes, yawners, gullies, or whatever they are called, began +to send forth their steaming vapors, and chilled the soft and wholesome +air, obscuring the void, and in some instances, as it were, choking up +the road itself with vapor. But fog or fen was the same to Bess; her +hoofs rattled merrily along the road, and she burst from a cloud, like +Eöus at the break of dawn. + +It chanced, as he issued from a fog of this kind, that Turpin burst upon +the York stage coach. It was no uncommon thing for the coach to be +stopped; and so furious was the career of our highwayman, that the man +involuntarily drew up his horses. Turpin had also to draw in the rein, a +task of no little difficulty, as charging a huge, lumbering coach, with +its full complement of passengers, was more than even Bess could +accomplish. The moon shone brightly on Turpin and his mare. He was +unmasked, and his features were distinctly visible. An exclamation was +uttered by a gentleman on the box, who, it appeared, instantly +recognized him. + +"Pull up--draw your horses across the road!" cried the gentleman; +"that's Dick Turpin, the highwayman. His capture would be worth three +hundred pounds to you," added he, addressing the coachman, "and is of +equal importance to me. Stand!" shouted he, presenting a cocked pistol. + +This resolution of the gentleman was not apparently agreeable, either to +the coachman or the majority of the passengers--the name of Turpin +acting like magic upon them. One man jumped off behind, and was with +difficulty afterwards recovered, having tumbled into a deep ditch at the +roadside. An old gentleman with a cotton nightcap, who had popped out +his head to swear at the coachman, drew it suddenly back. A faint scream +in a female key issued from within, and there was a considerable hubbub +on the roof. Amongst other ominous sounds, the guard was heard to click +his long horse-pistols. "Stop the York four-day stage!" said he, forcing +his smoky voice through a world of throat-embracing shawl; "the fastest +coach in the kingdom: vos ever such atrocity heard of? I say, Joe, keep +them ere leaders steady; we shall all be in the ditch. Don't you see +where the hind wheels are? Who--whoop, I say." + +The gentleman on the box now discharged his pistol, and the confusion +within was redoubled. The white nightcap was popped out like a rabbit's +head, and as quickly popped back on hearing the highwayman's voice. +Owing to the plunging of the horses, the gentleman had missed his aim. + +Prepared for such emergencies as the present, and seldom at any time +taken aback, Dick received the fire without flinching. He then lashed +the horses out of his course, and rode up, pistol in hand, to the +gentleman who had fired. + +"Major Mowbray," said he, in a stern tone, "I know you. I meant not +either to assault you or these gentlemen. Yet you have attempted my +life, sir, a second time. But you are now in my power, and by hell! if +you do not answer the questions I put to you, nothing earthly shall save +you." + +"If you ask aught I may not answer, fire!" said the major; "I will never +ask life from such as you." + +"Have you seen aught of Sir Luke Rookwood?" asked Dick. + +"The villain you mean is not yet secured," replied the major, "but we +have traces of him. 'Tis with a view of procuring more efficient +assistance that I ride to town." + +"They have not met then, since?" said Dick, carelessly. + +"Met! whom do you mean?" + +"Your sister and Sir Luke," said Dick. + +"My sister meet him!" cried the major, angrily--"think you he dares show +himself at Rookwood?" + +"Ho! ho!" laughed Dick--"she _is_ at Rookwood, then? A thousand thanks, +major. Good night to you, gentlemen." + +"Take that with you, and remember the guard," cried the fellow, who, +unable to take aim from where he sat, had crept along the coach roof, +and discharged thence one of his large horse-pistols at what he took to +be the highwayman's head, but which, luckily for Dick, was his hat, +which he had raised to salute the passengers. + +"Remember you," said Dick, coolly replacing his perforated beaver on his +brow; "you may rely upon it, my fine fellow, I'll not forget you the +next time we meet." + +And off he went like the breath of the whirlwind. + + + + +_CHAPTER VIII_ + +_ROADSIDE INN_ + + _Moor._ Take my horse, and dash a bottle of wine over him. 'Twas hot + work. + + SCHILLER: _The Robbers_. + + +We will now make inquiries after Mr. Coates and his party, of whom both +we and Dick Turpin have for some time lost sight. With unabated ardor +the vindictive man of law and his myrmidons pressed forward. A tacit +compact seemed to have been entered into between the highwayman and his +pursuers, that he was to fly while they were to follow. Like +bloodhounds, they kept steadily upon his trail; nor were they so far +behind as Dick imagined. At each post-house they passed they obtained +fresh horses, and, while these were saddling, a postboy was despatched +_en courrier_ to order relays at the next station. In this manner they +proceeded after the first stoppage without interruption. Horses were in +waiting for them, as they, "bloody with spurring, fiery hot with haste," +and their jaded hacks arrived. Turpin had been heard or seen in all +quarters. Turnpike-men, waggoners, carters, trampers, all had seen him. +Besides, strange as it may sound, they placed some faith in his word. +York they believed would be his destination. + +At length the coach which Dick had encountered hove in sight. There was +another stoppage and another hubbub. The old gentleman's nightcap was +again manifested, and suffered a sudden occultation, as upon the former +occasion. The postboy, who was in advance, had halted, and given up his +horse to Major Mowbray, who exchanged his seat on the box for one on the +saddle, deeming it more expedient, after his interview with Turpin, to +return to Rookwood, rather than to proceed to town. The postboy was +placed behind Coates, as being the lightest weight; and, thus +reinforced, the party pushed forward as rapidly as heretofore. + +Eighty and odd miles had now been traversed--the boundary of another +county, Northampton, passed; yet no rest nor respite had Dick Turpin or +his unflinching mare enjoyed. But here he deemed it fitting to make a +brief halt. + +Bordering the beautiful domains of Burleigh House stood a little retired +hostelry of some antiquity, which bore the great Lord Treasurer's arms. +With this house Dick was not altogether unacquainted. The lad who acted +as ostler was known to him. It was now midnight, but a bright and +beaming night. To the door of the stable then did he ride, and knocked +in a peculiar manner. Reconnoitering Dick through a broken pane of glass +in the lintel, and apparently satisfied with his scrutiny, the lad +thrust forth a head of hair as full of straw as Mad Tom's is represented +to be upon the stage. A chuckle of welcome followed his sleepy +salutation. "Glad to see you, Captain Turpin," said he; "can I do +anything for you?" + +"Get me a couple of bottles of brandy and a beefsteak," said Dick. + +"As to the brandy, you can have that in a jiffy--but the steak, Lord +love you, the old ooman won't stand it at this time; but there's a cold +round, mayhap a slice of that might do--or a knuckle of ham?" + +"A pest on your knuckles, Ralph," cried Dick; "have you any raw meat in +the house?" + +"Raw meat!" echoed Ralph, in surprise. "Oh, yes, there's a rare rump of +beef. You can have a cut off that, if you like." + +"That's the thing I want," said Dick, ungirthing his mare. "Give me the +scraper. There, I can get a whisp of straw from your head. Now run and +get the brandy. Better bring three bottles. Uncork 'em, and let me have +half a pail of water to mix with the spirit." + +"A pail full of brandy and water to wash down a raw steak! My eyes!" +exclaimed Ralph, opening wide his sleepy peepers; adding, as he went +about the execution of his task, "I always thought them Rum-padders, as +they call themselves, rum fellows, but now I'm sartin sure on it." + +The most sedulous groom could not have bestowed more attention upon the +horse of his heart than Dick Turpin now paid to his mare. He scraped, +chafed, and dried her, sounded each muscle, traced each sinew, pulled +her ears, examined the state of her feet, and, ascertaining that her +"withers were un-wrung," finally washed her from head to foot in the +diluted spirit, not, however, before he had conveyed a thimbleful of the +liquid to his own parched throat, and replenished what Falstaff calls a +"pocket-pistol," which he had about him. While Ralph was engaged in +rubbing her down after her bath, Dick occupied himself, not in dressing +the raw steak in the manner the stable-boy had anticipated, but in +rolling it round the bit of his bridle. + +"She will now go as long as there's breath in her body," said he, +putting the flesh-covered iron within her mouth. + +The saddle being once more replaced, after champing a moment or two at +the bit, Bess began to snort and paw the earth, as if impatient of +delay; and, acquainted as he was with her indomitable spirit and power, +her condition was a surprise even to Dick himself. Her vigor seemed +inexhaustible, her vivacity was not a whit diminished, but, as she was +led into the open space, her step became as light and free as when she +started on her ride, and her sense of sound as quick as ever. Suddenly +she pricked her ears, and uttered a low neigh. A dull tramp was +audible. + +"Ha!" exclaimed Dick, springing into his saddle; "they come." + +"Who come, captain?" asked Ralph. + +"The road takes a turn here, don't it?" asked Dick--"sweeps round to the +right by the plantations in the hollow?" + +"Ay, ay, captain," answered Ralph; "it's plain you knows the ground." + +"What lies behind yon shed?" + +"A stiff fence, captain--a reg'lar rasper. Beyond that a hill-side steep +as a house, no oss as was ever shoed can go down it." + +"Indeed!" laughed Dick. + +A loud halloo from Major Mowbray, who seemed advancing upon the wings of +the wind, told Dick that he was discovered. The major was a superb +horseman, and took the lead of his party. Striking his spurs deeply into +his horse, and giving him bridle enough, the major seemed to shoot +forward like a shell through the air. The Burleigh Arms retired some +hundred yards from the road, the space in front being occupied by a neat +garden, with low, clipped edges. No tall timber intervened between Dick +and his pursuers, so that the motions of both parties were visible to +each other. Dick saw in an instant that if he now started he should come +into collision with the major exactly at the angle of the road, and he +was by no means desirous of hazarding such a rencontre. He looked +wistfully back at the double fence. + +"Come into the stable. Quick, captain, quick!" exclaimed Ralph. + +"The stable!" echoed Dick, hesitating. + +"Ay, the stable; it's your only chance. Don't you see he's turning the +corner, and they are all coming? Quick, sir, quick!" + +Dick, lowering his head, rode into the tenement, the door of which was +unceremoniously slapped in the major's face, and bolted on the other +side. + +"Villain!" cried Major Mowbray, thundering at the door, "come forth! You +are now fairly trapped at last--caught like the woodcock in your own +springe. We have you. Open the door, I say, and save us the trouble of +forcing it. You cannot escape us. We will burn the building down but we +will have you." + +"What dun you want, measter?" cried Ralph, from the lintel, whence he +reconnoitered the major, and kept the door fast. "You're clean mista'en. +There be none here." + +"We'll soon see that," said Paterson, who had now arrived; and, leaping +from his horse, the chief constable took a short run to give himself +impetus, and with his foot burst open the door. This being accomplished, +in dashed the major and Paterson, but the stable was vacant. A door was +open at the back; they rushed to it. The sharply sloping sides of a hill +slipped abruptly downwards, within a yard of the door. It was a perilous +descent to the horseman, yet the print of a horse's heels were visible +in the dislodged turf and scattered soil. + +"Confusion!" cried the major, "he has escaped us." + +"He is yonder," said Paterson, pointing out Turpin moving swiftly +through the steaming meadow. "See, he makes again for the road--he +clears the fence. A regular throw he has given us, by the Lord!" + +"Nobly done, by Heaven!" cried the major. "With all his faults, I honor +the fellow's courage and admire his prowess. He's already ridden +to-night as I believe never man rode before. I would not have ventured +to slide down that wall, for it's nothing else, with the enemy at my +heels. What say you, gentlemen, have you had enough? Shall we let him +go, or----?" + +"As far as chase goes, I don't care if we bring the matter to a +conclusion," said Titus. "I don't think, as it is, that I shall have a +sate to sit on this week to come. I've lost leather most confoundedly." + +"What says Mr. Coates?" asked Paterson. "I look to him." + +"Then mount, and off," cried Coates. "Public duty requires that we +should take him." + +"And private pique," returned the major. "No matter! The end is the +same. Justice shall be satisfied. To your steeds, my merry men all. +Hark, and away." + +Once more upon the move, Titus forgot his distress, and addressed +himself to the attorney, by whose side he rode. + +"What place is that we're coming to?" asked he, pointing to a cluster of +moonlit spires belonging to a town they were rapidly approaching. + +"Stamford," replied Coates. + +"Stamford!" exclaimed Titus; "by the powers! then we've ridden a matter +of ninety miles. Why, the great deeds of Redmond O'Hanlon were nothing +to this! I'll remember it to my dying day, and with reason," added he, +uneasily shifting his position on the saddle. + + + + +_CHAPTER IX_ + +_EXCITEMENT_ + + How fled what moonshine faintly showed! + How fled what darkness hid! + How fled the earth beneath their feet, + The heaven above their head. + + _William and Helen._ + + +Dick Turpin, meanwhile, held bravely on his course. Bess was neither +strained by her gliding passage down the slippery hill-side nor shaken +by _larking_ the fence in the meadow. As Dick said, "It took a devilish +deal to take it out of her." On regaining the high road she resumed her +old pace, and once more they were distancing Time's swift chariot in +its whirling passage o'er the earth. Stamford, and the tongue of +Lincoln's fenny shire, upon which it is situated, were passed almost in +a breath. Rutland is won and passed, and Lincolnshire once more entered. +The road now verged within a bowshot of that sporting Athens--Corinth, +perhaps, we should say--Melton Mowbray. Melton was then unknown to fame, +but, as if inspired by that _furor venaticus_ which now inspires all who +come within twenty miles of this Charybdis of the chase, Bess here _let +out_ in a style with which it would have puzzled the best Leicestershire +squire's best prad to have kept pace. The spirit she imbibed through the +pores of her skin, and the juices of the meat she had champed, seemed to +have communicated preternatural excitement to her. Her pace was +absolutely terrific. Her eyeballs were dilated, and glowed like flaming +carbuncles; while her widely-distended nostril seemed, in the cold +moonshine, to snort forth smoke, as from a hidden fire. Fain would +Turpin have controlled her; but, without bringing into play all his +tremendous nerve, no check could be given her headlong course, and for +once, and the only time in her submissive career, Bess resolved to have +her own way--and she had it. Like a sensible fellow, Dick conceded the +point. There was something even of conjugal philosophy in his +self-communion upon the occasion. "E'en let her take her own way and be +hanged to her, for an obstinate, self-willed jade as she is," said he: +"now her back is up there'll be no stopping her, I'm sure: she rattles +away like a woman's tongue, and when that once begins, we all know what +chance the curb has. Best to let her have it out, or rather to lend her +a lift. 'Twill be over the sooner. Tantivy, lass! tantivy! I know which +of us will tire first." + +We have before said that the vehement excitement of continued swift +riding produces a paroxysm in the sensorium amounting to delirium. +Dick's blood was again on fire. He was first giddy, as after a deep +draught of kindling spirit; this passed off, but the spirit was still +in his veins--the _estro_ was working in his brain. All his ardor, his +eagerness, his fury, returned. He rode like one insane, and his courser +partook of his frenzy. She bounded; she leaped; she tore up the ground +beneath her; while Dick gave vent to his exultation in one wild, +prolonged halloo. More than half his race is run. He has triumphed over +every difficulty. He will have no further occasion to halt. Bess carries +her forage along with her. The course is straightforward--success seems +certain--the goal already reached--the path of glory won. Another wild +halloo, to which the echoing woods reply, and away! + +Away! away! thou matchless steed! yet brace fast thy sinews--hold, hold +thy breath, for, alas! the goal is not yet attained! + + But forward! forward, on they go, + High snorts the straining steed, + Thick pants the rider's laboring breath, + As headlong on they speed! + + + + +_CHAPTER X_ + +_THE GIBBET_ + + See there, see there, what yonder swings + And creaks 'mid whistling rain, + Gibbet and steel--the accursed wheel-- + A murderer in his chain. + + _William and Helen._ + + +As the eddying currents sweep over its plains in howling, bleak +December, the horse and her rider passed over what remained of +Lincolnshire. Grantham is gone, and they are now more slowly looking up +the ascent of Gonerby Hill, a path well known to Turpin; where often, in +bygone nights, many a purse had changed its owner. With that feeling of +independence and exhilaration which every one feels, we believe, on +having climbed the hill-side, Turpin turned to gaze around. There was +triumph in his eye. But the triumph was checked as his glance fell upon +a gibbet near him to the right, on the round point of hill which is a +landmark to the wide vale of Belvoir. Pressed as he was for time, Dick +immediately struck out of the road, and approached the spot where it +stood. Two scarecrow objects, covered with rags and rusty links of +chains, depended from the tree. A night crow screaming around the +carcases added to the hideous effect of the scene. Nothing but the +living highwayman and his skeleton brethren was visible upon the +solitary spot. Around him was the lonesome waste of hill, o'erlooking +the moonlit valley: beneath his feet, a patch of bare and +lightning-blasted sod: above, the wan, declining moon and skies, flaked +with ghostly clouds; before him, the bleached bodies of the murderers, +for such they were. + +"Will this be my lot, I marvel?" said Dick, looking upwards, with an +involuntary shudder. + +"Ay, marry will it," rejoined a crouching figure, suddenly springing +from beside a tuft of briars that skirted the blasted ground. + +Dick started in his saddle, while Bess reared and plunged at the sight +of this unexpected apparition. + +"What, ho! thou devil's dam, Barbara, is it thou?" exclaimed Dick, +reassured upon discovering it was the gipsy queen, and no spectre whom +he beheld. "Stand still, Bess--stand, lass. What dost thou here, mother +of darkness? Art gathering mandrakes for thy poisonous messes, or +pilfering flesh from the dead? Meddle not with their bones, or I will +drive thee hence. What dost thou here, I say, old dam of the gibbet?" + +"I came to die here," replied Barbara, in a feeble tone; and, throwing +back her hood, she displayed features well-nigh as ghastly as those of +the skeletons above her. + +"Indeed," replied Dick. "You've made choice of a pleasant spot, it must +be owned. But you'll not die yet?" + +"Do you know whose bodies these are?" asked Barbara, pointing upwards. + +"Two of your race," replied Dick; "right brethren of the blade." + +"Two of my sons," returned Barbara; "my twin children. I am come to lay +my bones beneath their bones--my sepulchre shall be their sepulchre; my +body shall feed the fowls of the air as theirs have fed them. And if +ghosts can walk, we'll scour this heath together. I tell you what, Dick +Turpin," said the hag, drawing as near to the highwayman as Bess would +permit her; "dead men walk and ride--ay, _ride_!--there's a comfort for +you. I've seen these do it. I have seen them fling off their chains, and +dance--ay, dance with me--with their mother. No revels like dead men's +revels, Dick. I shall soon join 'em." + +"You will not lay violent hands upon yourself, mother?" said Dick, with +difficulty mastering his terror. + +"No," replied Barbara, in an altered tone. "But I will let nature do her +task. Would she could do it more quickly. Such a life as mine won't go +out without a long struggle. What have I to live for now? All are +gone--she and her child! But what is this to you? You have no child; and +if you had, you could not feel like a father. No matter--I rave. Listen +to me. I have crawled hither to die. 'Tis five days since I beheld you, +and during that time food has not passed these lips, nor aught of +moisture, save Heaven's dew, cooled this parched throat, nor shall they +to the last. That time cannot be far off; and now can you not guess +_how_ I mean to die? Begone and leave me; your presence troubles me. I +would breathe my last breath alone, with none to witness the parting +pang." + +"I will not trouble you longer, mother," said Dick, turning his mare; +"nor will I ask your blessing." + +"My blessing!" scornfully ejaculated Barbara. "You shall have it if you +will, but you will find it a curse. Stay! a thought strikes me. Whither +are you going?" + +"To seek Sir Luke Rookwood," replied Dick. "Know you aught of him?" + +"Sir Luke Rookwood! You seek him, and would find him?" screamed Barbara. + +"I would," said Dick. + +"And you _will_ find him," said Barbara; "and that ere long. I shall +ne'er again behold him. Would I could. I have a message for him--one of +life and death. Will you convey it to him?" + +"I will," said the highwayman. + +"Swear by those bones to do so," cried Barbara, pointing with her skinny +fingers to the gibbet; "that you will do my bidding." + +"I swear," cried Dick. + +"Fail not, or _we_ will haunt thee to thy life's end," cried Barbara; +adding, as she handed a sealed package to the highwayman, "Give this to +Sir Luke--to him alone. I would have sent it to him by other hands ere +this, but my people have deserted me--have pillaged my stores--have +rifled me of all save this. Give this, I say, to Sir Luke, with your own +hands. You have sworn it, and will obey. Give it to him, and bid him +think of Sybil as he opens it. But this must not be till Eleanor is in +his power; and she must be present when the seal is broken. It relates +to both. Dare not to tamper with it, or my curse shall pursue you. That +packet is guarded with a triple spell, which to you were fatal. Obey me, +and my dying breath shall bless thee." + +"Never fear," said Dick, taking the packet; "I'll not disappoint you, +mother, depend upon it." + +"Hence!" cried the crone; and as she watched Dick's figure lessening +upon the Waste, and at length beheld him finally disappear down the +hill-side, she sank to the ground, her frail strength being entirely +exhausted. "Body and soul may now part in peace," gasped she. "All I +live for is accomplished." And ere one hour had elapsed, the night crow +was perched upon her still breathing frame. + +Long pondering upon this singular interview, Dick pursued his way. At +length he thought fit to examine the packet with which the old gipsy had +entrusted him. + +"It feels like a casket," thought he. "It can't be gold. But then it may +be jewels, though they don't rattle, and it ain't quite heavy enough. +What can it be? I should like to know. There is some mystery, that's +certain, about it; but I will not break the seal, not I. As to her +spell, that I don't value a rush; but I've sworn to give it to Sir Luke, +and deliver her message, and I'll keep my word if I can. He shall have +it." So saying, he replaced it in his pocket. + + + + +_CHAPTER XI_ + +_THE PHANTOM STEED_ + + I'll speak to thee, though hell itself should gape, + And bid me hold my peace. + + _Hamlet._ + + +Time presses. We may not linger in our course. We must fly on before our +flying highwayman. Full forty miles shall we pass over in a breath. Two +more hours have elapsed, and he still urges his headlong career, with +heart resolute as ever, and purpose yet unchanged. Fair Newark, and the +dashing Trent, "most loved of England's streams," are gathered to his +laurels. Broad Notts, and its heavy paths and sweeping glades; its +waste--forest no more--of Sherwood past; bold Robin Hood and his merry +men, his Marian and his moonlight rides, recalled, forgotten, left +behind. Hurrah! hurrah! That wild halloo, that waving arm, that +enlivening shout--what means it? He is once more upon Yorkshire ground; +his horse's hoof beats once more the soil of that noble shire. So +transported was Dick, that he could almost have flung himself from the +saddle to kiss the dust beneath his feet. Thrice fifty miles has he run, +nor has the morn yet dawned upon his labors. Hurrah! the end draws nigh; +the goal is in view. Halloo! halloo! on! + +Bawtrey is past. He takes the lower road by Thorne and Selby. He is +skirting the waters of the deep-channelled Don. + +Bess now began to manifest some slight symptoms of distress. There was a +strain in the carriage of her throat, a dulness in her eye, a laxity in +her ear, and a slight stagger in her gait, which Turpin noticed with +apprehension. Still she went on, though not at the same gallant pace as +heretofore. But, as the tired bird still battles with the blast upon the +ocean, as the swimmer still stems the stream, though spent, on went she: +nor did Turpin dare to check her, fearing that, if she stopped, she +might lose her force, or, if she fell, she would rise no more. + +It was now that gray and grimly hour ere one flicker of orange or rose +has gemmed the east, and when unwearying Nature herself seems to snatch +brief repose. In the roar of restless cities, this is the only time when +their strife is hushed. Midnight is awake--alive; the streets ring with +laughter and with rattling wheels. At the third hour, a dead, deep +silence prevails; the loud-voiced streets grow dumb. They are deserted +of all, save the few guardians of the night and the skulking robber. But +even far removed from the haunts of men and hum of towns it is the same. +"Nature's best nurse" seems to weigh nature down, and stillness reigns +throughout. Our feelings are, in a great measure, influenced by the +hour. Exposed to the raw, crude atmosphere, which has neither the +nipping, wholesome shrewdness of morn, nor the profound chillness of +night, the frame vainly struggles against the dull, miserable sensations +engendered by the damps, and at once communicates them to the spirits. +Hope forsakes us. We are weary, exhausted. Our energy is dispirited. +Sleep does "not weigh our eyelids down." We stare upon the vacancy. We +conjure up a thousand restless, disheartening images. We abandon +projects we have formed, and which, viewed through this medium, appear +fantastical, chimerical, absurd. We want rest, refreshment, energy. + +We will not say that Turpin had all these misgivings. But he had to +struggle hard with himself to set sleep and exhaustion at defiance. + +The moon had set. The stars, + + Pinnacled deep in the intense main, + +had all--save one, the herald of the dawn--withdrawn their luster. A +dull mist lay on the stream, and the air became piercing cold. Turpin's +chilled fingers could scarcely grasp the slackening rein, while his +eyes, irritated by the keen atmosphere, hardly enabled him to +distinguish surrounding objects, or even to guide his steed. It was +owing, probably, to this latter circumstance, that Bess suddenly +floundered and fell, throwing her master over her head. + +Turpin instantly recovered himself. His first thought was for his horse. +But Bess was instantly upon her legs--covered with dust and foam, sides +and cheeks--and with her large eyes glaring wildly, almost piteously, +upon her master. + +"Art hurt, lass?" asked Dick, as she shook herself, and slightly +shivered. And he proceeded to the horseman's scrutiny. "Nothing but a +shake; though that dull eye--those quivering flanks----" added he, +looking earnestly at her. "She won't go much further, and I must give it +up--what! give up the race just when it's won? No, that can't be. Ha! +well thought on. I've a bottle of liquid, given me by an old fellow, who +was a knowing cove and famous jockey in his day, which he swore would +make a horse go as long as he'd a leg to carry him, and bade me keep it +for some great occasion. I've never used it; but I'll try it now. It +should be in this pocket. Ah! Bess, wench, I fear I'm using thee, after +all, as Sir Luke did his mistress, that I thought so like thee. No +matter! It will be a glorious end." + +Raising her head upon his shoulder, Dick poured the contents of the +bottle down the throat of his mare. Nor had he to wait long before its +invigorating effects were instantaneous. The fire was kindled in the +glassy orb; her crest was once more erected; her flank ceased to quiver; +and she neighed loud and joyously. + +"Egad, the old fellow was right," cried Dick. "The drink has worked +wonders. What the devil could it have been? It smells like spirit," +added he, examining the bottle. "I wish I'd left a taste for myself. But +here's that will do as well." And he drained his flask of the last drop +of brandy. + +Dick's limbs were now become so excessively stiff, that it was with +difficulty he could remount his horse. But this necessary preliminary +being achieved by the help of a stile, he found no difficulty in +resuming his accustomed position upon the saddle. We know not whether +there was any likeness between our Turpin and that modern Hercules of +the sporting world, Mr. Osbaldeston. Far be it from us to institute any +comparison, though we cannot help thinking that, in one particular, he +resembled that famous "copper-bottomed" squire. This we will leave to +our reader's discrimination. Dick bore his fatigues wonderfully. He +suffered somewhat of that martyrdom which, according to Tom Moore, +occurs "to weavers and M. P.'s, from sitting too long;" but again on his +courser's back, he cared not for anything. + +Once more, at a gallant pace, he traversed the banks of the Don, +skirting the fields of flax that bound its sides, and hurried far more +swiftly than its current to its confluence with the Aire. + +Snaith was past. He was on the road to Selby when dawn first began to +break. Here and there a twitter was heard in the hedge; a hare ran +across his path, gray-looking as the morning self; and the mists began +to rise from the earth. A bar of gold was drawn against the east, like +the roof of a gorgeous palace. But the mists were heavy in this world of +rivers and their tributary streams. The Ouse was before him, the Trent +and Aire behind; the Don and Derwent on either hand, all in their way to +commingle their currents ere they formed the giant Humber. Amid a region +so prodigal of water, no wonder the dews fell thick as rain. Here and +there the ground was clear; but then again came a volley of vapor, dim +and palpable as smoke. + +While involved in one of these fogs, Turpin became aware of another +horseman by his side. It was impossible to discern the features of the +rider, but his figure in the mist seemed gigantic; neither was the color +of his steed distinguishable. Nothing was visible except the +meagre-looking, phantom-like outline of a horse and his rider, and, as +the unknown rode upon the turf that edged the way, even the sound of the +horse's hoofs was scarcely audible. Turpin gazed, not without +superstitious awe. Once or twice he essayed to address the strange +horseman, but his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. He fancied he +discovered in the mist-exaggerated lineaments of the stranger a wild and +fantastic resemblance to his friend Tom King. "It must be Tom," thought +Turpin; "he is come to warn me of my approaching end. I will speak to +him." + +But terror o'ermastered his speech. He could not force out a word, and +thus side by side they rode in silence. Quaking with fears he would +scarcely acknowledge to himself, Dick watched every motion of his +companion. He was still, stern, spectre-like, erect; and looked for all +the world like a demon on his phantom steed. His courser seemed, in the +indistinct outline, to be huge and bony, and, as he snorted furiously +in the fog, Dick's heated imagination supplied his breath with a due +proportion of flame. Not a word was spoken--not a sound heard, save the +sullen dead beat of his hoofs upon the grass. It was intolerable to ride +thus cheek by jowl with a goblin. Dick could stand it no longer. He put +spurs to his horse, and endeavored to escape. But it might not be. The +stranger, apparently without effort, was still by his side, and Bess's +feet, in her master's apprehensions, were nailed to the ground. +By-and-by, however, the atmosphere became clearer. Bright quivering +beams burst through the vaporous shroud, and then it was that Dick +discovered that the apparition of Tom King was no other than Luke +Rookwood. He was mounted on his old horse, Rook, and looked grim and +haggard as a ghost vanishing at the crowing of the cock. + +"Sir Luke Rookwood, by this light!" exclaimed Dick, in astonishment. +"Why, I took you for----" + +"The devil, no doubt?" returned Luke, smiling sternly, "and were sorry +to find yourself so hard pressed. Don't disquiet yourself; I am still +flesh and blood." + +"Had I taken you for one of mortal mould," said Dick, "you should have +soon seen where I'd have put you in the race. That confounded fog +deceived me, and Bess acted the fool as well as myself. However, now I +know you, Sir Luke, you must spur alongside, for the hawks are on the +wing; and though I've much to say, I've not a second to lose." And Dick +briefly detailed the particulars of his ride, concluding with his +rencontre with Barbara. "Here's the packet," said he, "just as I got it. +You must keep it till the proper moment. And here," added he, fumbling +in his pocket for another paper, "is the marriage document. You are now +your father's lawful son, let who will say you nay. Take it and welcome. +If you are ever master of Miss Mowbray's hand, you will not forget Dick +Turpin." + +"I will not," said Luke, eagerly grasping the certificate; "but she +never may be mine." + +"You have her oath?" + +"I have." + +"What more is needed?" + +"Her hand." + +"That will follow." + +"It _shall_ follow," replied Sir Luke, wildly. "You are right. She is my +affianced bride--affianced before hell, if not before heaven. I have +sealed the contract with blood--with Sybil's blood--and it shall be +fulfilled. I have her oath--her oath--ha, ha! Though I perish in the +attempt, I will wrest her from Ranulph's grasp. She shall never be his. +I would stab her first. Twice have I failed in my endeavors to bear her +off. I am from Rookwood even now. To-morrow night I shall renew the +attack. Will you assist me?" + +"To-morrow night!" interrupted Dick. + +"Nay, I should say to-night. A new day has already dawned," replied +Luke. + +"I will: she is at Rookwood?" + +"She languishes there at present, attended by her mother and her lover. +The hall is watched and guarded. Ranulph is ever on the alert. But we +will storm their garrison. I have a spy within its walls--a gipsy girl, +faithful to my interests. From her I have learnt that there is a plot to +wed Eleanor to Ranulph, and that the marriage is to take place privately +to-morrow. This must be prevented." + +"It must. But why not boldly appear in person at the hall, and claim +her?" + +"Why not? I am a proscribed felon. A price is set upon my head. I am +hunted through the country--driven to concealment, and dare not show +myself for fear of capture. What could I do now? They would load me with +fetters, bury me in a dungeon, and wed Eleanor to Ranulph. What would my +rights avail? What would her oath signify to them? No; she must be mine +by force. _His_ she shall never be. Again, I ask you, will you aid me?" + +"I have said--I will. Where is Alan Rookwood?" + +"Concealed within the hut on Thorne Waste. You know it--it was one of +your haunts." + +"I know it well," said Dick, "and Conkey Jem, its keeper, into the +bargain: he is a knowing file. I'll join you at the hut at midnight, if +all goes well. We'll bring off the wench, in spite of them all--just the +thing I like. But in case of a break-down on my part, suppose you take +charge of my purse in the mean time." + +Luke would have declined this offer. + +"Pshaw!" said Dick. "Who knows what may happen? and it's not ill-lined +either. You'll find an odd hundred or so in that silken bag--it's not +often your highwayman gives away a purse. Take it, man--we'll settle all +to-night; and if I don't come, keep it--it will help you to your bride. +And now off with you to the hut, for you are only hindering me. Adieu! +My love to old Alan. We'll do the trick to-night. Away with you to the +hut. Keep yourself snug there till midnight, and we'll ride over to +Rookwood." + +"At midnight," replied Sir Luke, wheeling off, "I shall expect you." + +"'Ware hawks!" hallooed Dick. + +But Luke had vanished. In another instant Dick was scouring the plain as +rapidly as ever. In the mean time, as Dick has casually alluded to the +hawks, it may not be amiss to inquire how they had flown throughout the +night, and whether they were still in chase of their quarry. + +With the exception of Titus, who was completely done up at Grantham, +"having got," as he said, "a complete bellyful of it," they were still +on the wing, and resolved sooner or later to pounce upon their prey, +pursuing the same system as heretofore in regard to the post-horses. +Major Mowbray and Paterson took the lead, but the irascible and +invincible attorney was not far in their rear, his wrath having been by +no means allayed by the fatigue he had undergone. At Bawtrey they held +a council of war for a few minutes, being doubtful which course he had +taken. Their incertitude was relieved by a foot traveller, who had heard +Dick's loud halloo on passing the boundary of Nottinghamshire, and had +seen him take the lower road. They struck, therefore, into the path at +Thorne at a hazard, and were soon satisfied they were right. Furiously +did they now spur on. They reached Selby, changed horses at the inn in +front of the venerable cathedral church, and learnt from the postboy +that a toilworn horseman, on a jaded steed, had ridden through the town +about five minutes before them, and could not be more than a quarter of +a mile in advance. "His horse was so dead beat," said the lad, "that I'm +sure he cannot have got far; and, if you look sharp, I'll be bound +you'll overtake him before he reaches Cawood Ferry." + +Mr. Coates was transported. "We'll lodge him snug in York Castle before +an hour, Paterson," cried he, rubbing his hands. + +"I hope so, sir," said the chief constable, "but I begin to have some +qualms." + +"Now, gentlemen," shouted the postboy, "come along. I'll soon bring you +to him." + + + + +_CHAPTER XII_ + +_CAWOOD FERRY_ + + The sight renewed my courser's feet, + A moment, staggering feebly fleet, + A moment, with a faint low neigh, + He answered, and then fell. + With gasps and glazing eyes he lay, + And reeking limbs immovable,-- + His first, and last career was done. + + _Mazeppa._ + + +The sun had just o'ertopped the "high eastern hill," as Turpin reached +the Ferry of Cawood, and his beams were reflected upon the deep and +sluggish waters of the Ouse. Wearily had he dragged his course +thither--wearily and slow. The powers of his gallant steed were spent, +and he could scarcely keep her from sinking. It was now midway 'twixt +the hours of five and six. Nine miles only lay before him, and that +thought again revived him. He reached the water's edge, and hailed the +ferryboat, which was then on the other side of the river. At that +instant a loud shout smote his ear; it was the halloo of his pursuers. +Despair was in his look. He shouted to the boatman, and bade him pull +fast. The man obeyed; but he had to breast a strong stream, and had a +lazy bark and heavy sculls to contend with. He had scarcely left the +shore when, another shout was raised from the pursuers. The tramp of +their steeds grew louder and louder. + +The boat had scarcely reached the middle of the stream. His captors were +at hand. Quietly did he walk down the bank, and as cautiously enter the +water. There was a plunge, and steed and rider were swimming down the +river. + +Major Mowbray was at the brink of the stream. He hesitated an instant, +and stemmed the tide. Seized, as it were, by a mania for equestrian +distinction, Mr. Coates braved the torrent. Not so Paterson. He very +coolly took out his bulldogs, and, watching Turpin, cast up in his own +mind the _pros_ and _cons_ of shooting him as he was crossing. "I could +certainly hit him," thought, or said, the constable; "but what of that? +A dead highwayman is worth nothing--alive, he _weighs_ 300_l_. I won't +shoot him, but I'll make a pretence." And he fired accordingly. + +The shot skimmed over the water, but did not, as it was intended, do +much mischief. It, however, occasioned a mishap, which had nearly proved +fatal to our aquatic attorney. Alarmed at the report of the pistol, in +the nervous agitation of the moment Coates drew in his rein so tightly +that his steed instantly sank. A moment or two afterwards he rose, +shaking his ears, and floundering heavily towards the shore; and such +was the chilling effect of this sudden immersion, that Mr. Coates now +thought much more of saving himself than of capturing Turpin. Dick, +meanwhile, had reached the opposite bank, and, refreshed by her bath, +Bess scrambled up the sides of the stream, and speedily regained the +road. "I shall do it yet," shouted Dick; "that stream has saved her. +Hark away, lass! Hark away!" + +Bess heard the cheering cry, and she answered to the call. She roused +all her energies; strained every sinew, and put forth all her remaining +strength. Once more, on wings of swiftness, she bore him away from his +pursuers, and Major Mowbray, who had now gained the shore, and made +certain of securing him, beheld him spring, like a wounded hare, from +beneath his very hand. + +"It cannot hold out," said the major; "it is but an expiring flash; that +gallant steed must soon drop." + +"She be regularly booked, that's certain," said the postboy. + +"We shall find her on the road." + +Contrary to all expectation, however, Bess held on, and set pursuit at +defiance. Her pace was swift as when she started. But it was +unconscious and mechanical action. It wanted the ease, the lightness, +the life of her former riding. She seemed screwed up to a task which she +must execute. There was no flogging, no gory heel; but the heart was +throbbing, tugging at the sides within. Her spirit spurred her onwards. +Her eye was glazing; her chest heaving; her flank quivering; her crest +again fallen. Yet she held on. "She is dying!" said Dick. "I feel +it----" No, she held on. + +Fulford is past. The towers and pinnacles of York burst upon him in all +the freshness, the beauty, and the glory of a bright, clear, autumnal +morn. The ancient city seemed to smile a welcome--a greeting. The noble +Minster and its serene and massive pinnacles, crocketed, lantern-like, +and beautiful; St. Mary's lofty spire, All-Hallows Tower, the massive +mouldering walls of the adjacent postern, the grim castle, and +Clifford's neighboring keep--all beamed upon him, like a bright-eyed +face, that laughs out openly. + +"It is done--it is won," cried Dick. "Hurrah! hurrah!" And the sunny air +was cleft with his shouts. + +Bess was not insensible to her master's exultation. She neighed feebly +in answer to his call, and reeled forwards. It was a piteous sight to +see her,--to mark her staring, protruding eyeball,--her shaking flanks; +but, while life and limb held together, she held on. + +Another mile is past. York is near. + +"Hurrah!" shouted Dick; but his voice was hushed. Bess tottered--fell. +There was a dreadful gasp--a parting moan--a snort; her eye gazed, for +an instant, upon her master, with a dying glare; then grew glassy, +rayless, fixed. A shiver ran through her frame. Her heart had burst. + +Dick's eyes were blinded, as with rain. His triumph, though achieved, +was forgotten--his own safety was disregarded. He stood weeping and +swearing, like one beside himself. + +"And art thou gone, Bess?" cried he, in a voice of agony, lifting up his +courser's head, and kissing her lips, covered with blood-flecked foam. +"Gone, gone! and I have killed the best steed that was ever crossed! And +for what?" added Dick, beating his brow with his clenched hand--"for +what? for what?" + +At this moment the deep bell of the Minster clock tolled out the hour of +six. + +"I am answered," gasped Dick; "_it was to hear those strokes_." + +Turpin was roused from the state of stupefaction into which he had +fallen by a smart slap on the shoulder. Recalled to himself by the blow, +he started at once to his feet, while his hands sought his pistols: but +he was spared the necessity of using them, by discovering in the +intruder the bearded visage of the gipsy Balthazar. The patrico was +habited in mendicant weeds, and sustained a large wallet upon his +shoulders. + +"So it's all over with the best mare in England, I see," said Balthazar; +"I can guess how it has happened--you are pursued?" + +"I am," said Dick, roughly. + +"Your pursuers are at hand?" + +"Within a few hundred yards." + +"Then, why stay here? Fly while you can." + +"Never--never," cried Turpin; "I'll fight it out here by Bess's side. +Poor lass! I've killed her--but she has done it--ha, ha!--we have +won--what?" And his utterance was again choked. + +"Hark! I hear the tramp of horse, and shouts," cried the patrico. "Take +this wallet. You will find a change of dress within it. Dart into that +thick copse--save yourself." + +"But Bess--I cannot leave her," exclaimed Dick, with an agonizing look +at his horse. + +"And what did Bess die for, but to save you?" rejoined the patrico. + +"True, true," said Dick; "but take care of her, don't let those dogs of +hell meddle with her carcase." + +"Away," cried the patrico, "leave Bess to me." + +Possessing himself of the wallet, Dick disappeared in the adjoining +copse. + +He had not been gone many seconds when Major Mowbray rode up. + +"Who is this?" exclaimed the Major, flinging himself from his horse, and +seizing the patrico; "this is not Turpin." + +"Certainly not," replied Balthazar, coolly. "I am not exactly the figure +for a highwayman." + +"Where is he? What has become of him?" asked Coates, in despair, as he +and Paterson joined the major. + +"Escaped, I fear," replied the major. "Have you seen any one, fellow?" +added he, addressing the patrico. + +"I have seen no one," replied Balthazar. "I am only this instant +arrived. This dead horse lying in the road attracted my attention." + +"Ha!" exclaimed Paterson, leaping from his steed, "this may be Turpin +after all. He has as many disguises as the devil himself, and may have +carried that goat's hair in his pocket." Saying which, he seized the +patrico by the beard, and shook it with as little reverence as the Gaul +handled the hirsute chin of the Roman senator. + +"The devil! hands off," roared Balthazar. "By Salamon, I won't stand +such usage. Do you think a beard like mine is the growth of a few +minutes? Hands off! I say." + +"Regularly done!" said Paterson, removing his hold of the patrico's +chin, and looking as blank as a cartridge. + +"Ay," exclaimed Coates; "all owing to this worthless piece of carrion. +If it were not that I hope to see him dangling from those +walls"--pointing towards the Castle--"I should wish her master were by +her side now. To the dogs with her." And he was about to spurn the +breathless carcase of poor Bess, when a sudden blow, dealt by the +patrico's staff, felled him to the ground. + +"I'll teach you to molest me," said Balthazar, about to attack Paterson. + +"Come, come," said the discomfited chief constable, "no more of this. +It's plain we're in the wrong box. Every bone in my body aches +sufficiently without the aid of your cudgel, old fellow. Come, Mr. +Coates, take my arm, and let's be moving. We've had an infernal long +ride for nothing." + +"Not so," replied Coates; "I've paid pretty dearly for it. However, let +us see if we can get any breakfast at the Bowling-green, yonder; though +I've already had my morning draught," added the facetious man of law, +looking at his dripping apparel. + +"Poor Black Bess!" said Major Mowbray, wistfully regarding the body of +the mare, as it lay stretched at his feet. "Thou deservedst a better +fate, and a better master. In thee, Dick Turpin has lost his best +friend. His exploits will, henceforth, want the coloring of romance, +which thy unfailing energies threw over them. Light lie the ground over +thee, thou matchless mare!" + +To the Bowling-green the party proceeded, leaving the patrico in +undisturbed possession of the lifeless body of Black Bess. Major Mowbray +ordered a substantial repast to be prepared with all possible +expedition. + +A countryman, in a smock-frock, was busily engaged at his morning's +meal. + +"To see that fellow bolt down his breakfast, one would think he had +fasted for a month," said Coates; "see the wholesome effects of an +honest, industrious life, Paterson. I envy him his appetite--I should +fall to with more zest were Dick Turpin in his place." + +The countryman looked up. He was an odd-looking fellow, with a terrible +squint, and a strange, contorted countenance. + +"An ugly dog!" exclaimed Paterson: "what a devil of a twist he has +got!" + +"What's that you says about Dick Taarpin, measter?" asked the +countryman, with his mouth half full of bread. + +"Have you seen aught of him?" asked Coates. + +"Not I," mumbled the rustic; "but I hears aw the folks hereabouts talk +on him. They say as how he sets all the lawyers and constables at +defiance, and laughs in his sleeve at their efforts to cotch him--ha, +ha! He gets over more ground in a day than they do in a week--ho, ho!" + +"That's all over now," said Coates, peevishly. "He has cut his own +throat--ridden his famous mare to death." + +The countryman almost choked himself, in the attempt to bolt a huge +mouthful. "Ay--indeed, measter! How happened that?" asked he, so soon as +he recovered speech. + +"The fool rode her from London to York last night," returned Coates; +"such a feat was never performed before. What horse could be expected to +live through such work as that?" + +"Ah, he were a foo' to attempt that," observed the countryman; "but you +followed belike?" + +"We did." + +"And took him arter all, I reckon?" asked the rustic, squinting more +horribly than ever. + +"No," returned Coates, "I can't say we did; but we'll have him yet. I'm +pretty sure he can't be far off. We may be nearer him than we imagine." + +"May be so, measter," returned the countryman; "but might I be so bold +as to ax how many horses you used i' the chase--some half-dozen, maybe?" + +"Half a dozen!" growled Paterson; "we had twenty at the least." + +"And I ONE!" mentally ejaculated Turpin, for he was the countryman. + + + + +_BOOK V_ + + +_THE OATH_ + + It was an ill oath better broke than kept-- + The laws of nature, and of nations, do + Dispense with matters of divinity + In such a case. + + TATEHAM. + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_THE HUT ON THORNE WASTE_ + + _Hind._ Are all our horses and our arms in safety? + + _Furbo._ They feed, like Pluto's palfreys, under ground. + Our pistols, swords, and other furniture, + Are safely locked up at our rendezvous. + + _Prince of Prigs' Revels._ + + +The hut on Thorne Waste, to which we have before incidentally alluded, +and whither we are now about to repair, was a low, lone hovel, situate +on the banks of the deep and oozy Don, at the eastern extremity of that +extensive moor. Ostensibly its owner fulfilled the duties of ferryman to +that part of the river; but as the road which skirted his tenement was +little frequented, his craft was, for the most part, allowed to sleep +undisturbed in her moorings. + +In reality, however, he was the inland agent of a horde of smugglers who +infested the neighboring coast; his cabin was their rendezvous; and not +unfrequently, it was said, the depository of their contraband goods. +Conkey Jem--so was he called by his associates, on account of the +Slawkenbergian promontory which decorated his countenance--had been an +old hand at the same trade; but having returned from a seven years' +leave of absence from his own country, procured by his lawless life, now +managed matters with more circumspection and prudence, and had never +since been detected in his former illicit traffic; nor, though so +marvellously gifted in that particular himself, was he ever known to +_nose_ upon any of his accomplices; or, in other words, to betray them. +On the contrary, his hut was a sort of asylum for all fugitives from +justice; and although the sanctity of his walls would, in all +probability, have been little regarded, had any one been, detected +within them, yet, strange to say, even if a robber had been tracked--as +it often chanced--to Jem's immediate neighborhood, all traces of him +were sure to be lost at the ferryman's hut; and further search was +useless. + +Within, the hut presented such an appearance as might be expected, from +its owner's pursuits and its own unpromising exterior. Consisting of +little more than a couple of rooms, the rude whitewashed walls +exhibited, in lieu of prints of more pretension, a gallery of +choicely-illustrated ballads, celebrating the exploits of various +highwaymen, renowned in song, amongst which our friend Dick Turpin +figured conspicuously upon his sable steed, Bess being represented by a +huge rampant black patch, and Dick, with a pistol considerably longer +than the arm that sustained it. Next to this curious collection was a +drum-net, a fishing-rod, a landing-net, an eel-spear, and other +piscatorial apparatus, with a couple of sculls and a boat-hook, +indicative of Jem's ferryman's office, suspended by various hooks; the +whole blackened and begrimed by peat-smoke, there being no legitimate +means of _exit_ permitted to the vapor generated by the turf-covered +hearthstone. The only window, indeed, in the hut, was to the front; the +back apartment, which served Jem for dormitory, had no aperture whatever +for the admission of light, except such as was afforded through the door +of communication between the rooms. A few broken rush-bottomed chairs, +with a couple of dirty tables, formed the sum total of the ferryman's +furniture. + +Notwithstanding the grotesque effect of his exaggerated nasal organ, +Jem's aspect was at once savage and repulsive; his lank black hair hung +about his inflamed visage in wild elf locks, the animal predominating +throughout; his eyes were small, red, and wolfish, and glared +suspiciously from beneath his scarred and tufted eyebrows; while certain +of his teeth projected, like the tusks of a boar, from out his +coarse-lipped, sensual mouth. Dwarfish in stature, and deformed in +person, Jem was built for strength; and what with his width of shoulder +and shortness of neck, his figure looked as square and as solid as a +cube. His throat and hirsute chest, constantly exposed to the weather, +had acquired a glowing tan, while his arms, uncovered to the shoulders, +and clothed with fur, like a bear's hide, down, almost, to the tips of +his fingers, presented a knot of folded muscles, the concentrated force +of which few would have desired to encounter in action. + +It was now on the stroke of midnight; and Jem, who had been lying +extended upon the floor of his hovel, suddenly aroused by that warning +impulse which never fails to awaken one of his calling at the exact +moment when they require to be upon the alert, now set about fanning +into flame the expiring fuel upon his hearth. Having succeeded in +igniting further portions of the turf, Jem proceeded to examine the +security of his door and window, and satisfied that lock and bolt were +shot, and that the shutter was carefully closed, he kindled a light at +his fire, and walked towards his bedroom. But it was not to retire for +the night that the ferryman entered his dormitory. Beside his crazy +couch stood a litter of empty bottles and a beer cask, crowding the +chamber. The latter he rolled aside, and pressing his foot upon the +plank beneath it, the board gave way, and a trap-door opening, +discovered a ladder, conducting, apparently, into the bowels of the +earth. Jem leaned over the abyss, and called in hoarse accents to some +one below. + +An answer was immediately returned, and a light became soon afterwards +visible at the foot of the ladder. Two figures next ascended; the first +who set foot within the ferryman's chamber was Alan Rookwood: the other, +as the reader may perhaps conjecture, was his grandson. + +"Is it the hour?" asked Luke, as he sprang from out the trap-door. + +"Ay," replied Jem, with a coarse laugh, "or I had not disturbed myself +to call you. But, maybe," added he, softening his manner a little, +"you'll like some refreshments before you start? A stoup of Nantz will +put you in cue for the job, ha, ha!" + +"Not I," replied Luke, who could ill tolerate his companion's +familiarity. + +"Give me to drink," said Alan, walking feebly towards the fire, and +extending his skinny fingers before it. "I am chilled by the damps of +that swampy cave--the natural heat within me is nigh extinguished." + +"Here is that shall put fresh marrow into your old bones," returned Jem, +handing him a tumbler of brandy; "never stint it. I'll be sworn you'll +be the better on't, for you look desperate queer, man, about the +mazard." + +Alan was, in sooth, a ghastly spectacle. The events of the last few days +had wrought a fearful change. His countenance was almost exanimate; and +when, with shaking hand and trembling lips, he had drained the fiery +potion to the dregs, a terrible grimace was excited upon his features, +such as is produced upon the corpse by the action of the galvanic +machine. Even Jem regarded him with a sort of apprehension. After he had +taken breath for a moment, Alan broke out into a fit of wild and +immoderate laughter. + +"Why, ay," said he, "this is indeed to grow young again, and to feel +fresh fire within one's veins. Who would have thought so much of life +and energy could reside in this little vessel? I am myself once more, +and not the same soulless, pulseless lump of clay I was a moment or two +back. The damps of that den had destroyed me--and the solitude--the +_waking dreams_ I've had--the visions! horrible! I will not think of +them. I am better now--ready to execute my plans--_your_ plans I should +say, grandson Luke. Are our horses in readiness? Why do we tarry? The +hour is arrived, and I would not that my new-blown courage should +evaporate ere the great work for which I live be accomplished. That +done, I ask no further stimulant. Let us away." + +"We tarry but for Turpin," said Luke; "I am as impatient as yourself. I +fear some mischance must have befallen him, or he would have been true +to his appointment. Do you not think so?" he added, addressing the +ferryman. + +"Why," replied Jem, reluctantly, "since you put it home to me, and I +can't conceal it no longer, I'll tell you what I didn't tell afore, for +fear you should be down in the mouth about it. Dick Turpin can do +nothing for you--he's grabb'd." + +"Turpin apprehended!" ejaculated Luke. + +"Ay," returned Jem. "I learnt from a farmer who crossed the ferry at +nightfall, that he were grabb'd this morning at York, after having +ridden his famous cherry-colored prad to death--that's what hurts me +more not all the rest; though I fear Dick will scarce cheat the nubbing +cheat this go. His time's up, I calculate." + +"Will you supply his place and accompany us?" asked Luke of the +ferryman. + +"No, no," replied Jem, shaking his head; "there's too much risk, and too +little profit, in the business for me--it won't pay." + +"And what might tempt you to undertake the enterprise?" asked Alan. + +"More than you have to offer, Master Peter," replied Jem, who had not +been enlightened upon the subject of Alan's real name or condition. + +"How know you that?" demanded Alan. "Name your demand." + +"Well, then, I'll not say but a hundred pounds, if you had it, might +bribe me----" + +"To part with your soul to the devil, I doubt not," said Luke, fiercely +stamping the ground. "Let us be gone. We need not his mercenary aid. We +will do without him." + +"Stay," said Alan, "you shall have the hundred, provided you will assure +us of your services." + +"Cut no more blarneyfied whids, Master Sexton," replied Jem, in a gruff +tone. "If I'm to go, I must have the chink down, and that's more nor +either of you can do, I'm thinking." + +"Give me your purse," whispered Alan to his grandson. "Pshaw," continued +he, "do you hesitate? This man can do much for us. Think upon Eleanor, +and be prudent. You cannot accomplish your task unaided." Taking the +amount from the purse, he gave it to the ferryman, adding, "If we +succeed, the sum shall be doubled; and now let us set out." + +During Alan's speech, Jem's sharp eyes had been fastened upon the purse, +while he mechanically clutched the bank-notes which were given to him. +He could not remove his gaze, but continued staring at the treasure +before him, as if he would willingly, by force, have made it all his +own. + +Alan saw the error he had committed in exposing the contents of the +purse to the avaricious ferryman, and was about to restore it to Luke, +when the bag was suddenly snatched from his grasp, and himself levelled +by a blow upon the floor. Conkey Jem found the temptation irresistible. +Knowing himself to be a match for both his companions, and imagining he +was secure from interruption, he conceived the idea of making away with +them, and possessing himself of their wealth. No sooner had he disposed +of Alan, than he assailed Luke, who met his charge half way. With the +vigor and alacrity of the latter the reader is already acquainted, but +he was no match for the herculean strength of the double-jointed +ferryman, who, with the ferocity of the boar he so much resembled, thus +furiously attacked him. Nevertheless, as may be imagined, he was not +disposed to yield up his life tamely. He saw at once the villain's +murderous intentions, and, well aware of his prodigious power, would not +have risked a close struggle could he have avoided it. Snatching the +eel-spear from the wall, he had hurled it at the head of his adversary, +but without effect. In the next instant he was locked in a clasp +terrible as that of a Polar bear. In spite of all his struggles, Luke +was speedily hurled to the ground: and Jem, who had thrown himself upon +him, was apparently searching about for some weapon to put a bloody +termination to the conflict, when the trampling of a horse was heard at +the door, three taps were repeated slowly, one after the other, and a +call resounded from a whistle. + +"Damnation!" ejaculated Jem, gruffly, "interrupted!" And he seemed +irresolute, slightly altering his position on Luke's body. + +The moment was fortunate for Luke, and, in all probability, saved his +life. He extricated himself from the ferryman's grasp, regained his +feet, and, what was of more importance, the weapon he had thrown away. + +"Villain!" cried he, about to plunge the spear with all his force into +his enemy's side, "you shall----" + +The whistle was again heard without. + +"Don't you hear that?" cried Jem: "'Tis Turpin's call." + +"Turpin!" echoed Luke, dropping the point of his weapon. "Unbar the +door, you treacherous rascal, and admit him." + +"Well, say no more about it, Sir Luke," said Jem, fawningly; "I knows I +owes you my life, and I thank you for it. Take back the lowre. He should +not have shown it me--it was that as did all the mischief." + +"Unbar the door, and parley not," said Luke contemptuously. + +Jem complied with pretended alacrity, but real reluctance, casting +suspicious glances at Luke as he withdrew the bolts. The door at length +being opened, haggard, exhausted, and covered with dust, Dick Turpin +staggered into the hut. + +"Well, I am here," said he, with a hollow laugh. "I've kept my word--ha, +ha! I've been damnably put to it; but here I am, ha, ha!" And he sank +upon one of the stools. + +"We heard you were apprehended," said Luke. "I am glad to find the +information was false," added he, glancing angrily at the ferryman. + +"Whoever told you that, told you a lie, Sir Luke," replied Dick; "but +what are you scowling at, old Charon?--and you, Sir Luke? Why do you +glower at each other? Make fast the door--bolt it, Cerberus--right! Now +give me a glass of brandy, and then I'll talk--a bumper--so--another. +What's that I see--a dead man? Old Peter--Alan I mean--has anything +happened to him, that he has taken his measure there so quietly?" + +"Nothing, I trust," said Luke, stooping to raise up his grandsire. "The +blow has stunned him." + +"The blow?" repeated Turpin. "What! there _has_ been a quarrel then? I +thought as much from your amiable looks at each other. Come, come, we +must have no differences. Give the old earthworm a taste of this--I'll +engage it will bring him to fast enough. Ay, rub his temples with it if +you'd rather; but it's a better remedy down the gullet--the natural +course; and hark ye, Jem, search your crib quickly, and see if you have +any _grub_ within it, and any more _bub_ in the cellar: I'm as hungry as +a hunter, and as thirsty as a camel." + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_MAJOR MOWBRAY_ + + _Mephistopheles._ Out with your toasting iron! Thrust away! + + HAYWARD'S _Translation of Faust_. + + +Conkey Jem went in search of such provisions as his hovel afforded. +Turpin, meantime, lent his assistance towards the revival of Alan +Rookwood; and it was not long before his efforts, united with those of +Luke, were successful, and Alan restored to consciousness. He was +greatly surprised to find the highwayman had joined them, and expressed +an earnest desire to quit the hut as speedily as possible. + +"That shall be done forthwith, my dear fellow," said Dick. "But if you +had fasted as long as I have done, and gone through a few of my fatigues +into the bargain, you would perceive, without difficulty, the propriety +of supping before you started. Here comes Old Nosey, with a flitch of +bacon and a loaf. Egad, I can scarce wait for the toasting. In my +present mood, I could almost devour a grunter in the sty." Whereupon he +applied himself to the loaf, and to a bottle of stout March ale, which +Jem placed upon the table, quaffing copious draughts of the latter, +while the ferryman employed himself in toasting certain rashers of the +flitch upon the hissing embers. + +Luke, meanwhile, stalked impatiently about the room. He had laid aside +his tridental spear, having first, however, placed a pistol within his +breast to be ready for instant service, should occasion demand it, as he +could now put little reliance upon the ferryman's fidelity. He glanced +with impatience at Turpin, who pursued his meal with steady voracity, +worthy of a half-famished soldier; but the highwayman returned no answer +to his looks, except such as was conveyed by the incessant clatter of +his masticating jaws, during the progress of his, apparently, +interminable repast. + +"Ready for you in a second, Sir Luke," said Dick; "all right +now--capital ale, Charon--strong as Styx--ha, ha!--one other rasher, and +I've done. Sorry to keep you--can't conceive how cleverly I put the +winkers upon 'em at York, in the dress of a countryman; all owing to old +Balty, the patrico, an old pal--ha, ha! My old pals never _nose_ upon +me--eh, Nosey--always help one out of the water--always staunch. Here's +health to you, old crony." + +Jem returned a sulky response, as he placed the last rasher on the +table, which was speedily discussed. + +"Poor Bess!" muttered Dick, as he quaffed off the final glass of ale. +"Poor lass! we buried her by the roadside, beneath the trees--deep--deep. +Her remains shall never be disturbed. Alas! alas! my bonny Black Bess! +But no matter, her name is yet alive--her deeds will survive her--the +trial is over. And now," continued he, rising from his seat, "I'm with +you. Where are the tits?" + +"In the stable, under ground," growled Jem. + +Alan Rookwood, in the mean time, had joined his grandson, and they +conversed an instant or two apart. + +"My strength will not bear me through the night," said he. "That fellow +has thoroughly disabled me. You must go without me to the hall. Here is +the key of the secret passage. You know the entrance. I will await you +in the tomb." + +"The tomb!" echoed Luke. + +"Ay, our family vault," returned Alan, with a ghastly grin--"it is the +only place of security for me now. Let me see _her_ there. Let me know +that my vengeance is complete, that I triumph in my death over him, the +accursed _brother_, through you, my grandson. _You_ have a rival +brother--a successful one; you know now what hatred is." + +"I do," returned Luke, fiercely. + +"But not such hate as mine, which, through a life, a long life, hath +endured, intense as when 'twas first engendered in my bosom; which _from +one_ hath spread o'er all my race--o'er all save _you_--and which even +now, when death stares me in the face--when the spirit pants to fly from +its prison-house, burns fiercely as ever. You cannot know what hate like +that may be. You must have wrongs--such wrongs as _mine_ first." + +"My hate to Ranulph is bitter as your own to Sir Reginald." + +"Name him not," shrieked Alan. "But, oh! to think upon the bride he +robbed me of--the young--the beautiful!--whom I loved to madness; whose +memory is a barbed shaft, yet rankling keen as ever at my heart. God of +Justice! how is it that I have thus long survived? But some men die by +inches. My dying lips shall name him once again, and then 'twill be but +to blend his name with curses." + +"I speak of him no more," said Luke. "I will meet you in the vault." + +"Remember, to-morrow is her wedding day with Ranulph." + +"Think you I forget it?" + +"Bear it constantly in mind. To-morrow's dawn must see her _yours_ or +_his_. You have her oath. To you or to death she is affianced. If she +should hesitate in her election, do not you hesitate. Woman's will is +fickle; her scruples of conscience will be readily overcome; she will +not heed her vows--but let her not escape you. Cast off all your +weakness. You are young, and not as I am, age-enfeebled. Be firm, and," +added he, with a look of terrible meaning, "if all else should fail--if +you are surrounded--if you cannot bear her off--use this," and he placed +a dagger in Luke's hands. "It has avenged me, ere now, on a perjured +wife, it will avenge you of a forsworn mistress, and remove all obstacle +to Rookwood." + +Luke took the weapon. + +"Would you have me kill her?" demanded he. + +"Sooner than she should be Ranulph's." + +"Ay, aught sooner than that. But I would not murder both." + +"Both!" echoed Alan. "I understand you not." + +"Sybil and Eleanor," replied Luke; "for, as surely as I live, Sybil's +death will lie at my door." + +"How so?" asked Alan; "the poison was self-ministered." + +"True," replied Luke, with terrible emphasis, "but I _spoke daggers_. +Hearken to me," said he, hollowly whispering in his grandsire's ears. +"Methinks I am not long for this world. I have seen her since her +death!" + +"Tut, tut," replied Alan. "'Tis not for you--a man--to talk thus. A +truce to these womanish fancies." + +"Womanish or not," returned Luke; "either my fancy has deceived me, or I +beheld her, distinctly as I now behold you, within yon cave, while you +were sleeping by my side." + +"It is disordered fancy," said Alan Rookwood. "You will live--live to +inherit Rookwood--live to see them fall crushed beneath your feet. For +myself, if I but see you master of Eleanor's hand, or know that she no +longer lives to bless your rival, or to mar your prospects, I care not +how soon I brave my threatened doom." + +"Of one or other you shall be resolved to-night," said Luke, placing the +dagger within his vest. + +At this moment a trampling of a horse was heard before the hovel, and in +another instant a loud knocking resounded from the door. The ferryman +instantly extinguished the light, motioning his companions to remain +silent. + +"What, ho!" shouted a voice. "Ferry wanted." + +"Gad zooks!" exclaimed Dick. "As I live, 'tis Major Mowbray!" + +"Major Mowbray!" echoed Alan, in amazement "What doth he here?" + +"He must be on his way from York to Rookwood, I conclude," said Dick. +"If he's here, I'll engage the others are not far off." + +Scarcely were the words out of Dick's mouth, when further clatter was +heard at the door, and the tones of Coates were heard, in _altissimo_ +key, demanding admittance. + +"Let us retire into the next room," whispered Turpin, "and then admit +them by all means, Conkey. And, hark ye, manage to detain them a few +seconds." + +"I'll do it," said Jem. "There's a bit of a hole you can peep through." + +Another loud rat-tat was heard at the door, threatening to burst it from +its hinges. + +"Well, I be coming," said Jem, seeing the coast was clear, in a drowsy, +yawning tone, as if just awakened from sleep. "You'll cross the river +none the faster for making so much noise." + +With these words he unbarred the door, and Coates and Paterson, who, it +appeared, were proceeding to Rookwood, entered the hovel. Major Mowbray +remained on horseback at the door. + +"Can you find us a glass of brandy to keep out the fog?" said Coates, +who knew something of our ferryman's vocations. "I know you are a lad of +amazing _spirit_." + +"May be I can, master, if I choose. But won't the other gemman walk +in-doors likewise?" + +"No, no," said Coates; "Major Mowbray don't choose to dismount." + +"Well, as you please," said Jem. "It'll take me a minute or two to get +the punt in order for all them prads." + +"The brandy in the first place," said Coates. "What's here?" added the +loquacious attorney, noticing the remnants of Turpin's repast. "But that +we're hurried, I should like a little frizzled bacon myself." + +Jem opened the door of his dormitory with the greatest caution, though +apparent indifference, and almost instantly returned with the brandy. +Coates filled a glass for Paterson, and then another for himself. The +ferryman left the house apparently to prepare his boat, half closing the +door after him. + +"By my faith! this is the right thing, Paterson," said the attorney. "We +may be sure the strength of this was never tested by a gauger's proof. +Take another thimbleful. We've twelve miles and a heavy pull to go +through ere we reach Rookwood. After all, we made but a poor night's +work of it, Master Constable. Cursed stupid in us to let him escape. I +only wish we had such another chance. Ah, if we had him within reach +now, how we would spring upon him--secure him in an instant. I should +glory in the encounter. I tell you what, Paterson, if ever he is taken, +I shall make a point of attending his execution, and see whether he dies +game. Ha, ha! You think he's sure to swing, Paterson, eh?" + +"Why, yes," replied the chief constable. "I wish I was as certain of my +reward as that Turpin will eventually figure at the scragging-post." + +"Your reward!" replied Coates. "Make yourself easy on that score, my +boy; you shall have your dues, depend upon it. Nay, for the matter of +that, I'll give you the money now, if you think proper." + +"Nothing like time present," said Paterson. "We'll make all square at +once." + +"Well, then," said Coates, taking out a pocket-book, "you shall have the +hundred I promised. You won't get Turpin's reward, the three hundred +pounds; but that can't be helped. You shall have mine--always a man of +my word, Paterson," continued the attorney, counting out the money. "My +father, the thief-taker, was a man of his word before me." + +"No doubt," said the chief constable; "I shall always be happy to serve +you." + +"And then there's that other affair," said the attorney, mysteriously, +still occupied in doling out his bank-notes, "that Luke Bradley's case; +the fellow, I mean, who calls himself Sir Luke Rookwood--ha, ha! A rank +impostor! Two fives, that makes fifty: you want another fifty, Paterson. +As I was saying, we may make a good job of that--we must ferret him out. +I know who will come down properly for that; and if we could only tuck +him up with his brother blade, why it would be worth double. He's all +along been a thorn in my Lady Rookwood's side; he's an artful +scoundrel." + +"Leave him to me," said Paterson; "I'll have him in less than a week. +What's your charge against him?" + +"Felony, burglary, murder, every description of crime under the +heavens," said Coates. "He's a very devil incarnate. Dick Turpin is as +mild as milk compared with him. By-the-by, now I think of it, this Jem, +Conkey Jem, as folks call him, may know something about him; he's a keen +file; I'll sound him. Thirty, forty, fifty--there's the exact amount. So +much for Dick Turpin." + +"Dick Turpin thanks you for it in person," said Dick, suddenly snatching +the whole sum from Paterson's hands, and felling the chief constable +with a blow of one of his pistols. "I wish I was as sure of escaping the +gallows as I am certain that Paterson has got his reward. You stare, +sir. You are once more in the hands of the Philistines. See who is at +your elbow." + +Coates, who was terrified almost out of his senses at the sight of +Turpin, scarcely ventured to turn his head; but when he did so, he was +perfectly horror-stricken at the threatening aspect of Luke, who held a +cutlass in his hand, which he had picked up in the ferryman's bedroom. + +"So you would condemn me for crimes I have never committed," said Luke. +"I am tempted, I own, to add the destruction of your worthless existence +to their number." + +"Mercy, for God's sake, mercy!" cried Coates, throwing himself at Luke's +feet. "I meant not what I said." + +"Hence, reptile," said Luke, pushing him aside; "I leave you to be dealt +upon by others." + +At this juncture, the door of the hut was flung open, and in rushed +Major Mowbray, sword in hand, followed by Conkey Jem. + +"There he stands, sir," cried the latter; "upon him!" + +"What! Conkey Jem turned snitch upon his pals?" cried Dick; "I scarce +believe my own ears." + +"Make yourself scarce, Dick," growled Jem; "the jigger's open, and the +boat loose. Leave Luke to his fate. He's sold." + +"Never! vile traitor," shouted Dick; "'tis thou art _sold_, not he;" +and, almost ere the words were spoken, a ball was lodged in the brain of +the treacherous ferryman. + +Major Mowbray, meanwhile, had rushed furiously upon Luke, who met his +assault with determined calmness. The strife was sharp, and threatened a +speedy and fatal issue. On the Major's side it was a desperate attack of +cut and thrust, which Luke had some difficulty in parrying; but as yet +no wounds were inflicted. Soldier as was the Major, Luke was not a whit +inferior to him in his knowledge of the science of defence, and in the +exercise of the broadsword he was perhaps the more skilful of the two: +upon the present occasion his coolness stood him in admirable stead. +Seeing him hard pressed, Turpin would have come to his assistance; but +Luke shouted to him to stand aside, and all that Dick could do, amid the +terrific clash of steel, was to kick the tables out of the way of the +combatants. Luke's aim was now slightly grazed by a cut made by the +Major, which he had parried. The smart of the wound roused his ire. He +attacked his adversary in his turn, with so much vigor and good will, +that, driven backwards by the irresistible assault, Major Mowbray +stumbled over the ferryman's body, which happened to lie in his way; and +his sword being struck from his grasp, his life became at once at his +assailant's disposal. + +Luke sheathed his sword. "Major Mowbray," said he, sternly, "your life +is in my power. I spare it for the blood that is between us--for your +sister's sake. I would not raise my hand against her brother." + +"I disclaim your kindred with me, villain!" wrathfully exclaimed the +Major. "I hold you no otherwise than as a wretched impostor, who has set +up claims he cannot justify; and as to my sister, if you dare to couple +her name----" and the Major made an ineffectual attempt to raise +himself, and to regain his sword, which Turpin, however, removed. + +"Dare!" echoed Luke, scornfully; "hereafter, you may learn to fear my +threats, and acknowledge the extent of my daring; and in that confidence +I give you life. Listen to me, sir. I am bound for Rookwood. I have +private access to the house--to your sister's chamber--_her +chamber_--mark you that! I shall go armed--attended. This night she +shall be mine. From you--from Ranulph--from Lady Rookwood, from all will +I bear her off. She shall be mine, and you, before the dawn, my brother, +or----" And Luke paused. + +"What further villainy remains untold?" inquired the Major, fiercely. + +"You shall bewail your sister's memory," replied Luke, gloomily. + +"I embrace the latter alternative with rapture," replied the Major--"God +grant her firmness to resist you. But I tremble for her." And the stern +soldier groaned aloud in his agony. + +"Here is a cord to bind him," said Turpin; "he must remain a prisoner +here." + +"Right," said Alan Rookwood, "unless--but enough blood has been shed +already." + +"Ay, marry has there," said Dick, "and I had rather not have given +Conkey Jem a taste of blue plumb, had there been any other mode of +silencing the snitching scoundrel, which there was not. As to the Major, +he's a gallant enemy, and shall have fair play as long as Dick Turpin +stands by. Come, sir," added he, to the Major, as he bound him hand and +foot with the rope, "I'll do it as gently as I can. You had better +submit with a good grace. There's no help for it. And now for my friend +Paterson, who was so anxious to furnish me with a hempen cravat, before +my neck was in order, he shall have an extra twist of the rope himself, +to teach him the inconvenience of a tight neckcloth when he recovers." +Saying which, he bound Paterson in such a manner, that any attempt at +liberation on the chief constable's part would infallibly strangle him. +"As to you, Mr. Coates," said he, addressing the trembling man of law, +"you shall proceed to Rookwood with us. You may yet be useful, and I'll +accommodate you with a seat behind my own saddle--a distinction I never +yet conferred upon any of your tribe. Recollect the countryman at the +Bowling-green at York--ha, ha! Come along, sir." And having kicked out +the turf fire, Dick prepared to depart. + +It would be vain to describe the feelings of rage and despair which +agitated the major's bosom, as he saw the party quit the hovel, +accompanied by Coates. Aware as he was of their destination, after one +or two desperate but ineffectual attempts to liberate himself, by which +he only increased the painful constriction of his bonds, without in the +slightest degree ameliorating his condition, he resigned himself, with +bitterest forebodings, to his fate. There was no one even to sympathize +with his sufferings. Beside him lay the gory corpse of the ferryman, +and, at a little distance, the scarcely more animate frame of the chief +constable. And here we must leave him, to follow, for a short space, the +course of Luke and his companions. + +Concerning themselves little about their own steeds, the party took +those which first offered, and embarking man and horse in the boat, soon +pushed across the waters of the lutulent Don. Arrived at the opposite +banks of the river, they mounted, and, guided by Luke, after half an +hour's sharp riding, arrived at the skirts of Rookwood Park. Entering +this beautiful sylvan domain, they rode for some time silently among the +trees, till they reached the knoll whence Luke beheld the hall on the +eventful night of his discovery of his mother's wedding ring. A few days +only had elapsed, but during that brief space what storms had swept over +his bosom--what ravages had they not made! He was then all ardor--all +impetuosity--all independence. The future presented a bright unclouded +prospect. Wealth, honors, and happiness apparently awaited him. It was +still the same exquisite scene, hushed, holy, tranquil--even solemn, as +upon that glorious night. The moon was out, silvering wood and water, +and shining on the white walls of the tranquil mansion. Nature was calm, +serene, peaceful as ever. Beneath the trees, he saw the bounding +deer--upon the water, the misty wreaths of vapor--all, all was dreamy, +delightful, soothing, all save his heart--_there_ was the +conflict--_there_ the change. Was it a troubled dream, with the dark +oppression of which he was struggling, or was it stern, waking, actual +life? That moment's review of his wild career was terrible. He saw to +what extremes his ungovernable passions had hurried him; he saw their +inevitable consequences; he saw also his own fate; but he rushed madly +on. + +He swept round the park, keeping under the covert of the wood, till he +arrived at the avenue leading to the mansion. The stems of the aged +limes gleamed silvery white in the moonshine. Luke drew in the rein +beneath one of the largest of the trees. + +"A branch has fallen," said he, as his grandsire joined him. + +"Ha!" exclaimed Alan, "a branch from that tree?" + +"It bodes ill to Ranulph," whispered Luke, "does it not?" + +"Perchance," muttered Alan. "'Tis a vast bough!" + +"We meet within an hour," said Luke, abruptly. + +"Within the tomb of our ancestry," replied Alan; "I will await you +there." + +And as he rode away, Alan murmured to himself the following verse from +one of his own ballads: + + But whether gale or calm prevail, or threatening cloud hath fled, + By hand of Fate, predestinate, a limb that tree will shed-- + A verdant bough, untouched, I trow, by axe or tempest's breath-- + To Rookwood's head an omen dread of fast approaching death. + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_HANDASSAH_ + + I have heard it rumored for these many years, + None of our family dies but there is seen + The shape of an old woman, which is given + By tradition to us to have been murthered + By her nephews for her riches. Such a figure + One night, as the prince sat up late at 's book, + Appeared to him; when, crying out for help, + The gentleman of his chamber found his Grace + All in a cold sweat, altered much in face + And language, since which apparition + He hath grown worse and worse, and much I fear + He cannot live. + + _Duchess of Malfy._ + + +In one of those large antique rooms, belonging to the suite of +apartments constituting the eastern wing of Rookwood Place--upon the +same night as that in which the events just detailed took place, and it +might be about the same time, sat Eleanor, and her new attendant, the +gipsy Handassah. The eyes of the former were fixed, with a mixture of +tenderness and pity, upon the lineaments of another lovely female +countenance, bearing a striking resemblance to her own, though +evidently, from its attire, and bygone costume, not intended for her, +depicted upon a tablet, and placed upon a raised frame. It was nigh the +witching hour of night. The room was sombre and dusky, partially +dismantled of its once flowing arras, and the lights set upon the table +feebly illumined its dreary extent. Tradition marked it out as the +chamber in which many of the hapless dames of Rookwood had expired; and +hence Superstition claimed it as her peculiar domain. The room was +reputed to be haunted, and had for a long space shared the fate of +haunted rooms--complete desertion. It was now tenanted by one too young, +too pure, to fear aught unearthly. Eleanor seemed, nevertheless, +affected by the profound melancholy of the picture upon which she gazed. +At length, Handassah observed her start, and avert her eye shudderingly +from the picture. + +"Take it hence," exclaimed Eleanor; "I have looked at that image of my +ancestors, till it has seemed endowed with life--till its eyes have +appeared to return my gaze, and weep. Remove it, Handassah." + +Handassah silently withdrew the tablet, placing it against the wall of +the chamber. + +"Not there--not there," cried Eleanor; "turn it with its face to the +wall. I cannot bear those eyes. And now come hither, girl--draw +nearer--for I know not what of sudden dread has crossed me. This was +_her_ room, Handassah--the chamber of my ancestress--of all the Ladies +Rookwood--where they say----Ha! did you not hear a noise?--a rustle in +the tapestry--a footstep near the wall? Why, you look as startled as I +look, wench; stay by me--I will not have you stir from my side--'twas +mere fancy." + +"No doubt, lady," said Handassah, with her eyes fixed upon the arras. + +"Hist!" exclaimed Eleanor, "there 'tis again." + +"'Tis nothing," replied Handassah. But her looks belied her words. + +"Well, I will command myself," said Eleanor, endeavoring to regain her +calmness; "but the thoughts of the Lady Eleanor--for _she_ was an +Eleanor like to me, Handassah--and ah! even more ill-fated and +unhappy--have brought a whole train of melancholy fancies into my mind. +I cannot banish them: nay, though painful to me, I recur to these images +of dread with a species of fascination, as if in their fate I +contemplated mine own. Not one, who hath wedded a Rookwood, but hath +rued it." + +"Yet you will wed one," said Handassah. + +"He is not like the rest," said Eleanor. + +"How know you that, lady?" asked Handassah. "His time may not yet be +come. See what to-morrow will bring forth." + +"You are averse to my marriage with Ranulph, Handassah." + +"I was Sybil's handmaid ere I was yours, lady. I bear in mind a solemn +compact with the dead, which this marriage will violate. You are +plighted by oath to another, if he should demand your hand." + +"But he has not demanded it." + +"Would you accept him were he to do so?" asked Handassah, suddenly. + +"I meant not that," replied Eleanor. "My oath is annulled." + +"Say not so, lady," cried Handassah--"'twas not for this that Sybil +spared your life. I love you, but I loved Sybil, and I would see her +dying behests complied with." + +"It may not be, Handassah," replied Eleanor. "Why, from a phantom sense +of honor, am I to sacrifice my whole existence to one who neither can +love me, nor whom I myself could love? Am I to wed this man because, in +her blind idolatry of him, Sybil enforced an oath upon me which I had no +power to resist, and which was mentally cancelled while taken? Recall +not the horrors of that dreadful cell--urge not the subject more. 'Tis +in the hope that I may be freed for ever from this persecution that I +have consented thus early to wed with Ranulph. This will set Luke's +fancied claims at rest for ever." + +Handassah answered not, but bent her head, as if in acquiescence. + +Steps were now heard near the door, and a servant ushered in Dr. Small +and Mrs. Mowbray. + +"I am come to take leave of you for the night, my dear young lady," said +the doctor; "but before I start for the Vicarage, I have a word or two +to say, in addition to the advice you were so obliging as to receive +from me this morning. Suppose you allow your attendant to retire for a +few minutes. What I have got to say concerns yourself solely. Your +mother will bear us company. There," continued the doctor, as Handassah +was dismissed--"I am glad that dark-faced gipsy has taken her departure. +I can't say I like her sharp suspicious manner, and the first exercise I +should make at my powers, were I to be your husband, should be to +discharge the handmaiden. To the point of my visit. We are alone, I +think. This is a queer old house, Miss Mowbray; and this is the queerest +part of it. Walls have ears, they say; and there are so many holes and +corners in this mansion, that one ought never to talk secrets above +one's breath." + +"I am yet to learn, sir," said Eleanor, "that there is any secret to be +communicated." + +"Why, not much, I own," replied the doctor; "at least what has occurred +is no secret in the house by this time. What do you think _has_ +happened?" + +"It is impossible for me to conjecture. Nothing to Ranulph, I hope." + +"Nothing of consequence, I trust,--though he is part concerned with it." + +"What is it?" asked Eleanor. + +"Pray satisfy her curiosity, doctor," interposed Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Well, then," said Small, rather more gravely, "the fact of the matter +stands thus:--Lady Rookwood, who, as you know, was not the meekest wife +in the world, now turns out by no means the gentlest mother, and has +within this hour found out that she has some objection to your union +with her son." + +"You alarm me, doctor." + +"Don't alarm yourself at all. It will be got over without difficulty, +and only requires a little management. Ranulph is with her now, and I +doubt not will arrange all to her satisfaction." + +"What was her objection?" asked Eleanor; "was it any one founded upon my +obligation to Luke--my oath?" + +"Tut, tut! dismiss that subject from your mind entirely," said the +doctor. "That oath is no more binding on your conscience than would have +been the ties of marriage had you been wedded by yon recusant Romish +priest, Father Checkley, upon whose guilty head the Lord be merciful! +Bestow not a thought upon it. My anxiety, together with that of your +mother, is to see you now, as speedily as may be, wedded to Ranulph, and +then that idle question is set at rest for ever; and therefore, even if +such a thing were to occur as that Lady Rookwood should not yield her +consent to your marriage, as that consent is totally unnecessary, we +must go through the ceremonial without it." + +"The grounds of Lady Rookwood's objections----" said Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Ay, the grounds of her ladyship's objections," interposed Small, who, +when he had once got the lead, liked nobody to talk but himself, "are +simply these, and exactly the sort of objections one would expect her to +raise. She cannot bear the idea of abandoning the control of the house +and estates to other hands. She cannot, and will not relinquish her +station, as head of the establishment, which Ranulph has insisted upon +as your right. I thought, when I conversed with her on this subject, +that she was changed, but + + Naturam expellas furcâ, tamen usque recurret. + +I beg your pardon. She is, and always will be, the same." + +"Why did not Ranulph concede the point to her? I wish not to dwell here. +I care not for these domains--for this mansion. They have no charms for +me. I could be happy with Ranulph anywhere--happier anywhere than +here." + +The kind-hearted doctor squeezed her hand in reply, brushing a tear from +his eyes. + +"Why did he not concede it?" said Mrs. Mowbray, proudly. "Because the +choice remained not with him. It was not his to concede. This +house--these lands--all--all are yours; and it were poor requital, +indeed, if, after they have so long been wrongfully withheld from us, +you should be a dependant on Lady Rookwood." + +"Without going quite so far as that, madam," said the doctor, "it is but +justice to your daughter that she should be put in full possession of +her rights; nor should I for one instant advise, or even allow her to +inhabit the same house with Lady Rookwood. Her ladyship's peculiarities +of temper are such as to preclude all possibility of happiness. At the +same time, I trust by management--always by management, madam--that her +ladyship's quiet departure may be ensured. I understand that all such +legal arrangements in the way of settlements as could be entered into +between your daughter and her future husband are completed. I have only +to regret the absence of my friend, Mr. Coates, at this momentous +conjuncture. It will be a loss to him. But he inherits from his father a +taste for thief-taking, which he is at present indulging, to the +manifest injury of his legitimate practice. Hark! I hear Ranulph's step +in the gallery. He will tell us the result of his final interview. I +came to give you advice, my dear," added the doctor in a low tone to +Eleanor; "but I find you need it not. 'Whoso humbleth himself, shall be +exalted.' I am glad you do not split upon the rock which has stranded +half your generation." + +At this moment Ranulph Rookwood entered the room, followed by Handassah, +who took her station at the back of the room, unperceived by the rest of +the party, whose attention was attracted by Ranulph's agitated manner. + +"What has happened?" asked Dr. Small and Mrs. Mowbray in the same +breath. + +Ranulph hesitated for a moment in his answer, during which space he +regarded Eleanor with the deepest anxiety, and seemed revolving within +himself how he could frame his reply in such way as should be least +painful to her feelings; while, with instinctive apprehension of coming +misfortune, Miss Mowbray eagerly seconded the inquiries of her friends. + +"It is with great pain," said he, at length, in a tone of despondency, +not unmingled with displeasure, "that I am obliged to descant upon the +infirmities of a parent, and to censure her conduct as severely as I may +do now. I feel the impropriety of such a step, and I would willingly +avoid it, could I do so in justice to my own feelings--and especially at +a moment like the present--when every hope of my life is fixed upon +uniting myself to you, dear Eleanor, by ties as near as my own to that +parent. But the interview which I have just had with Lady +Rookwood--bitter and heart-breaking as it has been--compels me to +reprobate her conduct in the strongest terms, as harsh, unjust, and +dishonorable; and if I could wholly throw off the son, as she avows she +has thrown off the mother, I should unhesitatingly pronounce it as +little short of----" + +"Dear Ranulph," said Eleanor, palpitating with apprehension, "I never +saw you so much moved." + +"Nor with so much reason," rejoined Ranulph. "For myself, I could endure +anything--but for _you_----" + +"And does your dispute relate to _me_?" asked Eleanor. "Is it for _my_ +sake you have braved your mother's displeasure? Is it because Lady +Rookwood is unwilling to resign the control of this house and these +lands to _me_, that you have parted in anger with her? Was this the +cause of your quarrel?" + +"It was the origin of it," replied Ranulph. + +"Mother," said Eleanor, firmly, to Mrs. Mowbray, "go with me to Lady +Rookwood's chamber." + +"Wherefore?" demanded Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Question me not, dear mother, or let me go alone." + +"Daughter, I guess your meaning," said Mrs. Mowbray, sternly. "You would +relinquish your claims in favor of Lady Rookwood. Is it not so?" + +"Since you oblige me to answer you, mother," said Eleanor, crimsoning, +"I must admit that you have guessed my meaning. To Lady Rookwood, as to +yourself, I would be a daughter as far as is consistent with my duty," +added she, blushing still more deeply, "but my first consideration shall +be my husband. And if Lady Rookwood can be content----But pray question +me not further--accompany me to her chamber." + +"Eleanor," interposed Ranulph, "dearest Eleanor, the sacrifice you would +make is unnecessary--uncalled for. You do not know my mother. She would +not, I grieve to say, appreciate the generosity of your motives. She +would not give you credit for your feelings. She would only resent your +visit as an intrusion." + +"My daughter comprehends you, sir," said Mrs. Mowbray, haughtily. "I +will take care that, in her own house, Miss Mowbray shall remain free +from insult." + +"Mother, dear mother," said Eleanor, "do not wilfully misunderstand +him." + +"You can be little aware, madam," said Ranulph, calmly, yet sadly, "how +much I have recently endured--how much of parental anger--how much of +parental malediction I have incurred, to save you and your daughter from +the indignity you apprehend. As I before said, you do not know my +mother; nor could it enter into any well-regulated imagination to +conceive the extremities to which the violence of her passion will, when +her schemes are thwarted, hurry her. The terms upon which you met +together will not escape your recollection; nor shall I need to recall +to your mind her haughtiness, her coldness. That coldness has since +ripened into distrust; and the match which she was at first all anxiety +to promote, she would now utterly set aside, were it in her power to do +so. Whence this alteration in her views has arisen, I have no means of +ascertaining; it is not my mother's custom to give a reason for her +actions, or her wishes: it is all-sufficient to express them. I have +perceived, as the time has drawn nigh for the fulfilment of my dearest +hopes, that her unwillingness has increased; until to-day, what had +hitherto been confined to hints, has been openly expressed, and absolute +objections raised. Such, however, is the peculiarity of her temper, that +I trusted, even at the eleventh hour, I should be able to work a change. +Alas! our last meeting was decisive. She commanded me to break off the +match. At once, and peremptorily, I refused. Pardon me, madam, pardon +me, dearest Eleanor, if I thus enter into particulars; it is absolutely +necessary I should be explicit. Enraged at my opposition to her wishes, +her fury became ungovernable. With appalling imprecations upon the +memory of my poor father, and upon _your_ father, madam, whose chief +offence in her eyes was, it seems, the disposition of his property to +Eleanor, she bade me be gone, and take her curses as my wedding portion. +Beneath this roof--beneath _her_ roof, she added--no marriage of mine +should e'er take place. I might go hence, or might stay, as I thought +fitting; but you and your daughter, whom she characterized as intruders, +should not remain another hour within her house. To this wild raving I +answered, with as much composure as I could command, that she entirely +mistook her own position, and that, so far from the odium of intrusion +resting with you, if applicable to any one, the term must necessarily +affix itself on those who, through ignorance, had for years unjustly +deprived the rightful owners of this place of their inheritance. Upon +this her wrath was boundless. She disowned me as her son; disclaimed all +maternal regard, and heaped upon my head a frightful malediction, at the +recollection of which I still tremble. I will spare you further details +of this dreadful scene. To me it is most distressing; for, however +firmly resolved I may be to pursue a line of conduct which every sound +principle within me dictates as the correct one, yet I cannot be +insensible to the awful responsibility I shall incur in bringing down a +mother's curse upon my head, nor to the jeopardy in which her own +excessive violence may place her." + +Mrs. Mowbray listened to Ranulph's explanation in haughty displeasure; +Eleanor with throbbing, tearful interest; Dr. Small, with mixed feelings +of anger and astonishment. + +"Lady Rookwood's conduct," said the doctor, "is--you must forgive me, my +dear Sir Ranulph, for using strong expressions--outrageous beyond all +precedent, and only excusable on the ground of insanity, to which I wish +it were possible we could attribute it. There is, however, too much +method in her madness to allow us to indulge any such notion; she is +shrewd, dangerous, and designing; and, since she has resolved to oppose +this match, she will leave no means untried to do so. I scarcely know +how to advise you under the circumstances--that is, if my advice were +asked." + +"Which I scarcely think it likely to be, sir," said Mrs. Mowbray, +coldly. "After what has occurred, _I_ shall think it my duty to break +off this alliance, which I have never considered to be so desirable that +its rupture will occasion me an instant's uneasiness." + +"A plague on all these Rookwoods!" muttered Small. "One would think all +the pride of the Prince of Darkness were centered in their bosoms. But, +madam," continued the benevolent doctor, "have you no consideration for +the feelings of your daughter, or for those of one who is no distant +relation to you--your nephew? Your son, Major Mowbray, is, if I mistake +not, most eager for this union to take place between his sister and his +friend." + +"My children have been accustomed to yield implicit obedience to my +wishes," said Mrs. Mowbray, "and Major Mowbray, I am sure, will see the +propriety of the step I am about to take. I am content, at least, to +abide by _his_ opinion." + +"Snubbed again!" mentally ejaculated the doctor, with a shrug of +despair. "It is useless attempting to work upon such impracticable +material." + +Ranulph remained mute, in an attitude of profound melancholy. An +eloquent interchange of glances had passed between him and Eleanor, +communicating to each the anxious state of the other's feelings. + +At this crisis the door was suddenly opened, and old Agnes, Lady +Rookwood's aged attendant, rushed into the room, and sank upon her knees +on the floor, her limbs shaking, her teeth chattering, and every feature +expressive of intense terror. Ranulph went instantly towards her to +demand the cause of her alarm. + +"No, let me pray," cried Agnes, as he took her hand in the attempt to +raise her; "let me pray while there is yet time--let the worthy doctor +pray beside me. Pray for an overladen soul, sir; pray heartily, as you +would hope for mercy yourself. Ah! little know the righteous of the +terrors of those that are beyond the pale of mercy. The Lord pardon me +my iniquities, and absolve _her_." + +"Whom do you mean?" asked Ranulph, in agitation. "You do not allude to +my mother?" + +"You have no longer a mother, young man," said Agnes, solemnly. + +"What!" exclaimed Ranulph, terror-stricken; "is she dead?" + +"She is gone." + +"Gone! How? Whither?" exclaimed all, their amazement increasing each +instant at the terror of the old woman, and the apparently terrible +occasion of it. + +"Speak!" exclaimed Ranulph; "but why do I loiter? my mother, perchance, +is dying--let me go." + +The old woman maintained her clutching grasp, which was strong and +convulsive as that of one struggling betwixt life and death. "It's of no +use, I tell you; it's all over," said she--"the dead are come--the dead +are come--and she is gone." + +"Whither?--whither?" + +"To the grave--to the tomb," said Agnes, in a deep and hollow tone, and +with a look that froze Ranulph's soul. "Listen to me, Ranulph Rookwood, +my child, my nursling--listen while I _can_ speak. We were alone, your +mother and I, after that scene between you; after the dark denunciations +she had heaped upon the dead, when I heard a low and gasping kind of +sob, and there I saw your mother staring wildly upon the vacancy, as if +she saw that of which I dare not think." + +"What think you she beheld?" asked Ranulph, quaking with apprehension. + +"That which had been your father," returned Agnes, in a hollow tone. +"Don't doubt me, sir--you'll find the truth of what I say anon. I am +sure he was there. There was a thrilling, speechless horror in the very +sight of her countenance that froze my old blood to ice--to the ice in +which 'tis now--ough! ough! Well, at length she arose, with her eyes +still fixed, and passed through the paneled door without a word. She is +gone!" + +"What madness is this?" cried Ranulph. "Let me go, woman--'tis that +ruffian in disguise--she may be murdered." + +"No, no," shrieked Agnes; "it was no disguise. She is gone, I tell +you--the room was empty, all the rooms were empty--the passage was +void--through the door they went together--silently, silently--ghostlike, +slow. Ha! that tomb--they are there together now--he has her in his +arms--see, they are here--they glide through the door--do you not see +them now? Did I not speak the truth? She is dead--ha, ha!" And with a +frantic and bewildering laugh the old woman fell upon her face. + +Ranulph raised her from the floor; but the shock of what she had beheld +had been too much for her. She was dead! + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_THE DOWER OF SYBIL_ + + _Card._ Now art thou come? Thou look'st ghastly; + There sits in thy face some great determination, + Mixed with some fear. + + _Bos._ Thus it lightens into action: + I am come to kill thee. + + _Duchess of Malfy._ + + +Ranulph Rookwood was for some moments so much stunned by the ghastly +fate of Agnes, connected, as it appeared to be, with a supernatural +summons similar to that which he imagined he had himself received, that +he was incapable of stirring from the spot, or removing his gaze from +the rigid features of the corpse, which, even in death, wore the strong +impress of horror and despair. Through life he knew that Agnes, his own +nurse, had been his mother's constant and faithful attendant; the +unhesitating agent of her schemes, and it was to be feared, from the +remorse she had exhibited, the participator of her crimes; and Ranulph +felt, he knew not why, that in having witnessed her terrible end, he +beheld the ultimate condition of his own parent. Conquering, not without +great effort, the horror which had riveted him to the spot, he turned to +look towards Eleanor. She had sunk upon a chair, a silent witness of the +scene, Mrs. Mowbray and Dr. Small having, upon the first alarm given by +Agnes respecting Lady Rookwood's departure from the house quitted the +room to ascertain the truth of her statement. Ranulph immediately flew +to Eleanor. + +"Ranulph," said she, though almost overcome by her alarm, "stay not an +instant here with me. I am sure, from that poor woman's dreadful death, +that something terrible has occurred, perhaps to Lady Rookwood. Go to +her chamber. Tarry not, I entreat of you." + +"But will you, can you remain here alone with that body?" asked Ranulph. + +"I shall not be alone. Handassah is within call--nay, she is here. Oh, +what an eve of our espousals has this been, dear Ranulph. Our whole life +is a troubled volume, of which each successive leaf grows darker. Fate +is opposed to us. It is useless to contend with our destiny. I fear we +shall never be united." + +"Dismiss me not with words like those, dear Eleanor," returned Ranulph. +"Fate cannot have greater woes in store for us than those by which we +are now opposed. Let us hope that we are now at that point whence all +must brighten. Once possessed of you, assured of thus much happiness, I +would set even fate at defiance. And you will be mine to-morrow." + +"Ranulph, dear Ranulph, your suit at this moment is desperate. I dare +not, cannot pledge myself. You yourself heard, even now, my mother's +sentiments, and I cannot marry without her consent." + +"Your mother, like my own, regards not the feelings of her children. +Forgive my boldness, Eleanor; forgive me if I linger now, when duty +calls me hence; but I cannot tear myself away. Your mother may +return--my hopes be crushed; for even your love for me seems annihilated +in her presence." + +"Ranulph, your vehemence terrifies me," rejoined Eleanor. "I implore +you, by the tender affection which you know I bear you, not to urge me +further at this moment. Recall your firmer feelings, and obtain some +mastery over yourself. I repeat, I am yours only, if I am bride of any +one. But when our union can take place rests not with myself. And now, I +entreat of you, leave me." + +"You are mine," said Ranulph, with fervor; "mine only." + +"Yours only," replied Eleanor. + +"Be this the earnest of my happiness!" exclaimed Ranulph, imprinting a +long and impassioned kiss upon her lips. + +The lovers were startled from their embrace by a profound sigh; it +proceeded from Handassah, who, unbidden, had replaced the picture of the +Lady Eleanor upon its frame. The augury seemed sinister. Every one who +has gazed steadfastly upon a portrait must have noticed the peculiar and +lifelike character which, under certain aspects, the eyes will assume. +Seen by the imperfect light upon the table, the whole character of the +countenance of the Lady Eleanor seemed changed; the features appeared to +be stamped with melancholy, and the eyes to be fixed with pitying +tenderness upon her descendants. Both gazed at each other and at the +picture, struck with the same sentiment of undefined awe. Beside them +stood the dark figure of the gipsy girl, watching, with ill-concealed +satisfaction, the effect of her handiwork. Ranulph was aroused from his +abstraction by hearing a loud outcry in Mrs. Mowbray's voice. Hastily +committing Eleanor to the care of her attendant, he left the room. +Handassah followed him to the door, closed it after him, and then locked +it within side. This done, she walked back hastily towards Eleanor, +exclaiming, in a tone of exultation, "You have parted with him forever." + +"What mean you, girl?" cried Eleanor, alarmed at her manner. "Why have +you fastened the door? Open it, I command you." + +"Command _me_!" laughed Handassah, scornfully. "What if I refuse your +mandate? What, if, in my turn, I bid _you_ obey _me_? I never owned but +one mistress. If I have bowed my neck to you for a time, 'twas to fulfil +her dying wishes. If I have submitted to your control, it was to +accomplish what I have now accomplished. Your oath! Remember your oath. +The hour is come for its fulfilment." + +With these words Handassah clapped her hands. A panel in the wall +opened, and Luke stood suddenly before them. Silently and with stern +deliberation he strode towards Eleanor, and seizing one of her hands, +drew her forcibly towards him. Eleanor resisted not; she had not the +power; neither did she scream, for so paralyzing was her terror, that +for the moment it took away all power of utterance. Luke neither stirred +nor spoke, but, still maintaining his hold, gazed searchingly upon her +features, while Eleanor, as if spell-bound, could not withdraw her eyes +from him. Nothing more terribly impressive could be conceived than +Luke's whole appearance. Harassed and exhausted by the life he had +recently led; deprived almost of natural rest; goaded by remorse, his +frame was almost worn to the bone, while his countenance, once dark and +swarthy, was now blanched and colorless as marble. This pallid and +deathlike hue was, in all probability, owing to the loss of blood he had +sustained from the wound inflicted by Major Mowbray, with the stains of +which his apparel was dyed; for, though staunched, the effusion had been +sufficient to cause great faintness. His dark eyes blazed with their +wonted fire--nay, they looked darker and larger from his exceeding +paleness, and such intense mental and bodily suffering was imprinted +upon his countenance, that, despite its fierceness and desperation, few +could have regarded him without sympathy. Real desperation has so much +of agony in its character, that no one can witness it unmoved. His garb +was not that in which the reader first beheld him, but a rich, dark, +simple suit of velvet, corresponding more with his real rank in life +than his former peasant's attire; but it was disordered by his recent +conflict, and stained with bloody testimonials of the fray; while his +long, sable curls, once his pride and ornament, now hung in intertangled +elf-locks, like a coil of wreathed water-snakes. Even in her terror, as +she dwelt upon his noble features, Eleanor could not help admitting that +she beheld the undoubted descendant, and the living likeness of the +handsomest and most distinguished of her house--the profligate and +criminal Sir Reginald. As her eye, mechanically following this train of +thought, wandered for an instant to the haughty portraiture of Sir +Reginald, which formed part of the family pictures, and thence to those +of his unfortunate lady, she was struck with the fancy that, by some +terrible fatality, the tragic horrors of bygone days were to be again +enacted in their persons, and that they were in some way strangely +identified with their unfortunate progenitors. So forcibly was this idea +impressed upon her features that Luke, who had followed the direction of +her glances, became instantly aware of it. Drawing her nearer to the +portrait of the Lady Eleanor, he traced the resemblance in mute wonder; +thence, turning towards that of Sir Reginald, he proudly exclaimed: "You +doubted once my lineage, maiden--can you gaze on those features, which +would almost seem to be a reflection of mine own, and longer hesitate +whose descendant I am? I glory in my likeness. There is a wild delight +in setting human emotions at naught, which he was said to feel--which I +feel now. Within these halls I seem to breathe an atmosphere congenial +to me. I visit what I oft have visited in my dreams; or as in a state of +pre-existence. Methinks, as I gaze on you, I could almost deem myself +Sir Reginald, and you his bride, the Lady Eleanor. Our fates were +parallel: _she_ was united to her lord by ties of hatred--by a _vow_--_a +bridal vow_! So are you to me. And she could ne'er escape him--could +ne'er throw off her bondage--nor shall you. I claim the fulfilment of +_your_ oath; you are _mine_." + +"Never, never!" shrieked Eleanor, struggling to disengage herself. But +Luke laughed at her feeble efforts. Handassah stood by, a passive +spectatress of the scene, with her arms folded upon her bosom. + +"You refuse compliance," said Luke, scornfully. "Have you no hopes of +Heaven, no fears of perdition, that you dare to violate your vow? +Bethink you of the awful nature of that obligation; of the life that was +laid down to purchase it; of the blood which will cry out for vengeance +'gainst the _murderess_, should you hesitate. By that blood-cemented +sacrament, I claim you as my own. You are mine." And he dragged her +towards the opening. + +Eleanor uttered a long and terrific scream. + +"Be silent, on your life," added he, searching for the dagger given to +him by Alan Rookwood, when, as his hand sought the weapon, Eleanor +escaped from his grasp, and fled towards the door. But Handassah had +anticipated her intention. The key was withdrawn from the lock, and the +wretched maiden vainly tried to open it. + +At this instant Turpin appeared at the sliding panel. + +"Quick, quick!" cried he, impatiently--"despatch, in the devil's name. +The house is alarmed. I hear young Ranulph's voice in the gallery." + +"Ranulph!" shrieked Eleanor--"then I am saved," and she redoubled her +outcries for assistance. + +Luke again seized his victim. Her hands clutched so convulsively fast in +her despairing energy against the handle of the door that he could not +tear her thence. By this time Ranulph Rookwood, who had caught her +reiterated screams for help, was at the entrance. He heard her +struggles; he heard Luke's threats--his mockery--his derisive +laughter--but vainly, vainly did he attempt to force it open. It was of +the strongest oak, and the bolts resisted all his efforts. A board alone +divided him from his mistress. He could hear her sobs and gasps. He saw, +from the action of the handle, with what tenacity she clung to it; and, +stung to frenzy by the sight, he hurled himself against the sturdy +plank, but all in vain. At length the handle was still. There was a +heavy fall upon the floor--a stifled scream--and a sound as of a body +being dragged along. The thought was madness. + +"To the panel! to the panel!" cried a voice--it was that of Turpin--from +within. + +"The panel!--ha!" echoed Ranulph, with a sudden gleam of hope. "I may +yet save her." And he darted along the corridor with the swiftness of +thought. + +Luke, meanwhile, had for some minutes fruitlessly exhausted all his +force to drag Eleanor from the door. Despair gave her strength; she +clutched at the door; but she felt her strength failing her--her grasp +was relaxing. And then the maddening thought that she would be shortly +his--that he would slay her--while the idea that Ranulph was so near, +and yet unable to protect her, added gall even to her bitterness. With +savage delight Luke exulted in the lovers' tortures. He heard Ranulph's +ineffectual attempts; he heard his groans; he heard their mutual cries. +Inflamed by jealousy, he triumphed in his power of vengeance, and even +prolonged the torture which accident had given him the means of +inflicting. He stood like the inquisitor who marks his victim's anguish +on the rack, and calculates his powers of further endurance. But he +could no longer dally, even with this horrible gratification. His +companion grew impatient. Eleanor's fair long tresses had escaped from +their confinement in the struggle, and fell down her neck in disorder. +Twining his fingers amidst its folds, Luke dragged her backwards from +her hold, and, incapable of further resistance, her strength completely +exhausted, the wretched girl fell to the ground. + +Luke now raised her almost inanimate form in his arms, and had nigh +reached the aperture, when a crash was heard in the panel opposite to +that by which he was about to escape, and communicating with a further +apartment. It was thrown open, and Ranulph Rookwood presented himself at +the narrow partition. An exclamation of joy, that he was yet in time, +escaped his lips; and he was about to clear the partition at a bound, +and to precipitate himself upon Luke, when, as suddenly as his own +action, was the person of the unfortunate Mr. Coates wedged into the +aperture. + +"Traitor!" cried Ranulph, regarding Coates with concentrated fury, "dare +you to oppose me?--hence! or, by Heaven, I will cut you down!" + +"'Tis impossible," ejaculated the attorney. "For your own sake, Sir +Ranulph--for my sake--I entreat--implore of you--not to attempt to pass +this way. Try the other door." + +Ranulph said no more. He passed his sword through the body of the +miserable attorney, who, with a deep groan, fell. The only obstacle to +his passage being thus removed, he at once leaped into the room. + +The brothers were now confronted, together, but little of brotherly love +mingled with the glances which they threw upon each other. Ranulph's +gentle, but withal enthusiastic temperament, had kindled, under his +present excitement, like flax at the sudden approach of flame. He was +wild with frenzy. Luke was calmer, but his fury was deadly and +inextinguishable. The meeting was terrible on both sides. + +With one arm Luke enfolded Eleanor, with the other he uplifted the +dagger. Its point was towards her bosom. Scowling grim defiance at +Ranulph, he exclaimed, in a determined tone, "Advance a footstep, and my +dagger descends into her heart." + +Ranulph hesitated, uncertain how to act; foaming with rage, yet +trembling with apprehension. + +"Ranulph," gasped Eleanor, "life without you were valueless. +Advance--avenge me!" + +Ranulph still hesitated. He could not, by any act of his own, compromise +Eleanor's safety. + +Luke saw his advantage, and was not slow to profit by it. "You seal her +destruction if you stir," said he. + +"Villain," returned Ranulph, between his ground teeth, and with +difficulty commanding sufficient coolness to speak with deliberation, +"you perceive your power. Injure her, and nothing earthly shall protect +you. Free her, and take your life and liberty; nay, reward if you will. +You cannot otherwise escape me." + +"Escape you!" laughed Luke, disdainfully. "Stand aside, and let me pass. +Beware," added he, sternly, "how you oppose me. I would not have a +brother's blood upon my soul." + +"Nor I," cried Ranulph; "but you pass not." And he placed himself full +in Luke's path. + +Luke, however, steadily moved forward, holding Eleanor between himself +and Ranulph, so as to shield his own person; but, fancying he saw an +opportunity of dealing a blow without injury to his mistress, the latter +was about to hazard the thrust, when his arms were seized behind, and he +was rendered powerless. + +"Lost, lost," groaned he; "she is lost to me forever!" + +"I fear that's but too true," said Turpin, for it was the highwayman +whose grasp confined Ranulph. + +"Must I see her borne away before my eyes?" cried Ranulph. "Release +me--set me free!" + +"Quite impossible at present," returned Dick. "Mount and away, Sir +Luke," continued he; "never mind me. Leave me to shift for myself." + +"Eleanor!" cried Ranulph, as she passed close by his side. + +"Ranulph!" shrieked Eleanor, with a loud scream, recalled to +consciousness by his voice, "farewell for ever." + +"Ay, for ever," responded Luke, triumphantly. "You meet no more on +earth." + +He was about to pass through the panel, when Eleanor exerted all her +remaining strength in a last futile attempt at liberation. In the +struggle, a packet fell from Luke's bosom. + +Handassah stooped to pick it up. + +"From Sybil!" exclaimed she, glancing at the superscription. + +"Remember my promise to old Barbara," roared Dick, who had some +curiosity, as the reader knows, to learn what the package contained. +"The time is arrived. Eleanor is in your power--in your presence." + +"Give me the packet," said Luke, resigning Eleanor for the instant to +Handassah's custody--"take the steel, and grasp her firmly." + +Handassah, who, though slight of figure, was of singular personal +strength, twined her arms about Miss Mowbray in such a manner as to +preclude all possibility of motion. + +Luke tore open the package. It was a box carefully enclosed in several +folds of linen, and lastly within a sheet of paper, on which were +inscribed these words: + + THE DOWER OF SYBIL + +Hastily, and with much curiosity, Luke raised the lid of the box. It +contained one long silken tress of blackest hair enviously braided. It +was Sybil's. His first impulse was to cast it from him; his next, +reproachfully to raise it to his lips. He started as if a snake had +stung him. + +At this moment a loud clamor was heard in the gallery. In the next, the +door was assailed by violent strokes, evidently proceeding from some +weighty instrument, impelled by the united strength of several +assailants. + +The voice of Turpin rose above the deafening din. "A bullet for the +first who enters," shouted he. "Quick, Sir Luke, and the prize is +safe--away, and----" + +But as he seconded his exhortation with a glance at Luke, he broke off +the half-uttered sentence, and started with horror and amazement. Ere +the cause of his alarm could be expressed, the door was burst open, and +a crowd of domestics, headed by Major Mowbray and Titus Tyrconnel, +rushed into the room. + +"Nay, then, the game's up!" exclaimed Dick; "I have done with Rookwood." +And, springing through the panel, he was seen no more. + +When the newcomers first looked round, they could perceive only two +figures besides themselves--those of the two lovers--Eleanor having +sunk pale, exhausted, and almost senseless, into the arms of Ranulph. +Presently, however, a ghastly object attracted their attention. All +rushed towards it--all recoiled, as soon as they discovered that it was +the lifeless body of Luke Rookwood. His limbs were stiff, like those of +a corpse which has for hours been such; his eyes protruded from their +sockets; his face was livid and blotched. All bespoke, with terrible +certainty, the efficacy of the poison, and the full accomplishment of +Barbara's revenge. + +Handassah was gone. Probably she had escaped ere Turpin fled. At all +events, she was heard of no more at Rookwood. + +It required little to recall the senses of Eleanor. Shortly she revived, +and as she gazed around, and became conscious of her escape, she uttered +exclamations of thanksgiving, and sank into the embraces of her brother. + +Meanwhile, Mrs. Mowbray and Dr. Small had joined the assemblage. + +The worthy doctor had been full of alarm; but his meditated condolences +were now changed to congratulations, as he heard the particulars of the +terrible scene that had occurred, and of Eleanor's singular and almost +providential deliverance. + +"After what has befallen, madam," said the doctor to Mrs. Mowbray, +slightly coughing, "you can no longer raise any objection to a certain +union, eh?" + +"I will answer for my mother in that particular," said Major Mowbray, +stepping forward. + +"She will answer for herself, my son," said Mrs. Mowbray. "The match has +her full and entire consent. But to what am I to attribute the +unexpected happiness of your return?" + +"To a chain of singular circumstances," replied the Major, "which I will +hereafter detail to you. Suffice it to say, that but for this +gentleman's fortunate arrival," added he, looking at Titus Tyrconnel, +"at the hut on Thorne Waste, I might have been detained a prisoner, +without _parole_, and, what is worse, without provision perhaps for +days; and to add to my distress, fully acquainted with the meditated +abduction of my sister. It was excessively lucky for me, Mr. Tyrconnel, +that you happened to pass that way, and for poor Paterson likewise." + +"Arrah, by my sowl, major, and you may say that with safety; and it was +particularly fortunate that we stumbled upon the tits in the cellar, or +we'd never have been here just in the nick of it. I begin to think we've +lost all chance of taking Dick Turpin this time. He's got clean away." + +"I am not sorry for his escape," said the major. "He's a brave fellow; +and I respect courage wherever I find it, even in a highwayman. I should +be sorry to appear as a witness against him; and I trust it will never +be my fate to do so." + +We shall not pause to describe the affectionate meeting which now ensued +between the brother and sister--the congratulations upon Eleanor's +escape from peril, intermingled with the tenderest embraces, and the +warmest thanks offered to Ranulph for his gallant service. "She is +yours, my dear boy," said the major; "and though you are a Rookwood, and +she bears the ill-fated name of Eleanor, I predict that, contrary to the +usual custom of our families in such cases, all your misfortunes will +have occurred _before_ marriage." + +"There is only one thing," said Small, with a very peculiar expression, +which might almost be construed into serio-comic, could we suspect the +benevolent doctor of any such waggery, "that can possibly throw a shade +over our present felicity. Lady Rookwood is not to be found." + +"My poor mother," said Ranulph, starting. + +"Make yourself easy," said the doctor; "I doubt not we shall hear of her +to-morrow. My only apprehension," added he, half aside, "is, that she +may be heard of before." + +"One other circumstance afflicts me," said Ranulph. "Poor Mr. Coates!" + +"What's that you say of Mr. Coates, Sir Ranulph?" exclaimed Titus. + +"I fear he was killed in the recent affray," said Ranulph. "Let some one +search for the body." + +"Kilt!" echoed Titus. "Is it kilt that Mr. Coates is? Ah! _ullagone_, +and is it over with him entirely? Is he gone to rejoin his father, the +thief-taker? Bring me to his remains." + +"He will bring them to you himself," said the attorney, stepping +forward. "Luckily, Sir Ranulph," said the incurable punster, "it was +merely the _outer coats_ that your sword passed through; the _inner_ +remains uninjured, so that you did not act as my _conveyancer_ to +eternity. Body o' me! I've as many lives as a cat--ha, ha!" + +Ranulph welcomed the facetious man of law with no little satisfaction. + +We think it unnecessary to enter into further detail. Another chamber +was prepared for Eleanor's reception, to which she was almost +immediately transported. The remains of the once fierce and haughty +Luke, now stiff and stark, but still wearing, even in death, their proud +character, were placed upon the self-same bier, and covered with the +self-same pall which, but a week ago, had furnished forth his father's +funeral. And as the domestics crowded round the corpse, there was not +one of them but commented upon his startling resemblance to his +grandsire, Sir Reginald; nor, amongst the superstitious, was the falling +of the fatal bough forgotten. + +Tranquillity was at length restored at the hall. Throughout the night +and during the next day, Ranulph made every search for his mother, but +no tidings could be learned of her. Seriously alarmed, he then caused +more strict and general inquiry to be instituted, but with like +unsuccessful effect. It was not, indeed, till some years afterwards that +her fate was ascertained. + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_THE SARCOPHAGUS_ + + So now 'tis ended, like an old wife's story.--WEBSTER. + + +Notwithstanding the obscurity which hung over the fate of Lady Rookwood, +the celebration of the nuptials of Sir Ranulph and Eleanor was not long +delayed; the ceremony took place at the parish church, and the worthy +vicar officiated upon the occasion. It was a joyous sight to all who +witnessed it, and not few were they who did so, for the whole +neighborhood was bidden to the festival. The old avenue was thronged +with bright and beaming faces, rustic maidens decked out in ribbons of +many-colored splendor, and stout youths in their best holiday trim; nor +was the lusty yeoman and his buxom spouse--nor yet the patriarch of the +village, nor prattling child, wanting. Even the ancestral rooks seemed +to participate in the universal merriment, and returned, from their +eyries, a hoarse greeting, like a lusty chorus of laughter, to the +frolic train. The churchyard path was strewn with flowers--the church +itself a complete garland. Never was there seen a blither wedding: the +sun smiled upon the bride--accounted a fortunate omen, as dark lowering +skies and stormy weather had, within the memory of the oldest of the +tenantry, inauspiciously ushered in all former espousals. The bride had +recovered her bloom and beauty, while the melancholy which had seemingly +settled for ever upon the open brow of the bridegroom, had now given +place to a pensive shade that only added interest to his expressive +features; and, as in simple state, after the completion of the sacred +rites, the youthful pair walked, arm in arm, amongst their thronging and +admiring tenants towards the Hall, many a fervent prayer was breathed +that the curse of the house of Rookwood might be averted from their +heads; and, not to leave a doubt upon the subject, we can add that these +aspirations were not in vain, but that the day, which dawned so +brightly, was one of serene and unclouded happiness to its close. + +After the ceremonial, the day was devoted to festivity. Crowded with +company, from the ample hall to the kitchen ingle, the old mansion could +scarce contain its numerous guests, while the walls resounded with +hearty peals of laughter, to which they had been long unaccustomed. The +tables groaned beneath the lordly baron of beef, the weighty chine, the +castled pasty flanked on the one hand with neat's tongue, and on the +other defended by a mountainous ham, an excellent _pièce de résistance_, +and every other substantial appliance of ancient hospitality. Barrels of +mighty ale were broached, and their nut-brown contents widely +distributed, and the health of the bride and bridegroom was +enthusiastically drunk in a brimming wassail cup of spicy wine with +floating toast. Titus Tyrconnel acted as master of the ceremonies, and +was, Mr. Coates declared, "_quite in his element_." So much was he +elated, that he ventured to cut some of his old jokes upon the vicar, +and, strange to say, without incurring the resentment of Small. + +To retrace the darker course of our narrative, we must state that some +weeks before this happy event the remains of the unfortunate Sir Luke +Rookwood had been gathered to those of his fathers. The document that +attested his legitimacy being found upon his person, the claims denied +to him in life were conceded in death; and he was interred, with all the +pomp and peculiar solemnity proper to one of the house, within the tomb +of his ancestry. + +It was then that a discovery was made respecting Alan Rookwood, in order +to explain which we must again revert to the night of the meditated +_enlèvement_ of Eleanor. + +After quitting his grandson in the avenue, Alan shaped his course among +the fields in the direction to the church. He sought his own humble, +but now deserted dwelling. The door had been forced; some of its meagre +furniture was removed; and the dog, his sole companion, had fled. "Poor +Mole!" said he, "thou hast found, I trust, a better master." And having +possessed himself of what he came in search--namely, a bunch of keys and +his lantern, deposited in an out-of-the-way cupboard, that had escaped +notice, he quickly departed. + +He was once more within the churchyard; once more upon that awful stage +whereon he had chosen to enact, for a long season, his late fantastical +character; and he gazed upon the church tower, glistening in the +moonshine, the green and undulating hillocks, the "chequered +cross-sticks," the clustered headstones, and the black and portentous +yew-trees, as upon "old familiar faces." He mused, for a few moments, +upon the scene, apparently with deep interest. He then walked beneath +the shadows of one of the yews, chanting an odd stanza or so of one of +his wild staves, wrapped the while, it would seem, in affectionate +contemplation of the subject-matter of his song: + + THE CHURCHYARD YEW + + ---- Metuendaque succo + Taxus. + + STATIUS. + + A noxious tree is the churchyard yew, + As if from the dead its sap it drew; + Dark are its branches, and dismal to see, + Like plumes at Death's latest solemnity. + Spectral and jagged, and black as the wings + Which some spirit of ill o'er a sepulchre flings: + Oh! a terrible tree is the churchyard yew; + Like it is nothing so grimly to view. + + Yet this baleful tree hath a core so sound, + Can nought so tough in the grove be found; + From it were fashioned brave English bows, + The boast of our isle, and the dread of its foes. + For our sturdy sires cut their stoutest staves + From the branch that hung o'er their fathers' graves; + And though it be dreary and dismal to view, + Staunch at the heart is the churchyard yew. + +His ditty concluded, Alan entered the churchyard, taking care to leave +the door slightly ajar, in order to facilitate his grandson's entrance. +For an instant he lingered in the chancel. The yellow moonlight fell +upon the monuments of his race; and, directed by the instinct of hate, +Alan's eye rested upon the gilded entablature of his perfidious brother, +Reginald, and, muttering curses, "not loud but deep," he passed on. +Having lighted his lantern in no tranquil mood, he descended into the +vault, observing a similar caution with respect to the portal of the +cemetery, which he left partially unclosed, with the key in the lock. +Here he resolved to abide Luke's coming. The reader knows what +probability there was of his expectations being realized. + +For a while he paced the tomb, wrapped in gloomy meditation, and +pondering, it might be, upon the result of Luke's expedition, and the +fulfilment of his own dark schemes, scowling from time to time beneath +his bent eyebrows, counting the grim array of coffins, and noticing, +with something like satisfaction, that the shell which contained the +remains of his daughter had been restored to its former position. He +then bethought him of Father Checkley's midnight intrusion upon his +conference with Luke, and their apprehension of a supernatural +visitation, and his curiosity was stimulated to ascertain by what means +the priest had gained admission to the spot unperceived and unheard. He +resolved to sound the floor, and see whether any secret entrance +existed; and hollowly and dully did the hard flagging return the stroke +of his heel as he pursued his scrutiny. At length the metallic ringing +of an iron plate, immediately behind the marble effigy of Sir Ranulph, +resolved the point. There it was that the priest had found access to +the vault; but Alan's disappointment was excessive, when he discovered +that the plate was fastened on the underside, and all communication +thence with the churchyard, or to wherever else it might conduct him, +cut off: but the present was not the season for further investigation, +and tolerably pleased with the discovery he had already made, he +returned to his silent march round the sepulchre. + +At length a sound, like the sudden shutting of the church door, broke +upon the profound stillness of the holy edifice. In the hush that +succeeded, a footstep was distinctly heard threading the aisle. + +"He comes--he comes!" exclaimed Alan, joyfully; adding, an instant +after, in an altered voice, "but he comes alone." + +The footstep drew near to the mouth of the vault--it was upon the +stairs. Alan stepped forward to greet, as he supposed, his grandson, but +started back in astonishment and dismay as he encountered in his stead +Lady Rookwood. Alan retreated, while the lady advanced, swinging the +iron door after her, which closed with a tremendous clang. Approaching +the statue of the first Sir Ranulph, she paused, and Alan then remarked +the singular and terrible expression of her eyes, which appeared to be +fixed upon the statue, or upon some invisible object near it. There was +something in her whole attitude and manner calculated to impress the +deepest terror on the beholder. And Alan gazed upon her with an awe +which momently increased. Lady Rookwood's bearing was as proud and erect +as we have formerly described it to have been--her brow was haughtily +bent--her chiselled lip as disdainfully curled; but the staring, +changeless eye, and the deep-heaved sob which occasionally escaped her, +betrayed how much she was under the influence of mortal terror. Alan +watched her in amazement. He knew not how the scene was likely to +terminate, nor what could have induced her to visit this ghostly spot at +such an hour, and alone; but he resolved to abide the issue in +silence--profound as her own. After a time, however, his impatience got +the better of his fears and scruples, and he spoke. + +"What doth Lady Rookwood in the abode of the dead?" asked he, at length. + +She started at the sound of his voice, but still kept her eye fixed upon +the vacancy. + +"Hast thou not beckoned me hither, and am I not come?" returned she, in +a hollow tone. "And now thou asketh wherefore I am here--I am here +because, as in thy life I feared thee not, neither in death do I fear +thee. I am here because----" + +"What seest thou?" interrupted Peter, with ill-suppressed terror. + +"What see I--ha--ha!" shouted Lady Rookwood, amidst discordant laughter; +"that which might appal a heart less stout than mine--a figure +anguish-writhen, with veins that glow as with a subtle and consuming +flame. A substance yet a shadow, in thy living likeness. Ha--frown if +thou wilt; I can return thy glances." + +"Where dost thou see this vision?" demanded Alan. + +"Where!" echoed Lady Rookwood, becoming for the first time sensible of +the presence of a stranger. "Ha--who are you that question me?--what are +you?--speak!" + +"No matter who or what I am," returned Alan, "I ask you what you +behold." + +"Can you see nothing?" + +"Nothing," replied Alan. + +"You knew Sir Piers Rookwood?" + +"Is it he?" asked Alan, drawing near her. + +"It is," replied Lady Rookwood; "I have followed him hither, and I will +follow him whithersoever he leads me, were it to----" + +"What doth he now?" asked Alan; "do you see him still?" + +"The figure points to that sarcophagus," returned Lady Rookwood--"can +you raise up the lid?" + +"No," replied Alan; "my strength will not avail to lift it." + +"Yet let the trial be made," said Lady Rookwood; "the figure points +there still--my own arm shall aid you." + +Alan watched her in dumb wonder. She advanced towards the marble +monument, and beckoned him to follow. He reluctantly complied. Without +any expectation of being able to move the ponderous lid of the +sarcophagus, at Lady Rookwood's renewed request he applied himself to +the task. What was his surprise, when, beneath their united efforts, he +found the ponderous slab slowly revolve upon its vast hinges, and, with +little further difficulty, it was completely elevated; though it still +required the exertion of all Alan's strength to prop it open, and +prevent its falling back. + +"What does it contain?" asked Lady Rookwood. + +"A warrior's ashes," returned Alan. + +"There is a rusty dagger upon a fold of faded linen," cried Lady +Rookwood, holding down the light. + +"It is the weapon with which the first dame of the house of Rookwood was +stabbed," said Alan, with a grim smile: + + "Which whoso findeth in the tomb + Shall clutch until the hour of doom; + And when 'tis grasped by hand of clay, + The curse of blood shall pass away. + +So saith the rhyme. Have you seen enough?" + +"No," said Lady Rookwood, precipitating herself into the marble coffin. +"That weapon shall be mine." + +"Come forth--come forth," cried Alan. "My arm trembles--I cannot support +the lid." + +"I will have it, though I grasp it to eternity," shrieked Lady Rookwood, +vainly endeavoring to wrest away the dagger, which was fastened, +together with the linen upon which it lay, by some adhesive substance +to the bottom of the shell. + +At this moment Alan Rookwood happened to cast his eye upward, and he +then beheld what filled him with new terror. The axe of the sable statue +was poised above its head, as in the act to strike him. Some secret +machinery, it was evident, existed between the sarcophagus lid and this +mysterious image. But in the first impulse of his alarm Alan abandoned +his hold of the slab, and it sunk slowly downwards. He uttered a loud +cry as it moved. Lady Rookwood heard this cry. She raised herself at the +same moment--the dagger was in her hand--she pressed it against the lid, +but its downward force was too great to be withstood. The light was +within the sarcophagus, and Alan could discern her features. The +expression was terrible. She uttered one shriek and the lid closed for +ever. + +Alan was in total darkness. The light had been enclosed with Lady +Rookwood. There was something so horrible in her probable fate, that +even _he_ shuddered as he thought upon it. Exerting all his remaining +strength, he essayed to raise the lid, but now it was more firmly closed +than ever. It defied all his power. Once, for an instant, he fancied +that it yielded to his straining sinews, but it was only his hand that +slided upon the surface of the marble. It was fixed--immovable. The +sides and lid rang with the strokes which the unfortunate lady bestowed +upon them with the dagger's point; but those sounds were not long heard. +Presently all was still; the marble ceased to vibrate with her blows. +Alan struck the lid with his knuckles, but no response was returned. All +was silent. + +He now turned his attention to his own situation, which had become +sufficiently alarming. An hour must have elapsed, yet Luke had not +arrived. The door of the vault was closed--the key was in the lock, and +on the outside. He was himself a prisoner within the tomb. What if Luke +should _not_ return? What if he were slain, as it might chance, in the +enterprise? That thought flashed across his brain like an electric +shock. None knew of his retreat but his grandson. He might perish of +famine within this desolate vault. + +He checked this notion as soon as it was formed--it was too dreadful to +be indulged in. A thousand circumstances might conspire to detain Luke. +He was sure to come. Yet the solitude--the darkness was awful, almost +intolerable. The dying and the dead were around him. He dared not stir. + +Another hour--an age it seemed to him--had passed. Still Luke came not. +Horrible forebodings crossed him; but he would not surrender himself to +them. He rose, and crawled in the direction, as he supposed, of the +door--fearful, even of the stealthy sound of his own footsteps. He +reached it, and his heart once more throbbed with hope. He bent his ear +to the key; he drew in his breath; he listened for some sound, but +nothing was to be heard. A groan would have been almost music in his +ears. + +Another hour was gone! He was now a prey to the most frightful +apprehensions, agitated in turns by the wildest emotions of rage and +terror. He at one moment imagined that Luke had abandoned him, and +heaped curses upon his head; at the next, convinced that he had fallen, +he bewailed with equal bitterness his grandson's fate and his own. He +paced the tomb like one distracted; he stamped upon the iron plate; he +smote with his hands upon the door; he shouted, and the vault hollowly +echoed his lamentations. But Time's sand ran on, and Luke arrived not. + +Alan now abandoned himself wholly to despair. He could no longer +anticipate his grandson's coming, no longer hope for deliverance. His +fate was sealed. Death awaited him. He must anticipate his slow but +inevitable stroke, enduring all the grinding horrors of starvation. The +contemplation of such an end was madness, but he was forced to +contemplate it now; and so appalling did it appear to his imagination, +that he half resolved to dash out his brains against the walls of the +sepulchre, and put an end at once to his tortures; and nothing, except a +doubt whether he might not, by imperfectly accomplishing his purpose, +increase his own suffering, prevented him from putting this dreadful +idea into execution. His dagger was gone, and he had no other weapon. +Terrors of a new kind now assailed him. The dead, he fancied, were +bursting from their coffins, and he peopled the darkness with grisly +phantoms. They were around about him on each side, whirling and +rustling, gibbering, groaning, shrieking, laughing, and lamenting. He +was stunned, stifled. The air seemed to grow suffocating, pestilential; +the wild laughter was redoubled; the horrible troop assailed him; they +dragged him along the tomb, and amid their howls he fell, and became +insensible. + +When he returned to himself, it was some time before he could collect +his scattered faculties; and when the agonizing consciousness of his +terrible situation forced itself upon his mind, he had nigh relapsed +into oblivion. He arose. He rushed towards the door; he knocked against +it with his knuckles till the blood streamed from them; he scratched +against it with his nails till they were torn off by the roots. With +insane fury he hurled himself against the iron frame; it was in vain. +Again he had recourse to the trap-door. He searched for it; he found it. +He laid himself upon the ground. There was no interval of space in which +he could insert a finger's point. He beat it with his clenched hand; he +tore it with his teeth; he jumped upon it; he smote it with his heel. +The iron returned a sullen sound. + +He again essayed the lid of the sarcophagus. Despair nerved his +strength. He raised the slab a few inches. He shouted, screamed, but no +answer was returned; and again the lid fell. + +"She is dead!" cried Alan. "Why have I not shared her fate? But mine is +to come. And such a death!--oh, oh!" And, frenzied at the thought, he +again hurried to the door, and renewed his fruitless attempts to +escape, till nature gave way, and he sank upon the floor, groaning and +exhausted. + +Physical suffering now began to take the place of his mental tortures. +Parched and consumed with a fierce internal fever, he was tormented by +unappeasable thirst--of all human ills the most unendurable. His tongue +was dry and dusty, his throat inflamed; his lips had lost all moisture. +He licked the humid floor; he sought to imbibe the nitrous drops from +the walls; but, instead of allaying his thirst, they increased it. He +would have given the world, had he possessed it, for a draught of cold +spring-water. Oh, to have died with his lips upon some bubbling +fountain's marge! But to perish thus----! + +Nor were the pangs of hunger wanting. He had to endure all the horrors +of famine, as well as the agonies of quenchless thirst. + +In this dreadful state three days and nights passed over Alan's fated +head. Nor night nor day had he. Time, with him, was only measured by its +duration, and that seemed interminable. Each hour added to his +suffering, and brought with it no relief. During this period of +prolonged misery reason often tottered on her throne. Sometimes he was +under the influence of the wildest passions. He dragged coffins from +their recesses, hurled them upon the ground, striving to break them open +and drag forth their loathsome contents. Upon other occasions he would +weep bitterly and wildly; and once--only once--did he attempt to pray; +but he started from his knees with an echo of infernal laughter, as he +deemed, ringing in his ears. Then, again, would he call down +imprecations upon himself and his whole line, trampling upon the pile of +coffins he had reared; and lastly, more subdued, would creep to the +boards that contained the body of his child, kissing them with a frantic +outbreak of affection. + +At length he became sensible of his approaching dissolution. To him the +thought of death might well be terrible, but he quailed not before it, +or rather seemed, in his latest moments, to resume all his wonted +firmness of character. Gathering together his remaining strength, he +dragged himself towards the niche wherein his brother, Sir Reginald +Rookwood, was deposited, and placing his hand upon the coffin, solemnly +exclaimed, "My curse--my dying curse--be upon thee evermore!" + +Falling with his face upon the coffin, Alan instantly expired. In this +attitude his remains were discovered. + + + + +_L'ENVOY_ + + +Our tale is told. Yet, perhaps, we may be allowed to add a few words +respecting two of the subordinate characters of our drama--melodrama we +ought to say--namely Jerry Juniper and the knight of Malta. What became +of the Caper Merchant's son after his flight from Kilburn Wells we have +never been able distinctly to ascertain. Juniper, however, would seem to +be a sort of Wandering Jew, for certain it is, that _somebody very like +him_ is extant still, and to be met with at Jerry's old haunts; indeed, +we have no doubt of encountering him at the ensuing meetings of Ascot +and Hampton. + +As regards the knight of Malta--Knight of _Roads_--"Rhodes"--he should +have been--we are sorry to state that the career of the Ruffler +terminated in a madhouse, and thus the poor knight became in reality a +_Hospitaller_! According to the custom observed in those establishments, +the knight was deprived of his luxuriant locks, and the loss of his +beard rendered his case incurable; but, in the mean time, the barber of +the place made his fortune by retailing the materials of all the black +wigs he could collect to the impostor's dupes. + +Such is the latest piece of intelligence that has reached us of the +_Arch-hoaxer_ of Canterbury! + +Turpin--why disguise it?--was hanged at York in 1739. His firmness +deserted him not at the last. When he mounted the fatal tree his left +leg trembled; he stamped it impatiently down, and, after a brief chat +with the hangman, threw himself suddenly and resolutely from the ladder. +His sufferings would appear to have been slight: as he himself sang, + + He died, not as other men, by _degrees_, + But _at once_, without wincing, and quite at his ease! + +We may, in some other place, lay before the reader the particulars--and +they are not incurious--of the "night before Larry was stretched." + +The remains of the vagrant highwayman found a final resting-place in the +desecrated churchyard of Saint George, without the Fishergate postern, a +green and grassy cemetery, but withal a melancholy one. A few recent +tombs mark out the spots where some of the victims of the pestilence of +1832-33 have been interred; but we have made vain search for Turpin's +grave--unless--as is more than probable--the plain stone with the simple +initials R. T. belongs to him. + +The gyves by which he was fettered are still shown at York Castle, and +are of prodigious weight and strength; and though the herculean robber +is said to have moved in them with ease, the present turnkey was +scarcely able to lift the ponderous irons. An old woman of the same city +has a lock of hair, said to have been Turpin's, which she avouches her +grandfather cut off from the body after the execution, and which the +believers look upon with great reverence. O rare Dick Turpin! + +We shall, perhaps, be accused of dilating too much upon the character of +the highwayman, and we plead guilty to the charge. But we found it +impossible to avoid running a little into extremes. Our earliest +associations are connected with sunny scenes in Cheshire, said to have +been haunted by Turpin; and with one very dear to us--from whose lips, +now, alas! silent, we have listened to many stories of his exploits--he +was a sort of hero. We have had a singular delight in recounting his +feats and hairbreadth escapes; and if the reader derives only half as +much pleasure from the perusal of his adventures as we have had in +narrating them, our satisfaction will be complete. Perhaps, we may have +placed him in too favorable a point of view--and yet we know not. As +upon those of more important personages, many doubts rest upon his +history. Such as we conceive him to have been, we have drawn him--hoping +that the benevolent reader, upon finishing our Tale, will arrive at the +same conclusion; and, in the words of the quaint old Prologue to the +Prince of Prigs' Revels, + + ------------Thank that man, + Can make each thief a complete Roscian! + + + + +NOTES + + +[1] See the celebrated recipe for the Hand of Glory in "_Les Secrets du +Petit Albert_." + +[2] The seven planets, so called by Mercurius Trismegistus. + +[3] Payne Knight, the scourge of Repton and his school, speaking of the +license indulged in by the modern landscape-gardeners, thus vents his +indignation: + + But here, once more, ye rural muses weep + The ivy'd balustrade, and terrace steep; + Walls, mellowed into harmony by time, + On which fantastic creepers used to climb; + While statues, labyrinths, and alleys pent + Within their bounds, at least were innocent!-- + _Our modern taste--alas!--no limit knows; + O'er hill, o'er dale, through wood and field it flows; + Spreading o'er all its unprolific spawn, + In never-ending sheets of vapid lawn._ + + _The Landscape, a didactic Poem, + addressed to Uvedale Price, Esq._ + +[4] Mason's English Garden. + +[5] Cowley. + +[6] Query, Damocles?--_Printer's Devil._ + +[7] James Hind--the "Prince of Prigs"--a royalist captain of some +distinction, was hanged, drawn, and quartered, in 1652. Some good +stories are told of him. He had the credit of robbing Cromwell, +Bradshaw, and Peters. His discourse to Peters is particularly edifying. + +[8] See Du-Val's life by Doctor Pope, or Leigh Hunt's brilliant sketch +of him in _The Indicator_. + +[9] We cannot say much in favor of this worthy, whose name was Thomas +Simpson. The reason of his _sobriquet_ does not appear. He was not +particularly scrupulous as to his mode of appropriation. One of his +sayings is, however, on record. He told a widow whom he robbed, "that +the end of a woman's husband begins in tears, but the end of her tears +is another husband." "Upon which," says his chronicler, "the gentlewoman +gave him about fifty guineas." + +[10] Tom was a sprightly fellow, and carried his sprightliness to the +gallows; for just before he was turned off he kicked Mr. Smith, the +ordinary, and the hangman out of the cart--a piece of pleasantry which +created, as may be supposed, no small sensation. + +[11] Many agreeable stories are related of Holloway. His career, +however, closed with a murder. He contrived to break out of Newgate but +returned to witness the trial of one of his associates; when, upon the +attempt of a turnkey, one Richard Spurling, to seize him, Will knocked +him on the head in the presence of the whole court. For this offence he +suffered the extreme penalty of the law in 1712. + +[12] Wicks's adventures with Madame Toly are highly diverting. It was +this hero--not Turpin, as has been erroneously stated--who stopped the +celebrated Lord Mohun. Of Gettings and Grey, and "the five or six," the +less said the better. + +[13] One of Jack's recorded _mots_. When a Bible was pressed upon his +acceptance by Mr. Wagstaff, the chaplain, Jack refused it, saying, "that +in his situation one file would be worth all the Bibles in the world." A +gentleman who visited Newgate asked him to dinner; Sheppard replied, +"that he would take an early opportunity of waiting upon him." And we +believe he kept his word. + +[14] The word Tory, as here applied, must not be confounded with the +term of party distinction now in general use in the political world. It +simply means a thief on a grand scale, something more than "a snapper-up +of unconsidered trifles," or petty-larceny rascal. We have classical +authority for this:--TORY: "An advocate for absolute monarchy; _also, an +Irish vagabond, robber, or rapparee_."--GROSE'S _Dictionary_. + +[15] A trio of famous High-Tobygloaks. Swiftneck was a captain of +_Irish_ dragoons, by-the-bye. + +[16] REDMOND O'HANLON was the Rob Roy of Ireland, and his adventures, +many of which are exceedingly curious, would furnish as rich _materials_ +for the novelist, as they have already done for the ballad-mongers: some +of them are, however, sufficiently well narrated in a pleasant little +tome, published at Belfast, entitled _The History of the Rapparees_. We +are also in possession of a funeral discourse, preached at the obsequies +of the "noble and renowned" Henry St. John, Esq., who was unfortunately +killed by the _Tories_--the _Destructives_ of those days--in the +induction to which we find some allusion to Redmond. After describing +the thriving condition of the north of Ireland, about 1680, the Rev. +Lawrence Power, the author of the sermon, says, "One mischief there was, +which indeed in a great measure destroyed all, and that was a pack of +insolent bloody outlaws, whom they here call _Tories_. These had so +riveted themselves in these parts, that by the interest they had among +the natives, and some English, too, _to their shame be it spoken_, they +exercise a kind of separate sovereignty in three or four counties in the +north of Ireland. REDMOND O'HANLON is their chief, and has been these +many years; a cunning, dangerous fellow, who, though proclaimed an +outlaw with the rest of his crew, and sums of money set upon their +heads, yet he reigns still, and keeps all in subjection, so far that +'tis credibly reported _he raises more in a year by contributions +à-la-mode de France than the king's land taxes and chimney-money come +to, and thereby is enabled to bribe clerks and officers_, IF NOT THEIR +MASTERS, (!) _and makes all too much truckle to him_." Agitation, it +seems, was not confined to our own days--but the "finest country in the +world" has been, and ever will be, the same. The old game is played +under a new color--the only difference being, that had Redmond lived in +our time, he would, in all probability, not only have pillaged a county, +but _represented_ it in parliament. The spirit of the Rapparee is still +abroad--though we fear there is little of the _Tory_ left about it. We +recommend this note to the serious consideration of the declaimers +against the sufferings of the "six millions." + +[17] Here Titus was slightly in error. He mistook the cause for the +effect. "They were called Rapparees," Mr. Malone says, "from being armed +with a half-pike, called by the Irish a _rapparee_."--TODD'S JOHNSON. + +[18] _Tory_, so called from the Irish word _Toree_, give me your +money.--TODD'S JOHNSON. + +[19] As he was carried to the gallows, Jack played a fine tune of his +own composing on the bagpipe, which retains the name of Macpherson's +tune to this day.--_History of the Rapparees_. + +[20] "Notwithstanding he was so great a rogue, Delany was a handsome, +portly man, extremely diverting in company, and could behave himself +before gentlemen very agreeably. _He had a political genius_--not +altogether surprising in so eminent a _Tory_--and would have made great +proficiency in learning if he had rightly applied his time. He composed +several songs, and put tunes to them; and by his skill in music gained +the favor of some of the leading musicians in the country, who +endeavored to get him reprieved."--_History of the Rapparees_. The +particulars of the _Songster's_ execution are singular:--"When he was +brought into court to receive sentence of death, the judge told him that +he was informed he should say 'that there was not a rope in Ireland +sufficient to hang him. But,' says he, 'I'll try if Kilkenny can't +afford one strong enough to do your business; and if that will not do, +you shall have another, and another.' Then he ordered the sheriff to +choose a rope, and Delany was ordered for execution the next day. The +sheriff having notice of his mother's boasting that no rope could hang +her son--and pursuant to the judge's desire--provided two ropes, but +Delany broke them one after the other! The sheriff was then in a rage, +and went for three bed-cords, which he plaited threefold together, _and +they did his business_! Yet the sheriff was afraid he was not dead; and +in a passion, to make trial, stabbed him with his sword in the soles of +his feet, and at last cut the rope. After he was cut down, his body was +carried into the courthouse, where it remained in the coffin for two +days, standing up, till the judge and all the spectators were fully +satisfied that he was stiff and dead, and then permission was given to +his friends to remove the corpse and bury it."-_History of the +Rapparees_. + +[21] Highwaymen, as contradistinguished from footpads. + +[22] Since Mr. Coates here avows himself the writer of this diatribe +against Sir Robert Walpole, attacked under the guise of _Turpin_ in the +_Common Sense_ of July 30, 1737, it is useless to inquire further into +its authorship. And it remains only to refer the reader to the _Gents. +Mag._, vol. vii. p. 438, for the article above quoted; and for a reply +to it from the _Daily Gazetteer_ contained in p. 499 of the same volume. + +[23] In reference to this imaginary charm, Sir Thomas Browne observes, +in his "Vulgar Errors." "What natural effects can reasonably be +expected, when, to prevent the Ephialtes, or Nightmare, we hang a hollow +stone in our stables?" Grose also states, "that a stone with a hole in +it, hung at the bed's head, will prevent the nightmare, and is therefore +called a hag-stone." The belief in this charm still lingers in some +districts, and maintains, like the horse-shoe affixed to the barn-door, +a feeble stand against the superstition-destroying "march of intellect." + +[24] Brown's Pastorals. + +[25] The Merry Beggars. + +[26] The parties to be wedded find out a dead horse, or any other beast, +and standing one on the one side, and the other on the other, the +patrico bids them live together till death do them part; and so shaking +hands, the wedding dinner is kept at the next alehouse they stumble +into, where the union is nothing but knocking of cannes, and the sauce, +none but drunken brawles.--DEKKAR. + +[27] Receiver. + +[28] Memoirs, of the right villainous John Hall, the famous, and +notorious Robber, penned from his Mouth some Time before his Death, +1708. + +[29] A famous highwayman. + +[30] A real gentleman. + +[31] Breeches and boots. + +[32] Gipsy flask. + +[33] How he exposes his pistols. + +[34] For an account of these, see Grose. They are much too _gross_ to be +set down here. + +[35] "The shalm, or shawm, was a wind instrument, like a pipe, with a +swelling protuberance in the middle."--_Earl of Northumberland's +Household Book_. + +[36] Perhaps the most whimsical laws that were ever prescribed to a gang +of thieves were those framed by William Holliday, one of the prigging +community, who was hanged in 1695: + +Art. I. directs--That none of his company should presume to wear shirts, +upon pain of being cashiered. + +II.--That none should lie in any other places than stables, empty +houses, or other bulks. + +III.--That they should eat nothing but what they begged, and that they +should give away all the money they got by cleaning boots among one +another, for the good of the fraternity. + +IV.--That they should neither learn to read nor write, that he may have +them the better under command. + +V.--That they should appear every morning by nine, on the parade, to +receive necessary orders. + +VI.--That none should presume to follow the scent but such as he ordered +on that party. + +VII.--That if any one gave them shoes or stockings, they should convert +them into money to play. + +VIII.--That they should steal nothing they could not come at, for fear +of bringing a scandal upon the company. + +IX.--That they should cant better than the Newgate birds, pick pockets +without bungling, outlie a Quaker, outswear a lord at a gaming-table, +and brazen out all their villainies beyond an Irishman. + +[37] Cell. + +[38] Newgate. + +[39] A woman whose husband has been hanged. + +[40] A dancing-master. + +[41] "Nothing, comrades; on, on," supposed to be addressed by a thief to +his confederates. + +[42] Thus Victor Hugo, in "Le Dernier Jour d'un Condamné," makes an +imprisoned felon sing: + + "J'le ferai danser une danse + Où il n'y a pas de plancher." + +[43] Thieves in prison. + +[44] Shoplifter. + +[45] Pickpocket. + +[46] Handkerchiefs. + +[47] Rings. + +[48] To the pawnbroker. + +[49] Snuff-boxes. + +[50] Pickpocket. + +[51] The two forefingers used in picking a pocket. + +[52] Pickpocket. + +[53] Pick a pocket. + +[54] No inside coat-pocket; buttoned up. + +[55] Scissors. + +[56] Steal a pocket-book. + +[57] Best-made clothes. + +[58] Thief. + +[59] With my hair dressed in the first fashion. + +[60] With several rings on my hands. + +[61] Seals. + +[62] Gold watch. + +[63] Laced shirt. + +[64] Gentlemanlike. + +[65] Easily than forged notes could I pass. + +[66] Favorite mistress. + +[67] Police. + +[68] Taken at length. + +[69] Cast for transportation. + +[70] Fetters. + +[71] Turnkey. + +[72] Gipsy. + +[73] Pickpockets. + +[74] This song describes pretty accurately the career of an +extraordinary individual, who, in the lucid intervals of a half-crazed +understanding, imposed himself upon the credulous inhabitants of +Canterbury, in the year 1832, as a certain "SIR WILLIAM PERCY HONEYWOOD +COURTENAY, KNIGHT OF MALTA;" and contrived--for there was considerable +"method in his madness"--to support the deception during a long period. +The anachronism of his character in a tale--the data of which is nearly +a century back--will, perhaps, be overlooked, when it is considered of +how much value, in the illustration of "wise saws," are "_modern +instances_." Imposture and credulity are of all ages; and the Courtenays +of the nineteenth are rivalled by the Tofts and Andrés of the eighteenth +century. The subjoined account of the _soi-disant_ SIR WILLIAM COURTENAY +is extracted from "An Essay on his Character, and Reflections on his +Trial," published at the theatre of his exploits: "About Michaelmas last +it was rumored that an extraordinary man was staying at the Rose Inn of +this city--Canterbury--who passed under the name of Count Rothschild, +but had been recently known in London by the name of Thompson! This +would have been sufficient to excite attention, had no other incidents +materially added to the excitement. His costume and countenance denoted +foreign extraction, while his language and conversation showed that he +was well acquainted with almost every part of this kingdom. He was said +to live with singular frugality, notwithstanding abundant samples of +wealth, and professions of an almost unlimited command of money. He +appeared to study retirement, if not concealment, although subsequent +events have proved that society of every grade, beneath the middle +class, is the element in which he most freely breathes. _He often decked +his person with a fine suit of Italian clothing, and sometimes with the +more gay and imposing costume of the Eastern nations; yet these foreign +habits were for months scarcely visible beyond the limits of the inn of +his abode, and the chapel not far from it, in which he was accustomed to +offer his Sabbath devotions._ This place was the first to which he made +a public and frequent resort; and though he did not always attempt to +advance towards the uppermost seat in the synagogue, he attracted +attention from the mere singularity of his appearance. + +"Such was the eccentric, incongruous individual who surprised our city +by proposing himself as a third candidate for its representation, and +who created an entertaining contest for the honor, long after the +sitting candidates had composed themselves to the delightful vision of +an inexpensive and unopposed return. The notion of representing the city +originated beyond all doubt in the fertile brain of the man himself. It +would seem to have been almost as sudden a thought in his mind, as it +was a sudden and surprising movement in the view of the city; nor have +we been able to ascertain whether his sojourn at the Rose was the cause +or the effect of his offering to advocate our interests in +Parliament--whether he came to the city with that high-minded purpose, +or subsequently formed the notion, when he saw, or thought he saw, an +opening for a stranger of enterprise like himself. + + * * * * * + +"As the county election drew on, we believe between the nomination on +Barham Downs and the voting in the cattle market of the city, the +draught of a certain handbill was sent to a printer of this city, with a +request that he would publish it without delay. Our readers will not be +surprised that he instantly declined the task; but as we have obtained +possession of the copy, and its publication can now do no injury to any +one, we entertain them with a sight of this delectable sample of +Courtenay prudence and politeness. + +"'O yes! O yes! O yes! I, Lord Viscount William Courtenay, of Powderham +Castle, Devon, do hereby proclaim Sir Thomas Tylden, Sir Brook Brydges, +Sir Edward Knatchbull, and Sir William Cosway, four cowards, unfit to +represent, or to assist in returning members of Parliament to serve the +brave men of Kent. + +"'Percy Honeywood Courtenay, of Hales and Evington Place, Kent, and +Knight of Malta. + +"'Any gentleman desiring to know the reasons why Lord Courtenay so +publicly exposes backbiters, any man of honor shall have satisfaction at +his hands, and in a public way, according to the laws of our land--trial +by combat; when the Almighty God, the Lord of Hosts is his name, can +decide the "truth," whether it is a libel or not. I worship truth as my +God, and will die for it--and upon this we will see who is strongest, +God or man.' + +"It is a coincidence too curious to be overlooked, that this doughty +champion of _truth_ should so soon have removed himself from public life +by an act of deliberate and wanton perjury. We never read any of his +rhapsodies, periodical or occasional, till the publication of this essay +imposed the self-denying task upon us; but now we find that they abound +in strong and solemn appeals to the _truth_; in bold proclamations that +_truth_ is his palladium; in evidences that he writes and raves, that he +draws his sword and clenches his fist, that he expends his property and +the property of others committed to his hands, in no cause but that of +_truth_! His famous periodical contains much vehement declamation in +defence of certain doctrines of religion, which he terms the truth of +the sublime system of Christianity, and for which alone he is content to +live, and also willing to die. All who deviate from his standard of +truth, whether theological or moral, philosophical or political, he +appears to consider as neither fit for life nor death. Now it is a +little strange, his warmest followers being witness, that such an +advocate of truth should have become the willing victim of falsehood, +the ready and eager martyr of the worst form of falsehood--perjury. + +"The decline of his influence between the city and county elections has +been partly attributed, and not without reason, to the sudden change in +his appearance from comparative youth to advancing, if not extreme age. +_On the hustings of the city he shone forth in all the dazzling lustre +of an Oriental chief; and such was the effect of gay clothing on the +meridian of life, that his admirers, especially of the weaker sex, would +insist upon it that he had not passed the beautiful spring-time of May. +There were, indeed, some suspicious appearances of a near approach to +forty, if not two or three years beyond it; but these were fondly +ascribed to his foreign travels in distant and insalubrious climes; he +had acquired his duskiness of complexion, and his strength of feature +and violence of gesture, and his profusion of beard, in Egypt and Syria, +in exploring the catacombs of the one country, and bowing at the shrines +of the other. On the other hand, the brilliancy of his eye, the melody +of his voice, and the elasticity of his muscles and limbs, were +sufficient arguments in favor of his having scarcely passed the limit +that separates manhood from youth._ + +"All doubts on these points were removed, when the crowd of his fair +admirers visited him at the retirement of his inn, and the intervals of +his polling. These _sub-Rosa_ interviews--we allude to the name of the +inn, and not to anything like privacy there, which the very place and +number of the visitors altogether precluded--convinced them that he was +even a younger and lovelier man than his rather boisterous behavior in +the hall would allow them to hope. In fact, he was now installed by +acclamation _Knight of Canterbury as well as Malta, and King of Kent as +well as Jerusalem_! It became dangerous then to whisper a syllable of +suspicion against his wealth or rank, his wisdom or beauty; and all who +would not bow down before this golden image were deemed worthy of no +better fate than Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego--to be cast into a +burning fiery furnace." + +As a sequel to the above story, it may be added that the knight of Malta +became the inmate of a lunatic asylum; and on his liberation was shot at +the head of a band of Kentish hinds, whom he had persuaded that he was +the Messiah! + +[75] A pipe of tobacco. + +[76] A drink composed of beer, eggs, and brandy. + +[77] The supposed malignant influence of this plant is frequently +alluded to by our elder dramatists; and with one of the greatest of +them, Webster--as might be expected from a muse revelling like a ghoul +in graves and sepulchres--it is an especial favorite. But none have +plunged so deeply into the subject as Sir Thomas Browne. He tears up the +fable root and branch. Concerning the danger ensuing from eradication of +the mandrake, the learned physician thus writes: "The last assertion is, +that there follows a hazard of life to them that pull it up, that some +evil fate pursues them, and that they live not very long hereafter. +Therefore the attempt hereof among the ancients was not in ordinary way; +but, as Pliny informeth, when they intended to take up the root of this +plant, they took the wind thereof, and with a sword describing three +circles about it, they digged it up, looking toward the west. A conceit +not only injurious unto truth and confutable by daily experience, but +somewhat derogatory unto the providence of God; that is, not only to +impose so destructive a quality on any plant, but to conceive a +vegetable whose parts are so useful unto many, should, in the only +taking up, prove mortal unto any. This were to introduce a second +forbidden fruit, and enhance the first malediction, making it not only +mortal for Adam to taste the one, but capital for his posterity to +eradicate or dig up the other."--_Vulgar Errors_, book ii. c. vi. + +[78] The moon. + +[79] Light. + +[80] Highwayman. + +[81] "Cherry-colored--black; there being black cherries as well as +red."--GROSE. + +[82] Sword. + +[83] Pistols. + +[84] Highway robbery. + +[85] Pocket-book. + +[86] Money. + +[87] Bullets. + +[88] The gallows. + +[89] Ditto. + +[90] Pocket-book. + +[91] Inside coat-pocket. + +[92] A small pocket-book. + +[93] We have heard of a certain gentleman tobyman, we forget his name, +taking the horses from his curricle for a similar purpose, but we own we +think King's the simpler plan, and quite practicable still. A cabriolet +would be quite out of the question, but particularly easy to _stop_. + +[94] Four celebrated highwaymen, all rejoicing in the honorable +distinction of captain. + +[95] The exact spot where Turpin committed this robbery, which has often +been pointed out to us, lies in what is now a woody hollow, though once +the old road from Altringham to Knutsford skirting the rich and sylvan +domains of Dunham, and descending the hill that brings you to the bridge +crossing the little river Bollin. With some difficulty we penetrated +this ravine. It is just the place for an adventure of the kind. A small +brook wells through it; and the steep banks are overhung with timber, +and were, when we last visited the place, in April, 1834, a perfect nest +of primroses and wild flowers. Hough (pronounced Hoo) Green lies about +three miles across the country--the way Turpin rode. The old +Bowling-green is one of the pleasantest inns in Cheshire. + +[96] Money. + +[97] Man. + +[98] Stripped. + +[99] Fellow. + +[100] A particular kind of pugilistic punishment. + +[101] Kept each an eye upon the other. + +[102] Hands. + +[103] Deceive them. + +[104] Accomplice. + +[105] A farthing. + +[106] Cards. + +[107] Qy. _élite_.--PRINTER'S DEVIL. + +[108] Shoot him. + +[109] Since the earlier editions of this Romance were published, we +regret to state--for to _us_, at least, it is matter of regret, though +probably not to the travellers along the Edgeware Road--that this gentle +ascent has been cut through, and the fair prospect from its brow utterly +destroyed. + +[110] This, we regret to say, is not the case. The memory of bold Will +Davies, the "_Golden Farmer_"--so named from the circumstances of his +always paying his rent in gold,--is fast declining upon his peculiar +domain, Bagshot. The inn, which once bore his name, still remains to +point out to the traveller the dangers his forefathers had to encounter +in crossing this extensive heath. Just beyond this house the common +spreads out for miles on all aides in a most gallop-inviting style; and +the passenger, as he gazes from the box of some flying coach, as we have +done, upon the gorse-covered waste, may, without much stretch of fancy, +imagine he beholds Will Davies careering like the wind over its wild and +undulating expanse. We are sorry to add that the "_Golden_ Farmer" has +altered its designation to the "_Jolly_ Farmer." This should be amended; +and when next we pass that way, we hope to see the original sign +restored. We cannot afford to lose our _golden_ farmers. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rookwood, by William Harrison Ainsworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROOKWOOD *** + +***** This file should be named 23564-0.txt or 23564-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/5/6/23564/ + +Produced by Afra Ullah, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Rookwood + +Author: William Harrison Ainsworth + +Release Date: November 20, 2007 [EBook #23564] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROOKWOOD *** + + + + +Produced by Afra Ullah, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + "The immortal Ainsworth." _Thackeray._ + + + NOVELS + + BY + + WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH + + + _ROOKWOOD_ + + + "Gives a vivid picture of the times + and places with which he dealt." + _The New York Herald._ + + + THE RITTENHOUSE PRESS + PHILADELPHIA + + + + +[Illustration: DICK TURPIN CLEARS HORNSEY TOLL-GATE] + + + + + PRINTED IN U.S.A. BY ARRANGEMENT WITH + GEORGE BARRIE'S SONS + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Archaic + and dialect spellings have been retained. Greek text has been + transliterated and is shown between {braces}. The oe ligature has + been transcribed as [oe]. + + A table of contents, though not present in the original publication, + has been provided below: + + MEMOIR + + TO MY MOTHER + + PREFACE + + BOOK I. THE WEDDING RING + I. The Vault + II. The Skeleton Hand + III. The Park + IV. The Hall + V. Sir Reginald Rookwood + VI. Sir Piers Rookwood + VII. The Return + VIII. An Irish Adventurer + IX. An English Adventurer + X. Ranulph Rookwood + XI. Lady Rookwood + XII. The Chamber of Death + XIII. The Brothers + + BOOK II. THE SEXTON + I. The Storm + II. The Funeral Oration + III. The Churchyard + IV. The Funeral + V. The Captive + VI. The Apparition + + BOOK III. THE GIPSY + I. A Morning Ride + II. A Gipsy Encampment + III. Sybil + IV. Barbara Lovel + V. The Inauguration + VI. Eleanor Mowbray + VII. Mrs. Mowbray + VIII. The Parting + IX. The Philter + X. Saint Cyprian's Cell + XI. The Bridal + XII. Alan Rookwood + XIII. Mr. Coates + XIV. Dick Turpin + + BOOK IV. THE RIDE TO YORK + I. The Rendezvous at Kilburn + II. Tom King + III. A Surprise + IV. The Hue and Cry + V. The Short Pipe + VI. Black Bess + VII. The York Stage + VIII. Roadside Inn + IX. Excitement + X. The Gibbet + XI. The Phantom Steed + XII. Cawood Ferry + + BOOK V. THE OATH + I. The Hut on Thorne Waste + II. Major Mowbray + III. Handassah + IV. The Dower of Sybil + V. The Sarcophagus + + L'ENVOY + + NOTES + + + + +_MEMOIR_ + + +William Harrison Ainsworth was born in King Street, Manchester, February +4, 1805, in a house that has long since been demolished. His father was +a solicitor in good practice, and the son had all the advantages that +educational facilities could afford. He was sent to the Manchester +grammar-school, and in one of his early novels has left an interesting +and accurate picture of its then condition, which may be contrasted with +that of an earlier period left by the "English opium-eater." At sixteen, +a brilliant, handsome youth, with more taste for romance and the drama +than for the dry details of the law, he was articled to a leading +solicitor of Manchester. The closest friend of his youth was a Mr. James +Crossley, who was some years older, but shared his intellectual taste +and literary enthusiasm. A drama written for private theatricals, in his +father's house was printed in _Arliss's Magazine_, and he also +contributed to the _Manchester Iris_, the _Edinburgh Magazine_, and the +_London Magazine_. He even started a periodical, which received the name +of _The B[oe]otian_, and died at the sixth number. Many of the fugitive +pieces of these early days were collected in volumes now exceedingly +rare: "December Tales" (London, 1823), which is not wholly from his pen; +the "Works of Cheviot Tichburn" (London, 1822; Manchester, 1825), +dedicated to Charles Lamb; and "A Summer Evening Tale" (London, 1825). + +"Sir John Chiverton" appeared in 1826, and for forty years was regarded +as one of his early works; but Mr. John Partington Aston has also +claimed to be its author. In all probability, both of these young men +joined in the production of the novel which attracted the attention of +Sir Walter Scott. On the death of his father, in 1824, Ainsworth went to +London to finish his legal education, but whatever intentions he may +have formed of humdrum study and determined attention to the details of +a profession in which he had no interest, were dissipated by contact +with the literary world of the metropolis. He made the acquaintance of +Mr. John Ebers, who at that time combined the duties of manager of the +Opera House with the business of a publisher. He it was who issued "Sir +John Chiverton," and the verses forming its dedication are understood to +have been addressed to Anne Frances ("Fanny") Ebers, whom Ainsworth +married October 11, 1826. Ainsworth had then to decide upon a career, +and, acting upon the suggestion of Ebers, his father-in-law, he began +business as a publisher; but after an experience of about eighteen +months he abandoned it. In this brief interval he introduced the Hon. +Mrs. Norton, and Ude, the cook, to the discerning though unequal +admiration of the British public. He was introduced to Sir Walter Scott, +who wrote the "Bonnets of Bonnie Dundee" for an annual issued by him. +Ainsworth gave him twenty guineas for it, which Sir Walter accepted, but +laughingly handed over to the little daughter of Lockhart, in whose +London house they had met. Ainsworth's literary aspirations still burned +with undiminished ardor, and several plans were formed only to be +abandoned, and when, in the summer of 1830, he visited Switzerland and +Italy, he was as far as ever from the fulfilment of his desires. In 1831 +he visited Chesterfield and began the novel of "Rookwood," in which he +successfully applied the method of Mrs. Radcliffe to English scenes and +characters. The finest passage is that relating Turpin's ride to York, +which is a marvel of descriptive writing. It was written, apparently in +a glow of inspiration, in less than a day and a half. "The feat," he +says, "for feat it was, being the composition of a hundred novel pages +in less than twenty-four hours, was achieved at 'The Elms,' a house I +then occupied at Kilburn." The success of "Rookwood" was marked and +immediate. Ainsworth at a bound reached popularity. This was in 1834, +and in 1837 he published "Crichton," which is a fine piece of historical +romance. The critics who had objected to the romantic glamor cast over +the career of Dick Turpin were still further horrified at the manner in +which that vulgar rascal, Jack Sheppard, was elevated into a hero of +romance. The outcry was not entirely without justification, nor was it +without effect on the novelist, who thenceforward avoided this perilous +ground. "Jack Sheppard" appeared in _Bentley's Miscellany_, of which +Ainsworth became editor in March, 1840, at a monthly salary of 51. The +story is powerfully written. In 1841 he received 1000 from the _Sunday +Times_ for "Old St. Paul's," and he, in 1848, had from the same source +another 1000 for the "Lancashire Witches." In 1841 he began the +publication of _Ainsworth's Magazine_, which came to an end in 1853, +when he acquired the _New Monthly Magazine_, which he edited for many +years. This was the heyday of Ainsworth's reputation alike in +literature and in society. His home at Kensal Manor House became famous +for its hospitality, and Dickens, Thackeray, Landseer, Clarkson +Stanfield, Talfourd, Jerrold, and Cruikshank were among his guests. The +list of his principal historical novels, with their dates of issue, may +now be given: "Rookwood," 1834; "Crichton," 1837; "Jack Sheppard," 1839; +"Tower of London," 1840; "Guy Fawkes," 1841; "Old St. Paul's, a Tale of +the Plague and the Fire of London," 1841; "Windsor Castle," 1843; "St. +James, or the Court of Queene Anne," 1844; "Star Chamber," 1854; +"Constable of the Tower," 1861; "The Lord Mayor of London," 1862; +"Cardinal Pole," 1863; "John Law, the Projector," 1864; "The Constable +de Bourbon," 1866; "Talbot Harland," 1870; "Boscobel," 1872; "The +Manchester Rebels, or the Fatal '45," 1873; and "The Goldsmith's Wife," +1874. These novels all met with a certain amount of success, but those +of later years did not attain the striking popularity of his earlier +efforts. Many have been translated into various modern languages, and +the editions of his various works are so numerous that some twenty-three +pages of the British Museum catalogue are devoted to his works. The +scenery and history of his native country had a perennial interest for +him, and a certain group of his novels--that is, the "Lancashire +Witches," "Guy Fawkes," "The Manchester Rebels," etc.--may almost be +said to form a novelist's history of Lancashire from the pilgrimage of +grace until the early part of the present century. + +Probably no more vivid account has been written of the great fire and +plague of London than that given in "Old St. Paul's." The charm of +Ainsworth's novels is not at all dependent upon the analysis of motives +or subtle description of character. Of this he has little or nothing, +but he realizes vividly a scene or an incident, and conveys the +impression with great force and directness to the reader's mind. +Ainsworth came upon the reading world at a happy moment. People were +weary of the inanities of the fashionable novel, and were ready to +listen to one who had a power of vivacious narrative. In 1881, when he +was in his seventy-seventh year, a pleasant tribute of respect and +admiration was paid to him in his native town. The Mayor of Manchester +entertained him at a banquet in the town hall September 15, 1881, "as an +expression of the high esteem in which he is held by his fellow-townsmen +and of his services to literature." In proposing Mr. Ainsworth's health, +the mayor gave a curious instance of the popularity of his writings. "In +our Manchester public free libraries there are two hundred and fifty +volumes of Mr. Ainsworth's different works. During the last twelve +months these volumes have been read seven thousand six hundred and sixty +times, mostly by the artisan class of readers. And this means that +twenty volumes of his works are being perused in Manchester by readers +of the free libraries every day all the year through." It was well that +this pleasant recognition was not longer delayed. The contrast was +pathetically great between the tall, handsome, dandified figure +presented in the portraits of him by Pickersgill and Maclise, and the +bent and feeble old man who stood by and acknowledged the plaudits of +those who had assembled to honor him. His last published work was +"Stanley Brereton," which he dedicated to his hospitable entertainer. +He died at Reigate January 3, 1882, leaving a widow and also three +daughters by his first marriage. He was buried at Kensal Green Cemetery. +With the exception of George Gleig, he was the last survivor of the +brilliant group who wrote for the early numbers of _Fraser's Magazine_, +and, though he died in harness, had outlived nearly all the associates +of the days when he first achieved fame. + + + + +_TO MY MOTHER_ + + +When I inscribed this Romance to you, my dear Mother, on its first +appearance, I was satisfied that, whatever reception it might meet with +elsewhere, at your hands it would be sure of indulgence. Since then, the +approbation your partiality would scarcely have withheld has been +liberally accorded by the public; and I have the satisfaction of +reflecting, that in following the dictates of affection, which prompted +me to select the dearest friend I had in the world as the subject of a +dedication, I have not overstepped the limits of prudence; nor, in +connecting your honored name with this trifling production, involved you +in a failure which, had it occurred, would have given you infinitely +more concern than myself. After a lapse of three years, during which my +little bark, fanned by pleasant and prosperous breezes, has sailed, more +than once, securely into port, I again commit it to the waters, with +more confidence than heretofore, and with a firmer reliance that, if it +should be found "after many days," it may prove a slight memorial of the +warmest filial regard. + +Exposed to trials of no ordinary difficulty, and visited by domestic +affliction of no common severity, you, my dear Mother, have borne up +against the ills of life with a fortitude and resignation which those +who know you best can best appreciate, but which none can so well +understand, or so thoroughly appreciate, as myself. Suffering is the lot +of all. Submission under the dispensation is permitted to few. And it is +my fervent hope that my own children may emulate your virtues, if they +are happily spared your sorrows. + + + + +_PREFACE_ + + +During a visit to Chesterfield, in the autumn of the year 1831, I first +conceived the notion of writing this story. Wishing to describe, +somewhat minutely, the trim gardens, the picturesque domains, the +rook-haunted groves, the gloomy chambers, and gloomier galleries, of an +ancient Hall with which I was acquainted, I resolved to attempt a story +in the bygone style of Mrs. Radcliffe,--which had always inexpressible +charms for me,--substituting an old English squire, an old English +manorial residence, and an old English highwayman, for the Italian +marchese, the castle, and the brigand of the great mistress of Romance. + +While revolving this subject, I happened, one evening, to enter the +spacious cemetery attached to the church with the queer, twisted +steeple, which, like the uplifted tail of the renowned Dragon of +Wantley, to whom "houses and churches were as capons and turkeys," seems +to menace the good town of Chesterfield with destruction. Here an +incident occurred, on the opening of a vault, which it is needless to +relate, but which supplied me with a hint for the commencement of my +romance, as well as for the ballad entitled "The Coffin." Upon this hint +I immediately acted; and the earlier chapters of the book, together with +the description of the ancestral mansion of the Rookwoods, were +completed before I quitted Chesterfield. + +Another and much larger portion of the work was written during a +residence at Rottingdean, in Sussex, in the latter part of 1833, and +owes its inspiration to many delightful walks over the South Downs. +Romance-writing was pleasant occupation then. + +The Ride to York was completed in one day and one night. This feat--for +a feat it was, being the composition of a hundred ordinary novel pages +in less than twenty-four hours--was achieved at "The Elms," a house I +then occupied at Kilburn. Well do I remember the fever into which I was +thrown during the time of composition. My pen literally scoured over the +pages. So thoroughly did I identify myself with the flying highwayman, +that, once started, I found it impossible to halt. Animated by kindred +enthusiasm, I cleared every obstacle in my path with as much facility as +Turpin disposed of the impediments that beset his flight. In his +company, I mounted the hill-side, dashed through the bustling village, +swept over the desolate heath, threaded the silent street, plunged into +the eddying stream, and kept an onward course, without pause, without +hindrance, without fatigue. With him I shouted, sang, laughed, exulted, +wept. Nor did I retire to rest till, in imagination, I heard the bell of +York Minster toll forth the knell of poor Black Bess. + +The supernatural occurrence, forming the groundwork of one of the +ballads which I have made the harbinger of doom to the house of +Rookwood, is ascribed, by popular superstition, to a family resident in +Sussex; upon whose estate the fatal tree--a gigantic lime, with mighty +arms and huge girth of trunk, as described in the song--is still +carefully preserved. Cuckfield Place, to which this singular piece of +timber is attached, is, I may state, for the benefit of the curious, the +real Rookwood Hall; for I have not drawn upon imagination, but upon +memory, in describing the seat and domains of that fated family. The +general features of the venerable structure, several of its chambers, +the old garden, and, in particular, the noble park, with its spreading +prospects, its picturesque views of the Hall, "like bits of Mrs. +Radcliffe,"--as the poet Shelley once observed of the same scene,--its +deep glades, through which the deer come lightly tripping down, its +uplands, slopes, brooks, brakes, coverts, and groves, are carefully +delineated. + +The superstition of a fallen branch affording a presage of approaching +death is not peculiar to the family I have mentioned. Many other old +houses have been equally favored: in fact, there is scarcely an ancient +family in the kingdom without a boding sign. For instance, the Breretons +of Brereton, in Cheshire, were warned by the appearance of stocks of +trees floating, like the swollen bodies of long-drowned men, upon the +surface of a sombre lake--called Blackmere, from the inky color of its +waters--adjoining their residence; and numerous other examples might be +given. The death-presage of the Breretons is alluded to by Drayton in +the "_Polyolbion_." + +It has been well observed by Barry Cornwall, "that the songs which occur +in dramas are more natural than those which proceed from the author in +person." With equal force does the reasoning apply to the romance, which +may be termed the drama of the closet. It would seem strange, on a first +view, that an author should be more at home in an assumed character than +his own. But experience shows the position to be correct. Conscious he +is no longer individually associated with his work, the writer proceeds +with all the freedom of irresponsibility. His idiosyncrasy is merged in +that of the personages he represents. He thinks with their thoughts, +sees with their eyes, speaks with their tongues. His strains are such as +he himself--_per se_--would not, perhaps could not, have originated. In +this light he may be said to bring to his subject not one mind, but +several; he becomes not one poet, but many; for each actor in his drama +has a share, and an important share, in the lyrical _estro_ to which he +gives birth. This it is which has imparted any verve, variety, or +dramatic character they possess, to the ballads contained in this +production. Turpin I look upon as the real songster of "Black Bess;" to +Jerry Juniper I am unquestionably indebted for a flash melody which, +without his hint, would never have been written, while to the sexton I +owe the solitary gleam of light I have been enabled to throw upon the +horrors and mystery of the churchyard. + +As I have casually alluded to the flash song of Jerry Juniper, I may, +perhaps, be allowed to make a few observations upon this branch of +versification. It is somewhat curious, with a dialect so racy, +idiomatic, and plastic as our own cant, that its metrical capabilities +should have been so little essayed. The French have numerous _chansons +d'argot_, ranging from the time of Charles Bourdign and Villon down to +that of Vidocq and Victor Hugo, the last of whom has enlivened the +horrors of his "_Dernier Jour d'un Condamn_" by a festive song of this +class. The Spaniards possess a large collection of _Romances de +Germania_, by various authors, amongst whom Quevedo holds a +distinguished place. We, on the contrary, have scarcely any slang songs +of merit. With a race of depredators so melodious and convivial as our +highwaymen, this is the more to be wondered at. Had they no bards +amongst their bands? Was there no minstrel at hand to record their +exploits? I can only call to mind one robber who was a poet,--Delany, +and _he_ was an Irishman. This barrenness, I have shown, is not +attributable to the poverty of the soil, but to the want of due +cultivation. Materials are at hand in abundance, but there have been few +operators. Dekker, Beaumont and Fletcher, and Ben Jonson have all dealt +largely in this jargon, but not lyrically; and one of the earliest and +best specimens of a canting-song occurs in Brome's "_Jovial Crew_;" and +in the "_Adventures of Bamfylde Moore Carew_" there is a solitary ode, +addressed by the mendicant fraternity to their newly-elected monarch; +but it has little humor, and can scarcely be called a genuine +canting-song. This ode brings us down to our own time; to the effusions +of the illustrious Pierce Egan; to Tom Moore's Flights of "_Fancy_;" to +John Jackson's famous chant, "_On the High Toby Spice Flash the +Muzzle_," cited by Lord Byron in a note to "_Don Juan_;" and to the +glorious Irish ballad, worth them all put together, entitled "_The Night +Before Larry Was Stretched_." This facetious performance is attributed +to the late Dean Burrowes, of Cork. It is worthy of note that almost all +modern aspirants to the graces of the _Musa Pedestris_ are Irishmen. Of +all rhymesters of the "_Road_," however, Dean Burrowes is, as yet, most +fully entitled to the laurel. Larry is quite "the potato!" + +And here, as the candidates are so few, and their pretensions so humble, + + I can't help putting in my claim for praise. + +I venture to affirm that I have done something more than has been +accomplished by my predecessors, or contemporaries, with the significant +language under consideration. I have written a purely flash song, of +which the great and peculiar merit consists in its being utterly +incomprehensible to the uninformed understanding, while its meaning must +be perfectly clear and perspicuous to the practised _patterer_ of +_Romany_, or _Pedlar's French_. I have, moreover, been the first to +introduce and naturalize amongst us a measure which, though common +enough in the Argotic minstrelsy of France, has been hitherto utterly +unknown to our _pedestrian_ poetry. Some years afterwards, the song +alluded to, better known under the title of "_Nix My Dolly, Pals,--Fake +Away!_" sprang into extraordinary popularity, being set to music by +Rodwell, and chanted by glorious Paul Bedford and clever little Mrs. +Keeley. + +Before quitting the subject of these songs, I may mention that they +probably would not have been written at all if one of the earliest of +them--a chance experiment--had not excited the warm approbation of my +friend, Charles Ollier, author of the striking romance of "Ferrers." +This induced me to prosecute the vein accidentally opened. + +Turpin was the hero of my boyhood. I had always a strange passion for +highwaymen, and have listened by the hour to their exploits, as narrated +by my father, and especially to those of "Dauntless Dick," that "chief +minion of the moon." One of Turpin's adventures in particular, the ride +to Hough Green, which took deep hold of my fancy, I have recorded in +song. When a boy, I have often lingered by the side of the deep old road +where this robbery was committed, to cast wistful glances into its +mysterious windings; and when night deepened the shadows of the trees, +have urged my horse on his journey, from a vague apprehension of a visit +from the ghostly highwayman. And then there was the Bollin, with its +shelvy banks, which Turpin cleared at a bound; the broad meadows over +which he winged his flight; the pleasant bowling-green of the pleasant +old inn at Hough, where he produced his watch to the Cheshire squires, +with whom he was upon terms of intimacy; all brought something of the +gallant robber to mind. No wonder, in after-years, in selecting a +highwayman for a character in a tale, I should choose my old favorite, +Dick Turpin. + +In reference to two of the characters here introduced, and drawn from +personages living at the time the tale was written, it may be mentioned +that poor Jerry Juniper met his death from an accident at Chichester, +while he was proceeding to Goodwood races; and that the knight of +Malta,--Mr. Tom, a brewer of Truro, the self-styled Sir William +Courtenay, who played the strange tricks at Canterbury chronicled in a +song given in these pages,--after his release from Banning Heath Asylum, +was shot through the head while leading on a mob of riotous Kentish +yeomen, whom he had persuaded that he was the Messiah! + +If the design of Romance be, what it has been held, the exposition of a +useful truth by means of an interesting story, I fear I have but +imperfectly fulfilled the office imposed upon me; having, as I will +freely confess, had, throughout, an eye rather to the reader's +amusement than his edification. One wholesome moral, however, may, I +trust, be gathered from the perusal of this Tale; namely, that, without +due governance of the passions, high aspirations and generous emotions +will little avail their possessor. The impersonations of the Tempter, +the Tempted, and the Better Influence may be respectively discovered, by +those who care to cull the honey from the flower, in the Sexton, in +Luke, and in Sybil. + +The chief object I had in view in making the present essay was to see +how far the infusion of a warmer and more genial current into the veins +of old Romance would succeed in reviving her fluttering and feeble +pulses. The attempt has succeeded beyond my most sanguine expectation. +Romance, if I am not mistaken, is destined shortly to undergo an +important change. Modified by the German and French writers--by Hoffman, +Tieck, Hugo, Dumas, Balzac, and Paul Lecroix (_le Bibliophile +Jacob_)--the structure commenced in our own land by Horace Walpole, Monk +Lewis, Mrs. Radcliffe, and Maturin, but left imperfect and inharmonious, +requires, now that the rubbish which choked up its approach is removed, +only the hand of the skilful architect to its entire renovation and +perfection. + +And now, having said my say, I must bid you, worthy reader, farewell. +Beseeching you, in the words of old Rabelais, "to interpret all my +sayings and doings in the perfectest sense. Reverence the cheese-like +brain that feeds you with all these jolly maggots; and do what lies in +you to keep me always merry. Be frolic now, my lads! Cheer up your +hearts, and joyfully read the rest, with all ease of your body, and +comfort of your reins." + + KENSAL MANOR-HOUSE, + _December 15, 1849_. + + + + +ROOKWOOD + + + + +_BOOK I_ + + +_THE WEDDING RING_ + + It has been observed, and I am apt to believe it is an observation + which will generally be found true, that before a terrible truth + comes to light, there are certain murmuring whispers fly before it, + and prepare the minds of men for the reception of the truth itself. + + _Gallick Reports: + Case of the Count Saint Geran._ + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_THE VAULT_ + + Let me know, therefore, fully the intent + Of this thy dismal preparation-- + This talk fit for a charnel. + + WEBSTER. + + +Within a sepulchral vault, and at midnight, two persons were seated. The +chamber was of singular construction and considerable extent. The roof +was of solid stone masonry, and rose in a wide semicircular arch to the +height of about seventeen feet, measured from the centre of the ceiling +to the ground floor, while the sides were divided by slight +partition-walls into ranges of low, narrow catacombs. The entrance to +each cavity was surrounded by an obtusely-pointed arch, resting upon +slender granite pillars; and the intervening space was filled up with a +variety of tablets, escutcheons, shields, and inscriptions, recording +the titles and heraldic honors of the departed. There were no doors to +the niches; and within might be seen piles of coffins, packed one upon +another, till the floor groaned with the weight of lead. Against one of +the pillars, upon a hook, hung a rack of tattered, time-out-of-mind +hatchments; and in the centre of the tomb might be seen the effigies of +Sir Ranulph de Rokewode, the builder of the mausoleum, and the founder +of the race who slept within its walls. This statue, wrought in black +marble, differed from most monumental carved-work, in that its posture +was erect and lifelike. Sir Ranulph was represented as sheathed in a +complete suit of mail, decorated with his emblazoned and gilded surcoat, +his arm leaning upon the pommel of a weighty curtal-axe. The attitude +was that of stern repose. A conically-formed helmet rested upon the +brow; the beaver was raised, and revealed harsh but commanding features. +The golden spur of knighthood was fixed upon the heel; and, at the feet, +enshrined in a costly sarcophagus of marble, dug from the same quarry as +the statue, rested the mortal remains of one of "the sternest knights to +his mortal foe that ever put speare in the rest." + +Streaming in a wavering line upon the roof, the sickly flame of a candle +partially fell upon the human figures before alluded to, throwing them +into darkest relief, and casting their opaque and fantastical shadows +along the ground. An old coffin upon a bier, we have said, served the +mysterious twain for a seat. Between them stood a bottle and a glass, +evidences that whatever might be the ulterior object of their stealthy +communion, the immediate comfort of the creature had not been altogether +overlooked. At the feet of one of the personages were laid a mattock, a +horn lantern--from which the candle had been removed--, a crowbar, and a +bunch of keys. Near to these implements of a vocation which the reader +will readily surmise, rested a strange superannuated terrier with a wiry +back and frosted muzzle; a head minus an ear, and a leg wanting a paw. +His master, for such we shall suppose him, was an old man with a lofty +forehead, covered with a singularly shaped nightcap, and clothed, as to +his lower limbs, with tight, ribbed, gray worsted hose, ascending +externally, after a bygone fashion, considerably above the knee. The old +man's elbow rested upon the handle of his spade, his wrist supported his +chin, and his gray glassy eyes, glimmering like marsh-meteors in the +candle-light, were fixed upon his companion with a glance of searching +scrutiny. + +The object of his investigation, a much more youthful and interesting +person, seemed lost in reverie, and alike insensible to time, place, and +the object of the meeting. With both hands grasped round the barrel of a +fowling-piece, and his face leaning upon the same support, the features +were entirely concealed from view; the light, too, being at the back, +and shedding its rays over, rather than upon his person, aided his +disguise. Yet, even thus imperfectly defined, the outline of the head, +and the proportions of the figure, were eminently striking and +symmetrical. Attired in a rough forester's costume, of the mode of 1737, +and of the roughest texture and rudest make, his wild garb would have +determined his rank as sufficiently humble in the scale of society, had +not a certain loftiness of manner, and bold, though reckless deportment, +argued pretensions on the part of the wearer to a more elevated station +in life, and contradicted, in a great measure, the impression produced +by the homely appearance of his habiliments. A cap of shaggy brown fur, +fancifully, but not ungracefully fashioned, covered his head, from +beneath which, dropping, in natural clusters over his neck and +shoulders, a cloud of raven hair escaped. Subsequently, when his face +was more fully revealed, it proved to be that of a young man, of dark +aspect, and grave, melancholy expression of countenance, approaching +even to the stern, when at rest; though sufficiently animated and +earnest when engaged in conversation, or otherwise excited. His features +were regular, delicately formed, and might be characterized as +singularly handsome, were it not for a want of roundness in the contour +of the face which gave the lineaments a thin, worn look, totally +distinct, however, from haggardness or emaciation. The nose was delicate +and fine; the nostril especially so; the upper lip was short, curling, +graceful, and haughtily expressive. As to complexion, his skin had a +truly Spanish warmth and intensity of coloring. His figure, when raised, +was tall and masculine, and though slight, exhibited great personal +vigor. + +We will now turn to his companion, the old man with the great gray +glittering eyes. Peter Bradley, of Rookwood--comitat Ebor--, where he +had exercised the vocation of sexton for the best part of a life already +drawn out to the full span ordinarily allotted to mortality, was an odd +caricature of humanity. His figure was lean, and almost as lank as a +skeleton. His bald head reminded one of a bleached skull, allowing for +the overhanging and hoary brows. Deep-seated, and sunken within their +sockets, his gray orbs gleamed with intolerable lustre. Few could endure +his gaze; and, aware of his power, Peter seldom failed to exercise it. +He had likewise another habit, which, as it savored of insanity, made +him an object of commiseration with some, while it rendered him yet more +obnoxious to others. The habit we allude to, was the indulgence of wild +screaming laughter at times when all merriment should be checked; and +when the exhibition of levity must proceed from utter disregard of human +grief and suffering, or from mental alienation. + +Wearied with the prolonged silence, Peter at length condescended to +speak. His voice was harsh and grating as a rusty hinge. + +"Another glass?" said he, pouring out a modicum of the pale fluid. + +His companion shook his head. + +"It will keep out the cold," continued the sexton, pressing the liquid +upon him: "and you, who are not so much accustomed as I am to the damps +of a vault, may suffer from them. Besides," added he, sneeringly, "it +will give you courage." + +His companion answered not. But the flash of his eye resented the +implied reproach. + +"Nay, never stare at me so hard, Luke," continued the sexton; "I doubt +neither your courage nor your firmness. But if you won't drink, I will. +Here's to the rest eternal of Sir Piers Rookwood! You'll say amen to +that pledge, or you are neither grandson of mine, nor offspring of his +loins." + +"Why should I reverence his memory," answered Luke, bitterly, refusing +the proffered potion, "who showed no fatherly love for me? He disowned +_me_ in life: in death I disown _him_. Sir Piers Rookwood was no father +of mine." + +"He was as certainly your father, as Susan Bradley, your mother, was my +daughter," rejoined the sexton. + +"And, surely," cried Luke, impetuously, "_you_ need not boast of the +connection! 'Tis not for you, old man, to couple their names +together--to exult in your daughter's disgrace and your own dishonor. +Shame! shame! Speak not of them in the same breath, if you would not +have me invoke curses on the dead! _I_ have no reverence--whatever _you_ +may have--for the seducer--for the murderer of my mother." + +"You have choice store of epithets, in sooth, good grandson," rejoined +Peter, with a chuckling laugh. "Sir Piers a murderer!" + +"Tush!" exclaimed Luke, indignantly, "affect not ignorance. You have +better knowledge than I have of the truth or falsehood of the dark tale +that has gone abroad respecting my mother's fate; and unless report has +belied you foully, had substantial reasons for keeping sealed lips on +the occasion. But to change this painful subject," added he, with a +sudden alteration of manner, "at what hour did Sir Piers Rookwood die?" + +"On Thursday last, in the night-time. The exact hour I know not," +replied the sexton. + +"Of what ailment?" + +"Neither do I know that. His end was sudden, yet not without a warning +sign." + +"What warning?" inquired Luke. + +"Neither more nor less than the death-omen of the house. You look +astonished. Is it possible you have never heard of the ominous +Lime-Tree, and the Fatal Bough? Why, 'tis a common tale hereabouts, and +has been for centuries. Any old crone would tell it you. Peradventure, +you _have_ seen the old avenue of lime-trees leading to the hall, nearly +a quarter of a mile in length, and as noble a row of timber as any in +the West Riding of Yorkshire. Well, there is one tree--the last on the +left hand before you come to the clock-house--larger than all the +rest--a huge piece of timber, with broad spreading branches, and of I +know not what girth in the trunk. That tree is, in some mysterious +manner, connected with the family of Rookwood, and immediately previous +to the death of one of that line, a branch is sure to be shed from the +parent stem, prognosticating his doom. But you shall hear the legend." +And in a strange sepulchral tone, not inappropriate, however, to his +subject, Peter chanted the following ballad: + + THE LEGEND OF THE LIME-TREE + + Amid the grove o'er-arched above with lime-trees old and tall + --The avenue that leads unto the Rookwood's ancient hall--, + High o'er the rest its towering crest one tree rears to the sky, + And wide out-flings, like mighty wings, its arms umbrageously. + + Seven yards its base would scarce embrace--a goodly tree I ween, + With silver bark, and foliage dark, of melancholy green; + And mid its boughs two ravens house, and build from year to year, + Their black brood hatch--their black brood watch--then screaming + disappear. + + In that old tree when playfully the summer breezes sigh, + Its leaves are stirred, and there is heard a low and plaintive cry; + And when in shrieks the storm blast speaks its reverend boughs among, + Sad wailing moans, like human groans, the concert harsh prolong. + + But whether gale or calm prevail, or threatening cloud hath fled, + By hand of Fate, predestinate, a limb that tree will shed; + A verdant bough--untouched, I trow, by axe or tempest's breath-- + To Rookwood's head an omen dread of fast-approaching death. + + Some think that tree instinct must be with preternatural power. + Like 'larum bell Death's note to knell at Fate's appointed hour; + While some avow that on its bough are fearful traces seen, + Red as the stains from human veins, commingling with the green. + + Others, again, there are maintain that on the shattered bark + A print is made, where fiends have laid their scathing talons dark; + That, ere it falls, the raven calls thrice from that wizard bough; + And that each cry doth signify what space the Fates allow. + + In olden days, the legend says, as grim Sir Ranulph view'd + A wretched hag her footsteps drag beneath his lordly wood. + His bloodhounds twain he called amain, and straightway gave her chase; + Was never seen in forest green, so fierce, so fleet a race! + + With eyes of flame to Ranulph came each red and ruthless hound, + While mangled, torn--a sight forlorn!--the hag lay on the ground; + E'en where she lay was turned the clay, and limb and reeking bone + Within the earth, with ribald mirth, by Ranulph grim were thrown. + + And while as yet the soil was wet with that poor witch's gore, + A lime-tree stake did Ranulph take, and pierced her bosom's core; + And, strange to tell, what next befell!--that branch at once took root, + And richly fed, within its bed, strong suckers forth did shoot. + + From year to year fresh boughs appear--it waxes huge in size; + And, with wild glee, this prodigy Sir Ranulph grim espies. + One day, when he, beneath that tree, reclined in joy and pride, + A branch was found upon the ground--the next, Sir Ranulph died! + + And from that hour a fatal power has ruled that Wizard Tree, + To Ranulph's line a warning sign of doom and destiny: + For when a bough is found, I trow, beneath its shade to lie, + Ere suns shall rise thrice in the skies a Rookwood sure shall die! + +"And such an omen preceded Sir Piers's demise?" said Luke, who had +listened with some attention to his grandsire's song. + +"Unquestionably," replied the sexton. "Not longer ago than Tuesday +morning, I happened to be sauntering down the avenue I have just +described. I know not what took me thither at that early hour, but I +wandered leisurely on till I came nigh the Wizard Lime-Tree. Great +Heaven! what a surprise awaited me! a huge branch lay right across the +path. It had evidently just fallen, for the leaves were green and +unwithered; the sap still oozed from the splintered wood; and there was +neither trace of knife nor hatchet on the bark. I looked up among the +boughs to mark the spot from whence it had been torn by the hand of +Fate--for no human hand had done it--and saw the pair of ancestral +ravens perched amid the foliage, and croaking as those carrion fowl are +wont to do when they scent a carcass afar off. Just then a livelier +sound saluted my ears. The cheering cry of a pack of hounds resounded +from the courts, and the great gates being thrown open, out issued Sir +Piers, attended by a troop of his roystering companions, all on +horseback, and all making the welkin ring with their vociferations. Sir +Piers laughed as loudly as the rest, but his mirth was speedily checked. +No sooner had his horse--old Rook, his favorite steed, who never swerved +at stake or pale before--set eyes upon the accursed branch, than he +started as if the fiend stood before him, and, rearing backwards, flung +his rider from the saddle. At this moment, with loud screams, the wizard +ravens took flight. Sir Piers was somewhat hurt by the fall, but he was +more frightened than hurt; and though he tried to put a bold face on the +matter, it was plain that his efforts to recover himself were fruitless. +Dr. Titus Tyrconnel and that wild fellow Jack Palmer--who has lately +come to the hall, and of whom you know something--tried to rally him. +But it would not do. He broke up the day's sport, and returned +dejectedly to the hall. Before departing, however, he addressed a word +to me in private, respecting you; and pointed, with a melancholy shake +of the head, to the fatal branch. '_It is my death-warrant_,' said he, +gloomily. And so it proved; two days afterwards his doom was +accomplished." + +"And do you place faith in this idle legend?" asked Luke, with affected +indifference, although it was evident, from his manner, that he himself +was not so entirely free from a superstitious feeling of credulity as he +would have it appear. + +"Certes," replied the sexton. "I were more difficult to be convinced +than the unbelieving disciple else. Thrice hath it occurred to my own +knowledge, and ever with the same result: first, with Sir Reginald; +secondly, with thy own mother; and lastly, as I have just told thee, +with Sir Piers." + +"I thought you said, even now, that this death omen, if such it be, was +always confined to the immediate family of Rookwood, and not to mere +inmates of the mansion." + +"To the heads only of that house, be they male or female." + +"Then how could it apply to my mother? Was _she_ of that house? Was +_she_ a wife?" + +"Who shall say she was _not_?" rejoined the sexton. + +"Who shall say she _was_ so?" cried Luke, repeating the words with +indignant emphasis--"who will avouch _that_?" + +A smile, cold as a wintry sunbeam, played upon the sexton's rigid lips. + +"I will bear this no longer," cried Luke; "anger me not, or look to +yourself. In a word, have you anything to tell me respecting her? if +not, let me begone." + +"I have. But I will not be hurried by a boy like you," replied Peter, +doggedly. "Go, if you will, and take the consequences. My lips are +sealed forever, and I have much to say--much that it behoves you to +know." + +"Be brief, then. When you sought me out this morning, in my retreat with +the gipsy gang at Davenham Wood, you bade me meet you in the porch of +Rookwood Church at midnight. I was true to my appointment." + +"And I will keep my promise," replied the sexton. "Draw closer, that I +may whisper in thine ear. Of every Rookwood who lies around us--and all +that ever bore the name, except Sir Piers himself--who lies in state at +the hall--, are here--not one--mark what I say--not one male branch of +the house but has been suspected----" + +"Of what?" + +"Of murder!" returned the sexton, in a hissing whisper. + +"Murder!" echoed Luke, recoiling. + +"There is one dark stain--one foul blot on all. Blood--blood hath been +spilt." + +"By all?" + +"Ay, and _such_ blood! theirs was no common crime. Even murder hath its +degrees. Theirs was of the first class." + +"Their wives!--you cannot mean that?" + +"Ay, their wives!--I do. You have heard it, then? Ha! ha! 'tis a trick +they had. Did you ever hear the old saying? + + _No mate ever brook would + A Rook of the Rookwood!_ + +A merry saying it is, and true. No woman ever stood in a Rookwood's way +but she was speedily removed--that's certain. They had all, save poor +Sir Piers, the knack of stopping a troublesome woman's tongue, and +practised it to perfection. A rare art, eh?" + +"What have the misdeeds of his ancestry to do with Sir Piers," muttered +Luke, "much less with my mother?" + +"Everything. If he could not rid himself of his wife--and she is a match +for the devil himself--, the _mistress_ might be more readily set +aside." + +"Have you absolute knowledge of aught?" asked Luke, his voice tremulous +with emotion. + +"Nay, I but hinted." + +"Such hints are worse than open speech. Let me know the worst. Did he +kill her?" And Luke glared at the sexton as if he would have penetrated +his secret soul. + +But Peter was not easily fathomed. His cold, bright eye returned Luke's +gaze steadfastly, as he answered, composedly: + +"I have said all I know." + +"But not all you _think_." + +"Thoughts should not always find utterance, else we might often endanger +our own safety, and that of others." + +"An idle subterfuge--and, from you, worse than idle. I will have an +answer, yea or nay. Was it poison--was it steel?" + +"Enough--she died." + +"No, it is not enough. When? Where?" + +"In her sleep--in her bed." + +"Why, that was natural." + +A wrinkling smile crossed the sexton's brow. + +"What means that horrible gleam of laughter?" exclaimed Luke, grasping +the shoulder of the man of graves with such force as nearly to +annihilate him. "Speak, or I will strangle you. She died, you say, in +her sleep?" + +"She did so," replied the sexton, shaking off Luke's hold. + +"And was it to tell me that I had a mother's murder to avenge, that you +brought me to the tomb of her destroyer--when he is beyond the reach of +my vengeance?" + +Luke exhibited so much frantic violence of manner and gesture, that the +sexton entertained some little apprehension that his intellects were +unsettled by the shock of the intelligence. It was, therefore, in what +he intended for a soothing tone that he attempted to solicit his +grandson's attention. + +"I will hear nothing more," interrupted Luke, and the vaulted chamber +rang with his passionate lamentations. "Am I the sport of this mocking +fiend?" cried he, "to whom my agony is derision--my despair a source of +enjoyment--beneath whose withering glance my spirit shrinks--who, with +half-expressed insinuations, tortures my soul, awakening fancies that +goad me on to dark and desperate deeds? Dead mother! upon thee I call. +If in thy grave thou canst hear the cry of thy most wretched son, +yearning to avenge thee--answer me, if thou hast the power. Let me have +some token of the truth or falsity of these wild suppositions, that I +may wrestle against this demon. But no," added he, in accents of +despair, "no ear listens to me, save his to whom my wretchedness is food +for mockery." + +"Could the dead hear thee, thy mother might do so," returned the sexton. +"She lies within this space." + +Luke staggered back, as if struck by a sudden shot. He spoke not, but +fell with a violent shock against a pile of coffins, at which he caught +for support. + +"What have I done?" he exclaimed, recoiling. + +A thundering crash resounded through the vault. One of the coffins, +dislodged from its position by his fall, tumbled to the ground, and, +alighting upon its side, split asunder. + +"Great Heavens! what is this?" cried Luke, as a dead body, clothed in +all the hideous apparel of the tomb, rolled forth to his feet. + +"It is your mother's corpse," answered the sexton, coldly; "I brought +you hither to behold it. But you have anticipated my intentions." + +"_This_ my mother?" shrieked Luke, dropping upon his knees by the body, +and seizing one of its chilly hands, as it lay upon the floor, with the +face upwards. + +The sexton took the candle from the sconce. + +"Can this be death?" shouted Luke. "Impossible! Oh, God! she stirs--she +moves. The light!--quick. I see her stir! This is dreadful!" + +"Do not deceive yourself," said the sexton, in a tone which betrayed +more emotion than was his wont. "'Tis the bewilderment of fancy. She +will never stir again." + +And he shaded the candle with his hand, so as to throw the light full +upon the face of the corpse. It was motionless, as that of an image +carved in stone. No trace of corruption was visible upon the rigid, yet +exquisite tracery of its features. A profuse cloud of raven hair, +escaped from its swathements in the fall, hung like a dark veil over the +bosom and person of the dead, and presented a startling contrast to the +waxlike hue of the skin and the pallid cereclothes. Flesh still adhered +to the hand, though it mouldered into dust within the gripe of Luke, as +he pressed the fingers to his lips. The shroud was disposed like +night-gear about her person, and from without its folds a few withered +flowers had fallen. A strong aromatic odor, of a pungent nature, was +diffused around; giving evidence that the art by which the ancient +Egyptians endeavored to rescue their kindred from decomposition had been +resorted to, to preserve the fleeting charms of the unfortunate Susan +Bradley. + +A pause of awful silence succeeded, broken only by the convulsive +respiration of Luke. The sexton stood by, apparently an indifferent +spectator of the scene of horror. His eye wandered from the dead to the +living, and gleamed with a peculiar and indefinable expression, half +apathy, half abstraction. For one single instant, as he scrutinized the +features of his daughter, his brow, contracted by anger, immediately +afterwards was elevated in scorn. But otherwise you would have sought in +vain to read the purport of that cold, insensible glance, which dwelt +for a brief space on the face of the mother, and settled eventually upon +her son. At length the withered flowers attracted his attention. He +stooped to pick up one of them. + +"Faded as the hand that gathered ye--as the bosom on which ye were +strewn!" he murmured. "No sweet smell left--but--faugh!" Holding the dry +leaves to the flame of the candle, they were instantly ignited, and the +momentary brilliance played like a smile upon the features of the dead. +Peter observed the effect. "Such was thy life," he exclaimed; "a brief, +bright sparkle, followed by dark, utter extinction!" + +Saying which, he flung the expiring ashes of the floweret from his hand. + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_THE SKELETON HAND_ + + _Duch._ You are very cold. + I fear you are not well after your travel. + Ha! lights.----Oh horrible! + + _Fer._ Let her have lights enough. + + _Duch._ What witchcraft doth he practise, that he hath left + A dead hand here? + + _Duchess of Malfy._ + + +The sexton's waning candle now warned him of the progress of time, and +having completed his arrangements, he addressed himself to Luke, +intimating his intention of departing. But receiving no answer, and +remarking no signs of life about his grandson, he began to be +apprehensive that he had fallen into a swoon. Drawing near to Luke, he +took him gently by the arm. Thus disturbed, Luke groaned aloud. + +"I am glad to find you can breathe, if it be only after that melancholy +fashion," said the sexton; "but come, I have wasted time enough already. +You must indulge your grief elsewhere." + +"Leave me," sighed Luke. + +"What, here? It were as much as my office is worth. You can return some +other night. But go you must, now--at least, if you take on thus. I +never calculated upon a scene like this, or it had been long ere I +brought you hither. So come away; yet, stay;--but first lend me a hand +to replace the body in the coffin." + +"Touch it not," exclaimed Luke; "she shall not rest another hour within +these accursed walls. I will bear her hence myself." And, sobbing +hysterically, he relapsed into his former insensibility. + +"Poh! this is worse than midsummer madness," said Peter; "the lad is +crazed with grief, and all about a mother who has been four-and-twenty +years in her grave. I will e'en put her out of the way myself." + +Saying which, he proceeded, as noiselessly as possible, to raise the +corpse in his arms, and deposited it softly within its former tenement. +Carefully as he executed his task, he could not accomplish it without +occasioning a slight accident to the fragile frame. Insensible as he +was, Luke had not relinquished the hold he maintained of his mother's +hand. And when Peter lifted the body, the ligaments connecting the hand +with the arm were suddenly snapped asunder. It would appear afterwards, +that this joint had been tampered with, and partially dislocated. +Without, however, entering into further particulars in this place, it +may be sufficient to observe that the hand, detached from the socket at +the wrist, remained within the gripe of Luke; while, ignorant of the +mischief he had occasioned, the sexton continued his labors +unconsciously, until the noise which he of necessity made in stamping +with his heel upon the plank, recalled his grandson to sensibility. The +first thing that the latter perceived, upon collecting his faculties, +were the skeleton fingers twined within his own. + +"What have you done with the body? Why have you left this with me?" +demanded he. + +"It was not my intention to have done so," answered the sexton, +suspending his occupation. "I have just made fast the lid, but it is +easily undone. You had better restore it." + +"Never," returned Luke, staring at the bony fragment. + +"Pshaw! of what advantage is a dead hand? 'Tis an unlucky keepsake, and +will lead to mischief. The only use I ever heard of such a thing being +turned to, was in the case of Bow-legged Ben, who was hanged in irons +for murder, on Hardchase Heath, on the York Road, and whose hand was cut +off at the wrist the first night to make a Hand of Glory, or Dead Man's +Candle. Hast never heard what the old song says?" And without awaiting +his grandson's response, Peter broke into the following wild strain: + + THE HAND OF GLORY[1] + + From the corse that hangs on the roadside tree + --A murderer's corse it needs must be--, + Sever the right hand carefully:-- + Sever the hand that the deed hath done, + Ere the flesh that clings to the bones be gone; + In its dry veins must blood be none. + Those ghastly fingers white and cold, + Within a winding-sheet enfold; + Count the mystic count of seven: + Name the Governors of Heaven.[2] + Then in earthen vessel place them, + And with dragon-wort encase them, + Bleach them in the noonday sun, + Till the marrow melt and run, + Till the flesh is pale and wan, + As a moon-ensilvered cloud, + As an unpolluted shroud. + Next within their chill embrace + The dead man's Awful Candle place; + Of murderer's fat must that candle be + --You may scoop it beneath the roadside tree--, + Of wax, and of Lapland sisame. + Its wick must be twisted of hair of the dead, + By the crow and her brood on the wild waste shed. + Wherever that terrible light shall burn + Vainly the sleeper may toss and turn; + His leaden lids shall he ne'er unclose + So long as that magical taper glows. + Life and treasures shall he command + Who knoweth the charm of the Glorious Hand! + But of black cat's gall let him aye have care, + And of screech-owl's venomous blood beware! + +"Peace!" thundered Luke, extending his mother's hand towards the sexton. +"What seest thou?" + +"I see something shine. Hold it nigher the light. Ha! that is strange, +truly. How came that ring there?" + +"Ask of Sir Piers! ask of her _husband_!" shouted Luke, with a wild +burst of exulting laughter. "Ha! ha! ha! 'tis a wedding-ring! And look! +the finger is bent. It must have been placed upon it in her lifetime. +There is no deception in this--no trickery--ha!" + +"It would seem not; the sinew must have been contracted in life. The +tendons are pulled down so tightly, that the ring could not be withdrawn +without breaking the finger." + +"You are sure that coffin contains her body?" + +"As sure as I am that this carcass is my own." + +"The hand--'tis hers. Can any doubt exist?" + +"Wherefore should it? It was broken from the arm by accident within this +moment. I noticed not the occurrence, but it must have been so." + +"Then it follows that she was wedded, and I am not----" + +"Illegitimate. For your own sake I am glad of it." + +"My heart will burst. Oh! could I but establish the fact of this +marriage, her wrongs would be indeed avenged." + +"Listen to me, Luke," said the sexton, solemnly. "I told you, when I +appointed this midnight interview, I had a secret to communicate. That +secret is now revealed--that secret was your mother's marriage." + +"And it was known to you during her lifetime?" + +"It was. But I was sworn to secrecy." + +"You have proofs then?" + +"I have nothing beyond Sir Piers's word--and he is silent now." + +"By whom was the ceremony performed?" + +"By a Romish priest--a Jesuit--one Father Checkley, at that time an +inmate of the hall; for Sir Piers, though he afterwards abjured it, at +that time professed the Catholic faith, and this Checkley officiated as +his confessor and counsellor; as the partner of his pleasures, and the +prompter of his iniquities. He was your father's evil genius." + +"Is he still alive?" + +"I know not. After your mother's death he left the hall. I have said he +was a Jesuit, and I may add, that he was mixed up in dark political +intrigues, in which your father was too feeble a character to take much +share. But though too weak to guide, he was a pliant instrument, and +this Checkley knew. He moulded him according to his wishes. I cannot +tell you what was the nature of their plots. Suffice it, they were such +as, if discovered, would have involved your father in ruin. He was +saved, however, by his wife." + +"And her reward----" groaned Luke. + +"Was death," replied Peter, coldly. "What Jesuit ever forgave a +wrong--real or imaginary? Your mother, I ought to have said, was a +Protestant. Hence there was a difference of religious opinion--the worst +of differences that can exist between husband and wife--. Checkley vowed +her destruction, and he kept his vow. He was enamored of her beauty. +But while he burnt with adulterous desire, he was consumed by fiercest +hate--contending, and yet strangely-reconcilable passions--as you may +have reason, hereafter, to discover." + +"Go on," said Luke, grinding his teeth. + +"I have done," returned Peter. "From that hour your father's love for +his supposed mistress, and unacknowledged wife, declined; and with his +waning love declined her health. I will not waste words in describing +the catastrophe that awaited her union. It will be enough to say, she +was found one morning a corpse within her bed. Whatever suspicions were +attached to Sir Piers were quieted by Checkley, who distributed gold, +largely and discreetly. The body was embalmed by Barbara Lovel, the +Gipsy Queen." + +"My foster-mother!" exclaimed Luke, in a tone of extreme astonishment. + +"Ah," replied Peter, "from her you may learn all particulars. You have +now seen what remains of your mother. You are in possession of the +secret of your birth. The path is before you, and if you would arrive at +honor you must pursue it steadily, turning neither to the right nor to +the left. Opposition you will meet at each step. But fresh lights may be +thrown upon this difficult case. It is in vain to hope for Checkley's +evidence, even should the caitiff priest be living. He is himself too +deeply implicated--ha!" + +Peter stopped, for at this moment the flame of the candle suddenly +expired, and the speakers were left in total darkness. Something like a +groan followed the conclusion of the sexton's discourse. It was evident +that it proceeded not from his grandson, as an exclamation burst from +him at the same instant. Luke stretched out his arm. A cold hand seemed +to press against his own, communicating a chill like death to his frame. + +"Who is between us?" he ejaculated. + +"The devil!" cried the sexton, leaping from the coffin-lid with an +agility that did him honor. "Is aught between us?" + +"I will discharge my gun. Its flash will light us." + +"Do so," hastily rejoined Peter. "But not in this direction." + +"Get behind me," cried Luke. And he pulled the trigger. + +A blaze of vivid light illumined the darkness. Still nothing was +visible, save the warrior figure, which was seen for a moment, and then +vanished like a ghost. The buck-shot rattled against the further end of +the vault. + +"Let us go hence," ejaculated the sexton, who had rushed to the door, +and thrown it wide open. "Mole! Mole!" cried he, and the dog sprang +after him. + +"I could have sworn I felt something," said Luke; "whence issued that +groan?" + +"Ask not whence," replied Peter. "Reach me my mattock, and spade, and +the lantern; they are behind you. And stay, it were better to bring away +the bottle." + +"Take them, and leave me here." + +"Alone in the vault?--no, no, Luke, I have not told you half I know +concerning that mystic statue. It is said to move--to walk--to raise its +axe--be warned, I pray." + +"Leave me, or abide, if you will, my coming, in the church. If there is +aught that may be revealed to my ear alone, I will not shrink from it, +though the dead themselves should arise to proclaim the mystery. It may +be--but--go--there are your tools." And he shut the door, with a jar +that shook the sexton's frame. + +Peter, after some muttered murmurings at the hardihood and madness, as +he termed it, of his grandson, disposed his lanky limbs to repose upon a +cushioned bench without the communion railing. As the pale moonlight +fell upon his gaunt and cadaverous visage, he looked like some unholy +thing suddenly annihilated by the presiding influence of that sacred +spot. Mole crouched himself in a ring at his master's feet. Peter had +not dozed many minutes, when he was aroused by Luke's return. The latter +was very pale, and the damp stood in big drops upon his brow. + +"Have you made fast the door?" inquired the sexton. + +"Here is the key." + +"What have you seen?" he next demanded. + +Luke made no answer. At that moment, the church clock struck two, +breaking the stillness with an iron clang. Luke raised his eyes. A ray +of moonlight, streaming obliquely through the painted window, fell upon +the gilt lettering of a black mural entablature. The lower part of the +inscription was in the shade, but the emblazonment, and the words-- + + Orate pro anima Reginaldi Rookwood equitis aurati, + +were clear and distinct. Luke trembled, he knew not why, as the sexton +pointed to it. + +"You have heard of the handwriting upon the wall," said Peter. "Look +there!--'His kingdom hath been taken from him.' Ha, ha! Listen to me. Of +all thy monster race--of all the race of Rookwood I should say--no demon +ever stalked the earth more terrible than him whose tablet you now +behold. By him a brother was betrayed; by him a brother's wife was +dishonored. Love, honor, friendship, were with him as words. He regarded +no ties; he defied and set at naught all human laws and obligations--and +yet he was religious, or esteemed so--received the _viaticum_, and died +full of years and honors, hugging salvation to his sinful heart. And +after death he has yon lying epitaph to record his virtues. _His_ +virtues! ha, ha! Ask him who preaches to the kneeling throng gathering +within this holy place what shall be the murderer's portion--and he will +answer--_Death!_ And yet Sir Reginald was long-lived. The awful +question, 'Cain, where is thy brother?' broke not his tranquil slumbers. +Luke, I have told you much--but not all. You know not, as yet--nor shall +you know your destiny; but you shall be the avenger of infamy and +blood. I have a sacred charge committed to my keeping, which, hereafter, +I may delegate to you. You _shall_ be Sir Luke Rookwood, but the +conditions must be mine to propose." + +"No more," said Luke; "my brain reels. I am faint. Let us quit this +place, and get into the fresh air." And striding past his grandsire he +traversed the aisles with hasty steps. Peter was not slow to follow. The +key was applied, and they emerged into the churchyard. The grassy mounds +were bathed in the moonbeams, and the two yew-trees, throwing their +black jagged shadows over the grave hills, looked like evil spirits +brooding over the repose of the righteous. + +The sexton noticed the deathly paleness of Luke's countenance, but he +fancied it might proceed from the tinge of the sallow moonlight. + +"I will be with you at your cottage ere daybreak," said Luke. And +turning an angle of the church, he disappeared from view. + +"So," exclaimed Peter, gazing after him, "the train is laid; the spark +has been applied; the explosion will soon follow. The hour is fast +approaching when I shall behold this accursed house shaken to dust, and +when my long-delayed vengeance will be gratified. In that hope I am +content to drag on the brief remnant of my days. Meanwhile, I must not +omit the stimulant. In a short time I may not require it." Draining the +bottle to the last drop, he flung it from him, and commenced chanting, +in a high key and cracked voice, a wild ditty, the words of which ran as +follow: + + THE CARRION CROW + + The Carrion Crow is a sexton bold. + He raketh the dead from out the mould; + He delveth the ground like a miser old, + Stealthily hiding his store of gold. + _Caw! Caw!_ + + The Carrion Crow hath a coat of black, + Silky and sleek like a priest's to his back; + Like a lawyer he grubbeth--no matter what way-- + The fouler the offal, the richer his prey. + _Caw! Caw! the Carrion Crow!_ + _Dig! Dig! in the ground below!_ + + The Carrion Crow hath a dainty maw, + With savory pickings he crammeth his craw; + Kept meat from the gibbet it pleaseth his whim, + It can never _hang_ too long for him! + _Caw! Caw!_ + + The Carrion Crow smelleth powder, 'tis said, + Like a soldier escheweth the taste of cold lead; + No jester, or mime, hath more marvellous wit, + For, wherever he lighteth, he maketh a hit! + _Caw! Caw! the Carrion Crow!_ + _Dig! Dig! in the ground below!_ + +Shouldering his spade, and whistling to his dog, the sexton quitted the +churchyard. + +Peter had not been gone many seconds, when a dark figure, muffled in a +wide black mantle, emerged from among the tombs surrounding the church; +gazed after him for a few seconds, and then, with a menacing gesture, +retreated behind the ivied buttresses of the gray old pile. + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_THE PARK_ + + _Brian._ Ralph! hearest thou any stirring? + + _Ralph._ I heard one speak here, hard by, in the hollow. Peace! + master, speak low. Nouns! if I do not hear a bow go off, and the + buck bray, I never heard deer in my life. + + _Bri._ Stand, or I'll shoot. + + _Sir Arthur._ Who's there? + + _Bri._ I am the keeper, and do charge you stand. + You have stolen my deer. + + _Merry Devil of Edmonton._ + + +Luke's first impulse had been to free himself from the restraint imposed +by his grandsire's society. He longed to commune with himself. Leaping +the small boundary-wall, which defended the churchyard from a deep green +lane, he hurried along in a direction contrary to that taken by the +sexton, making the best of his way until he arrived at a gap in the +high-banked hazel hedge which overhung the road. Heedless of the +impediments thrown in his way by the undergrowth of a rough ring fence, +he struck through the opening that presented itself, and, climbing over +the moss-grown paling, trod presently upon the elastic sward of Rookwood +Park. + +A few minutes' rapid walking brought him to the summit of a rising +ground crowned with aged oaks and, as he passed beneath their broad +shadows, his troubled spirit, soothed by the quietude of the scene, in +part resumed its serenity. + +Luke yielded to the gentle influence of the time and hour. The stillness +of the spot allayed the irritation of his frame, and the dewy chillness +cooled the fever of his brow. Leaning for support against the gnarled +trunk of one of the trees, he gave himself up to contemplation. The +events of the last hour--of his whole existence--passed in rapid review +before him. The thought of the wayward, vagabond life he had led; of the +wild adventures of his youth; of all he had been; of all he had _done_, +of all he had endured--crowded his mind; and then, like the passing of a +cloud flitting across the autumnal moon, and occasionally obscuring the +smiling landscape before him, his soul was shadowed by the remembrance +of the awful revelations of the last hour, and the fearful knowledge he +had acquired of his mother's fate--of his father's guilt. + +The eminence on which he stood was one of the highest points of the +park, and commanded a view of the hall, which might be a quarter of a +mile distant, discernible through a broken vista of trees, its whitened +walls glimmering in the moonlight, and its tall chimney spiring far from +out the round masses of wood in which it lay embosomed. The ground +gradually sloped in that direction, occasionally rising into swells, +studded with magnificent timber--dipping into smooth dells, or +stretching out into level glades, until it suddenly sank into a deep +declivity, that formed an effectual division, without the intervention +of a haw-haw, or other barrier, between the chase and the home-park. A +slender stream strayed through this ravine, having found its way thither +from a small reservoir, hidden in the higher plantations to the left; +and further on, in the open ground, and in a line with the hall, though, +of course, much below the level of the building, assisted by many local +springs, and restrained by a variety of natural and artificial +embankments, this brook spread out into an expansive sheet of water. +Crossed by a rustic bridge, the only communication between the parks, +the pool found its outlet into the meads below; and even at that +distance, and in that still hour, you might almost catch the sound of +the brawling waters, as they dashed down the weir in a foaming cascade; +while, far away, in the spreading valley, the serpentine meanderings of +the slender current might be traced, glittering like silvery threads in +the moonshine. The mild beams of the queen of night, then in her +meridian, trembled upon the topmost branches of the tall timber, +quivering like diamond spray upon the outer foliage; and, penetrating +through the interstices of the trees, fell upon the light wreaths of +vapor then beginning to arise from the surface of the pool, steeping +them in misty splendor, and lending to this part of the picture a +character of dreamy and unearthly beauty. + +All else was in unison. No sound interrupted the silence of Luke's +solitude, except the hooting of a large gray owl, that, scared at his +approach, or in search of prey, winged its spectral flight in continuous +and mazy circles round his head, uttering at each wheel its startling +whoop; or a deep, distant bay, that ever and anon boomed upon the ear, +proceeding from a pack of hounds kennelled in a shed adjoining the pool +before mentioned, but which was shrouded from view by the rising mist. +No living objects presented themselves, save a herd of deer, crouched in +a covert of brown fern beneath the shadow of a few stunted trees, +immediately below the point of land on which Luke stood; and although +their branching antlers could scarcely be detected from the +ramifications of the wood itself, they escaped not his practised ken. + +"How often," murmured Luke, "in years gone by, have I traversed these +moonlit glades, and wandered amidst these woodlands, on nights heavenly +as this--ay, and to some purpose, as yon thinned herd might testify! +Every dingle, every dell, every rising brow, every bosky vale and +shelving covert, have been as familiar to my track as to that of the +fleetest and freest of their number: scarce a tree amidst the thickest +of yon outstretching forest with which I cannot claim acquaintance; 'tis +long since I have seen them. By Heavens! 'tis beautiful! and it is all +my own! Can I forget that it was here I first emancipated myself from +thraldom? Can I forget the boundless feeling of delight that danced +within my veins when I first threw off the yoke of servitude, and roved +unshackled, unrestrained, amidst these woods? The wild intoxicating +bliss still tingles to my heart. And they are all my own--my own! +Softly, what have we there?" + +Luke's attention was arrested by an object which could not fail to +interest him, sportsman as he was. A snorting bray was heard, and a +lordly stag stalked slowly and majestically from out the copse. Luke +watched the actions of the noble animal with great interest, drawing +back into the shade. A hundred yards, or thereabouts, might be between +him and the buck. It was within range of ball. Luke mechanically grasped +his gun; yet his hand had scarcely raised the piece half way to his +shoulder, when he dropped it again to its rest. + +"What am I about to do?" he mentally ejaculated. "Why, for mere pastime, +should I take away yon noble creature's life, when his carcass would be +utterly useless to me? Yet such is the force of habit, that I can scarce +resist the impulse that tempted me to fire; and I have known the time, +and that not long since, when I should have shown no such self-control." + +Unconscious of the danger it had escaped, the animal moved forward with +the same stately step. Suddenly it stopped, with ears pricked, as if +some sound had smote them. At that instant the click of a gun-lock was +heard, at a little distance to the right. The piece had missed fire. An +instantaneous report from another gun succeeded; and, with a bound high +in air, the buck fell upon his back, struggling in the agonies of death. +Luke had at once divined the cause; he was aware that poachers were at +hand. He fancied that he knew the parties; nor was he deceived in his +conjecture. Two figures issued instantly from a covert on the right, and +making to the spot, the first who reached it put an end to the animal's +struggles by plunging a knife into its throat. The affrighted herd took +to their heels, and were seen darting swiftly down the chase. + +One of the twain, meantime, was occupied in feeling for the deer's fat, +when he was approached by the other, who pointed in the direction of the +house. The former raised himself from his kneeling posture, and both +appeared to listen attentively. Luke fancied he heard a slight sound in +the distance; whatever the noise proceeded from, it was evident the +deer-stealers were alarmed. They laid hold of the buck, and, dragging it +along, concealed the carcass among the tall fern; they then retreated, +halting for an instant to deliberate, within a few yards of Luke, who +was concealed from their view by the trunk of the tree, behind which he +had ensconced his person. They were so near, that he lost not a word of +their muttered conference. + +"The game's spoiled this time, Rob Rust, any how," growled one, in an +angry tone; "the hawks are upon us, and we must leave this brave buck to +take care of himself. Curse him!--who'd 'a' thought of Hugh Badger's +quitting his bed to-night? Respect for his late master might have kept +him quiet the night before the funeral. But look out, lad. Dost see +'em?" + +"Ay, thanks to old Oliver--yonder they are," returned the other. +"One--two--three--and a muzzled bouser to boot. There's Hugh at the head +on 'em. Shall we stand and show fight? I have half a mind for it." + +"No, no," replied the first speaker; "that will never do, Rob--no +fighting. Why run the risk of being grabb'd for a haunch of venison? Had +Luke Bradley or Jack Palmer been with us, it might have been another +affair. As it is, it won't pay. Besides, we've that to do at the hall +to-morrow night that may make men of us for the rest of our nat'ral +lives. We've pledged ourselves to Jack Palmer, and we can't be off in +honor. It won't do to be snabbled in the nick of it. So let's make for +the prad in the lane. Keep in the shade as much as you can. Come along, +my hearty." And away the two worthies scampered down the hill-side. + +"Shall I follow," thought Luke, "and run the risk of falling into the +keeper's hand, just at this crisis, too? No, but if I am found here, I +shall be taken for one of the gang. Something must be done--ha!--devil +take them, here they are already." + +Further time was not allowed him for reflection. A hoarse baying was +heard, followed by a loud cry from the keepers. The dog had scented out +the game; and, as secrecy was no longer necessary, his muzzle had been +removed. To rush forth now were certain betrayal; to remain was almost +equally assured detection; and, doubting whether he should obtain +credence if he delivered himself over in that garb and armed, Luke at +once rejected the idea. Just then it flashed across his recollection +that his gun had remained unloaded, and he applied himself eagerly to +repair this negligence, when he heard the dog in full cry, making +swiftly in his direction. He threw himself upon the ground, where the +fern was thickest; but this seemed insufficient to baffle the sagacity +of the hound--the animal had got his scent, and was baying close at +hand. The keepers were drawing nigh. Luke gave himself up for lost. The +dog, however, stopped where the two poachers had halted, and was there +completely at fault: snuffing the ground, he bayed, wheeled round, and +then set off with renewed barking upon their track. Hugh Badger and his +comrades loitered an instant at the same place, looked warily round, and +then, as Luke conjectured, followed the course taken by the hound. + +Swift as thought, Luke arose, and keeping as much as possible under +cover of the trees, started in a cross line for the lane. Rapid as was +his flight, it was not without a witness: one of the keeper's +assistants, who had lagged behind, gave the view-halloo in a loud voice. +Luke pressed forward with redoubled energy, endeavoring to gain the +shelter of the plantation, and this he could readily have accomplished, +had no impediment been in his way. But his rage and vexation were +boundless, when he heard the keeper's cry echoed by shouts immediately +below him, and the tongue of the hound resounding in the hollow. He +turned sharply round, steering a middle course, and still aiming at the +fence. It was evident, from the cheers of his pursuers, that he was in +full view, and he heard them encouraging and directing the dog. + +Luke had gained the park palings, along which he rushed, in the vain +quest of some practicable point of egress, for the fence was higher in +this part of the park than elsewhere, owing to the inequality of the +ground. He had cast away his gun as useless. But even without that +incumbrance, he dared not hazard the delay of climbing the palings. At +this juncture a deep breathing was heard close behind him. He threw a +glance over his shoulder. Within a few yards was a ferocious bloodhound, +with whose savage nature Luke was well acquainted; the breed, some of +which he had already seen, having been maintained at the hall ever since +the days of grim old Sir Ranulph. The eyes of the hound were glaring, +blood-red; his tongue was hanging out, and a row of keen white fangs was +displayed, like the teeth of a shark. There was a growl--a leap--and the +dog was close upon him. + +Luke's courage was undoubted. But his heart failed him as he heard the +roar of the remorseless brute, and felt that he could not avoid an +encounter with the animal. His resolution was instantly taken: he +stopped short with such suddenness, that the dog, when in the act of +springing, flew past him with great violence, and the time, momentary as +it was, occupied by the animal in recovering himself, enabled Luke to +drop on his knee, and to place one arm, like a buckler, before his face, +while he held the other in readiness to grapple his adversary. Uttering +a fierce yell, the hound returned to the charge, darting at Luke, who +received the assault without flinching; and in spite of a severe +laceration of the arm, he seized his foe by the throat, and hurling him +upon the ground, jumped with all his force upon his belly. There was a +yell of agony--the contest was ended, and Luke was at liberty to pursue +his flight unmolested. + +Brief as had been the interval required for this combat, it had been +sufficient to bring the pursuers within sight of the fugitive. Hugh +Badger, who from the acclivity had witnessed the fate of his favorite, +with a loud oath discharged the contents of his gun at the head of its +destroyer. It was fortunate for Luke that at this instant he stumbled +over the root of a tree--the shot rattled in the leaves as he fell, and +the keeper, concluding that he had at least winged his bird, descended +more leisurely towards him. As he lay upon the ground, Luke felt that he +was wounded; whether by the teeth of the dog, from a stray shot, or from +bruises inflicted by the fall, he could not determine. But, smarting +with pain, he resolved to wreak his vengeance upon the first person who +approached him. He vowed not to be taken with life--to strangle any who +should lay hands upon him. At that moment he felt a pressure at his +breast. It was the dead hand of his mother! + +Luke shuddered. The fire of revenge was quenched. He mentally cancelled +his rash oath; yet he could not bring himself to surrender at +discretion, and without further effort. The keeper and his assistants +were approaching the spot where he lay, and searching for his body. Hugh +Badger was foremost, and within a yard of him. + +"Confound the rascal!" cried Hugh, "he's not half killed; he seems to +breathe." + +The words were scarcely out of his mouth ere the speaker was dashed +backwards, and lay sprawling upon the sod. Suddenly and unexpectedly, as +an Indian chief might rush upon his foes, Luke arose, dashing himself +with great violence against Hugh, who happened to stand in his way, and +before the startled assistants, who were either too much taken by +surprise, or unwilling to draw a trigger, could in any way lay hands +upon him, exerting all the remarkable activity which he possessed, he +caught hold of a projecting branch of a tree, and swung himself, at a +single bound, fairly over the paling. + +Hugh Badger was shortly on his legs, swearing lustily at his defeat. +Directing his men to skirt alongside the fence, and make for a +particular part of the plantation which he named, and snatching a loaded +fowling-piece from one of them, he clambered over the pales, and guided +by the crashing branches and other sounds conveyed to his quick ear, he +was speedily upon Luke's track. + +The plantation through which the chase now took place was not, as might +be supposed, a continuation of the ring fence which Luke had originally +crossed on his entrance into the park, though girded by the same line of +paling, but, in reality, a close pheasant preserve, occupying the banks +of a ravine, which, after a deep and tortuous course, terminated in the +declivity heretofore described as forming the park boundary. Luke +plunged into the heart of this defile, fighting his way downwards, in +the direction of the brook. His progress was impeded by a thick +undergrowth of brier, and other matted vegetation, as well as by the +entanglements thrown in his way by the taller bushes of thorn and hazel, +the entwined and elastic branches of which, in their recoil, galled and +fretted him, by inflicting smart blows on his face and hands. This was a +hardship he usually little regarded. But, upon the present occasion, it +had the effect, by irritating his temper, of increasing the thirst of +vengeance raging in his bosom. + +Through the depths of the ravine welled the shallow stream before +alluded to, and Hugh Badger had no sooner reached its sedgy margin than +he lost all trace of the fugitive. He looked cautiously round, listened +intently, and inclined his ear to catch the faintest echo. All was +still: not a branch shook, not a leaf rustled. Hugh looked aghast. He +had made sure of getting a glimpse, and, perhaps, a stray shot at the +"poaching rascal," as he termed him, "in the open space, which he was +sure the fellow was aiming to reach; and now, all at once, he had +disappeared, like a will-o'-the-wisp or a boggart of the clough." +However, he could not be far off, and Hugh endeavored to obtain some +clue to guide him in his quest. He was not long in detecting recent +marks deeply indented in the mud on the opposite bank. Hugh leaped +thither at once. Further on, some rushes were trodden down, and there +were other indications of the course the fugitive had taken. + +"Hark forward!" shouted Hugh, in the joy of his heart at this discovery; +and, like a well-trained dog, he followed up with alacrity the scent he +had opened. The brook presented still fewer impediments to expedition +than the thick copse, and the keeper pursued the wanderings of the petty +current, occasionally splashing into the stream. Here and there, the +print of a foot on the soil satisfied him he was in the right path. At +length he became aware, from the crumbling soil, that the object of his +pursuit had scaled the bank, and he forthwith moderated his pace. +Halting, he perceived what he took to be a face peeping at him from +behind a knot of alders that overhung the steep and shelving bank +immediately above him. His gun was instantly at his shoulder. + +"Come down, you infernal deer-stealing scoundrel," cried Hugh, "or I'll +blow you to shivers." + +No answer was returned: expostulation was vain; and, fearful of placing +himself at a disadvantage if he attempted to scale the bank, Hugh fired +without further parley. The sharp discharge rolled in echoes down the +ravine, and a pheasant, scared by the sound, answered the challenge from +a neighboring tree. Hugh was an unerring marksman, and on this occasion +his aim had been steadily taken. The result was not precisely such as he +had anticipated. A fur cap, shaken by the shot from the bough on which +it hung, came rolling down the bank, proclaiming the _ruse_ that had +been practised upon the keeper. Little time was allowed him for +reflection. Before he could reload, he felt himself collared by the iron +arm of Luke. + +Hugh Badger was a man of great personal strength--square-set, +bandy-legged, with a prodigious width of chest, and a frame like a +Hercules, and, energetic as was Luke's assault, he maintained his ground +without flinching. The struggle was desperate. Luke was of slighter +proportion, though exceeding the keeper in stature by the head and +shoulders. This superiority availed him little. It was rather a +disadvantage in the conflict that ensued. The gripe fastened upon +Hugh's throat was like that of a clenched vice. But Luke might as well +have grappled the neck of a bull, as that of the stalwart keeper. +Defending himself with his hobnail boots, with which he inflicted +several severe blows upon Luke's shins, and struggling vehemently, Hugh +succeeded in extricating himself from his throttling grasp; he then +closed with his foe, and they were locked together, like a couple of +bears at play. Straining, tugging, and practising every sleight and +stratagem coming within the scope of feet, knees, and thighs--now +tripping, now jerking, now advancing, now retreating, they continued the +strife, but all with doubtful result. Victory, at length, seemed to +declare itself in favor of the sturdy keeper. Aware of his opponent's +strength, it was Luke's chief endeavor to keep his lower limbs +disengaged, and to trust more to skill than force for ultimate success. +To prevent this was Hugh's grand object. Guarding himself against every +feint, he ultimately succeeded in firmly grappling his agile assailant. +Luke's spine was almost broken by the shock, when he suddenly gave way; +and, without losing his balance, drew his adversary forward, kicking his +right leg from under him. With a crash like that of an uprooted oak, +Hugh fell, with his foe upon him, into the bed of the rivulet. + +Not a word had been spoken during the conflict. A convulsive groan burst +from Hugh's hardy breast. His hand sought his girdle, but in vain; his +knife was gone. Gazing upwards, his dancing vision encountered the +glimmer of the blade. The weapon had dropped from its case in the fall. +Luke brandished it before his eyes. + +"Villain!" gasped Hugh, ineffectually struggling to free himself, "you +will not murder me?" And his efforts to release himself became +desperate. + +"No," answered Luke, flinging the uplifted knife into the brook. "I will +not do _that_, though thou hast twice aimed at my life to-night. But I +will silence thee, at all events." Saying which, he dealt the keeper a +blow on the head that terminated all further resistance on his part. + +Leaving the inert mass to choke up the current, with whose waters the +blood, oozing from the wound, began to commingle, Luke prepared to +depart. His perils were not yet past. Guided by the firing, the report +of which alarmed them, the keeper's assistants hastened in the direction +of the sound, presenting themselves directly in the path Luke was about +to take. He had either to retrace his steps, or face a double enemy. His +election was made at once. He turned and fled. + +For an instant the men tarried with their bleeding companion. They then +dragged him from the brook, and with loud oaths followed in pursuit. + +Threading, for a second time, the bosky labyrinth, Luke sought the +source of the stream. This was precisely the course his enemies would +have desired him to pursue; and when they beheld him take it, they felt +confident of his capture. + +The sides of the hollow became more and more abrupt as they advanced, +though they were less covered with brushwood. The fugitive made no +attempt to climb the bank, but still pressed forward. The road was +tortuous, and wound round a jutting point of rock. Now he was a fair +mark--no, he had swept swiftly by, and was out of sight before a gun +could be raised. They reached the same point. He was still before them, +but his race was nearly run. Steep, slippery rocks, shelving down to the +edges of a small, deep pool of water, the source of the stream, formed +an apparently insurmountable barrier in that direction. Rooted--Heaven +knows how!--in some reft or fissure of the rock, grew a wild ash, +throwing out a few boughs over the solitary pool; this was all the +support Luke could hope for, should he attempt to scale the rock. The +rock was sheer--the pool deep--yet still he hurried on. He reached the +muddy embankment; mounted its sides; and seemed to hesitate. The keepers +were now within a hundred yards of him. Both guns were discharged. And, +sudden as the reports, with a dead, splashless plunge, like a diving +otter, the fugitive dropped into the water. + +The pursuers were at the brink. They gazed at the pool. A few bubbles +floated upon its surface, and burst. The water was slightly discolored +with sand. No ruddier stain crimsoned the tide; no figure rested on the +naked rock; no hand clung to the motionless tree. + +"Devil take the rascal!" growled one; "I hope he harn't escaped us, +arter all." + +"Noa, noa, he be fast enough, never fear," rejoined the other; "sticking +like a snig at the bottom o' the pond; and, dang him! he deserves it, +for he's slipped out of our fingers like a snig often enough to-night. +But come, let's be stumping, and give poor Hugh Badger a helping hand." + +Whereupon they returned to the assistance of the wounded and discomfited +keeper. + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_THE HALL_ + + I am right against my house--seat of my ancestors. + + _Yorkshire Tragedy._ + + +Rookwood Place was a fine, old, irregular pile, of considerable size, +presenting a rich, picturesque outline, with its innumerable gable-ends, +its fantastical coigns, and tall crest of twisted chimneys. There was no +uniformity of style about the building, yet the general effect was +pleasing and beautiful. Its very irregularity constituted a charm. +Nothing except convenience had been consulted in its construction: +additions had from time to time been made to it, but everything dropped +into its proper place, and, without apparent effort or design, grew into +an ornament, and heightened the beauty of the whole. It was, in short, +one of those glorious manorial houses that sometimes unexpectedly greet +us in our wanderings, and gladden us like the discovery of a hidden +treasure. Some such ancestral hall we have occasionally encountered, in +unlooked-for quarters, in our native county of Lancaster, or in its +smiling sister shire; and never without feelings of intense delight, +rejoicing to behold the freshness of its antiquity, and the greenness of +its old age. For, be it observed in passing, a Cheshire or Lancashire +hall, time-honored though it be, with its often renovated black and +white squares, fancifully filled up with trefoils and quatrefoils, +rosettes, and other figures, seems to bear its years so lightly, that +its age, so far from detracting from its beauty, only lends it a grace; +and the same mansion, to all outward appearance, fresh and perfect as it +existed in the days of good Queen Bess, may be seen in admirable +preservation in the days of the youthful Victoria. Such is Bramall--such +Moreton, and many another we might instance; the former of these houses +may, perhaps, be instanced as the best specimen of its class,--and its +class in our opinion, _is_ the best--to be met with in Cheshire, +considered with reference either to the finished decoration of its +exterior, rich in the chequered coloring we have alluded to, preserved +with a care and neatness almost Dutch, or to the consistent taste +exhibited by its possessor to the restoration and maintenance of all its +original and truly national beauty within doors. As an illustration of +old English hospitality--that real, hearty hospitality for which the +squirearchy of this country was once so famous--Ah! why have they +bartered it for other customs less substantially _English_?--it may be +mentioned, that a road conducted the passenger directly through the +great hall of this house, literally "of entertainment," where, if he +listed, strong ale, and other refreshments, awaited his acceptance and +courted his stay. Well might old King, the Cheshire historian, in the +pride of his honest heart, exclaim, "_I know divers men, who are but +farmers, that in their housekeeping may compare with a lord or baron, +in some countries beyond the seas;--yea, although I named a higher +degree, I were able to justify it._" We have no such "golden farmers" in +these degenerate days! + +The mansion, was originally built by Sir Ranulph de Rookwood--or, as it +was then written, Rokewode--the first of the name, a stout Yorkist, who +flourished in the reign of Edward IV., and received the fair domain and +broad lands upon which the edifice was raised, from his sovereign, in +reward for good service; retiring thither in the decline of life, at the +close of the Wars of the Roses, to sequestrate himself from scenes of +strife, and to consult his spiritual weal in the erection and endowment +of the neighboring church. It was of mixed architecture, and combined +the peculiarities of each successive era. Retaining some of the sterner +features of earlier days, the period ere yet the embattled manor-house +peculiar to the reigns of the later Henrys had been merged into the +graceful and peaceable hall, the residence of the Rookwoods had early +anticipated the gentler characteristics of a later day, though it could +boast little of that exuberance of external ornament, luxuriance of +design, and prodigality of beauty, which, under the sway of the Virgin +Queen, distinguished the residence of the wealthier English landowner; +and rendered the hall of Elizabeth, properly so called, the pride and +boast of our domestic architecture. + +The site selected by Sir Ranulph for his habitation had been already +occupied by a vast fabric of oak, which he in part removed, though some +vestiges might still be traced of that ancient pile. A massive edifice +succeeded, with gate and tower, court and moat complete; substantial +enough, one would have thought, to have endured for centuries. But even +this ponderous structure grew into disuse, and Sir Ranulph's successors, +remodelling, repairing, almost rebuilding the whole mansion, in the end +so metamorphosed its aspect, that at last little of its original and +distinctive character remained. Still, as we said before, it was a fine +old house, though some changes had taken place for the worse, which +could not be readily pardoned by the eye of taste: as, for instance, +the deep embayed windows had dwindled into modernized casements, of +lighter construction; the wide porch, with its flight of steps leading +to the great hall of entrance, had yielded to a narrow door; and the +broad quadrangular court was succeeded by a gravel drive. Yet, despite +all these changes, the house of the Rookwoods, for an old house--and, +after all, what is like an old house?--was no undesirable or uncongenial +abode for any worshipful country gentleman "who had a great estate." + +The hall was situated near the base of a gently declining hill, +terminating a noble avenue of limes, and partially embosomed in an +immemorial wood of the same timber, which had given its name to the +family that dwelt amongst its rook-haunted shades. Descending the +avenue, at the point of access afforded by a road that wound down the +hill-side, towards a village distant about half a mile, as you advanced, +the eye was first arrested by a singular octagonal turret of brick, of +more recent construction than the house; and in all probability +occupying the place where the gateway stood of yore. This tower rose to +a height corresponding with the roof of the mansion; and was embellished +on the side facing the house with a flamingly gilt dial, peering, like +an impudent observer, at all that passed within doors. Two apartments, +which it contained, were appropriated to the house-porter. Despoiled of +its martial honors, the gateway still displayed the achievements of the +family--the rook and the fatal branch--carved in granite, which had +resisted the storms of two centuries, though stained green with moss, +and mapped over with lichens. To the left, overgrown with ivy, and +peeping from out a tuft of trees, appeared the hoary summit of a +dovecot, indicating the near neighborhood of an ancient barn, +contemporary with the earliest dwelling-house, and of a little world of +offices and outbuildings buried in the thickness of the foliage. To the +right was the garden--the pleasaunce of the place--formal, precise, +old-fashioned, artificial, yet exquisite!--for commend us to the +bygone, beautiful English garden--_really a garden_--not that mixture of +park, meadow, and wilderness[3], brought up to one's very +windows--which, since the days of the innovators, Kent, and his "bold +associates," Capability Brown and Co., has obtained so largely--this +_was_ a garden! There might be seen the stately terraces, such as +Watteau, and our own Wilson, in his earlier works, painted--the trim +alleys exhibiting all the triumphs of topiarian art-- + + _The sidelong walls + Of shaven yew; the holly's prickly arms, + Trimm'd into high arcades; the tonsile box, + Wove in mosaic mode of many a curl, + Around the figured carpet of the lawn;_[4] + +the gayest of parterres and greenest of lawns, with its admonitory +sun-dial, its marble basin in the centre, its fountain, and conched +water-god; the quaint summer-house, surmounted with its gilt vane; the +statue, glimmering from out its covert of leaves; the cool cascade, the +urns, the bowers, and a hundred luxuries besides, suggested and +contrived by Art to render Nature most enjoyable, and to enhance the +recreative delights of home-out-of-doors--for such a garden should be--, +with least sacrifice of indoor comfort and convenience. + + _When Epicurus to the world had taught, + That pleasure was the chiefest good; + --And was perhaps i' th' right, if rightly understood, + His life he to his doctrine brought-- + And in his garden's shade that sovereign pleasure sought._[5] + +All these delights might once have been enjoyed. But at the time of +which we write, this fair garden was for the most part a waste. +Ill-kept, and unregarded, the gay parterres were disfigured with weeds; +grass grew on the gravel walk; several of the urns were overthrown; the +hour upon the dial was untold; the fountain was choked up, and the +smooth-shaven lawn only rescued, it would seem, from the general fate, +that it might answer the purpose of a bowling-green, as the implements +of that game, scattered about, plainly testified. + +Diverging from the garden to the house, we have before remarked that the +more ancient and characteristic features of the place had been, for the +most part, destroyed; less by the hand of time than to suit the tastes +of different proprietors. This, however, was not so observable in the +eastern wing, which overlooked the garden. Here might be discerned many +indications of its antiquity. The strength and solidity of the walls, +which had not been, as elsewhere, masked with brickwork; the low, Tudor +arches; the mullioned bars of the windows--all attested its age. This +wing was occupied by an upper and lower gallery, communicating with +suites of chambers, for the most part deserted, excepting one or two, +which were used as dormitories; and another little room on the +ground-floor, with an oriel window opening upon the lawn, and commanding +the prospect beyond--a favorite resort of the late Sir Piers. The +interior was curious for his honeycomb ceiling, deeply moulded in +plaster, with the arms and alliances of the Rookwoods. In the centre was +the royal blazon of Elizabeth, who had once honored the hall with a +visit during a progress, and whose cipher E. R. was also displayed upon +the immense plate of iron which formed the fire-grate. + +To return, for a moment, to the garden, which we linger about as a bee +around a flower. Below the lawn there was another terrace, edged by a +low balustrade of stone, commanding a lovely view of park, water, and +woodland. High hanging-woods waved in the foreground, and an extensive +sweep of flat champaign country stretched out to meet a line of blue, +hazy hills bounding the distant horizon. + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_SIR REGINALD ROOKWOOD_ + + A king who changed his wives as easily as a woman changes her dress. + He threw aside the first, cut off the second's head, the third he + disemboweled: as for the fourth, he pardoned her, and simply turned + her out of doors, but to make matters even, cut off the head of + number five.--VICTOR HUGO: _Marie Tudor_. + + +From the house to its inhabitants the transition is natural. Besides the +connexion between them, there were many points of resemblance; many +family features in common; there was the same melancholy grandeur, the +same character of romance, the same fantastical display. Nor were the +secret passages, peculiar to the one, wanting to the history of the +other. Both had their mysteries. One blot there was in the otherwise +proud escutcheon of the Rookwoods, that dimmed its splendor, and made +pale its pretensions: their sun was eclipsed in blood from its rising to +its meridian; and so it seemed would be its setting. This foul reproach +attached to all the race; none escaped it. Traditional rumors were +handed down from father to son, throughout the county, and, like all +other rumors, had taken to themselves wings, and flown abroad; their +crimes became a by-word. How was it they escaped punishment? How came +they to evade the hand of justice? Proof was ever wanting; justice was +ever baffled. They were a stern and stiff-necked people, of indomitable +pride and resolution, with, for the most part, force of character +sufficient to enable them to breast difficulties and dangers that would +have overwhelmed ordinary individuals. No quality is so advantageous to +its possessor as firmness; and the determined energy of the Rookwoods +bore them harmless through a sea of trouble. Besides, they were +wealthy; lavish even to profusion; and gold will do much, if skilfully +administered. Yet, despite all this, a dark, ominous cloud settled over +their house, and men wondered when the vengeance of Heaven, so long +delayed, would fall and consume it. + +Possessed of considerable landed property, once extending over nearly +half the West Riding of Yorkshire, the family increased in power and +importance for an uninterrupted series of years, until the outbreak of +that intestine discord which ended in the civil wars, when the espousal +of the royalist party, with sword and substance, by Sir Ralph Rookwood, +the then lord of the mansion--a dissolute, depraved personage, who, +however, had been made a Knight of the Bath at the coronation of Charles +I.--, ended in his own destruction at Naseby, and the wreck of much of +his property; a loss which the gratitude of Charles II., on his +restoration, did not fail to make good to Sir Ralph's youthful heir, +Reginald. + +Sir Ralph Rookwood left two sons, Reginald and Alan. The fate of the +latter was buried in obscurity. It was even a mystery to his family. He +was, it was said, a youth of much promise, and of gentle manners; who, +having made an imprudent match, from jealousy, or some other motive, +deserted his wife, and fled his country. Various reasons were assigned +for his conduct. Amongst others, it was stated that the object of Alan's +jealous suspicions was his elder brother, Reginald; and that it was the +discovery of his wife's infidelity in this quarter which occasioned his +sudden disappearance with his infant daughter. Some said he died abroad. +Others, that he had appeared again for a brief space at the hall. But +all now concurred in a belief of his decease. Of his child nothing was +known. His inconstant wife, after enduring for some years the agonies of +remorse, abandoned by Sir Reginald, and neglected by her own relatives, +put an end to her existence by poison. This is all that could be +gathered of the story, or the misfortunes of Alan Rookwood. + +The young Sir Reginald had attended Charles, in the character of page, +during his exile; and if he could not requite the devotion of the son, +by absolutely reinstating the fallen fortunes of the father, the monarch +could at least accord him the fostering influence of his favor and +countenance; and bestow upon him certain lucrative situations in his +household, as an earnest of his good-will. And thus much he did. +Remarkable for his personal attractions in youth, it is not to be +wondered at that we should find the name of Reginald Rookwood recorded +in the scandalous chronicles of the day, as belonging to a cavalier of +infinite address and discretion, matchless wit, and marvellous +pleasantry; and eminent beyond his peers for his successes with some of +the most distinguished beauties who ornamented that brilliant and +voluptuous court. + +A career of elegant dissipation ended in matrimony. His first match was +unpropitious. Foiled in his attempts upon the chastity of a lady of +great beauty and high honor, he was rash enough to marry her; rash, we +say, for from that fatal hour all became as darkness; the curtain fell +upon the comedy of his life, to rise to tragic horrors. When, passion +subsided, repentance awoke, and he became anxious for deliverance from +the fetters he had so heedlessly imposed on himself, and on his +unfortunate dame. + +The hapless lady of Sir Reginald was a fair and fragile creature, +floating on the eddying current of existence, and hurried in destruction +as the summer gossamer is swept away by the rude breeze, and lost +forever. So beautiful, so gentle was she, that if, + + Sorrow had not made + Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self, + +it would have been difficult to say whether the charm of softness and +sweetness was more to be admired than her faultless personal +attractions. But when a tinge of melancholy came, saddening and shading +the once smooth and smiling brow; when tears dimmed the blue beauty of +those deep and tender eyes; when hot, hectic flushes supplied the place +of healthful bloom, and despair took possession of her heart, then was +it seen _what_ was the charm of Lady Rookwood, if charm that could be +called which was a saddening sight to see, and melted the beholder's +soul within him. All acknowledged, that exquisite as she had been +before, the sad, sweet lady was now more exquisite still. + +Seven moons had waned and flown--seven bitter, tearful moons--and each +day Lady Rookwood's situation claimed more soothing attention at the +hand of her lord. About this time his wife's brother, whom he hated, +returned from the Dutch wars. Struck with his sister's altered +appearance, he readily divined the cause; indeed, all tongues were eager +to proclaim it to him. Passionately attached to her, Lionel Vavasour +implored an explanation of the cause of his sister's griefs. The +bewildered lady answered evasively, attributing her woe-begone looks to +any other cause than her husband's cruelty; and pressing her brother, as +he valued her peace, her affection, never to allude to the subject +again. The fiery youth departed. He next sought out his brother-in-law, +and taxed him sharply with his inhumanity, adding threats to his +upbraidings. Sir Reginald listened silently and calmly. When the other +had finished, with a sarcastic obeisance, he replied: "Sir, I am much +beholden for the trouble you have taken in your sister's behalf. But +when she entrusted herself to my keeping, she relinquished, I conceive, +all claim on _your_ guardianship: however, I thank you for the trouble +you have taken; but, for your own sake, I would venture to caution you +against a repetition of interference like the present." + +"And I, sir, caution _you_. See that you give heed to my words, or, by +the heaven above us! I will enforce attention to them." + +"You will find me, sir, as prompt at all times to defend my conduct, as +I am unalterable in my purposes. Your sister is my wife. What more would +you have? Were she a harlot, you should have her back and welcome. The +tool is virtuous. Devise some scheme, and take her with you hence--so +you rid _me_ of her I am content." + +"Rookwood, you are a villain." And Vavasour spat upon his brother's +cheek. + +Sir Reginald's eyes blazed. His sword started from its scabbard. "Defend +yourself!" he exclaimed, furiously attacking Vavasour. Pass after pass +was exchanged. Fierce thrusts were made and parried. Feint and appeal, +the most desperate and dexterous, were resorted to. Their swords glanced +like lightning flashes. In the struggle, the blades became entangled. +There was a moment's cessation. Each glanced at the other with deadly, +inextinguishable hate. Both were admirable masters of the art of +defence. Both were so brimful of wrath as to be regardless of +consequences. They tore back their weapons. Vavasour's blade shivered. +He was at the mercy of his adversary--an adversary who knew no mercy. +Sir Reginald passed his rapier through his brother's body. The hilt +struck against his ribs. + +Sir Reginald's ire was kindled, not extinguished, by the deed he had +done. Like the tiger, he had tasted blood--like the tiger, he thirsted +for more. He sought his home. He was greeted by his wife. Terrified by +his looks, she yet summoned courage sufficient to approach him. She +embraced his arm--she clasped his hand. Sir Reginald smiled. His smile +was cutting as his dagger's edge. + +"What ails you, sweetheart?" said he. + +"I know not; your smile frightens me." + +"My smile frightens you--fool! be thankful that I frown not." + +"Oh! do not frown. Be gentle, my Reginald, as you were when first I knew +you. Smile not so coldly, but as you did then, that I may, for one +instant, dream you love me." + +"Silly wench! There--I _do_ smile." + +"That smile freezes me. Oh, Reginald, could you but know what I have +endured this morning, on your account. My brother Lionel has been here." + +"Indeed!" + +"Nay, look not so. He insisted on knowing the reason of my altered +appearance." + +"And no doubt you made him acquainted with the cause. You told him +_your_ version of the story." + +"Not a word, as I hope to live." + +"A lie!" + +"By my truth, no." + +"A lie, I say. He avouched it to me himself." + +"Impossible! He could not--would not disobey me." + +Sir Reginald laughed bitterly. + +"He would not, I am sure, give utterance to any scandal," continued Lady +Rookwood. "You say this but to try me, do you not?--ha! what is this? +Your hand is bloody. You have not harmed him? Whose blood is this?" + +"Your brother spat upon my check. I have washed out the stain," replied +Sir Reginald, coldly. + +"Then it _is_ his blood!" shrieked Lady Rookwood, pressing her hand +shuddering before her eyes. "Is he dead?" + +Sir Reginald turned away. + +"Stay," she cried, exerting her feeble strength to retain him, and +becoming white as ashes, "abide and hear me. You have killed me, I feel, +by your cruelty. I am sinking fast--dying. I, who loved you, only you; +yes, one besides--my brother, and you have slain _him_. Your hands are +dripping in his blood, and I have kissed them--have clasped them! And +now," continued she, with an energy that shook Sir Reginald, "I hate +you--I renounce you--forever! May my dying words ring in your ears on +your death-bed, for that hour _will_ come. You cannot shun _that_. Then +think of _him_! think of _me_!" + +"Away!" interrupted Sir Reginald, endeavoring to shake her off. + +"I will _not_ away! I will cling to you--will curse you. My unborn child +shall live to curse you--to requite you--to visit my wrongs on you and +yours. Weak as I am, you shall not cast me off. You shall learn to fear +even _me_." + +"I fear nothing living, much less a frantic woman." + +"Fear the _dead_, then." + +There was a struggle--a blow--and the wretched lady sank, shrieking, +upon the floor. Convulsions seized her. A mother's pains succeeded +fierce and fast. She spoke no more, but died within the hour, giving +birth to a female child. + +Eleanor Rookwood became her father's idol--her father's bane. All the +love he had to bestow was centred in her. She returned it not. She fled +from his caresses. With all her mother's beauty, she had all her +father's pride. Sir Reginald's every thought was for his daughter--for +her aggrandizement. In vain. She seemed only to endure him, and while +his affection waxed stronger, and entwined itself round her alone, she +withered beneath his embraces as the shrub withers in the clasping folds +of the parasite plant. + +She grew towards womanhood. Suitors thronged around her--gentle and +noble ones. Sir Reginald watched them with a jealous eye. He was +wealthy, powerful, high in royal favor; and could make his own election. +He did so. For the first time, Eleanor promised obedience to his wishes. +They accorded with her own humor. The day was appointed. It came. But +with it came not the bride. She had fled, with the humblest and the +meanest of the pretenders to her hand--with one upon whom Sir Reginald +supposed she had not deigned to cast her eyes. He endeavored to forget +her, and, to all outward seeming, was successful in the effort. But he +felt that the curse was upon him; the undying flame scorched his heart. + +Once, and once only, they met again, in France, whither she had +wandered. It was a dread encounter--terrible to both; but most so to +Sir Reginald. He spoke not of her afterwards. + +Shortly after the death of his first wife, Sir Reginald had made +proposals to a dowager of distinction, with a handsome jointure, one of +his early attachments, and was, without scruple, accepted. The power of +the family might then be said to be at its zenith; and but for certain +untoward circumstances, and the growing influence of his enemies, Sir +Reginald would have been elevated to the peerage. Like most reformed +spend-thrifts, he had become proportionately avaricious, and his mind +seemed engrossed in accumulating wealth. In the meantime, his second +wife followed her predecessor, dying, it was said, of vexation and +disappointment. + +The propensity to matrimony, always a distinguishing characteristic of +the Rookwoods, largely displayed itself in Sir Reginald. Another dame +followed--equally rich, younger, and far more beautiful than her +immediate predecessor. She was a prodigious flirt, and soon set her +husband at defiance. Sir Reginald did not condescend to expostulate. It +was not his way. He effectually prevented any recurrence of her +indiscretions. She was removed, and with her expired Sir Reginald's +waning popularity. So strong was the expression of odium against him, +that he thought it prudent to retire to his mansion, in the country, and +there altogether seclude himself. One anomaly in Sir Reginald's +otherwise utterly selfish character was uncompromising devotion to the +house of Stuart; and shortly after the abdication of James II., he +followed that monarch to Saint Germain, having previously mixed largely +in secret political intrigues; and only returned from the French court +to lay his bones with those of his ancestry, in the family vault at +Rookwood. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI_ + +_SIR PIERS ROOKWOOD_ + + My old master kept a good house, and twenty or thirty tall + sword-and-buckler men about him; and in faith his son differs not + much; he will have metal too; though he has no store of cutler's + blades, he will have plenty of vintners' pots. His father kept a + good house for honest men, his tenants that brought him in part; and + his son keeps a bad house with knaves that help to consume all: 'tis + but the change of time: why should any man repine at it? Crickets, + good, loving, and lucky worms, were wont to feed, sing, and rejoice + in the father's chimney; and now carrion crows build in the son's + kitchen. + + WILKINS: _Miseries of Enforced Marriage_. + + +Sir Reginald died, leaving issue three children: a daughter, the +before-mentioned Eleanor--who, entirely discountenanced by the family, +had been seemingly forgotten by all but her father--, and two sons by +his third wife. Reginald, the eldest, whose military taste had early +procured him the command of a company of horse, and whose politics did +not coalesce with those of his sire, fell, during his father's lifetime, +at Killiecrankie, under the banners of William. Piers, therefore, the +second son, succeeded to the title. + +A very different character, in many respects, from his father and +brother, holding in supreme dislike courts and courtiers, party warfare, +political intrigue, and all the subtleties of Jesuitical diplomacy, +neither having any inordinate relish for camps or campaigns, Sir Piers +Rookwood yet displayed in early life one family propensity, viz., +unremitting devotion to the sex. Among his other mistresses was the +unfortunate Susan Bradley, in whom by some he was supposed to have been +clandestinely united. In early youth, as has been stated, Sir Piers +professed the faith of Rome, but shortly after the death of his +beautiful mistress--or wife, as it might be--, having quarreled with his +father's confessor, Checkley, he publicly abjured his heresies. Sir +Piers subsequently allied himself to Maud, only daughter of Sir Thomas +D'Aubeny, the last of a line as proud and intolerant as his own. The +tables were then turned. Lady Rookwood usurped sovereign sway over her +lord and Sir Piers, a cipher in his own house, scarce master of himself, +much less of his dame, endured an existence so miserable, that he was +often heard to regret, in his cups, that he had not inherited, with the +estate of his forefathers, the family secret of shaking off the +matrimonial yoke, when found to press too hardly. + +At the onset, Sir Piers struggled hard to burst his bondage. But in +vain--he was fast fettered; and only bruised himself, like the caged +lark, against the bars of his prison-house. Abandoning all further +effort at emancipation, he gave himself up to the usual resource of a +weak mind, debauchery; and drank so deeply to drown his cares, that, in +the end, his hale constitution yielded to his excesses. It was even +said, that remorse at his abandonment of the faith of his fathers had +some share in his misery; and that his old spiritual, and if report +spoke truly, sinful adviser, Father Checkley, had visited him secretly +at the hall. Sir Piers was observed to shudder whenever the priest's +name was mentioned. + +Sir Piers Rookwood was a good-humored man in the main, had little of the +old family leaven about him, and was esteemed by his associates. Of +late, however, his temper became soured, and his friends deserted him; +for, between his domestic annoyances, remorseful feelings, and the +inroads already made upon his constitution by constant inebriety, he +grew so desperate and insane in his revels, and committed such fearful +extravagances, that even his boon companions shrank from his orgies. +Fearful were the scenes between him and Lady Rookwood upon these +occasions--appalling to the witnesses, dreadful to themselves. And it +was, perhaps, their frequent recurrence, that, more than anything else, +banished all decent society from the hall. + +At the time of Sir Piers's decease, which brings us down to the date of +our story, his son and successor, Ranulph, was absent on his travels. +Shortly after the completion of his academical education, he had +departed to make the tour of the Continent, and had been absent rather +better than a year. He had quitted his father in displeasure, and was +destined never again to see his face while living. The last intelligence +received of young Rookwood was from Bordeaux, whence it was thought he +had departed for the Pyrenees. A special messenger had been despatched +in search of him, with tidings of the melancholy event. But, as it was +deemed improbable by Lady Rookwood that her son could return within any +reasonable space, she gave directions for the accomplishment of the +funeral rites of her husband on the sixth night after his decease--it +being the custom of the Rookwoods ever to inter their dead at +midnight,--intrusting their solemnization entirely to the care of one of +Sir Piers's hangers-on--Dr. Titus Tyrconnel,--for which she was greatly +scandalized in the neighborhood. + +Ranulph Rookwood was a youth of goodly promise. The stock from which he +sprang would on neither side warrant such conclusion. But it sometimes +happens that from the darkest elements are compounded the brightest and +subtlest substances; and so it occurred in this instance. Fair, frank, +and free--generous, open, unsuspicious--he seemed the very opposite of +all his race--their antagonizing principle. Capriciously indulgent, his +father had allowed him ample means, neither curbing nor restraining his +expenditure; acceding at one moment to every inclination, and the next +irresolutely opposing it. It was impossible, therefore, for him, in such +a state of things, to act decidedly, without incurring his father's +displeasure; and the only measure he resolved upon, which was to absent +himself for a time, was conjectured to have brought about the result he +had endeavored to avoid. Other reasons, however, there were, which +secretly influenced him, which it will be our business in due time to +detail. + + + + +_CHAPTER VII_ + +_THE RETURN_ + + _Flam._ How croaks the raven? + Is our good Duchess dead? + + _Lod._ Dead. + + WEBSTER. + + +The time of the sad ceremonial drew nigh. The hurrying of the domestics +to and fro; the multifarious arrangements for the night; the +distribution of the melancholy trappings, and the discussion of the +"funeral-baked meats," furnished abundant occupation within doors. +Without, there was a constant stream of the tenantry, thronging down the +avenue, mixed with an occasional horseman, once or twice intercepted by +a large lumbering carriage, bringing friends of the deceased, some +really anxious to pay the last tribute of regard, but the majority +attracted by the anticipated spectacle of a funeral by torchlight. There +were others, indeed, to whom it was not matter of choice; who were +compelled, by a vassal tenure of their lands, held of the house of +Rookwood, to lend a shoulder to the coffin, and a hand to the torch, on +the burial of its lord. Of these there was a plentiful muster collected +in the hall; they were to be marshalled by Peter Bradley, who was deemed +to be well skilled in the proceedings, having been present at two +solemnities of the kind. That mysterious personage, however, had not +made his appearance--to the great dismay of the assemblage. Scouts were +sent in search of him, but they returned with the intelligence that the +door of his habitation was fastened, and its inmate apparently absent. +No other tidings of the truant sexton could be obtained. + +It was a sultry August evening. No breeze was stirring in the garden; no +cool dews refreshed the parched and heated earth; yet from the +languishing flowers rich sweets exhaled. The plash of a fountain fell +pleasantly upon the ear, conveying in its sound a sense of freshness to +the fervid air; while deep and drowsy murmurs hummed heavily beneath the +trees, making the twilight slumberously musical. The westering sun, +which filled the atmosphere with flame throughout the day, was now +wildly setting; and, as he sank behind the hall, its varied and +picturesque tracery became each instant more darkly and distinctly +defined against the crimson sky. + +At this juncture a little gate, communicating with the chase, was thrown +open, and a young man entered the garden, passing through the shrubbery, +and hurrying rapidly forward till he arrived at a vista opening upon the +house. The spot at which the stranger halted was marked by a little +basin, scantily supplied with water, streaming from a lion's kingly +jaws. His dress was travel-soiled, and dusty; and his whole appearance +betokened great exhaustion from heat and fatigue. Seating himself upon +an adjoining bench, he threw off his riding-cap, and unclasped his +collar, displaying a finely-turned head and neck; and a countenance +which, besides its beauty, had that rare nobility of feature which +seldom falls to the lot of the aristocrat, but is never seen in one of +an inferior order. A restless disquietude of manner showed that he was +suffering from over-excitement of mind, as well as from bodily exertion. +His look was wild and hurried; his black ringlets were dashed heedlessly +over a pallid, lofty brow, upon which care was prematurely written; +while his large melancholy eyes were bent, with a look almost of agony, +upon the house before him. + +After a short pause, and as if struggling against violent emotions, and +some overwhelming remembrance, the youth arose, and plunged his hand +into the basin, applying the moist element to his burning brow. +Apparently becoming more calm, he bent his steps towards the hall, when +two figures, suddenly issuing from an adjoining copse, arrested his +progress; neither saw him. Muttering a hurried farewell, one of the +figures disappeared within the shrubbery, and the other, confronting the +stranger, displayed the harsh features and gaunt form of Peter Bradley. +Had Peter encountered the dead Sir Piers in corporeal form, he could not +have manifested more surprise than he exhibited, for an instant or two, +as he shrunk back from the stranger's path. + + + + +_CHAPTER VIII_ + +_AN IRISH ADVENTURER_ + + _Scapin._ A most outrageous, roaring fellow, with a swelled red face + inflamed with brandy.--_Cheats of Scapin._ + + +An hour or two prior to the incident just narrated, in a small, cosy +apartment of the hall, nominally devoted to justiciary business by its +late owner, but, in reality, used as a sanctum, snuggery, or +smoking-room, a singular trio were assembled, fraught with the ulterior +purpose of attending the obsequies of their deceased patron and friend, +though immediately occupied in the discussion of a magnum of excellent +claret, the bouquet of which perfumed the air, like the fragrance of a +bed of violets. + +This little room had been poor Sir Piers's favorite retreat. It was, in +fact, the only room in the house that he could call his own; and thither +would he often, with pipe and punch, beguile the flagging hours, secure +from interruption. A snug, old-fashioned apartment it was; wainscoted +with rich black oak; with a fine old cabinet of the same material, and a +line or two of crazy, worm-eaten bookshelves, laden with sundry dusty, +unconsulted law tomes, and a light sprinkling of the elder divines, +equally neglected. The only book, indeed, Sir Piers ever read, was the +"Anatomie of Melancholy;" and he merely studied Burton because the +quaint, racy style of the learned old hypochondriac suited his humor at +seasons, and gave a zest to his sorrows, such as the olives lent to his +wine. + +Four portraits adorned the walls: those of Sir Reginald Rookwood and his +wives. The ladies were attired in the flowing drapery of Charles the +Second's day, the snow of their radiant bosoms being somewhat sullied by +over-exposure, and the vermeil tinting of their cheeks darkened by the +fumes of tobacco. There was a shepherdess, with her taper crook, whose +large, languishing eyes, ripe pouting lips, ready to melt into kisses, +and air of voluptuous abandonment, scarcely suited the innocent +simplicity of her costume. She was portrayed tending a flock of downy +sheep, with azure ribbons round their necks, accompanied by one of those +invaluable little dogs whose length of ear and silkiness of skin evinced +him perfect in his breeding, but whose large-eyed indifference to his +charge proved him to be as much out of character with his situation as +the refined and luxuriant charms of his mistress were out of keeping +with her artless attire. This was Sir Piers's mother, the third wife, a +beautiful woman, answering to the notion of one who had been somewhat of +a flirt in her day. Next to her was a magnificent dame, with the throat +and arm of a Juno, and a superb bust--the bust was then what the bustle +is now--a paramount attraction; whether the modification be an +improvement, we leave to the consideration of the lovers of the +beautiful--this was the dowager. Lastly, there was the lovely and +ill-fated Eleanor. Every gentle grace belonging to this unfortunate lady +had been stamped in undying beauty on the canvas by the hand of Lely, +breathing a spell on the picture, almost as powerful as that which had +dwelt around the exquisite original. Over the high carved mantelpiece +was suspended the portrait of Sir Reginald. It had been painted in +early youth; the features were beautiful, disdainful,--with a fierceness +breaking through the courtly air. The eyes were very fine, black as +midnight, and piercing as those of Csar Borgia, as seen in Raphael's +wonderful picture in the Borghese Palace at Rome. They seemed to +fascinate the gazer--to rivet his glances--to follow him whithersoever +he went--and to search into his soul, as did the dark orbs of Sir +Reginald in his lifetime. It was the work likewise of Lely, and had all +the fidelity and graceful refinement of that great master; nor was the +haughty countenance of Sir Reginald unworthy the patrician painter. + +No portrait of Sir Piers was to be met with. But in lieu thereof, +depending from a pair of buck's horns, hung the worthy knight's stained +scarlet coat--the same in which he had ridden forth, with the intent to +hunt, on the eventful occasion detailed by Peter Bradley,--his velvet +cap, his buck-handled whip, and the residue of his equipment for the +chase. This attire was reviewed with melancholy interest and unaffected +emotion by the company, as reminding them forcibly of the departed, of +which it seemed a portion. + +The party consisted of the vicar of Rookwood, Dr. Polycarp Small; Dr. +Titus Tyrconnel, an emigrant, and empirical professor of medicine, from +the sister isle, whose convivial habits had first introduced him to the +hall, and afterwards retained him there; and Mr. Codicil Coates, clerk +of the peace, attorney-at-law, bailiff, and receiver. We were wrong in +saying that Tyrconnel was retained. He was an impudent, intrusive +fellow, whom, having once gained a footing in the house, it was +impossible to dislodge. He cared for no insult; perceived no slight; and +professed, in her presence, the profoundest respect for Lady Rookwood: +in short, he was ever ready to do anything but depart. + +Sir Piers was one of those people who cannot dine alone. He disliked a +solitary repast almost as much as a _tte--tte_ with his lady. He +would have been recognized at once as the true Amphitryon, had any one +been hardy enough to play the part of Jupiter. Ever ready to give a +dinner, he found a difficulty arise, not usually experienced on such +occasions--there was no one upon whom to bestow it. He had the best of +wine; kept an excellent table; was himself no niggard host; but his own +merits, and those of his _cuisine_, were forgotten in the invariable +_pendant_ to the feast; and the best of wine lost its flavor when the +last bottle found its way to the guest's head. Dine alone Sir Piers +would not. And as his old friends forsook him, he plunged lower in his +search of society; collecting within his house a class of persons whom +no one would have expected to meet at the hall, nor even its owner have +chosen for his companions, had any choice remained to him. He did not +endure this state of things without much outward show of discontent. +"Anything for a quiet life," was his constant saying; and, like the +generality of people with whom those words form a favorite maxim, he led +the most uneasy life imaginable. Endurance, to excite commiseration, +must be uncomplaining--an axiom the aggrieved of the gentle sex should +remember. Sir Piers endured, but he grumbled lustily, and was on all +hands voted a bore; domestic grievances, especially if the husband be +the plaintiff, being the most intolerable of all mentionable miseries. +No wonder that his friends deserted him; still there was Titus +Tyrconnel; his ears and lips were ever open to pathos and to punch; so +Titus kept his station. Immediately after her husband's demise, it had +been Lady Rookwood's intention to clear the house of all the "vermin," +so she expressed herself, that had so long infested it; and forcibly to +eject Titus, and one or two other intruders of the same class. But in +consequence of certain hints received from Mr. Coates, who represented +the absolute necessity of complying with Sir Piers's testamentary +instructions, which were particular in that respect, she thought proper +to defer her intentions until after the ceremonial of interment should +be completed, and, in the mean time, strange to say, committed its +arrangement to Titus Tyrconnel; who, ever ready to accommodate, +accepted, nothing loth, the charge, and acquitted himself admirably well +in his undertaking: especially, as he said, "in the aiting and drinking +department--the most essential part of it all." He kept open house--open +dining-room--open cellar; resolved that his patron's funeral should +emulate as much as possible an Irish burial on a grand scale, "the +finest sight," in his opinion, "in the whole world." + +Inflated with the importance of his office, inflamed with heat, sat +Titus, like a "robustious periwig-pated" alderman after a civic feast. +The natural rubicundity of his countenance was darkened to a deep purple +tint, like that of a full-blown peony, while his ludicrous dignity was +augmented by a shining suit of sables, in which his portly person was +invested. + +The first magnum had been discussed in solemn silence; the cloud, +however, which hung over the conclave, disappeared under the genial +influence of "another and a better" bottle, and gave place to a denser +vapor, occasioned by the introduction of the pipe and its +accompaniments. + +Ensconced in a comfortable old chair--it is not every old chair that +_is_ comfortable,--with pipe in mouth, and in full unbuttoned ease, his +bushy cauliflower wig laid aside, by reason of the heat, reposed Dr. +Small. Small, indeed, was somewhat of a misnomer, as applied to the +worthy doctor, who, besides being no diminutive specimen of his kind, +entertained no insignificant opinion of himself. His height was +certainly not remarkable; but his width of shoulder--his sesquipedality +of stomach--and obesity of calf--these were unique! Of his origin we +know nothing; but presume he must, in some way or other, have been +connected with the numerous family of "the Smalls," who, according to +Christopher North, form the predominant portion of mankind. In +appearance, the doctor was short-necked and puffy, with a sodden, pasty +face, wherein were set eyes whose obliquity of vision was, in some +measure, redeemed by their expression of humor. He was accounted a man +of parts and erudition, and had obtained high honors at his university. +Rigidly orthodox, he abominated the very names of Papists and Jacobites, +amongst which heretical herd he classed his companion, Mr. Titus +Tyrconnel--Ireland being with him synonymous with superstition and +Catholicism--and every Irishman rebellious and schismatical. On this +head he was inclined to be disputatious. His prejudices did not prevent +him from passing the claret, nor from laughing, as heartily as a +plethoric asthma and sense of the decorum due to the occasion would +permit, at the quips and quirks of the Irishman, who, he admitted, +notwithstanding his heresies, was a pleasant fellow in the main. And +when, in addition to the flattery, a pipe had been insinuated by the +officious Titus, at the precise moment that Small yearned for his +afternoon's solace, yet scrupled to ask for it; when the door had been +made fast, and the first whiff exhaled, all his misgivings vanished, and +he surrendered himself to the soft seduction. In this Elysian state we +find him. + +"Ah! you may say that, Dr. Small," said Titus, in answer to some +observation of the vicar, "that's a most original apothegm. We all of us +hould our lives by a thrid. Och! many's the sudden finale I have seen. +Many's the fine fellow's heels tripped up unawares, when least expected. +Death hangs over our heads by a single hair, as your reverence says, +precisely like the sword of Dan Maclise,[6] the flatterer of Dinnish +what-do-you-call-him, ready to fall at a moment's notice, or no notice +at all--eh?--Mr. Coates. And that brings me back again to Sir +Piers--poor gentleman--ah! we sha'n't soon see the like of him again!" + +"Poor Sir Piers!" said Mr. Coates, a small man, in a scratch wig, with a +face red and round as an apple, and almost as diminutive. "It is to be +regretted that his over-conviviality should so much have hastened his +lamented demise." + +"Conviviality!" replied Titus; "no such thing--it was +apoplexy--extravasation of _sarum_." + +"Extra vase-ation of rum and water, you mean," replied Coates, who, like +all his tribe, rejoiced in a quibble. + +"The squire's ailment," continued Titus, "was a sanguineous effusion, as +we call it--positive determination of blood to the head, occasioned by a +low way he got into, just before his attack--a confirmed case of +hypochondriasis, as that _ould_ book Sir Piers was so fond of terms the +blue devils. He neglected the bottle, which, in a man who has been a +hard drinker all his life, is a bad sign. The lowering system never +answers--never. Doctor, I'll just trouble you"--for Small, in a fit of +absence, had omitted to pass the bottle, though not to help himself. +"Had he stuck to _this_"--holding up a glass, ruby bright--"the elixir +vit--the grand panacea--he might have been hale and hearty at this +present moment, and as well as any of us. But he wouldn't be advised. To +my thinking, as that was the case, he'd have been all the better for a +little of your reverence's sperretual advice; and his conscience having +been relieved by confession and absolution, he might have opened a fresh +account with an aisy heart and clane breast." + +"I trust, sir," said Small, gravely withdrawing his pipe from his lips, +"that Sir Piers Rookwood addressed himself to a higher source than a +sinning creature of clay like himself for remission of his sins; but, if +there was any load of secret guilt that might have weighed heavy upon +his conscience, it is to be regretted that he refused the last offices +of the church, and died incommunicate. I was denied all admittance to +his chamber." + +"Exactly my case," said Mr. Coates, pettishly. "I was refused entrance, +though my business was of the utmost importance--certain +dispositions--special bequests--matter connected with his sister--for +though the estate is entailed, yet still there are charges--you +understand me--very strange to refuse to see _me_. Some people may +regret it--may live to regret it, I say--that's all. I've just sent up +a package to Lady Rookwood, which was not to be delivered till after Sir +Piers's death. Odd circumstance that--been in my custody a long +while--some reason to think Sir Piers meant to alter his will--ought to +have seen _me_--sad neglect!" + +"More's the pity. But it was none of poor Sir Piers's doing!" replied +Titus; "he had no will of his own, poor fellow, during his life, and the +devil a will was he likely to have after his death. It was all Lady +Rookwood's doing," added he, in a whisper. "I, his medical adviser and +confidential friend, was ordered out of the room; and, although I knew +it was as much as his life was worth to leave him for a moment in that +state, I was forced to comply: and, would you believe it, as I left the +room, I heard high words. Yes, doctor, as I hope to be saved, words of +anger from her at that awful juncture." + +The latter part of this speech was uttered in a low tone, and very +mysterious manner. The speakers drew so closely together, that the bowls +of their pipes formed a common centre, whence the stems radiated. A +momentary silence ensued, during which each man puffed for very life. +Small next knocked the ashes from his tube, and began to replenish it, +coughing significantly. Mr. Coates expelled a thin, curling stream of +vapor from a minute orifice in the corner of his almost invisible mouth, +and arched his eyebrows in a singular manner, as if he dared not trust +the expression of his thoughts to any other feature. Titus shook his +huge head, and, upon the strength of a bumper which he swallowed, +mustered resolution enough to unburden his bosom. + +"By my sowl," said he, mysteriously, "I've seen enough lately to +frighten any quiet gentleman out of his senses. I'll not get a wink of +sleep, I fear, for a week to come. There must have been something +dreadful upon Sir Piers's mind; sure--nay, there's no use in mincing the +matter with _you_--in a word, then, some crime too deep to be divulged." + +"Crime!" echoed Coates and Small, in a breath. + +"Ay, crime!" repeated Titus. "Whist! not so loud, lest any one should +overhear us. Poor Sir Piers, he's dead now. I'm sure you both loved him +as I did, and pity and pardon him if he was guilty; for certain am I +that no soul ever took its flight more heavily laden than did that of +our poor friend. Och! it was a terrible ending. But you shall hear _how_ +he died, and judge for yourselves. When I returned to his room after +Lady Rookwood's departure, I found him quite delirious. I knew death was +not far off then. One minute he was in the chase, cheering on the +hounds. 'Halloo! tallyho!' cried he: 'who clears that fence?--who swims +that stream?' The next, he was drinking, carousing, and hurrahing, at +the head of his table. 'Hip! hip! hip!'--as mad, and wild, and frantic +as ever he used to be when wine had got the better of him; and then all +of a sudden, in the midst of his shouting, he stopped, exclaiming, +'What! here again?--who let her in?--the door is fast--I locked it +myself. Devil! why did you open it?--you have betrayed me--she will +poison me--and I cannot resist. Ha! another! Who--who is that?--her face +is white--her hair hangs about her shoulders. Is she alive again? Susan! +Susan! why that look? You loved me well--too well. You will not drag me +to perdition! You will not appear against me! No, no, no--it is not in +your nature--you whom I doted on, whom I loved--whom I--but I +repented--I sorrowed--I prayed--prayed! Oh! oh! no prayers would avail. +Pray for me, Susan--for ever! _Your_ intercession may avail. It is not +too late. I will do justice to all. Bring me pen and ink--paper--I will +confess--_he_ shall have all. Where is my sister? I would speak with +her--would tell her--tell her. Call Alan Rookwood--I shall die before I +can tell it. Come hither,' said he to me. 'There is a dark, dreadful +secret on my mind--it must forth. Tell my sister--no, my senses +swim--Susan is near me--fury in her eyes--avenging fury--keep her off. +What is this white mass in my arms? what do I hold? is it the corpse by +my side, as it lay that long, long night? It is--it is. Cold, stiff, +stirless as then. White--horribly white--as when the moon, that would +not set, showed all its ghastliness. Ah! it moves, embraces me, stifles, +suffocates me. Help! remove the pillow. I cannot breathe--I choke--oh!' +And now I am coming to the strangest part of my story--and, strange as +it may sound, every word is as true as Gospel." + +"Ahem!" coughed Small. + +"Well, at this moment--this terrible moment--what should I hear but a +tap against the wainscot. Holy Virgin! how it startled me. My heart +leapt to my mouth in an instant, and then went thump, thump, against my +ribs. But I said nothing, though you may be sure I kept my ears wide +open--and then presently I heard the tap repeated somewhat louder, and +shortly afterwards a third--I should still have said nothing, but Sir +Piers heard the knock, and raised himself at the summons, as if it had +been the last trumpet. 'Come in,' cried he, in a dying voice; and Heaven +forgive me if I confess that I expected a certain person, whose company +one would rather dispense with upon such an occasion, to step in. +However, though it wasn't the ould gentleman, it was somebody near akin +to him; for a door I had never seen, and never even dreamed of, opened +in the wall, and in stepped Peter Bradley--ay, you may well stare, +gentlemen; but it was Peter, looking as stiff as a crowbar, and as blue +as a mattock. Well, he walked straight up to the bed of the dying man, +and bent his great, diabolical gray eyes upon him, laughing all the +while--yes, laughing--you know the cursed grin he has. To proceed. 'You +have called me,' said he to Sir Piers; 'I am here. What would you with +me?'--'We are not alone,' groaned the dying man. 'Leave us, Mr. +Tyrconnel--leave me for five minutes--only five, mark me.'--'I'll go,' +thinks I, 'but I shall never see you again alive.' And true enough it +was--I never did see him again with breath in his body. Without more +ado, I left him, and I had scarcely reached the corridor when I heard +the door bolted behind me. I then stopped to listen: and I'm sure you'll +not blame me when I say I clapped my eye to the keyhole; for I suspected +something wrong. But, Heaven save us! that crafty gravedigger had taken +his precautions too well. I could neither see nor hear anything, except +after a few minutes, a wild unearthly screech. And then the door was +thrown open, and I, not expecting it, was precipitated head foremost +into the room, to the great damage of my nose. When I got up, Peter had +vanished, I suppose, as he came; and there was poor Sir Piers leaning +back upon the pillow with his hands stretched out as if in supplication, +his eyes unclosed and staring, and his limbs stark and stiff!" + +A profound silence succeeded this narrative. Mr. Coates would not +venture upon a remark. Dr. Small seemed, for some minutes, lost in +painful reflection; at length he spoke: "You have described a shocking +scene, Mr. Tyrconnel, and in a manner that convinces me of its fidelity. +But I trust you will excuse me, as a friend of the late Sir Piers, in +requesting you to maintain silence in future on the subject. Its +repetition can be productive of no good, and may do infinite harm by +giving currency to unpleasant reports, and harrowing the feelings of the +survivors. Every one acquainted with Sir Piers's history must be aware, +as I dare say you are already, of an occurrence which cast a shade over +his early life, blighted his character, and endangered his personal +safety. It was a dreadful accusation. But I believe, nay, I am sure, it +was unfounded. Dark suspicions attach to a Romish priest of the name of +Checkley. He, I believe, is beyond the reach of human justice. Erring +Sir Piers was, undoubtedly. But I trust he was more weak than sinful. I +have reason to think he was the tool of others, especially of the wretch +I have named. And it is easy to perceive how that incomprehensible +lunatic, Peter Bradley, has obtained an ascendancy over him. His +daughter, you are aware, was Sir Piers's mistress. Our friend is now +gone, and with him let us bury his offences, and the remembrance of +them. That his soul was heavily laden, would appear from your account of +his last moments; yet I fervently trust that his repentance was sincere, +in which case there is hope of forgiveness for him. 'At what time soever +a sinner shall repent him of his sins, from the bottom of his heart, I +will blot out all his wickedness out of my remembrance, saith the Lord.' +Heaven's mercy is greater than man's sins. And there is hope of +salvation even for Sir Piers." + +"I trust so, indeed," said Titus, with emotion; "and as to repeating a +syllable of what I have just said, devil a word more will I utter on the +subject. My lips shall be shut and sealed, as close as one of Mr. +Coates's bonds, for ever and a day: but I thought it just right to make +you acquainted with the circumstances. And now, having dismissed the bad +for ever, I am ready to speak of Sir Piers's good qualities, and not few +they were. What was there becoming a gentleman that he couldn't do, I'd +like to know? Couldn't he hunt as well as ever a one in the county? and +hadn't he as good a pack of hounds? Couldn't he shoot as well, and fish +as well, and drink as well, or better?--only he couldn't carry his wine, +which was his misfortune, not his fault. And wasn't he always ready to +ask a friend to dinner with him? and didn't he give him a good dinner +when he came, barring the cross-cups afterwards? And hadn't he +everything agreeable about him, except his wife? which was a great +drawback. And with all his peculiarities and humors, wasn't he as +kind-hearted a man as needs be? and an Irishman at the core? And so, if +he wern't dead, I'd say long life to him! But as he is, here's peace to +his memory!" + +At this juncture, a knocking was heard at the door, which some one +without had vainly tried to open. Titus rose to unclose it, ushering in +an individual known at the hall as Jack Palmer. + + + + +_CHAPTER IX_ + +_AN ENGLISH ADVENTURER_ + + _Mrs. Peachem._ Sure the captain's the finest gentleman on the road. + + _Beggar's Opera._ + + +Jack Palmer was a good-humored, good-looking man, with immense bushy, +red whiskers, a freckled, florid complexion, and sandy hair, rather +inclined to scantiness towards the scalp of the head, which garnished +the nape of his neck with a ruff of crisp little curls, like the ring on +a monk's shaven crown. Notwithstanding this tendency to baldness, Jack +could not be more than thirty, though his looks were some five years in +advance. His face was one of those inexplicable countenances, which +appear to be proper to a peculiar class of men--a regular Newmarket +physiognomy--compounded chiefly of cunning and assurance; not low +cunning, nor vulgar assurance, but crafty sporting subtlety, careless as +to results, indifferent to obstacles, ever on the alert for the main +chance, game and turf all over, eager, yet easy, keen, yet quiet. He was +somewhat showily dressed, in such wise that he looked half like a fine +gentleman of that day, half like a jockey of our own. His nether man +appeared in well-fitting, well-worn buckskins, and boots with tops, not +unconscious of the saddle; while the airy extravagance of his +broad-skirted, sky-blue riding coat, the richness of his vest--the +pockets of which were beautifully exuberant, according to the mode of +1737--the smart luxuriance of his cravat, and a certain curious taste in +the size and style of his buttons, proclaimed that, in his own esteem at +least, his person did not appear altogether unworthy of decoration; nor, +in justice to Jack, can we allow that he was in error. He was a model +of a man for five feet ten; square, compact, capitally built in every +particular, excepting that his legs were slightly imbowed, which defect +probably arose from his being almost constantly on horseback; a sort of +exercise in which Jack greatly delighted, and was accounted a superb +rider. It was, indeed, his daring horsemanship, upon one particular +occasion, when he had outstripped a whole field, that had procured him +the honor of an invitation to Rookwood. Who he was, or whence he came, +was a question not easily answered--Jack, himself, evading all solution +to the inquiry. Sir Piers never troubled his head about the matter: he +was a "deuced good fellow--rode well, and stood on no sort of ceremony;" +that was enough for him. Nobody else knew anything about him, save that +he was a capital judge of horseflesh, kept a famous black mare, and +attended every hunt in the West Riding--that he could sing a good song, +was a choice companion, and could drink three bottles without feeling +the worse for them. + +Sensible of the indecorum that might attach to his appearance, Dr. Small +had hastily laid down his pipe, and arranged his wig. But when he saw +who was the intruder, with a grunt of defiance he resumed his +occupation, without returning the bow of the latter, or bestowing +further notice upon him. Nothing discomposed at the churchman's +displeasure, Jack greeted Titus cordially, and carelessly saluting Mr. +Coates, threw himself into a chair. He next filled a tumbler of claret, +and drained it at a draught. + +"Have you ridden far, Jack?" asked Titus, noticing the dusty state of +Palmer's azure attire. + +"Some dozen miles," replied Palmer; "and that, on such a sultry +afternoon as the present, makes one feel thirstyish. I'm as dry as a +sandbed. Famous wine this--beautiful tipple--better than all your red +fustian. Ah, how poor Sir Piers used to like it! Well, that's all +over--a glass like this might do him good in his present quarters! I'm +afraid I'm intruding. But the fact is, I wanted a little information +about the order of the procession, and missing you below, came hither in +search of you. You're to be chief mourner, I suppose, Titus--_rehearsing_ +your part, eh?" + +"Come, come, Jack, no joking," replied Titus; "the subject's too +serious. I am to be chief mourner--and I expect you to be a mourner--and +everybody else to be mourners. We must all mourn at the proper time. +There'll be a power of people at the church." + +"There _are_ a power of people here already," returned Jack, "if they +all attend." + +"And they all _will_ attend, or what is the eating and drinking to go +for? I sha'n't leave a soul in the house." + +"Excepting one," said Jack, archly. "Lady Rookwood won't attend, I +think." + +"Ay, excepting her ladyship and her ladyship's abigail. All the rest go +with me, and form part of the procession. You go too." + +"Of course. At what time do you start?" + +"Twelve precisely. As the clock strikes, we set out--all in a line, and +a long line we'll make. I'm waiting for that ould coffin-faced rascal, +Peter Bradley, to arrange the order." + +"How long will it all occupy, think you?" asked Jack, carelessly. + +"That I can't say," returned Titus; "possibly an hour, more or less. But +we shall start to the minute--that is, if we can get all together, so +don't be out of the way. And hark ye, Jack, you must contrive to change +your toggery. That sky-blue coat won't do. It's not the thing at all, at +all." + +"Never fear that," replied Palmer. "But who were those in the +carriages?" + +"Is it the last carriage you mean? Squire Forester and his sons. They're +dining with the other gentlefolk, in the great room up-stairs, to be out +of the way. Oh, we'll have a grand _berrin'_. And, by St. Patrick! I +must be looking after it." + +"Stay a minute," said Jack; "let's have a cool bottle first. They are +all taking care of themselves below, and Peter Bradley has not made his +appearance, so you need be in no hurry. I'll go with you presently. +Shall I ring for the claret?" + +"By all means," replied Titus. + +Jack accordingly arose; and a butler answering the summons, a +long-necked bottle was soon placed before them. + +"You heard of the affray last night, I presume?" said Jack, renewing the +conversation. + +"With the poachers? To be sure I did. Wasn't I called in to examine Hugh +Badger's wounds the first thing this morning; and a deep cut there was, +just over the eye, besides other bruises." + +"Is the wound dangerous?" inquired Palmer. + +"Not exactly mortal, if you mean that," replied the Irishman; +"dangerous, certainly." + +"Humph!" exclaimed Jack; "they'd a pretty hardish bout of it, I +understand. Anything been heard of the body?" + +"What body?" inquired Small, who was half-dozing. + +"The body of the drowned poacher," replied Jack; "they were off to +search for it this morning." + +"Found it--not they!" exclaimed Titus. "Ha, ha!--I can't help laughing, +for the life and _sowl_ of me; a capital trick he played +'em,--capital--ha, ha! What do you think the fellow did? Ha, ha!--after +leading 'em the devil's dance, all around the park, killing a hound as +savage as a wolf, and breaking Hugh Badger's head, which is as hard and +thick as a butcher's block, what does the fellow do but dive into a +pool, with a great rock hanging over it, and make his way to the other +side, through a subterranean cavern, which nobody knew anything about, +till they came to drag it, thinking him snugly drowned all the +while--ha, ha!" + +"Ha, ha, ha!" chorused Jack; "bravo! he's a lad of the right sort--ha, +ha!" + +"He! who?" inquired the attorney. + +"Why, the poacher, to be sure," replied Jack; "who else were we talking +about?" + +"Beg pardon," returned Coates; "I thought you might have heard some +intelligence. We've got an eye upon him. We know who it was." + +"Indeed!" exclaimed Jack; "and who was it?" + +"A fellow known by the name of Luke Bradley." + +"Zounds!" cried Titus, "you don't say it was he? Murder in Irish! that +bates everything; why, he was Sir Piers's----" + +"Natural son," replied the attorney; "he has not been heard of for some +time--shockingly incorrigible rascal--impossible to do anything with +him." + +"You don't say so?" observed Jack. "I've heard Sir Piers speak of the +lad; and, by his account, he's as fine a fellow as ever crossed tit's +back; only a little wildish and unreasonable, as the best of us may be; +wants breaking, that's all. Your skittish colt makes the best horse, and +so would he. To speak the truth, I'm glad he escaped." + +"So am I," rejoined Titus; "for, in the first place, I've a foolish +partiality for poachers, and am sorry when any of 'em come to hurt; and, +in the second, I'd be mighty displeased if any ill had happened to one +of Sir Piers's flesh and blood, as this young chap appears to be." + +"Appears to be!" repeated Palmer; "there's no _appearing_ in the case, I +take it. This Bradley's an undoubted offshoot of the old squire. His +mother was a servant-maid at the hall, I rather think. You sir," +continued he, addressing Coates, "perhaps, can inform us of the real +facts of the case." + +"She was something better than a servant," replied the attorney, with a +slight cough and a knowing wink. "I remember her quite well, though I +was but a boy then; a lovely creature, and so taking, I don't wonder +that Sir Piers was smitten with her. He was mad after the women in those +days, and pretty Sue Bradley above all others. She lived with him quite +like his lady." + +"So I've heard," returned Jack; "and she remained with him till her +death. Let me see, wasn't there something rather odd in the way in which +she died, rather suddenish and unexpected,--a noise made about it at the +time, eh?" + +"Not that I ever heard," replied Coates, shaking his head, and appearing +to be afflicted with an instantaneous ignorance; while Titus affected +not to hear the remark, but occupied himself with his wine-glass. Small +snored audibly. "I was too young, then, to pay any attention to idle +rumors," continued Coates. "It's a long time ago. May I ask the reason +of your inquiry?" + +"Nothing further than simple curiosity," replied Jack, enjoying the +consternation of his companions. "It is, as you say, a long while since. +But it's singular how that sort of thing is remembered. One would think +people had something else to do than talk of one's private affairs for +ever. For my part, I despise such tattle. But there _are_ persons in the +neighborhood who still say it was an awkward business. Amongst others, +I've heard that this very Luke Bradley talks in pretty plain terms about +it." + +"Does he, indeed?" said Coates. "So much the worse for him. Let me once +lay hands upon him, and I'll put a gag in his mouth that shall spoil his +talking in the future." + +"That's precisely the point I desire to arrive at," replied Jack; "and I +advise you by all means to accomplish that, for the sake of the family. +Nobody likes his friends to be talked about. So I'd settle the matter +amicably, were I you. Just let the fellow go his way; he won't return +here again in a hurry, I'll be bound. As to clapping him in quod, he +might prattle--turn stag." + +"Turn stag!" replied Coates, "what the deuce is that? In my opinion, he +has 'turned stag' already. At all events, he'll pay _deer_ for his +night's sport, you may depend upon it. What signifies it what _he_ says? +Let me lay hands upon him, that's all." + +"Well, well," said Jack, "no offence. I only meant to offer a +suggestion. I thought the family, young Sir Ranulph, I mean, mightn't +like the story to be revived. As to Lady Rookwood, she don't, I suppose, +care much about idle reports. Indeed, if I've been rightly informed, she +bears this youngster no particular good-will to begin with, and has +tried hard to get him out of the country. But, as you say, what _does_ +it signify what he says? he can _only_ talk. Sir Piers is dead and +gone." + +"Humph!" muttered Coates, peevishly. + +"But it does seem a little hard, that a lad should swing for killing a +bit of venison in his own father's park." + +"Which he'd a _nat'ral_ right to do," cried Titus. + +"He had no natural right to bruise, violently assault, and endanger the +life of his father's, or anybody else's gamekeeper," retorted Coates. "I +tell you, sir, he's committed a capital offence, and if he's taken----" + +"No chance of that, I hope," interrupted Jack. + +"That's a wish I can't help wishing myself," said Titus: "on my +conscience, these poachers are fine boys, when all's said and done." + +"The finest of all boys," exclaimed Jack, with a kindred enthusiasm, +"are those birds of the night, and minions of the moon, whom we call, +most unjustly, poachers. They are, after all, only _professional +sportsmen_, making a business of what we make a pleasure; a nightly +pursuit of what is to us a daily relaxation; there's the main +distinction. As to the rest, it's all in idea; they merely thin an +overstocked park, as _you_ would reduce a plethoric patient, doctor; or +as _you_ would work a moneyed client, if you got him into Chancery, +Mister Attorney. And then how much more scientifically and +systematically they set to work than we amateurs do! how noiselessly +they bag a hare, smoke a pheasant, or knock a buck down with an air-gun! +how independent are they of any license, except that of a good eye, and +a swift pair of legs! how unnecessary is it for them to ask permission +to shoot over Mr. So-and-so's grounds, or my Lord That's preserves! +they are free of every cover, and indifferent to any alteration in the +game laws. I've some thoughts, when everything else fails, of taking to +poaching myself. In my opinion, a poacher's a highly respectable +character. What say you, Mr. Coates?" turning very gravely to that +gentleman. + +"Such a question, sir," replied Coates, bridling up, "scarcely deserves +a serious answer. I make no doubt you will next maintain that a +highwayman is a gentleman." + +"Most undoubtedly," replied Palmer, in the same grave tone, which might +have passed for banter, had Jack ever bantered. "I'll maintain and prove +it. I don't see how he can be otherwise. It is as necessary for a man to +be a gentleman before he can turn highwayman, as it is for a doctor to +have his diploma, or an attorney his certificate. Some of the finest +gentlemen of their day, as Captain Lovelace, Hind, Hannum, and Dudley, +were eminent on the road, and they set the fashion. Ever since their day +a real highwayman would consider himself disgraced, if he did not +conduct himself in every way like a gentleman. Of course, there are +pretenders in this line, as in everything else. But these are only +exceptions, and prove the rule. What are the distinguishing +characteristics of a fine gentleman?--perfect knowledge of the +world--perfect independence of character--notoriety--command of +cash--and inordinate success with the women. You grant all these +premises? First, then, it is part of a highwayman's business to be +thoroughly acquainted with the world. He is the easiest and pleasantest +fellow going. There is Tom King, for example: he is the handsomest man +about town, and the best-bred fellow on the road. Then whose +inclinations are so uncontrolled as the highwayman's, so long as the +mopuses last? who produces so great an effect by so few words?--'STAND +AND DELIVER!' is sure to arrest attention. Every one is captivated by an +address so _taking_. As to money, he wins a purse of a hundred guineas +as easily as you would the same sum from the faro table. And wherein +lies the difference? only in the name of the game. Who so little need +of a banker as he? all he has to apprehend is a check--all he has to +draw is a trigger. As to the women, they dote upon him: not even your +red-coat is so successful. Look at a highwayman mounted on his flying +steed, with his pistols in his holsters, and his mask upon his face. +What can be a more gallant sight? The clatter of his horse's heels is +like music to his ear--he is in full quest--he shouts to the fugitive +horseman to stay--the other flies all the faster--what chase can be half +so exciting as that? Suppose he overtakes his prey, which ten to one he +will, how readily his summons to deliver is obeyed! how satisfactory is +the appropriation of a lusty purse or corpulent pocket-book!--getting +the brush is nothing to it. How tranquilly he departs, takes off his hat +to his accommodating acquaintance, wishes him a pleasant journey, and +disappears across the heath! England, sir, has reason to be proud of her +highwaymen. They are peculiar to her clime, and are as much before the +brigand of Italy, the contrabandist of Spain, or the cut-purse of +France--as her sailors are before all the rest of the world. The day +will never come, I hope, when we shall degenerate into the footpad, and +lose our _Night Errantry_. Even the French borrow from us--they have +only one highwayman of eminence, and he learnt and practised his art in +England." + +"And who was he, may I ask?" said Coates. + +"Claude Du-Val," replied Jack; "and though a Frenchman, he was a deuced +fine fellow in his day--quite a tip-top macaroni--he could skip and +twirl like a figurant, warble like an opera-singer, and play the +flageolet better than any man of his day--he always carried a lute in +his pocket, along with his snappers. And then his dress--it was quite +beautiful to see how smartly he was rigg'd out, all velvet and lace; and +even with his vizard on his face, the ladies used to cry out to see him. +Then he took a purse with the air and grace of a receiver-general. All +the women adored him--and that, bless their pretty faces! was the best +proof of his gentility. I wish he'd not been a Mounseer. The women +never mistake. _They_ can always discover the true gentlemen, and they +were all, of every degree, from the countess to the kitchen-maid, over +head and ears in love with him." + +"But he was taken, I suppose?" asked Coates. + +"Ay," responded Jack, "the women were his undoing, as they've been many +a brave fellow's before, and will be again." Touched by which +reflection, Jack became for once in his life sentimental, and sighed. +"Poor Du-Val! he was seized at the Hole-in-the-Wall in Chandos-street by +the bailiff of Westminster, when dead drunk, his liquor having been +drugged by his dells--and was shortly afterwards hanged at Tyburn." + +"It was thousand pities," said Mr. Coates, with a sneer, "that so fine a +gentleman should come to so ignominious an end!" + +"Quite the contrary," returned Jack. "As his biographer, Doctor Pope, +properly remarks, 'Who is there worthy of the name of man, that would +not prefer such a death before a mean, solitary, inglorious life?' +By-the-by, Titus, as we're upon the subject, if you like I'll sing you a +song about highwaymen." + +"I should like it of all things," replied Titus, who entertained a very +favorable opinion of Jack's vocal powers, and was by no means an +indifferent performer; "only let it be in a minor key." + +Jack required no further encouragement, but disregarding the hints and +looks of Coates, sang with much unction the following ballad to a good +old tune, then very popular--the merit of which "nobody can deny." + + A CHAPTER OF HIGHWAYMEN + + Of every rascal of every kind, + The most notorious to my mind, + Was the Cavalier Captain, gay JEMMY HIND![7] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + But the pleasantest coxcomb among them all + For lute, coranto, and madrigal, + Was the galliard Frenchman, CLAUDE DU-VAL![8] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + And Tobygloak never a coach could rob, + Could lighten a pocket, or empty a fob, + With a neater hand than OLD MOB, OLD MOB![9] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + Nor did housebreaker ever deal harder knocks + On the stubborn lid of a good strong box, + Than that prince of good fellows, TOM COX, TOM COX![10] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + A blither fellow on broad highway, + Did never with oath bid traveller stay, + Than devil-may-care WILL HOLLOWAY![11] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + And in roguery naught could exceed the tricks + Of GETTINGS and GREY, and the five or six + Who trod in the steps of bold NEDDY WICKS![12] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + Nor could any so handily break a lock + As SHEPPARD, who stood on the Newgate dock, + And nicknamed the jailers around him "_his flock_!"[13] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + Nor did highwaymen ever before possess + For ease, for security, danger, distress, + Such a mare as DICK TURPIN'S Black Bess! Black Bess! + _Which nobody can deny._ + +"A capital song, by the powers!" cried Titus, as Jack's ditty came to a +close. "But your English robbers are nothing at all, compared with our +Tories[14] and Rapparees--nothing at all. They were the _raal_ +gentlemen--they were the boys to cut a throat _aisily_." + +"Pshaw!" exclaimed Jack, in disgust, "the gentlemen I speak of never +maltreated any one, except in self-defence." + +"Maybe not," replied Titus; "I'll not dispute the point--but these +Rapparees were true brothers of the blade, and gentlemen every inch. +I'll just sing you a song I made about them myself. But meanwhile don't +let's forget the bottle--talking's dry work. My service to you, doctor!" +added he, winking at the somnolent Small. And tossing off his glass, +Titus delivered himself with much joviality of the following ballad; the +words of which he adapted to the tune of the _Groves of the Pool_: + + THE RAPPAREES + + Let the Englishman boast of his Turpins and Sheppards, as cocks of + the walk, + His Mulsacks, and Cheneys, and Swiftnecks[15]--it's all botheration + and talk; + Compared with the robbers of Ireland, they don't come within half a + mile, + There never were yet any rascals like those of my own native isle! + + First and foremost comes REDMOND O'HANLON, allowed the first thief + of the world,[16] + That o'er the broad province of Ulster the Rapparee banner unfurled; + Och! he was an elegant fellow, as ever you saw in your life, + At fingering the blunderbuss trigger, or handling the throat-cutting + knife. + + And then such a dare-devil squadron as that which composed REDMOND'S + _tail_! + Meel, Mactigh, Jack Reilly, Shan Bernagh, Phil Galloge, and Arthur + O'Neal; + _Shure_ never were any boys like 'em for rows, _agitations_, and + sprees, + Not a _rap_ did they leave in the country, and hence they were + called _Rap_parees.[17] + + Next comes POWER, the great Tory[18] of Munster, a gentleman born + every inch, + And strong JACK MACPHERSON of Leinster, a horse-shoe who broke at a + pinch; + The last was a fellow so _lively_, not death e'en his courage could + damp, + For as he was led to the gallows, he played his own "march to the + camp."[19] + + PADDY FLEMING, DICK BALF, and MULHONI, I think are the next on my list, + All adepts in the beautiful science of giving a pocket a twist; + JEMMY CARRICK must follow his leaders, _ould_ PURNEY who put in a huff, + By dancing a hornpipe at Tyburn, and bothering the hangman for snuff. + + There's PAUL LIDDY, the curly-pate Tory, whose noddle was stuck on a + spike, + And BILLY DELANEY, the "_Songster_,"[20] we never shall meet with + his like; + For his neck by a witch was anointed, and warranted safe by her charm, + No hemp that was ever yet twisted his wonderful throttle could harm. + + And lastly, there's CAHIR NA CAPPUL, the handiest rogue of them all, + Who only need whisper a word, and your horse will trot out of his + stall; + Your tit is not safe in your stable, though you or your groom should + be near, + And devil a bit in the paddock, if CAHIR gets _hould_ of his ear. + + Then success to the Tories of Ireland, the generous, the gallant, + the gay! + With them the best _Rumpads_[21] of England are not to be named the + same day! + And were further proof wanting to show what precedence we take with + our _prigs_, + Recollect that _our_ robbers are Tories, while those of _your_ + country are Whigs. + +"Bravissimo!" cried Jack, drumming upon the table. + +"Well," said Coates, "we've had enough about the Irish highwaymen, in +all conscience. But there's a rascal on our side of the Channel, whom +you have only incidentally mentioned, and who makes more noise than them +all put together." + +"Who's that?" asked Jack, with some curiosity. + +"Dick Turpin," replied the attorney: "he seems to me quite as worthy of +mention as any of the Hinds, the Du-Vals, or the O'Hanlons, you have +either of you enumerated." + +"I did not think of him," replied Palmer, smiling; "though, if I had, he +scarcely deserves to be ranked with those illustrious heroes." + +"Gads bobs!" cried Titus; "they tell me Turpin keeps the best nag in the +United Kingdom, and can ride faster and further in a day than any other +man in a week." + +"So I've heard," said Palmer, with a glance of satisfaction. "I should +like to try a run with him. I warrant me, I'd not be far behind." + +"I should like to get a peep at him," quoth Titus. + +"So should I," added Coates. "Vastly!" + +"You may both of you be gratified, gentlemen," said Palmer. "Talking of +Dick Turpin, they say, is like speaking of the devil, he's at your elbow +ere the word's well out of your mouth. He may be within hearing at this +moment, for anything we know to the contrary." + +"Body o' me!" ejaculated Coates, "you don't say so? Turpin in Yorkshire! +I thought he confined his exploits to the neighborhood of the +metropolis, and made Epping Forest his headquarters." + +"So he did," replied Jack, "but the cave is all up now. The whole of the +great North Road, from Tottenham Cross to York gates, comes within +Dick's present range; and Saint Nicholas only knows in which part of it +he is most likely to be found. He shifts his quarters as often and as +readily as a Tartar; and he who looks for him may chance to catch a +Tartar--ha!--ha!" + +"It's a disgrace to the country that such a rascal should remain +unhanged," returned Coates, peevishly. "Government ought to look to it. +Is the whole kingdom to be kept in a state of agitation by a single +highwayman?--Sir Robert Walpole should take the affair into his own +hands." + +"Fudge!" exclaimed Jack, emptying his glass. + +"I have already addressed a letter to the editor of the _Common Sense_ +on the subject," said Coates, "in which I have spoken my mind pretty +plainly: and I repeat, it is perfectly disgraceful that such a rascal +should be suffered to remain at large." + +"You don't happen to have that letter by you, I suppose," said Jack, "or +I should beg the favor to hear it?--I am not acquainted with the +newspaper to which you allude;--I read _Fog's Journal_." + +"So I thought," replied Coates, with a sneer; "that's the reason you are +so easily mystified. But luckily I have the paper in my pocket; and you +are quite welcome to my opinions. Here it is," added he, drawing forth a +newspaper. "I shall waive my preliminary remarks, and come to the point +at once." + +"By all means," said Jack. + +"'I thank God,'" began Coates, in an authoritative tone, "'that I was +born in a country that hath formerly emulated the Romans in their public +spirit; as is evident from their conquests abroad, and their struggles +for liberty at home.'" + +"What has all this got to do with Turpin?" interposed Jack. + +"You will hear," replied the attorney--"no interruptions if you please. +'But this noble principle,'" continued he, with great emphasis, "'though +not utterly lost, I cannot think at present so active as it ought to be +in a nation so jealous of her liberty.'" + +"Good!" exclaimed Jack. "There is more than '_common sense_' in that +observation, Mr. Coates." + +"'My suspicion,'" proceeded Coates, "'is founded on a late instance. I +mean the flagrant, undisturbed success of the notorious TURPIN, who hath +robb'd in a manner scarce ever known before for several years, and is +grown so insolent and impudent as to threaten particular persons, and +become openly dangerous to the lives as well as fortunes of the people +of England.'" + +"Better and better," shouted Jack, laughing immoderately. "Pray go on, +sir." + +"'That a fellow,'" continued Coates, "'who is known to be a thief by the +whole kingdom, shall for so long a time continue to rob us, and not only +rob us, but make a jest of us----'" + +"Ha--ha--ha--capital! Excuse me, sir," roared Jack, laughing till the +tears ran down his cheeks--"pray, pray, go on." + +"I see nothing to laugh at," replied Coates, somewhat offended; +"however, I will conclude my letter, since I have begun it--'not only +rob us, but make a jest of us, shall defy the laws, and laugh at +justice, argues a want of public spirit, which should make every +particular member of the community sensible of the public calamity, and +ambitious of the honor of extirpating such a notorious highwayman from +society, since he owes his long successes to no other cause than his +immoderate impudence, and the sloth and pusillanimity of those who ought +to bring him to justice.' I will not deny," continued Coates, "that, +professing myself, as I do, to be a staunch new Whig, I had not some +covert political object in penning this epistle.[22] Nevertheless, +setting aside my principles----" + +"Right," observed Jack; "you Whigs, new or old, always set aside your +principles." + +"Setting aside any political feeling I may entertain," continued Coates, +disregarding the interruption, "I repeat, I am ambitious of extirpating +this modern Cacus--this Autolycus of the eighteenth century." + +"And what course do you mean to pursue?" asked Jack, "for I suppose you +do not expect to catch this '_ought-to-lick-us_,' as you call him, by a +line in the newspapers." + +"I am in the habit of keeping my own counsel, sir," replied Coates, +pettishly; "and to be plain with you, I hope to finger all the reward +myself." + +"Oons, is there a reward offered for Turpin's apprehension?" asked +Titus. + +"No less than two hundred pounds," answered Coates, "and that's no +trifle, as you will both admit. Have you not seen the king's +proclamation, Mr. Palmer?" + +"Not I," replied Jack, with affected indifference. + +"Nor I," added Titus, with some appearance of curiosity; "do you happen +to have _that_ by you too?" + +"I always carry it about with me," replied Coates, "that I may refer to +it in case of emergency. My father, Christopher, or Kit Coates, as he +was familiarly called, was a celebrated thief-taker. He apprehended +Spicket, and Child, and half a dozen others, and always kept their +descriptions in his pocket. I endeavor to tread in my worthy father's +footsteps. I hope to signalize myself by capturing a highwayman. +By-the-by," added he, surveying Jack more narrowly, "it occurs to me +that Turpin must be rather like you, Mr. Palmer?" + +"Like me," said Jack, regarding Coates askance; "like me--how am I to +understand you, sir, eh?" + +"No offence; none whatever, sir. Ah! stay, you won't object to my +comparing the description. That _can_ do no harm. Nobody would take you +for a highwayman--nobody whatever--ha! ha! Singular resemblance--he--he. +These things _do_ happen sometimes: not very often, though. But here is +Turpin's description in the _Gazette_, _June 28th_, A.D. 1737:--'_It +having been represented to the King that Richard Turpin did, on +Wednesday, the 4th of May last, rob on his Majesty's highway Vavasour +Mowbray, Esq., Major of the 2d troop of Horse Grenadiers_'--that Major +Mowbray, by-the-by, is a nephew of the late Sir Piers, and cousin of the +present baronet--'_and commit other notorious felonies and robberies +near London, his Majesty is pleased to promise his most gracious pardon +to any of his accomplices, and a reward of two hundred pounds to any +person or persons who shall discover him, so as he may be apprehended +and convicted_.'" + +"Odsbodikins!" exclaimed Titus, "a noble reward! I should like to lay +hands upon Turpin," added he, slapping Palmer's shoulder: "I wish he +were in your place at this moment, Jack." + +"Thank you!" replied Palmer, shifting his chair. + +"'_Turpin_,'" continued Coates, "'_was born at Thacksted, in Essex; is +about thirty_'--you, sir, I believe, are about thirty?" added he, +addressing Palmer. + +"Thereabouts," said Jack, bluffly. "But what has my age to do with that +of Turpin?" + +"Nothing--nothing at all," answered Coates; "suffer me, however, to +proceed:--'_Is by trade a butcher_,'--you, sir, I believe, never had any +dealings in that line?" + +"I have some notion how to dispose of a troublesome calf," returned +Jack. "But Turpin, though described as a butcher, is, I understand, a +lineal descendant of a great French archbishop of the same name." + +"Who wrote the chronicles of that royal robber Charlemagne; I know him," +replied Coates--"a terrible liar!--The modern Turpin '_is about five +feet nine inches high_'--exactly your height, sir--exactly!" + +"I am five feet ten," answered Jack, standing bolt upright. + +"You have an inch, then, in your favor," returned the unperturbed +attorney, deliberately proceeding with his examination--"'_he has a +brown complexion, marked with the smallpox_.'" + +"My complexion is florid--my face without a seam," quoth Jack. + +"Those whiskers would conceal anything," replied Coates, with a grin. +"Nobody wears whiskers nowadays, except a highwayman." + +"Sir!" said Jack, sternly. "You are personal." + +"I don't mean to be so," replied Coates; "but you must allow the +description tallies with your own in a remarkable manner. Hear me out, +however--'_his cheek bones are broad--his face is thinner towards the +bottom--his visage short--pretty upright--and broad about the +shoulders_.' Now I appeal to Mr. Tyrconnel if all this does not sound +like a portrait of yourself." + +"Don't appeal to me," said Titus, hastily, "upon such a delicate point. +I can't say that I approve of a gentleman being likened to a highwayman. +But if ever there was a highwayman I'd wish to resemble, it's either +Redmond O'Hanlon or Richard Turpin; and may the devil burn me if I know +which of the two is the greater rascal!" + +"Well, Mr. Palmer," said Coates, "I repeat, I mean no offence. +Likenesses are unaccountable. I am said to be like my Lord North; +whether I am or not, the Lord knows. But if ever I meet with Turpin I +shall bear you in mind--he--he! Ah! if ever I _should_ have the good +luck to stumble upon him, I've a plan for his capture which couldn't +fail. Only let me get a glimpse of him, that's all. You shall see how +I'll dispose of him." + +"Well, sir, we _shall_ see," observed Palmer. "And for your own sake, I +wish you may never be nearer to him than you are at this moment. With +his friends, they say Dick Turpin can be as gentle as a lamb; with his +foes, especially with a limb of the law like yourself, he's been found +but an ugly customer. I once saw him at Newmarket, where he was collared +by two constable culls, one on each side. Shaking off one, and dealing +the other a blow in the face with his heavy-handled whip, he stuck spurs +into his mare, and though the whole field gave chase, he distanced them +all, easily." + +"And how came you not to try your pace with him, if you were there, as +you boasted a short time ago?" asked Coates. + +"So I did, and stuck closer to him than any one else. We were neck and +neck. I was the only person who could have delivered him to the hands of +justice, if I'd felt inclined." + +"Zounds!" cried Coates; "If I had a similar opportunity, it should be +neck or nothing. Either he or I should reach the scragging-post first. +I'd take him, dead or alive." + +"_You_ take Turpin?" cried Jack, with a sneer. + +"I'd engage to do it," replied Coates. "I'll bet you a hundred guineas I +take him, if I ever have the same chance." + +"Done!" exclaimed Jack, rapping the table at the same time, so that the +glasses danced upon it. + +"That's right," cried Titus. "I'll go you halves." + +"What's the matter--what's the matter?" exclaimed Small, awakened from +his doze. + +"Only a trifling bet about a highwayman," replied Titus. + +"A highwayman!" echoed Small. "Eh! what? there are none in the house, I +hope." + +"I hope not," answered Coates. "But this gentleman has taken up the +defence of the notorious Dick Turpin in so singular a manner, that----" + +"_Quod factu f[oe]dum est, idem est et Dictu Turpe_," returned Small. +"The less said about that rascal the better." + +"So I think," replied Jack. "The fact is as you say, sir--were Dick +here, he would, I am sure, take the _freedom to hide 'em_." + +Further discourse was cut short by the sudden opening of the door, +followed by the abrupt entrance of a tall, slender young man, who +hastily advanced towards the table, around which the company were +seated. His appearance excited the utmost astonishment in the whole +group: curiosity was exhibited in every countenance--the magnum remained +poised midway in the hand of Palmer--Dr. Small scorched his thumb in the +bowl of his pipe; and Mr. Coates was almost choked, by swallowing an +inordinate whiff of vapor. + +"Young Sir Ranulph!" ejaculated he, as soon as the syncope would permit +him. + +"Sir Ranulph here?" echoed Palmer, rising. + +"Angels and ministers!" exclaimed Small. + +"Odsbodikins!" cried Titus, with a theatrical start; "this is more than +I expected." + +"Gentlemen," said Ranulph, "do not let my unexpected arrival here +discompose you. Dr. Small, you will excuse the manner of my greeting; +and you, Mr. Coates. One of the present party, I believe, was my +father's medical attendant, Dr. Tyrconnel." + +"I had that honor," replied the Irishman, bowing profoundly--"I am Dr. +Tyrconnel, Sir Ranulph, at your service." + +"When, and at what hour, did my father breathe his last, sir?" inquired +Ranulph. + +"Poor Sir Piers," answered Titus, again bowing, "departed this life on +Thursday last." + +"The hour?--the precise minute?" asked Ranulph, eagerly. + +"Troth, Sir Ranulph, as nearly as I can recollect, it might be a few +minutes before midnight." + +"The very hour!" exclaimed Ranulph, striding towards the window. His +steps were arrested as his eye fell upon the attire of his father, +which, as we have before noticed, hung at that end of the room. A slight +shudder passed over his frame. There was a momentary pause, during which +Ranulph continued gazing intently at the apparel. "The very dress, too!" +muttered he; then turning to the assembly, who were watching his +movements with surprise; "Doctor," said he, addressing Small, "I have +something for your private ear. Gentlemen, will you spare us the room +for a few minutes?" + +"On my conscience," said Tyrconnel to Jack Palmer, as they quitted the +sanctum, "a mighty fine boy is this young Sir Ranulph!--and a chip of +the ould block!--he'll be as good a fellow as his father." + +"No doubt," replied Palmer, shutting the door. "But what the devil +brought him back, just in the nick of it?" + + + + +_CHAPTER X_ + +_RANULPH ROOKWOOD_ + + _Fer._ Yes, Francisco, + He hath left his curse upon me. + + _Fran._ How? + + _Fer._ His curse I dost comprehend what that word carries? + Shot from a father's angry breath? Unless + I tear poor Felisarda from my heart, + He hath pronounced me heir to all his curses. + + SHIRLEY: _The Brothers_. + + +"There is nothing, I trust, my dear young friend, and quondam pupil," +said Dr. Small, as the door was closed, "that weighs upon your mind, +beyond the sorrow naturally incident to an affliction, severe as the +present. Forgive my apprehensions if I am wrong. You know the +affectionate interest I have ever felt for you--an interest which, I +assure you, is nowise diminished, and which will excuse my urging you to +unburden your mind to me; assuring yourself, that whatever may be your +disclosure, you will have my sincere sympathy and commiseration. I may +be better able to advise with you, should counsel be necessary, than +others, from my knowledge of your character and temperament. I would not +anticipate evil, and am, perhaps, unnecessarily apprehensive. But I own, +I am startled at the incoherence of your expressions, coupled with your +sudden and almost mysterious appearance at this distressing conjuncture. +Answer me: has your return been the result of mere accident? is it to be +considered one of those singular circumstances which almost look like +fate, and baffle our comprehension? or were you nearer home than we +expected, and received the news of your father's demise through some +channel unknown to us? Satisfy my curiosity, I beg of you, upon this +point." + +"Your curiosity, my dear sir," replied Ranulph, gravely and sadly, "will +not be decreased, when I tell you, that my return has neither been the +work of chance,--for I came, fully anticipating the dread event, which I +find realized,--nor has it been occasioned by any intelligence derived +from yourself, or others. It was only, indeed, upon my arrival here that +I received full confirmation of my apprehensions. I had another, a more +terrible summons to return." + +"What summons? you perplex me!" exclaimed Small, gazing with some +misgiving into the face of his young friend. + +"I am myself perplexed--sorely perplexed," returned Ranulph. "I have +much to relate; but I pray you bear with me to the end. I have that on +my mind which, like guilt, must be revealed." + +"Speak, then, fearlessly to me," said Small, affectionately pressing +Ranulph's hand, "and assure yourself, beforehand, of my sympathy." + +"It will be necessary," said Ranulph, "to preface my narrative by some +slight allusion to certain painful events--and yet I know not why I +should call them painful, excepting in their consequences--which +influenced my conduct in my final interview between my father and +myself--an interview which occasioned my departure for the +Continent--and which was of a character so dreadful, that I would not +even revert to it, were it not a necessary preliminary to the +circumstance I am about to detail. + +"When I left Oxford, I passed a few weeks alone, in London. A college +friend, whom I accidentally met, introduced me, during a promenade in +St. James's Park, to some acquaintances of his own, who were taking an +airing in the Mall at the same time--a family whose name was Mowbray, +consisting of a widow lady, her son, and daughter. This introduction was +made in compliance with my own request. I had been struck by the +singular beauty of the younger lady, whose countenance had a peculiar +and inexpressible charm to me, from its marked resemblance to the +portrait of the Lady Eleanor Rookwood, whose charms and unhappy fate I +have so often dwelt upon and deplored. The picture is there," continued +Ranulph, pointing to it: "look at it, and you have the fair creature I +speak of before you; the color of the hair--the tenderness of the eyes. +No--the expression is not so sad, except when----but no matter! I +recognized her features at once. + +"It struck me, that upon the mention of my name, the party betrayed some +surprise, especially the elder lady. For my own part, I was so attracted +by the beauty of the daughter, the effect of which upon me seemed rather +the fulfilment of a predestined event, originating in the strange +fascination which the family portrait had wrought in my heart, than the +operation of what is called 'love at first sight,' that I was insensible +to the agitation of the mother. In vain I endeavored to rally myself; my +efforts at conversation were fruitless; I could not talk--all I could do +was silently to yield to the soft witchery of those tender eyes; my +admiration increasing each instant that I gazed upon them. + +"I accompanied them home. Attracted as by some irresistible spell, I +could not tear myself away; so that, although I fancied I could perceive +symptoms of displeasure in the looks of both the mother and the son, +yet, regardless of consequences, I ventured, uninvited, to enter the +house. In order to shake off the restraint which I felt my society +imposed, I found it absolutely necessary to divest myself of +bashfulness, and to exert such conversational powers as I possessed. I +succeeded so well that the discourse soon became lively and animated; +and what chiefly delighted me was, that _she_, for whose sake I had +committed my present rudeness, became radiant with smiles. I had been +all eagerness to seek for some explanation of the resemblance to which I +have just alluded, and the fitting moment had, I conceived, arrived. I +called attention to a peculiar expression in the features of Miss +Mowbray, and then instanced the likeness that subsisted between her and +my ancestress. 'It is the more singular,' I said, turning to her mother, +'because there could have been no affinity, that I am aware of, between +them, and yet the likeness is really surprising.'--'It is not so +singular as you imagine,' answered Mrs. Mowbray; 'there _is_ a close +affinity. That Lady Rookwood was my mother. Eleanor Mowbray _does_ +resemble her ill-fated ancestress.' + +"Words cannot paint my astonishment. I gazed at Mrs. Mowbray, +considering whether I had not misconstrued her speech--whether I had not +so shaped the sounds as to suit my own quick and passionate conceptions. +But no! I read in her calm, collected countenance--in the downcast +glance, and sudden sadness of Eleanor, as well as in the changed and +haughty demeanor of the brother, that I had heard her rightly. Eleanor +Mowbray was my cousin--the descendant of that hapless creature whose +image I had almost worshipped. + +"Recovering from my surprise, I addressed Mrs. Mowbray, endeavoring to +excuse my ignorance of our relationship, on the plea that I had not been +given to understand that such had been the name of the gentleman she had +espoused. 'Nor was it,' answered she, 'the name he bore at Rookwood; +circumstances forbade it then. From the hour I quitted that house until +this moment, excepting one interview with my--with Sir Reginald +Rookwood--I have seen none of my family--have held no communication with +them. My brothers have been strangers to me; the very name of Rookwood +has been unheard, unknown; nor would you have been admitted here, had +not accident occasioned it.' I ventured now to interrupt her, and to +express a hope that she would suffer an acquaintance to be kept up, +which had so fortunately commenced, and which might most probably bring +about an entire reconciliation between the families. I was so earnest in +my expostulations, my whole soul being in them, that she inclined a +more friendly ear to me. Eleanor, too, smiled encouragement. Love lent +me eloquence; and at length, as a token of my success, and her own +relenting, Mrs. Mowbray held forth her hand: I clasped it eagerly. It +was the happiest moment of my life. + +"I will not trouble you with any lengthened description of Eleanor +Mowbray. I hope, at some period or other, you may still be enabled to +see her, and judge for yourself; for though adverse circumstances have +hitherto conspired to separate us, the time for a renewal of our +acquaintance is approaching, I trust, for I am not yet altogether +without hope. But this much I may be allowed to say, that her rare +endowments of person were only equalled by the graces of her mind. + +"Educated abroad, she had all the vivacity of our livelier neighbors, +combined with every solid qualification which we claim as more +essentially our own. Her light and frolic manner was French, certainly; +but her gentle, sincere heart was as surely English. The foreign accent +that dwelt upon her tongue communicated an inexpressible charm, even to +the language which she spoke. + +"I will not dwell too long upon this theme. I feel ashamed of my own +prolixity. And yet I am sure you will pardon it. Ah, those bright brief +days! too quickly were they fled! I could expatiate upon each +minute--recall each word--revive each look. It may not be. I must hasten +on. Darker themes await me. + +"My love made rapid progress--I became each hour more enamored of my +new-found cousin. My whole time was passed near her; indeed, I could +scarcely exist in absence from her side. Short, however, was destined to +be my indulgence in this blissful state. One happy week was its extent. +I received a peremptory summons from my father to return home. + +"Immediately upon commencing this acquaintance, I had written to my +father, explaining every particular attending it. This I should have +done of my own free will, but I was urged to it by Mrs. Mowbray. +Unaccustomed to disguise, I had expatiated upon the beauty of Eleanor, +and in such terms, I fear, that I excited some uneasiness in his breast. +His letter was laconic. He made no allusion to the subject upon which I +had expatiated when writing to him. He commanded me to return. + +"The bitter hour was at hand. I could not hesitate to comply. Without my +father's sanction, I was assured Mrs. Mowbray would not permit any +continuance of my acquaintance. Of Eleanor's inclinations I fancied I +had some assurance; but without her mother's consent, to whose will she +was devoted, I felt, had I even been inclined to urge it, that my suit +was hopeless. The letter which I had received from my father made me +more than doubt whether I should not find him utterly adverse to my +wishes. Agonized, therefore, with a thousand apprehensions, I presented +myself on the morning of my departure. It was then I made the +declaration of my passion to Eleanor; it was then that every hope was +confirmed, every apprehension realized. I received from her lips a +confirmation of my fondest wishes; yet were those hopes blighted in the +bud, when I heard, at the same time, that their consummation was +dependent on the will of two others, whose assenting voices, she feared, +could never be obtained. From Mrs. Mowbray I received a more decided +reply. All her haughtiness was aroused. Her farewell words assured me, +that it was indifferent to her whether we met again as relatives or as +strangers. Then was it that the native tenderness of Eleanor displayed +itself, in an outbreak of feeling peculiar to a heart keenly sympathetic +as hers. She saw my suffering--the reserve natural to her sex gave +way--she flung herself into my arms--and so we parted. + +"With a heavy foreboding I returned to Rookwood, and, oppressed with the +gloomiest anticipations, endeavored to prepare myself for the worst. I +arrived. My reception was such as I had calculated upon; and, to +increase my distress, my parents had been at variance. I will not pain +you and myself with any recital of their disagreement. My mother had +espoused my cause, chiefly, I fear, with the view of thwarting my poor +father's inclinations. He was in a terrible mood, exasperated by the +fiery stimulants he had swallowed, which had not indeed, drowned his +reason, but roused and inflamed every dormant emotion to violence. He +was as one insane. It was evening when I arrived. I would willingly have +postponed the interview till the morrow. It could not be. He insisted +upon seeing me. + +"My mother was present. You know the restraint she usually had over my +father, and how she maintained it. On this occasion she had none. He +questioned me as to every particular; probed my secret soul; dragged +forth every latent feeling, and then thundered out his own determination +that Eleanor never should be bride of mine; nor would he receive, under +his roof, her mother, the discountenanced daughter of his father. I +endeavored to remonstrate with him. He was deaf to my entreaties. My +mother added sharp and stinging words to my expostulations. 'I had her +consent,' she said; 'what more was needed? The lands were entailed. I +should at no distant period be their master, and might then please +myself.' This I mention in order to give you my father's strange answer. + +"'Have a care, madam,' replied he, 'and bridle your tongue; they _are_ +entailed, 'tis true, but I need not ask _his_ consent to cut off that +entail. Let him dare to disobey me in this particular, and I will so +divert the channel of my wealth, that no drop shall reach him. I +will--but why threaten?--let him do it, and approve the consequences.' + +"On the morrow I renewed my importunities, with no better success. We +were alone. + +"'Ranulph,' said he, 'you waste time in seeking to change my resolution. +It is unalterable. I have many motives which influence me; they are +inexplicable, but imperative. Eleanor Mowbray never can be yours. Forget +her as speedily as may be, and I pledge myself, upon whomsoever else +your choice may fix, I will offer no obstacle.' + +"'But why,' exclaimed I, with vehemence, 'do you object to one whom you +have never beheld? At least, consent to see her.' + +"'Never!' he replied, 'The tie is sundered, and cannot be reunited; my +father bound me by an oath never to meet in friendship with my sister; I +will not break my vow, I will not violate its conditions, even in the +second degree. We never can meet again. An idle prophecy which I have +heard has said "_that when a Rookwood shall marry a Rookwood the end of +the house draweth nigh_." That I regard not. It may have no meaning, or +it may have much. To me it imports nothing further, than that, if you +wed Eleanor, every acre I possess shall depart from you. And assure +yourself this is no idle threat. I can, and will do it. My curse shall +be your sole inheritance.' + +"I could not avoid making some reply, representing to him how +unjustifiable such a procedure was to me, in a case where the happiness +of my life was at stake; and how inconsistent it was with the charitable +precepts of our faith, to allow feelings of resentment to influence his +conduct. My remonstrances, as in the preceding meeting, were +ineffectual. The more I spoke, the more intemperate he grew. I therefore +desisted, but not before he had ordered me to quit the house. I did not +leave the neighborhood, but saw him again on the same evening. + +"Our last interview took place in the garden. I then told him that I had +determined to go abroad for two years, at the expiration of which period +I proposed returning to England; trusting that his resolution might then +be changed, and that he would listen to my request, for the fulfilment +of which I could never cease to hope. Time, I hoped, might befriend me. +He approved of my plan of travelling, requesting me not to see Eleanor +before I set out; adding, in a melancholy tone--'We may never meet +again, Ranulph, in this life; in that case, farewell forever. Indulge no +vain hopes. Eleanor never can be yours, but upon one condition, and to +that you would never consent!'--'Propose it!' I cried; 'there is no +condition I could not accede to.'--'Rash boy!' he replied, 'you know not +what you say; that pledge you would never fulfil, were I to propose it +to you; but no--should I survive till you return, you shall learn it +then--and now, farewell.'--'Speak now, I beseech you!' I exclaimed; +'anything, everything--what you will!'--'Say no more,' replied he, +walking towards the house; 'when you return we will renew this subject; +farewell--perhaps forever!' His words were prophetic--that parting _was_ +forever. I remained in the garden till nightfall. I saw my mother, but +_he_ came not again. I quitted England without beholding Eleanor." + +"Did you not acquaint her by letter with what had occurred, and your +consequent intentions?" asked Small. + +"I did," replied Ranulph; "but I received no reply. My earliest +inquiries will be directed to ascertain whether the family are still in +London. It will be a question for our consideration, whether I am not +justified in departing from my father's expressed wishes, or whether I +should violate his commands in so doing." + +"We will discuss that point hereafter," replied Small; adding, as he +noticed the growing paleness of his companion, "you are too much +exhausted to proceed--you had better defer the remainder of your story +to a future period." + +"No," replied Ranulph, swallowing a glass of water; "I am exhausted, yet +I cannot rest--my blood is in a fever, which nothing will allay. I shall +feel more easy when I have made the present communication. I am +approaching the sequel of my narrative. You are now in possession of the +story of my love--of the motive of my departure. You shall learn what +was the occasion of my return. + +"I had wandered from city to city during my term of exile--consumed by +hopeless passion--with little that could amuse _me_, though surrounded +by a thousand objects of interest to others, and only rendering life +endurable by severest study or most active exertion. My steps conducted +me to Bordeaux;--there I made a long halt, enchanted by the beauty of +the neighboring scenery. My fancy was smitten by the situation of a +villa on the banks of the Garonne, within a few leagues of the city. It +was an old chteau, with fine gardens bordering the blue waters of the +river, and commanding a multitude of enchanting prospects. The house, +which had in part gone to decay, was inhabited by an aged couple, who +had formerly been servants to an English family, the members of which +had thus provided for them on their return to their own country. I +inquired the name. Conceive my astonishment to find that this chteau +had been the residence of the Mowbrays. This intelligence decided me at +once--I took up my abode in the house; and a new and unexpected source +of solace and delight was opened to me, I traced the paths she had +traced; occupied the room she had occupied; tended the flowers she had +tended; and, on the golden summer evenings, would watch the rapid +waters, tinged with all the glorious hues of sunset, sweeping past my +feet, and think how _she_ had watched them. Her presence seemed to +pervade the place. I was now comparatively happy, and, anxious to remain +unmolested, wrote home that I was leaving Bordeaux for the Pyrenees, on +my way to Spain." + +"That account arrived," observed Small. + +"One night," continued Ranulph--"'tis now the sixth since the occurrence +I am about to relate--I was seated in a bower that overlooked the river. +It had been a lovely evening--so lovely, that I lingered there, wrapped +in the heavenly contemplation of its beauties. I watched each rosy tint +reflected upon the surface of the rapid stream--now fading into +yellow--now shining silvery white. I noticed the mystic mingling of +twilight with darkness--of night with day, till the bright current on a +sudden became a black mass of waters. I could scarcely discern a +leaf--all was darkness--when lo! another change! The moon was up--a +flood of light deluged all around--the stream was dancing again in +reflected radiance, and I still lingering at its brink. + +"I had been musing for some moments, with my head resting upon my hand, +when, happening to raise my eyes, I beheld a figure immediately before +me. I was astonished at the sight, for I had perceived no one +approach--had heard no footstep advance towards me, and was satisfied +that no one besides myself could be in the garden. The presence of the +figure inspired me with an undefinable awe! and, I can scarce tell why, +but a thrilling presentiment convinced me that it was a supernatural +visitant. Without motion--without life--without substance, it seemed; +yet still the outward character of life was there. I started to my feet. +God! what did I behold? The face was turned to me--my father's face! And +what an aspect, what a look! Time can never efface that terrible +expression; it is graven upon my memory--I cannot describe it. It was +not anger--it was not pain: it was as if an eternity of woe were stamped +upon its features. It was too dreadful to behold, I would fain have +averted my gaze--my eyes were fascinated--fixed--I could not withdraw +them from the ghastly countenance. I shrank from it, yet stirred not--I +could not move a limb. Noiselessly gliding towards me, the apparition +approached. I could not retreat. It stood obstinately beside me. I +became as one half-dead. The phantom shook its head with the deepest +despair; and as the word 'Return!' sounded hollowly in my ears, it +gradually melted from my view. I cannot tell how I recovered from the +swoon into which I fell, but daybreak saw me on my way to England. I am +here. On that night--at that same hour, my father died." + +"It was, after all, then, a supernatural summons that you received?" +said Small. + +"Undoubtedly," replied Ranulph. + +"Humph!--the coincidence, I own, is sufficiently curious," returned +Small, musingly; "but it would not be difficult, I think, to discover a +satisfactory explanation of the delusion." + +"There was no delusion," replied Ranulph, coldly; "the figure was as +palpable as your own. Can I doubt, when I behold this result? Could any +deceit have been practised upon me, at that distance?--the precise time, +moreover, agreeing. Did not the phantom bid me return?--I _have_ +returned--he is dead. I have gazed upon a being of another world. To +doubt were impious, after that look." + +"Whatever my opinions may be, my dear young friend," returned Small, +gravely, "I will suspend them for the present. You are still greatly +excited. Let me advise you to seek some repose." + +"I am easier," replied Ranulph; "but you are right, I will endeavor to +snatch a little rest. Something within tells me all is not yet +accomplished. What remains?--I shudder to think of it. I will rejoin you +at midnight. I shall myself attend the solemnity. Adieu!" + +Ranulph quitted the room. Small sighingly shook his head, and having +lighted his pipe, was presently buried in a profundity of smoke and +metaphysical speculation. + + + + +_CHAPTER XI_ + +_LADY ROOKWOOD_ + + _Fran. de Med._ Your unhappy husband + Is dead. + + _Vit. Cor._ Oh, he's a happy husband! + Now he owes nature nothing. + + _Mon._ And look upon this creature as his wife. + She comes not like a widow--she comes armed + With scorn and impudence. Is this a mourning habit? + + _The White Devil._ + + +The progress of our narrative demands our presence in another apartment +of the hall--a large, lonesome chamber, situate in the eastern wing of +the house, already described as the most ancient part of the +building--the sombre appearance of which was greatly increased by the +dingy, discolored tapestry that clothed its walls; the record of the +patience and industry of a certain Dame Dorothy Rookwood, who flourished +some centuries ago, and whose skilful needle had illustrated the +slaughter of the Innocents, with a severity of _gusto_, and sanguinary +minuteness of detail, truly surprising in a lady so amiable as she was +represented to have been. Grim-visaged Herod glared from the ghostly +woof, with his shadowy legions, executing their murderous purposes, +grouped like a troop of Sabbath-dancing witches around him. Mysterious +twilight, admitted through the deep, dark, mullioned windows, revealed +the antique furniture of the room, which still boasted a sort of +mildewed splendor, more imposing, perhaps, than its original gaudy +magnificence; and showed the lofty hangings, and tall, hearse-like +canopy of a bedstead, once a couch of state, but now destined for the +repose of Lady Rookwood. The stiff crimson hangings were embroidered in +gold, with the arms and cipher of Elizabeth, from whom the apartment, +having once been occupied by that sovereign, obtained the name of the +"Queen's Room." + +The sole tenant of this chamber was a female, in whose countenance, if +time and strong emotion had written strange defeatures, they had not +obliterated its striking beauty and classical grandeur of expression. It +was a face majestical and severe. Pride was stamped in all its lines; +and though each passion was, by turns, developed, it was evident that +all were subordinate to the sin by which the angels fell. The contour of +her face was formed in the purest Grecian mould, and might have been a +model for Medea; so well did the gloomy grandeur of the brow, the severe +chiselling of the lip, the rounded beauty of the throat, and the +faultless symmetry of her full form, accord with the beau ideal of +antique perfection. Shaded by smooth folds of raven hair, which still +maintained its jetty dye, her lofty forehead would have been displayed +to the greatest advantage, had it not been at this moment knit and +deformed by excess of passion, if that passion can be said to deform +which only calls forth strong and vehement expression. Her figure, which +wanted only height to give it dignity, was arrayed in the garb of +widowhood; and if she exhibited none of the desolation of heart which +such a bereavement might have been expected to awaken, she was evidently +a prey to feelings scarcely less harrowing. At the particular time of +which we speak, Lady Rookwood, for she it was, was occupied in the +investigation of the contents of an escritoire. Examining the papers +which it contained with great deliberation, she threw each aside, as +soon as she had satisfied herself of its purport, until she arrived at a +little package, carefully tied up with black ribbon, and sealed. This, +Lady Rookwood hastily broke open, and drew forth a small miniature. It +was that of a female, young and beautiful, rudely, yet faithfully, +executed--faithfully, we say, for there was an air of sweetness and +simplicity--and, in short, a look of reality and nature about the +picture (it is seldom, indeed, that we mistake a likeness, even if we +are unacquainted with the original) that attested the artist's fidelity. +The face was as radiant with smiles as a bright day with sunbeams. The +portrait was set in gold, and behind it was looped a lock of the darkest +and finest hair. Underneath the miniature was written, in Sir Piers's +hand, the words "_Lady Rookwood_." A slip of folded paper was also +attached to it. + +Lady Rookwood scornfully scrutinized the features for a few moments, and +then unfolded the paper, at the sight of which she started, and turned +pale. "Thank God!" she cried, "this is in my possession--while I hold +this, we are safe. Were it not better to destroy this evidence at once? +No, no, not _now_--it shall not part from me. I will abide Ranulph's +return. This document will give me a power over him such as I could +never otherwise obtain." Placing the marriage certificate, for such it +was, within her breast, and laying the miniature upon the table, she +next proceeded, deliberately, to arrange the disordered contents of the +box. + +All outward traces of emotion had, ere this, become so subdued in Lady +Rookwood, that although she had, only a few moments previously, +exhibited the extremity of passionate indignation, she now, apparently +without effort, resumed entire composure, and might have been supposed +to be engaged in a matter of little interest to herself. It was a dread +calm, which they who knew her would have trembled to behold. "From these +letters I gather," exclaimed she, "that their wretched offspring knows +not of his fortune. So far, well. There is no channel whence he can +derive information, and my first care shall be to prevent his obtaining +any clue to the secret of his birth. I am directed to provide for +him--ha! ha! I will provide--a grave! There will I bury him and his +secret. My son's security and my own wrong demand it. I must choose +surer hands--the work must not be half-done, as heretofore. And now, I +bethink me, he is in the neighborhood, connected with a gang of +poachers--'tis as I could wish it." + +At this moment a knock at the chamber-door broke upon her meditations. +"Agnes, is it you?" demanded Lady Rookwood. + +Thus summoned, the old attendant entered the room. + +"Why are my orders disobeyed?" asked the lady, in a severe tone of +voice. "Did I not say, when you delivered me this package from Mr. +Coates, which he himself wished to present, that I would not be +disturbed?" + +"You did, my lady, but----" + +"Speak out," said Lady Rookwood, somewhat more mildly, perceiving, from +Agnes's manner, that she had something of importance to communicate. +"What is it brings you hither?" + +"I am sorry," returned Agnes, "to disturb your ladyship, but--but----" + +"But what?" interrupted Lady Rookwood, impatiently. + +"I could not help it, my lady--he would have me come; he said he was +resolved to see your ladyship, whether you would or not." + +"Would see me, ha! is it so? I guess his errand, and its object--he has +some suspicion. No, that cannot be; he would not dare to tamper with +these seals. Agnes, I will _not_ see him." + +"But he swears, my lady, that he will not leave the house without seeing +you--he would have forced his way into your presence, if I had not +consented to announce him." + +"Insolent!" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, with a glance of indignation; +"force his way! I promise you he shall not display an equal anxiety to +repeat the visit. Tell Mr. Coates I will see him." + +"Mr. Coates! Mercy on us, my lady, it's not he. He'd never have intruded +upon you unasked. No such thing. He knows his place too well. No, no; +it's not Mr. Coates----" + +"If not he, who is it?" + +"Luke Bradley; your ladyship knows whom I mean." + +"He here--now?----" + +"Yes, my lady; and looking so fierce and strange, I was quite frightened +to see him. He looked so like his--his----" + +"His father, you would say. Speak out." + +"No, my lady, his grandfather--old Sir Reginald. He's the very image of +him. But had not your ladyship better ring the alarm-bell? and when he +comes in, I'll run and fetch the servants--he's dangerous, I'm sure." + +"I have no fears of him. He _will_ see me, you say----" + +"Ay, _will_!" exclaimed Luke, as he threw open the door, and shut it +forcibly after him, striding towards Lady Rookwood, "nor abide longer +delay." + +It was an instant or two ere Lady Rookwood, thus taken by surprise, +could command speech. She fixed her eyes with a look of keen and angry +inquiry upon the bold intruder, who, nothing daunted, confronted her +glances with a gaze as stern and steadfast as her own. + +"Who are you, and what seek you?" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, after a brief +pause, and, in spite of herself, her voice sounded tremulously. "What +would you have, that you venture to appear before me at this season and +in this fashion?" + +"I might have chosen a fitter opportunity," returned Luke, "were it +needed. My business will not brook delay--you must be pleased to +overlook this intrusion on your privacy, at a season of sorrow like the +present. As to the fashion of my visit, you must be content to excuse +it. I cannot help myself. I may amend hereafter. Who I am, you are able, +I doubt not, to divine. What I seek, you shall hear, when this old woman +has left the room, unless you would have a witness to a declaration that +concerns you as nearly as myself." + +An indefinite feeling of apprehension had, from the first instant of +Luke's entrance crossed Lady Rookwood's mind. She, however, answered, +with some calmness: + +"What you can have to say is of small moment to me--nor does it signify +who may hear it. It shall not, however, be said that Lady Rookwood +feared to be alone, even though she endangered her life." + +"I am no assassin," replied Luke, "nor have sought the destruction of my +deadliest foe--though 'twere but retributive justice to have done so." + +Lady Rookwood started. + +"Nay, you need not fear me," replied Luke; "my revenge will be otherwise +accomplished." + +"Go," said Lady Rookwood to Agnes; "yet--stay without, in the +antechamber." + +"My lady," said Agnes, scarcely able to articulate, "shall I----" + +"Hear me, Lady Rookwood," interrupted Luke. "I repeat, I intend you no +injury. My object here is solely to obtain a private conference. You can +have no reason for denying me this request. I will not abuse your +patience. Mine is no idle mission. Say you refuse me, and I will at once +depart. I will find other means of communicating with you--less direct, +and therefore less desirable. Make your election. But we _must_ be +alone--undisturbed. Summon your household--let them lay hands upon me, +and I will proclaim aloud what you would gladly hide, even from +yourself." + +"Leave us, Agnes," said Lady Rookwood. "I have no fear of this man. I +can deal with him myself, should I see occasion." + +"Agnes," said Luke, in a stern, deep whisper, arresting the ancient +handmaiden as she passed him, "stir not from the door till I come forth. +Have you forgotten your former mistress!--my mother? Have you forgotten +Barbara Lovel, and _that night_?" + +"In Heaven's name, hush!" replied Agnes, with a shudder. + +"Let that be fresh in your memory. Move not a footstep, whatever you may +hear," added he, in the same tone as before. + +"I will not--I will not." And Agnes departed. + +Luke felt some wavering in his resolution when he found himself alone +with the lady, whose calm, collected, yet haughty demeanor, as she +resumed her seat, prepared for his communication, could not fail to +inspire him with a certain degree of awe. Not unconscious of her +advantage, nor slow to profit by it, Lady Rookwood remained perfectly +silent, with her eyes steadily fixed upon his face, while his +embarrassment momentarily increased. Summoning, at length, courage +sufficient to address her, and ashamed of his want of nerve, he thus +broke forth: + +"When I entered this room, you asked my name and object. As to the +first, I answer to the same designation as your ladyship. I have long +borne my mother's name. I now claim my father's. My object is, the +restitution of my rights." + +"Soh!--it is as I suspected," thought Lady Rookwood, involuntarily +casting her large eyes down. "Do I hear you rightly?" exclaimed she, +aloud; "your name is----" + +"Sir Luke Rookwood. As my father's elder born; by right of _his_ right +to that title." + +If a glance could have slain him, Luke had fallen lifeless at the lady's +feet. With a smile of ineffable disdain, she replied, "I know not why I +hesitate to resent this indignity, even for an instant. But I would see +how far your audacity will carry you. The name you bear is Bradley?" + +"In ignorance I have done so," replied Luke. "I am the son of her whose +maiden name was Bradley. She was----" + +"'Tis false--I will not hear it--she was _not_," cried Lady Rookwood, +her vehemence getting the master of her prudence. + +"Your ladyship anticipates my meaning," returned Luke. "Susan Bradley +was the first wife of Sir Piers Rookwood." + +"His minion--his mistress if you will; nought else. Is it new to you, +that a village wench, who lends herself to shame, should be beguiled by +such shallow pretences? That she was so duped, I doubt not. But it is +too late now to complain, and I would counsel you not to repeat your +idle boast. It will serve no other purpose, trust me, than to blazon +forth your own--your mother's dishonor." + +"Lady Rookwood," sternly answered Luke, "my mother's fame is as free +from dishonor as your own. I repeat, she was the first wife of Sir +Piers; and that I, her child, am first in the inheritance; nay, sole +heir to the estates and title of Rookwood, to the exclusion of your son. +Ponder upon that intelligence. Men say they fear you, as a thing of ill. +_I_ fear you not. There _have_ been days when the Rookwoods held their +dames in subjection. Discern you nought of that in me?" + +Once or twice during this speech Lady Rookwood's glances had wandered +towards the bell-cord, as if about to summon aid; but the intention was +abandoned almost as soon as formed, probably from apprehension of the +consequences of any such attempt. She was not without alarm as to the +result of the interview, and was considering how she could bring it to a +termination without endangering herself, and, if possible, secure the +person of Luke, when the latter, turning sharply round upon her, and +drawing a pistol, exclaimed,-- + +"Follow me!" + +"Whither?" asked she, in alarm. + +"To the chamber of death!" + +"Why there? what would you do? Villain! I will not trust my life with +you. I will _not_ follow you." + +"Hesitate not, as you value your life. Do aught to alarm the house, and +I fire. Your safety depends upon yourself. I would see my father's body +ere it be laid in the grave. I will not leave you here." + +"Go," said Lady Rookwood; "if that be all, I pledge myself you shall not +be interrupted." + +"I will not take your pledge; your presence shall be my surety. By my +mother's unavenged memory, if you play me false, though all your +satellites stand around you, you die upon the spot! Obey me, and you are +safe. Our way leads to the room by the private staircase--we shall pass +unobserved--you see I know the road. The room, by your own command, is +vacant--save of the dead. We shall, therefore, be alone. This done, I +depart. You will then be free to act. Disobey me, and your blood be upon +your own head." + +"Lead on!" said Lady Rookwood, pressing towards the antechamber. + +"The door I mean is there," pointing to another part of the room--"that +panel,--" + +"Ha! how know you that?" + +"No matter; follow." + +Luke touched a spring, and the panel flying open, disclosed a dim +recess, into which he entered; and, seizing Lady Rookwood's hand, +dragged her after him. + + + + +_CHAPTER XII_ + +_THE CHAMBER OF DEATH_ + + It is the body--I have orders given + That here it should be laid. + + _De Montfort._ + + +The recess upon which the panel opened had been a small oratory, and, +though entirely disused, still retained its cushions and its crucifix. +There were two other entrances to this place of prayer, the one +communicating with a further bedchamber, the other leading to the +gallery. Through the latter, after closing the aperture, without +relinquishing his grasp, Luke passed. + +It was growing rapidly dark, and at the brightest seasons this gloomy +corridor was but imperfectly lighted from narrow, painted, and +wire-protected windows that looked into the old quadrangular courtyard +below; and as they issued from the oratory a dazzling flash of +lightning--a storm having suddenly arisen--momentarily illumined the +whole length of the passage, disclosing the retreating figure of a man, +wrapped in a large sable cloak, at the other extremity of the gallery. +Lady Rookwood uttered an outcry for assistance; but the man, whoever he +might be, disappeared in the instantaneously succeeding gloom, leaving +her in doubt whether or not her situation had been perceived. Luke had +seen this dark figure at the same instant; and, not without +apprehensions lest his plans should be defeated, he griped Lady +Rookwood's arm still more strictly, and placing the muzzle of the pistol +to her breast, hurried her rapidly forwards. + +All was now in total obscurity; the countenance of neither could be +perceived as they trod the dark passage; but Luke's unrelaxed grasp +indicated no change in his purposes, nor did the slow, dignified march +of the lady betray any apprehension on her part. Descending a spiral +staircase, which led from the gallery to a lower story, their way now +lay beneath the entrance-hall, a means of communication little used. +Their tread sounded hollowly on the flagged floor; no other sound was +heard. Mounting a staircase, similar to the one they had just descended, +they arrived at another passage. A few paces brought them to the door. +Luke turned the handle, and they stood within the chamber of the dead. + +The room which contained the remains of poor Sir Piers was arrayed in +all that mockery of state which, vainly attempting to deride death, is +itself a bitter derision of the living. It was the one devoted to the +principal meals of the day; a strange choice, but convenience had +dictated its adoption by those with whom this part of the ceremonial had +originated, and long custom had rendered its usage, for this purpose, +almost prescriptive. This room, which was of some size, had originally +formed part of the great hall, from which it was divided by a thick +screen of black, lustrously varnished oak, enriched with fanciful +figures carved in bold relief. The walls were panelled with the same +embrowned material, and sustained sundry portraits of the members of the +family, in every possible costume, from the steely gear of Sir Ranulph, +down to the flowing attire of Sir Reginald. Most of the race were ranged +around the room; and, seen in the yellow light shed upon their features +by the flambeaux, they looked like an array of stern and silent +witnesses, gazing upon their departed descendant. The sides of the +chamber were hung with black cloth, and upon a bier in the middle of the +room rested the body. Broad escutcheons, decked out in glowing colors +pompously set forth the heraldic honors of the departed. Tall lights +burned at the head and feet, and fragrant perfumes diffused their odors +from silver censers. + +The entrance of Luke and his unwilling companion had been abrupt. The +transition from darkness to the glare of light was almost blinding, and +they had advanced far into the room ere Lady Rookwood perceived a man, +whom she took to be one of the mutes, leaning over the bier. The +coffin-lid was entirely removed, and the person, whose back was towards +them appeared to be wrapped in mournful contemplation of the sad +spectacle before him. Suddenly bursting from Luke's hold, Lady Rookwood +rushed forward with a scream, and touched the man's shoulder. He started +at the summons, and disclosed the features of her son! + +Rapidly as her own act, Luke followed. He levelled a pistol at her head, +but his hand dropped to his side as he encountered the glance of +Ranulph. All three seemed paralyzed by surprise. Ranulph, in +astonishment, extended his arm to his mother, who, placing one arm over +his shoulder, pointed with the other to Luke; the latter stared sternly +and inquiringly at both--yet none spoke. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIII_ + +_THE BROTHERS_ + + We're sorry + His violent act has e'en drawn blood of honor, + And stained our honors; + Thrown ink upon the forehead of our fame, + Which envious spirits will dip their pens into + After our death, and blot us in our tombs; + For that which would seem treason in our lives, + Is laughter when we're dead. Who dares now whisper, + That dares not then speak out; and even proclaim, + With loud words, and broad pens, our closest shame? + + _The Revenger's Tragedy._ + + +With that quickness of perception which at once supplies information on +such an emergency, Luke instantly conjectured who was before him. +Startled as he was, he yet retained his composure, abiding the result +with his arms folded upon his breast. + +"Seize him!" cried Lady Rookwood, as soon as she could command her +speech. + +"He rushes on his death if he stirs," exclaimed Luke, pointing his +pistol. + +"Bethink you where you are, villain!" cried Ranulph; "you are entrapped +in your own toils. Submit yourself to our mercy--resistance is vain, and +will not secure your safety, while it will aggravate your offence. +Surrender yourself----" + +"Never!" answered Luke. "Know you whom you ask to yield?" + +"How should I?" answered Ranulph. + +"By that instinct which tells me who _you_ are. Ask Lady Rookwood--she +can inform you, if she will." + +"Parley not with him--seize him!" cried Lady Rookwood. "He is a robber, +a murderer, who has assailed my life." + +"Beware!" said Luke to Ranulph, who was preparing to obey his mother's +commands; "I am no robber--no murderer. Do not you make me a +fratricide." + +"Fratricide!" echoed Ranulph. + +"Heed him not," ejaculated Lady Rookwood. "It is false--he dares not +harm thee, for his soul. I will call assistance." + +"Hold, mother!" exclaimed Ranulph, detaining Lady Rookwood; "this man +may be what he represents himself. Before we proceed to extremities, I +would question him. I would not have mentioned it in your hearing could +it have been avoided, but my father had another son." + +Lady Rookwood frowned. She would have checked him, but Luke rejoined-- + +"You have spoken the truth; he had a son--I am he. I----" + +"Be silent, I command you!" said Lady Rookwood. + +"Death!" cried Luke, in a loud voice. "Why should I be silent at your +bidding--at _yours_--who regard no laws, human or divine; who pursue +your own fell purposes, without fear of God or man? Waste not your +frowns on me--I heed them not. Do you think I am like a tame hound, to +be cowed to silence? I _will_ speak. Ranulph Rookwood, the name you bear +is mine, and by a right as good as is your own. From his loins, who lies +a corpse before us, I sprang. No brand of shame is on my birth. I am +your father's son--his first-born--your _elder_ brother. Hear me!" cried +he, rushing to the bier. "By this body, I swear that I have avouched the +truth--and though to me the dead Sir Piers Rookwood hath never been what +a father should be to a son--though I have never known his smile, felt +his caresses, or received his blessing, yet now be all forgiven, all +forgotten." And he cast himself with frantic violence upon the coffin. + +It is difficult to describe the feelings with which Ranulph heard Luke's +avowal. Amazement and dread predominated. Unable to stir, he stood +gazing on in silence. Not so Lady Rookwood. The moment for action was +arrived. Addressing her son in a low tone, she said, "Your prey is +within your power. Secure him." + +"Wherefore?" rejoined Ranulph; "if he be my brother, shall I raise my +hand against him?" + +"Wherefore not?" returned Lady Rookwood. + +"'Twere an accursed deed," replied Ranulph. "The mystery is resolved. +'Twas for this that I was summoned home." + +"Ha! what say you? summoned! by whom?" + +"My father!" + +"Your father?" echoed Lady Rookwood, in great surprise. + +"Ay, my dead father! He has appeared to me since his decease." + +"Ranulph, you rave--you are distracted with grief--with astonishment." + +"No, mother; but I will not struggle against my destiny." + +"Pshaw! your destiny is Rookwood, its manors, its lands, its rent-roll, +and its title; nor shall you yield it to a base-born churl like this. +Let him prove his rights. Let the law adjudge them to him, and we will +yield--but not till then. I tell thee he has _not_ the right, nor can he +maintain it. He is a deluded dreamer, who, having heard some idle tale +of his birth, believes it, because it chimes with his wishes. I treated +him with the scorn he deserved. I would have driven him from my +presence, but he was armed, as you see, and forced me hither, perhaps to +murder me; a deed he might have accomplished had it not been for your +intervention. His life is already forfeit, for an attempt of the same +sort last night. Why else came he hither? for what else did he drag me +to this spot? Let him answer that!" + +"I _will_ answer it," replied Luke, raising himself from the bier. + +His face was ghastly as the corpse over which he leaned. "I had a deed +to do, which I wished you to witness. It was a wild conception. But the +means by which I have acquired the information of my rights were wild. +Ranulph, we are both the slaves of fate. You have received your summons +hither--I have had mine. Your father's ghost called you; my mother's +spectral hand beckoned me. Both are arrived. One thing more remains, and +my mission is completed." Saying which, he drew forth the skeleton hand; +and having first taken the wedding-ring from the finger, he placed the +withered limb upon the left breast of his father's body. "Rest there," +he cried, "for ever." + +"Will you suffer that?" said Lady Rookwood, tauntingly, to her son. + +"No," replied Ranulph; "such profanation of the dead shall not be +endured, were he ten times my brother. Stand aside," added he, advancing +towards the bier, and motioning Luke away. "Withdraw your hand from my +father's body, and remove what you have placed upon it." + +"I will neither remove it nor suffer it to be removed," returned Luke. +"'Twas for that purpose I came hither. 'Twas to that hand he was united +in life, in death he shall not be divided from it." + +"Such irreverence shall not be!" exclaimed Ranulph, seizing Luke with +one hand, and snatching at the cereclothes with the other. "Remove it, +or by Heaven----" + +"Leave go your hold," said Luke, in a voice of thunder; "you strive in +vain." + +Ranulph ineffectually attempted to push him backwards; and, shaking away +the grasp that was fixed upon his collar, seized his brother's wrist, so +as to prevent the accomplishment of his purpose. In this unnatural and +indecorous strife the corpse of their father was reft of its covering +and the hand discovered lying upon the pallid breast. + +And as if the wanton impiety of their conduct called forth an immediate +rebuke, even from the dead, a frown seemed to pass over Sir Piers's +features, as their angry glances fell in that direction. This startling +effect was occasioned by the approach of Lady Rookwood, whose shadow, +falling over the brow and visage of the deceased, produced the +appearance we have described. Simultaneously quitting each other, with a +deep sense of shame, mingled with remorse, both remained, their eyes +fixed upon the dead, whose repose they had violated. + +Folding the graveclothes decently over the body, Luke prepared to +depart. + +"Hold!" cried Lady Rookwood; "you go not hence." + +"My brother Ranulph will not oppose my departure," returned Luke; "who +else shall prevent it?" + +"That will I!" cried a sharp voice behind him; and, ere he could turn to +ascertain from whom the exclamation proceeded, Luke felt himself +grappled by two nervous assailants, who, snatching the pistol from his +hold, fast pinioned his arms. + +This was scarcely the work of a moment, and he was a prisoner before he +could offer any resistance. A strong smile of exultation evinced Lady +Rookwood's satisfaction. + +"Bravo, my lads, bravo!" cried Coates, stepping forward, for he it was +under whose skilful superintendence the seizure had been effected: +"famously managed; my father the thief-taker's runners couldn't have +done it better--hand me that pistol--loaded, I see--slugs, no doubt--oh, +he's a precious rascal--search him--turn his pockets inside out, while I +speak to her ladyship." Saying which, the brisk attorney, enchanted with +the feat he had performed, approached Lady Rookwood with a profound bow, +and an amazing smirk of self-satisfaction. "Just in time to prevent +mischief," said he; "hope your ladyship does not suffer any +inconvenience from the alarm--beg pardon, annoyance I meant to +say--which this horrible outrage must have occasioned; excessively +disagreeable this sort of thing to a lady at any time, but at a period +like this more than usually provoking. However, we have the villain safe +enough. Very lucky I happened to be in the way. Perhaps your ladyship +would like to know how I discovered----" + +"Not now," replied Lady Rookwood, checking the volubility of the man of +law. "I thank you, Mr. Coates, for the service you have rendered me; you +will now add materially to the obligation by removing the prisoner with +all convenient despatch." + +"Certainly, if your ladyship wishes it. Shall I detain him a close +prisoner in the hall for the night, or remove him at once to the lock-up +house in the village?" + +"Where you please, so you do it quickly," replied Lady Rookwood, +noticing, with great uneasiness, the agitated manner of her son, and +apprehensive lest, in the presence of so many witnesses, he might say or +do something prejudicial to their interests. Nor were her fears +groundless. As Coates was about to return to the prisoner, he was +arrested by the voice of Ranulph, commanding him to stay. + +"Mr. Coates," said he, "however appearances may be against this man, he +is no robber--you must, therefore, release him." + +"Eh day, what's that? release him, Sir Ranulph?" + +"Yes, sir; I tell you he came here neither with the intent to rob nor to +offer violence." + +"That is false, Ranulph," replied Lady Rookwood. "I was dragged hither +by him at the peril of my life. He is Mr. Coates's prisoner on another +charge." + +"Unquestionably, your ladyship is perfectly right; I have a warrant +against him for assaulting Hugh Badger, the keeper, and for other +misdemeanors." + +"I will myself be responsible for his appearance to that charge," +replied Ranulph. "Now, sir, at once release him." + +"At your peril!" exclaimed Lady Rookwood. + +"Well, really," muttered the astonished attorney, "this is the most +perplexing proceeding I ever witnessed." + +"Ranulph," said Lady Rookwood, sternly, to her son, "beware how you +thwart me!" + +"Yes, Sir Ranulph, let me venture to advise you, as a friend, not to +thwart her ladyship," whispered the attorney; "indeed, she is in the +right." But seeing his advice unheeded, Coates withdrew to a little +distance. + +"I will not see injustice done to my father's son," replied Ranulph, in +a low tone. "Why would you detain him?" + +"Why?" returned she, "our safety demands it--our honor." + +"Our honor demands his instant liberation; each moment he remains in +those bonds sullies its purity. I will free him myself from his +fetters." + +"And brave my curse, foolish boy? You incurred your miserable father's +anathema for a lighter cause than this. Our honor cries aloud for his +destruction. Have I not been injured in the nicest point a woman can be +injured? Shall I lend my name to mockery and scorn, by base +acknowledgment of such deceit, or will you? Where would be my honor, +then, stripped of my fair estates--my son--myself--beggars--dependent on +the bounty of an upstart? Does honor ask you to bear this? It is a +phantom sense of honor, unsubstantial as your father's shade, of which +you just now spoke, that would prompt you to do otherwise." + +"Do not evoke his awful spirit, mother," cried Ranulph, with a shudder; +"do not arouse his wrath." + +"Do not arouse _my_ wrath," returned Lady Rookwood. "I am the more to be +feared. Think of Eleanor Mowbray; the bar between your nuptials is +removed. Would you raise up a greater impediment?" + +"Enough, mother; more than enough. You have decided, though not +convinced me. Detain him within the house, if you will, until the +morrow; in the meantime, I will consider over my line of conduct." + +"Is this, then, your resolve?" + +"It is. Mr. Coates," said Ranulph, calling the attorney, who had been an +inquisitive spectator, though, luckily, not an auditor of this +interview, "unbind the prisoner, and bring him hither." + +"Is it your ladyship's pleasure?" asked Mr. Coates, who regretted +exceedingly that he could not please both parties. + +Lady Rookwood signified her assent by a slight gesture in the +affirmative. + +"Your bidding shall be done, Sir Ranulph," said Coates, bowing and +departing. + +"_Sir_ Ranulph!" echoed Lady Rookwood, with strong emphasis; "marked you +that?" + +"Body o' me," muttered the attorney, "this is the most extraordinary +family, to be sure. Make way, gentlemen, if you please," added he, +pushing through the crowd, towards the prisoner. + +Having described what took place between Lady Rookwood and her son in +one part of the room, we must now briefly narrate some incidental +occurrences in the other. The alarm of a robber having been taken spread +with great celerity through the house, and almost all its inmates rushed +into the room, including Dr. Small, Titus Tyrconnel, and Jack Palmer. + +"Odsbodikins! are you there, honey?" said Titus, who discovered his +ally; "the bird's caught, you see." + +"Caught be d--d," replied Jack, bluffly; "so I see; all his own fault; +infernal folly to come here, at such a time as this. However, it can't +be helped now; he must make the best of it. And as to that sneaking, +gimlet-eyed, parchment-skinned quill-driver, if I don't serve him out +for his officiousness one of these days, my name's not Jack Palmer." + +"Och! cushlamacree! did I ever? why, what's the boy to you, Jack? Fair +play's a jewel, and surely Mr. Coates only did his duty. I'm sorry he's +captured, for his relationship to Sir Piers, and because I think he'll +be tucked up for his pains; and, moreover, I could forgive the poaching; +but as to the breaking into a house on such an occasion as this, och! +It's a plaguy bad look. I'm afraid he's worse than I thought him." + +A group of the tenantry, many of whom were in a state of intoxication, +had, in the meantime, formed themselves round the prisoner. Whatever +might be the nature of his thoughts, no apprehension was visible in +Luke's countenance. He stood erect amidst the assemblage, his tall form +towering above them all, and his eyes fixed upon the movements of Lady +Rookwood and her son. He had perceived the anguish of the latter, and +the vehemence of the former, attributing both to their real causes. The +taunts and jeers, threats and insolent inquiries, of the hinds who +thronged around him, passed unheeded; yet one voice in his ear, sharp as +the sting of a serpent, made him start. It was that of the sexton. + +"You have done well," said Peter, "have you not? Your fetters are, I +hope, to your liking. Well! a wilful man must have his own way, and +perhaps the next time you will be content to follow my advice. You must +now free yourself, the best way you can, from these Moabites, and I +promise you it will be no easy matter. Ha, ha!" + +Peter withdrew into the crowd; and Luke, vainly endeavoring to discover +his retreating figure, caught the eye of Jack Palmer fixed upon himself, +with a peculiar and very significant expression. + +At this moment Mr. Coates made his appearance. + +"Bring forward the prisoner," said the man of law to his two assistants; +and Luke was accordingly hurried along, Mr. Coates using his best +efforts to keep back the crowd. It was during the pressure that Luke +heard a voice whisper in his ear, "Never fear; all's right!" and turning +his head, he became aware of the propinquity of Jack Palmer. The latter +elevated his eyebrows with a gesture of silence, and Luke passed on as +if nothing had occurred. He was presently confronted with Lady Rookwood +and her son; and, notwithstanding the efforts of Mr. Coates, seconded by +some few others, the crowd grew dense around them. + +"Remove his fetters," said Ranulph. And his manacles were removed. + +"You will consent to remain here a prisoner till to-morrow?" + +"I consent to nothing," replied Luke; "I am in your hands." + +"He does not deserve your clemency, Sir Ranulph," interposed Coates. + +"Let him take his own course," said Lady Rookwood; "he will reap the +benefit of it anon." + +"Will you pledge yourself not to depart?" asked Ranulph. + +"Of course," cried the attorney; "to be sure he will. Ha, ha!" + +"No," returned Luke, haughtily, "I will not--and you will detain me at +your proper peril." + +"Better and better," exclaimed the attorney. "This is the highest joke I +ever heard." + +"I shall detain, you, then, in custody, until proper inquiries can be +made," said Ranulph. "To your care, Mr. Coates, and to that of Mr. +Tyrconnel, whom I must request to lend you his assistance, I commit the +charge; and I must further request, that you will show him every +attention which his situation will permit. Remove him. We have a sacred +duty to the dead to fulfil, to which even justice to the living must +give way. Disperse this crowd, and let instant preparations be made for +the completion of the ceremonial. You understand me, sir." + +"Ranulph Rookwood," said Luke, sternly, as he departed, "you have +another--a more sacred office to perform. Fulfil your duty to your +father's son." + +"Away with him!" cried Lady Rookwood. "I am out of all patience with +this trilling. Follow me to my chamber," added she to her son, passing +towards the door. The concourse of spectators, who had listened to this +extraordinary scene in astonishment, made way for her instantly, and she +left the room, accompanied by Ranulph. The prisoner was led out by the +other door. + +"Botheration!" cried Titus to Mr. Coates, as they followed in the wake, +"why did he choose out me? I'll lose the funeral entirely by his +arrangement." + +"That you will," replied Palmer. "Shall I be your deputy?" + +"No, no," returned Coates. "I will have no other than Mr. Tyrconnel. It +was Sir Ranulph's express wish." + +"That's the devil of it," returned Titus; "and I, who was to have been +chief mourner, and have made all the preparations, am to be omitted. I +wish Sir Ranulph had stayed till to-morrow--what could bring him here, +to spoil all?--it's cursedly provoking!" + +"Cursed provoking!" echoed Jack. + +"But then there's no help, so I must make the best of it," returned the +good-humored Irishman. + +"Body o' me," said Coates, "there's something in all this that I can't +fathom. As to keeping the prisoner _here_, that's all moonshine. But I +suppose we shall know the whole drift of it to-morrow." + +"Ay," replied Jack, with a meaning smile, "to-morrow!" + + + + +_BOOK II_ + + +_THE SEXTON_ + + _Duchess._ Thou art very plain. + + _Bosola._ My trade is to flatter the dead--not the living--I am a + tomb-maker. + + WEBSTER. + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_THE STORM_ + + Come, list, and hark! the bell doth towle, + For some but now departing sowle; + And was not that some ominous fowle? + The bat, the night-crow, or screech-owle? + To these I hear the wild wolf howle, + In this dark night that seems to scowle;-- + All these my blacke-booke shall enrowle, + For hark! still hark! the bell doth towle + For some but new-departed sowle! + + HAYWOOD: _Rape of Lucrece_. + + +The night was wild and stormy. The day had been sultry, with a lurid, +metallic-looking sky, hanging like a vast galvanic plate over the face +of nature. As evening drew on, everything betokened the coming tempest. +Unerring indications of its approach were noted by the weatherwise at +the hall. The swallow was seen to skim the surface of the pool so +closely that he ruffled its placid mirror as he passed; and then, +sharply darting round and round, with twittering scream, he winged his +rapid flight to his clay-built home, beneath the barn eaves. The kine +that had herded to the margin of the water, and sought, by splashing, to +relieve themselves from the keen persecution of their myriad insect +tormentors, wended stallwards, undriven, and deeply lowing. The deer, +that at twilight had trooped thither also for refreshment, suddenly, +"with expanded nostrils, snuffed the air," and bounded off to their +coverts, amidst the sheltering fernbrake. The rooks "obstreperous of +wing, in crowds combined," cawed in a way that, as plainly as words +could have done, bespoke their apprehension; and were seen, some +hovering and beating the air with flapping pinion, others shooting +upwards in mid space, as if to reconnoitre the weather; while others, +again, were croaking to their mates, in loud discordant tone, from the +highest branches of the lime-trees; all, seemingly, as anxious and as +busy as mariners before a gale of wind. At sunset, the hazy vapors, +which had obscured the horizon throughout the day, rose up in spiral +volumes, like smoke from a burning forest, and, becoming gradually +condensed, assumed the form of huge, billowy masses, which, reflecting +the sun's light, changed, as the sinking orb declined, from purple to +flame-color, and thence to ashy, angry gray. Night rushed onwards, like +a sable steed. There was a dead calm. The stillness was undisturbed, +save by an intermittent, sighing wind, which, hollow as a murmur from +the grave, died as it rose. At once the gray clouds turned to an inky +blackness. A single, sharp, intensely vivid flash, shot from the bosom +of the rack, sheer downwards, and struck the earth with a report like +that of a piece of ordnance. In ten minutes it was dunnest night, and a +rattling thunder-storm. + +The progress of the storm was watched with infinite apprehension by the +crowd of tenantry assembled in the great hall; and loud and frequent +were the ejaculations uttered, as each succeeding peal burst over their +heads. There was, however, one amongst the assemblage who seemed to +enjoy the uproar. A kindred excitement appeared to blaze in his glances, +as he looked upon the storm without. This was Peter Bradley. He stood +close by the window, and shaded not his eyes, even before the fiercest +flashes. A grin of unnatural exhilaration played upon his features, and +he seemed to exult in, and to court, the tempestuous horrors, which +affected the most hardy amongst his companions with consternation, and +made all shrink, trembling, into the recesses of the room. Peter's +conduct was not unobserved, nor his reputation for unholy dealing +forgotten. To some he was almost as much an object of dread as the storm +itself. + +"Didst ever see the like o' that?" said Farmer Burtenshaw--one of the +guests, whose round, honest face good wine had recently empurpled, but +fear had now mottled white,--addressing a neighbor. "Didst ever hear of +any man that were a Christian laughing in the very face o' a +thunder-storm, with the lightnin' fit to put out his eyes, and the +rattle above ready to break the drums o' his ears? I always thought +Peter Bradley was not exactly what he ought to be, and now I am sure on +it." + +"For my part, I think, Neighbor Burtenshaw," returned the other, "that +this great burst of weather's all of his raising, for in all my born +days I never see'd such a hurly-burly, and hope never to see the like of +it again. I've heard my grandfather tell of folk as could command wind +and rain; and, mayhap, Peter may have the power--we all know he can do +more nor any other man." + +"We know, at all events," replied Burtenshaw, "that he lives like no +other man; that he spends night after night by himself in that dreary +churchyard; that he keeps no living thing, except an old terrier dog, in +his crazy cottage; and that he never asks a body into his house from one +year's end to another. I've never crossed his threshold these twenty +years. But," continued he mysteriously, "I happened to pass the house +one dark, dismal night, and there what dost think I see'd through the +window?" + +"What--what didst see?" + +"Peter Bradley sitting with a great book open on his knees; it were a +Bible, I think, and he crying like a child." + +"Art sure o' that?" + +"The tears were falling fast upon the leaves," returned Burtenshaw; "but +when I knocked at the door, he hastily shut up the book, and ordered me +to be gone, in a surly tone, as if he were ashamed of being caught in +the fact." + +"I thought no tear had ever dropped from his eye," said the other. "Why, +he laughed when his daughter Susan went off at the hall; and, when she +died, folks said he received hush-money to say nought about it. _That_ +were a bad business, anyhow; and now that his grandson Luke be taken in +the fact of housebreaking, he minds it no more, not he, than if nothing +had happened." + +"Don't be too sure of that," replied Burtenshaw; "he may be scheming +summat all this time. Well, I've known Peter Bradley now these +two-and-fifty years, and, excepting that one night, I never saw any good +about him, and never heard of nobody who could tell who he be, or where +he do come from." + +"One thing's certain, at least," replied the other farmer--"he were +never born at Rookwood. How he came here the devil only knows. Save us! +what a crash!--this storm be all of his raising, I tell 'ee." + +"He be--what he certainly will be," interposed another speaker, in a +louder tone, and with less of apprehension in his manner than his +comrade, probably from his nerves being better fortified with strong +liquor. "Dost thou think, Samuel Plant, as how Providence would entrust +the like o' him with the command of the elements? No--no, it's rank +blasphemy to suppose such a thing, and I've too much of the true +Catholic and apostate church about me, to stand by and hear that said." + +"Maybe, then, he gets his power from the Prince of Darkness," replied +Plant; "no man else could go on as he does--only look at him. He seems +to be watching for the thunderbowt." + +"I wish he may catch it, then," returned the other. + +"That's an evil wish, Simon Toft, and thou mayst repent it." + +"Not I," replied Toft; "it would be a good clearance to the neighborhood +to get rid o' th' old croaking curmudgeon." + +Whether or not Peter overheard the conversation, we pretend not to say, +but at that moment a blaze of lightning showed him staring fiercely at +the group. + +"As I live, he's overheard you, Simon," exclaimed Plant. "I wouldn't be +in your skin for a trifle." + +"Nor I," added Burtenshaw. + +"Let him overhear me," answered Toft; "who cares? he shall hear summat +worth listening to. I'm not afraid o' him or his arts, were they as +black as Beelzebuth's own; and to show you I'm not, I'll go and have a +crack with him on the spot." + +"Thou'rt a fool for thy pains, if thou dost, Friend Toft," returned +Plant, "that's all I can say." + +"Be advised by me, and stay here," seconded Burtenshaw, endeavoring to +hold him back. + +But Toft would not be advised-- + + Kings may be blest, but he was glorious, + O'er all the ills of life victorious. + +Staggering up to Peter, he laid a hard grasp upon his shoulder, and, +thus forcibly soliciting his attention, burst into a loud horse-laugh. + +But Peter was, or affected to be, too much occupied to look at him. + +"What dost see, man, that thou starest so?" + +"It comes, it comes--the rain--the rain--a torrent--a deluge--ha, ha! +Blessed is the corpse the rain rains on. Sir Piers may be drenched +through his leaden covering by such a downfall as that--splash, +splash--fire and water and thunder, all together--is not that fine?--ha, +ha! The heavens will weep for him, though friends shed not a tear. When +did a great man's heir feel sympathy for his sire's decease? When did +his widow mourn? When doth any man regret his fellow? Never! He +rejoiceth--he maketh glad in his inmost heart--he cannot help it--it is +nature. We all pray for--we all delight in each other's destruction. We +were created to do so; or why else should we act thus? I never wept for +any man's death, but I have often laughed. Natural sympathy!--out on the +phrase! The distant heavens--the senseless trees--the impenetrable +stones--shall regret you more than man shall bewail your death with more +sincerity. Ay, 'tis well--rain on--splash, splash: it will cool the +hell-fever. Down, down--buckets and pails, ha, ha!" + +There was a pause, during which the sexton, almost exhausted by the +frenzy in which he had suffered himself to be involved, seemed +insensible to all around him. + +"I tell you what," said Burtenshaw to Plant, "I have always thought +there was more in Peter Bradley nor appears on the outside. He is not +what he seems to be, take my word on it. Lord love you! do you think a +man such as he pretends to be could talk in that sort of way--about +nat'ral simpering?--no such thing." + +When Peter recovered, his insane merriment broke out afresh, having only +acquired fury by the pause. + +"Look out, look out!" cried he; "hark to the thunder--list to the rain! +Marked ye that flash--marked ye the clock-house--and the bird upon the +roof? 'tis the rook--the great bird of the house, that hath borne away +the soul of the departed. There, there--can you not see it? it sits and +croaks through storm and rain, and never heeds at all--and wherefore +should it heed? See, it flaps its broad black wings--it croaks--ha, ha! +It comes--it comes." + +And driven, it might be by the terror of the storm, from more secure +quarters, a bird, at this instant, was dashed against the window, and +fell to the ground. + +"That's a call," continued Peter; "it will be over soon, and we must set +out. The dead will not need to tarry. Look at that trail of fire along +the avenue; dost see yon line of sparkles, like a rocket's tail? That's +the path the corpse will take. St. Hermes's flickering fire, Robin +Goodfellow's dancing light, or the blue flame of the corpse-candle, +which I saw flitting to the churchyard last week, was not so pretty a +sight--ha, ha! You asked me for a song a moment ago--you shall have one +now without asking." + +And without waiting to consult the inclinations of his comrades, Peter +broke into the following wild strain with all the fervor of a +half-crazed improvisatore: + + THE CORPSE-CANDLE + + Lambere flamma {taphos} et circum funera pasci. + + Through the midnight gloom did a pale blue light + To the churchyard mirk wing its lonesome flight:-- + Thrice it floated those old walls round-- + Thrice it paused--till the grave it found. + Over the grass-green sod it glanced, + Over the fresh-turned earth it danced, + Like a torch in the night-breeze quivering-- + Never was seen so gay a thing! + Never was seen so blithe a sight + As the midnight dance of that blue light! + + Now what of that pale blue flame dost know? + Canst tell where it comes from, or where it will go? + Is it the soul, released from clay, + Over the earth that takes its way, + And tarries a moment in mirth and glee + Where the corse it hath quitted interred shall be? + Or is it the trick of some fanciful sprite, + That taketh in mortal mischance delight, + And marketh the road the coffin shall go, + And the spot where the dead shall be soon laid low? + Ask him who can answer these questions aright; + I know not the cause of that pale blue light! + +"I can't say I like thy song, Master Peter," said Toft, as the sexton +finished his stave, "but if thou _didst_ see a corpse-candle, as thou +call'st thy pale blue flame, whose death doth it betoken?--eh!" + +"Thine own," returned Peter, sharply. + +"Mine! thou lying old cheat--dost dare to say that to my face? Why, I'm +as hale and hearty as ever a man in the house. Dost think there's no +life and vigor in this arm, thou drivelling old dotard?" + +Upon which, Toft seized Peter by the throat with an energy that, but for +the timely intervention of the company, who rushed to his assistance, +the prophet might himself have anticipated the doom he prognosticated. + +Released from the grasp of Toft, who was held back by the bystanders, +Peter again broke forth into his eldritch laugh; and staring right into +the face of his adversary, with eyes glistening, and hands uplifted, as +if in the act of calling down an imprecation on his head, he screamed, +in a shrill and discordant voice, "Soh! you will not take my warning? +you revile me--you flout me! 'Tis well! your fate shall prove a warning +to all unbelievers--_they_ shall remember this night, though _you_ will +not. Fool! fool!--your doom has long been sealed! I saw your wraith +choose out its last lodgment on Halloween; I know the spot. Your grave +is dug already--ha, ha!" And, with renewed laughter, Peter rushed out of +the room. + +"Did I not caution thee not to provoke him, friend Toft?" said Plant; +"it's ill playing with edge-tools; but don't let him fly off in that +tantrum--one of ye go after him." + +"That will I," replied Burtenshaw; and he departed in search of the +sexton. + +"I'd advise thee to make it up with Peter so soon as thou canst, +neighbor," continued Plant; "he's a bad friend, but a worse enemy." + +"Why, what harm can he do me?" returned Toft, who, however, was not +without some misgivings. "If I must die, I can't help it--I shall go +none the sooner for him, even if he speak the truth, which I don't think +he do; and if I must, I sha'n't go unprepared--only I think as how, if +it pleased Providence, I could have wished to keep my old missus company +some few years longer, and see those bits of lasses of mine grow up +into women, and respectably provided for. But His will be done. I +sha'n't leave 'em quite penniless, and there's one eye at least, I'm +sure, won't be dry at my departure." Here the stout heart of Toft gave +way, and he shed some few "natural tears," which, however, he speedily +brushed away. "I'll tell you what, neighbors," continued he, "I think we +may all as well be thinking of going to our own homes, for, to my mind, +we shall never reach the churchyard to-night." + +"That _you_ never will," exclaimed a voice behind him; and Toft, turning +round, again met the glance of Peter. + +"Come, come, Master Peter," cried the good-natured farmer, "this be ugly +jesting--ax pardon for my share of it--sorry for what I did--so give us +thy hand, man, and think no more about it." + +Peter extended his claw, and the parties were, apparently, once more +upon terms of friendship. + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_THE FUNERAL ORATION_ + + In northern customs duty was exprest + To friends departed by their funeral feast; + Though I've consulted Hollingshed and Stow, + I find it very difficult to know, + Who, to refresh the attendants to the grave, + Burnt claret first, or Naples' biscuit gave. + + KING: _Art of Cookery_. + + Ceterum priusquam corpus humo inject contegatur, defunctus oratione + funebri laudabatur.--DURAND. + + +A supply of spirits was here introduced; lights were brought at the same +time, and placed upon a long oak table. The party gathering round it, +ill-humor was speedily dissipated, and even the storm disregarded, in +the copious libations that ensued. At this juncture, a loiterer appeared +in the hall. His movements were unnoticed by all excepting the sexton, +who watched his proceedings with some curiosity. The person walked to +the window, appearing, so far as could be discovered, to eye the storm +with great impatience. He then paced the hall rapidly backwards and +forwards, and Peter fancied he could detect sounds of disappointment in +his muttered exclamations. Again he returned to the window, as if to +ascertain the probable duration of the shower. It was a hopeless +endeavor; all was pitch-dark without; the lightning was now only seen at +long intervals, but the rain still audibly descended in torrents. +Apparently seeing the impossibility of controlling the elements, the +person approached the table. + +"What think you of the night, Mr. Palmer?" asked the sexton of Jack, for +he was the anxious investigator of the weather. + +"Don't know--can't say--set in, I think--cursed unlucky--for the +funeral, I mean--we shall be drowned if we go." + +"And drunk if we stay," rejoined Peter. "But never fear, it will hold +up, depend upon it, long before we can start. Where have they put the +prisoner?" asked he, with a sudden change of manner. + +"I know the room, but can't describe it; it's two or three doors down +the lower corridor of the eastern gallery." + +"Good. Who are on guard?" + +"Titus Tyrconnel and that swivel-eyed quill-driver, Coates." + +"Enough." + +"Come, come, Master Peter," roared Toft, "let's have another stave. Give +us one of your odd snatches. No more corpse-candles, or that sort of +thing. Something lively--something jolly--ha, ha!" + +"A good move," shouted Jack. "A lively song from _you_--lillibullero +from a death's-head--ha, ha!" + +"My songs are all of a sort," returned Peter; "I am seldom asked to +sing a second time. However, you are welcome to the merriest I have." +And preparing himself, like certain other accomplished vocalists, with a +few preliminary hems and haws, he struck forth the following doleful +ditty: + + THE OLD OAK COFFIN + + Sic ego componi versus in ossa velim.--TIBULLUS. + + In a churchyard, upon the sward, a coffin there was laid, + And leaning stood, beside the wood, a sexton on his spade. + A coffin old and black it was, and fashioned curiously, + With quaint device of carved oak, in hideous fantasie. + + For here was wrought the sculptured thought of a tormented face, + With serpents lithe that round it writhe, in folded strict embrace. + Grim visages of grinning fiends were at each corner set, + And emblematic scrolls, mort-heads, and bones together met. + + "Ah, welladay!" that sexton gray unto himself did cry, + "Beneath that lid much lieth hid--much awful mysterie. + It is an ancient coffin from the abbey that stood here; + Perchance it holds an abbot's bones, perchance those of a frere. + + "In digging deep, where monks do sleep, beneath yon cloister shrined, + That coffin old, within the mould, it was my chance to find; + The costly carvings of the lid I scraped full carefully, + In hope to get at name or date, yet nothing could I see. + + "With pick and spade I've plied my trade for sixty years and more, + Yet never found, beneath the ground, shell strange as that before; + Full many coffins have I seen--have seen them deep or flat, + Fantastical in fashion--none fantastical as that." + + And saying so, with heavy blow, the lid he shattered wide, + And, pale with fright, a ghastly sight that sexton gray espied; + A miserable sight it was, that loathsome corpse to see, + The last, last, dreary, darksome stage of fall'n humanity. + + Though all was gone, save reeky bone, a green and grisly heap, + With scarce a trace of fleshly face, strange posture did it keep. + The hands were clenched, the teeth were wrenched, as if the wretch + had risen, + E'en after death had ta'en his breath, to strive and burst his prison. + + The neck was bent, the nails were rent, no limb or joint was straight; + Together glued, with blood imbued, black and coagulate. + And, as the sexton stooped him down to lift the coffin plank, + His fingers were defiled all o'er with slimy substance dank. + + "Ah, welladay!" that sexton gray unto himself did cry, + "Full well I see how Fate's decree foredoomed this wretch to die; + A living man, a breathing man, within the coffin thrust, + Alack! alack! the agony ere he returned to dust!" + + A vision drear did then appear unto that sexton's eyes; + Like that poor wight before him straight he in a coffin lies. + He lieth in a trance within that coffin close and fast; + Yet though he sleepeth now, he feels he shall awake at last. + + The coffin, then, by reverend men, is borne with footsteps slow, + Where tapers shine before the shrine, where breathes the requiem low; + And for the dead the prayer is said, for the soul that is _not_ flown-- + Then all is drowned in hollow sound, the earth is o'er him thrown! + + He draweth breath--he wakes from death to life more horrible; + To agony! such agony! no living tongue may tell. + Die! die he must, that wretched one! he struggles--strives in vain; + No more Heaven's light, nor sunshine bright, shall he behold again. + + "Gramercy, Lord!" the sexton roared, awakening suddenly, + "If this be dream, yet doth it seem most dreadful so to die. + Oh, cast my body in the sea! or hurl it on the shore! + But nail me not in coffin fast--no grave will I dig more." + +It was not difficult to discover the effect produced by this song, in +the lengthened faces of the greater part of the audience. Jack Palmer, +however, laughed loud and long. + +"Bravo, bravo!" cried he; "that suits my humor exactly. I can't abide +the thoughts of a coffin. No deal box for me." + +"A gibbet might, perhaps, serve your turn as well," muttered the sexton; +adding aloud, "I am now entitled to call upon you;--a song!--a song!" + +"Ay, a song, Mr. Palmer, a song!" reiterated the hinds. "Yours will be +the right kind of thing." + +"Say no more," replied Jack. "I'll give you a chant composed upon Dick +Turpin, the highwayman. It's no great shakes, to be sure, but it's the +best I have." And, with a knowing wink at the sexton, he commenced, in +the true nasal whine, the following strain: + + ONE FOOT IN THE STIRRUP + + OR TURPIN'S FIRST FLING + + Cum esset proposita fuga _Turpi_(n)_s_.--CICERO. + + "One foot in the stirrup, one hand in the rein, + And the noose be my portion, or freedom I'll gain! + Oh! give me a seat in my saddle once more, + And these bloodhounds shall find that the chase is not o'er!" + Thus muttered Dick Turpin, who found, while he slept, + That the Philistines old on his slumbers had crept; + Had entrapped him as puss on her form you'd ensnare, + And that gone were his snappers--and gone was his mare. + _Hilloah!_ + + How Dick had been captured is readily told, + The pursuit had been hot, though the night had been cold, + So at daybreak, exhausted, he sought brief repose + Mid the thick of a corn-field, away from his foes. + But in vain was his caution--in vain did his steed, + Ever watchful and wakeful in moments of need, + With lip and with hoof on her master's cheek press-- + He slept on, nor heeded the warning of Bess. + _Hilloah!_ + + "Zounds! gem'men!" cried Turpin, "you've found me at fault, + And the highflying highwayman's come to a halt; + You have turned up a trump--for I weigh well my weight,-- + And the _forty is yours_, though the halter's _my_ fate. + Well, come on't what will, you shall own when all's past, + That Dick Turpin, the Dauntless, was game to the last. + But, before we go further, I'll hold you a bet, + That one foot in my stirrup you won't let me set. + _Hilloah!_ + + "A hundred to one is the odds _I_ will stand, + A hundred to one is the odds _you_ command; + Here's a handful of goldfinches ready to fly! + May I venture a foot in my stirrup to try?" + As he carelessly spoke, Dick directed a glance + At his courser, and motioned her slyly askance:-- + You might tell by the singular toss of her head, + And the prick of her ears, that his meaning she read. + _Hilloah!_ + + With derision at first was Dick's wager received, + And his error at starting as yet unretrieved; + But when from his pocket the shiners he drew, + And offered to "make up the hundred to two," + There were havers in plenty, and each whispered each, + The same thing, though varied in figure of speech, + "Let the fool act his folly--the stirrup of Bess! + He has put his foot _in it_ already, we guess!" + _Hilloah!_ + + Bess was brought to her master--Dick steadfastly gazed + At the eye of his mare, then his foot quick upraised; + His toe touched the stirrup, his hand grasped the rein-- + He was safe on the back of his courser again! + As the clarion, fray-sounding and shrill, was the neigh + Of Black Bess, as she answered his cry "Hark-away!" + "Beset me, ye bloodhounds! in rear and in van; + My foot's in the stirrup and catch me who can!" + _Hilloah!_ + + There was riding and gibing mid rabble and rout, + And the old woods re-echoed the Philistines' shout! + There was hurling and whirling o'er brake and o'er brier, + But the course of Dick Turpin was swift as Heaven's fire. + Whipping, spurring, and straining would nothing avail, + Dick laughed at their curses, and scoffed at their wail; + "My foot's in the stirrup!"--thus rang his last cry; + "Bess has answered my call; now her mettle we'll try!" + _Hilloah!_ + +Uproarious applause followed Jack's song, when the joviality of the +mourners was interrupted by a summons to attend in the state-room. +Silence was at once completely restored; and, in the best order they +could assume, they followed their leader, Peter Bradley. Jack Palmer +was amongst the last to enter, and remained a not incurious spectator of +a by no means common scene. + +Preparations had been made to give due solemnity to the ceremonial. The +leaden coffin was fastened down, and enclosed in an outer case of oak, +upon the lid of which stood a richly-chased massive silver flagon, +filled with burnt claret, called the grace-cup. All the lights were +removed, save two lofty wax flambeaux, which were placed to the back, +and threw a lurid glare upon the group immediately about the body, +consisting of Ranulph Rookwood and some other friends of the deceased. +Dr. Small stood in front of the bier; and, under the directions of Peter +Bradley, the tenantry and household were formed into a wide half-moon +across the chamber. There was a hush of expectation, as Dr. Small looked +gravely round; and even Jack Palmer, who was as little likely as any man +to yield to an impression of the kind, felt himself moved by the scene. + +The very orthodox Small, as is well known to our readers, held +everything savoring of the superstitions of the Scarlet Woman in supreme +abomination; and, entertaining such opinions, it can scarcely be +supposed that a funeral oration would find much favor in his eyes, +accompanied, as it was, with the accessories of censer, candle, and cup; +all evidently derived from that period when, under the three-crowned +pontiff's sway, the shaven priest pronounced his benediction o'er the +dead, and released the penitent's soul from purgatorial flames, while he +heavily mulcted the price of his redemption from the possessions of his +successor. Small resented the idea of treading in such steps, as an +insult to himself and his cloth. Was he, the intolerant of Papistry, to +tolerate this? Was he, who could not endure the odor of Catholicism, to +have his nostrils thus polluted--his garments thus defiled by actual +contact with it? It was not to be thought of: and he had formally +signified his declination to Mr. Coates, when a little conversation with +that gentleman, and certain weighty considerations therein held +forth--the advowson of the church of Rookwood residing with the +family--and represented by him, as well as the placing in juxtaposition +of penalties to be incurred by refusal, that the scruples of Small gave +way; and, with the best grace he could muster, very reluctantly promised +compliance. + +With these feelings, it will be readily conceived that the doctor was +not in the best possible frame of mind for the delivery of his +exhortation. His spirit had been ruffled by a variety of petty +annoyances, amongst the greatest of which was the condition to which the +good cheer had reduced his clerk, Zachariah Trundletext, whose reeling +eye, pendulous position, and open mouth proclaimed him absolutely +incapable of office. Zachariah was, in consequence, dismissed, and Small +commenced his discourse unsupported. But as our recording it would not +probably conduce to the amusement of our readers, whatever it might to +their edification, we shall pass it over with very brief mention. +Suffice it to say, that the oration was so thickly interstrewn with +lengthy quotations from the fathers,--Chrysostomus, Hieronymus, +Ambrosius, Basilius, Bernardus, and the rest, with whose recondite +Latinity, notwithstanding the clashing of their opinions with his own, +the doctor was intimately acquainted, and which he moreover delighted to +quote,--that his auditors were absolutely mystified and perplexed, and +probably not without design. Countenances of such amazement were turned +towards him, that Small, who had a keen sense of the ludicrous, could +scarcely forbear smiling as he proceeded; and if we could suspect so +grave a personage of waggery, we should almost think that, by way of +retaliation, he had palmed some abstruse, monkish epicedium upon his +astounded auditors. + +The oration concluded, biscuits and confectionery were, according to old +observance, handed to such of the tenantry as chose to partake of them. +The serving of the grace-cup, which ought to have formed part of the +duties of Zachariah, had he been capable of office, fell to the share +of the sexton. The bowl was kissed, first by Ranulph, with lips that +trembled with emotion, and afterward by his surrounding friends; but no +drop was tasted--a circumstance which did not escape Peter's +observation. Proceeding to the tenantry, the first in order happened to +be Farmer Toft. Peter presented the cup, and as Toft was about to drain +a deep draught of the wine, Peter whispered in his ear, "Take my advice +for once, Friend Toft, and don't let a bubble of the liquid pass your +lips. For every drop of the wine you drain, Sir Piers will have one sin +the less, and you a load the heavier on your conscience. Didst never +hear of sin-swallowing? For what else was this custom adopted? Seest +thou not the cup's brim hath not yet been moistened? Well, as you +will--ha, ha!" And the sexton passed onwards. + +His work being nearly completed, he looked around for Jack Palmer, whom +he had remarked during the oration, but could nowhere discover him. +Peter was about to place the flagon, now almost drained of its contents, +upon its former resting-place, when Small took it from his hands. + +"_In poculi fundo residuum non relinque_, admonisheth Pythagoras," said +he, returning the empty cup to the sexton. + +"My task here is ended," muttered Peter, "but not elsewhere. Foul +weather or fine, thunder or rain, I must to the church." + +Bequeathing his final instructions to certain of the household who were +to form part of the procession, in case it set out, he opened the hall +door, and, the pelting shower dashing heavily in his face, took his way +up the avenue, screaming, as he strode along, the following congenial +rhymes: + + EPHIALTES + + I ride alone--I ride by night + Through the moonless air on a courser white! + Over the dreaming earth I fly, + Here and there--at my fantasy! + My frame is withered, my visage old, + My locks are frore, and my bones ice cold. + The wolf will howl as I pass his lair, + The ban-dog moan, and the screech-owl stare. + For breath, at my coming, the sleeper strains, + And the freezing current forsakes his veins! + Vainly for pity the wretch may sue-- + Merciless Mara no prayers subdue! + _To his couch I flit-- + On his breast I sit! + Astride! astride! astride! + And one charm alone + --A hollow stone!--[23] + Can scare me from his side!_ + + A thousand antic shapes I take; + The stoutest heart at my touch will quake. + The miser dreams of a bag of gold, + Or a ponderous chest on his bosom rolled. + The drunkard groans 'neath a cask of wine; + The reveller swelts 'neath a weighty chine. + The recreant turns, by his foes assailed, + To flee!--but his feet to the ground are nailed. + The goatherd dreams of his mountain-tops, + And, dizzily reeling, downward drops. + + The murderer feels at his throat a knife, + And gasps, as his victim gasped, for life! + The thief recoils from the scorching brand; + The mariner drowns in sight of land! + Thus sinful man have I power to fray, + Torture, and rack, but not to slay! + But ever the couch of purity, + With shuddering glance, I hurry by. + _Then mount! away! + To horse! I say, + To horse! astride! astride! + The fire-drake shoots-- + The screech-owl hoots-- + As through the air I glide!_ + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_THE CHURCHYARD_ + + Methought I walked, about the mid of night, + Into a churchyard. + + WEBSTER: _The White Devil_. + + +Lights streamed through the chancel window as the sexton entered the +churchyard, darkly defining all the ramified tracery of the noble Gothic +arch, and illumining the gorgeous dyes of its richly-stained glass, +profusely decorated with the armorial bearings of the founder of the +fane, and the many alliances of his descendants. The sheen of their +blazonry gleamed bright in the darkness, as if to herald to his last +home another of the line whose achievements it displayed. Glowing +colorings, checkered like rainbow tints, were shed upon the broken +leaves of the adjoining yew-trees, and upon the rounded grassy tombs. + +Opening the gate, as he looked in that direction, Peter became aware of +a dark figure, enveloped in a large black cloak, and covered with a +slouched hat, standing at some distance, between the window and the +tree, and so intervening as to receive the full influence of the stream +of radiance which served to dilate its almost superhuman stature. The +sexton stopped. The figure remained stationary. There was something +singular both in the costume and situation of the person. Peter's +curiosity was speedily aroused, and, familiar with every inch of the +churchyard, he determined to take the nearest cut, and to ascertain to +whom the mysterious cloak and hat belonged. Making his way over the +undulating graves, and instinctively rounding the headstones that +intercepted his path, he quickly drew near the object of his inquiry. +From the moveless posture it maintained, the figure appeared to be +unconscious of Peter's approach. To his eyes it seemed to expand as he +advanced. He was now almost close upon it, when his progress was +arrested by a violent grasp laid on his shoulder. He started, and +uttered an exclamation of alarm. At this moment a vivid flash of +lightning illumined the whole churchyard, and Peter then thought he +beheld, at some distance from him, two other figures, bearing upon their +shoulders a huge chest, or, it might be, a coffin. The garb of these +figures, so far as it could be discerned through the drenching rain, was +fantastical in the extreme. The foremost seemed to have a long white +beard descending to his girdle. Little leisure, however, was allowed +Peter for observation. The vision no sooner met his glance than it +disappeared, and nothing was seen but the glimmering tombstones--nothing +heard but the whistling wind and the heavily-descending shower. He +rubbed his eyes. The muffled figure had vanished, and not a trace could +be discovered of the mysterious coffin-bearers, if such they were. + +"What have I seen?" mentally ejaculated Peter: "is this sorcery or +treachery, or both? No body-snatchers would visit this place on a night +like this, when the whole neighborhood is aroused. Can it be a vision I +have seen? Pshaw! shall I juggle myself as I deceive these hinds? It was +no bearded demon that I beheld, but the gipsy patrico, Balthazar. I knew +him at once. But what meant that muffled figure; and whose arm could it +have been that griped my shoulder? Ha! what if Lady Rookwood should have +given orders for the removal of Susan's body? No, no; that cannot be. +Besides, I have the keys of the vault; and there are hundreds now in the +church who would permit no such desecration. I am perplexed to think +what it can mean. But I will to the vault." Saying which, he hastened to +the church porch, and after wringing the wet from his clothes, as a +water-dog might shake the moisture from his curly hide, and doffing his +broad felt hat, he entered the holy edifice. The interior seemed one +blaze of light to the sexton, in his sudden transition from outer +darkness. Some few persons were assembled, probably such as were engaged +in the preparations; but there was one group which immediately caught +his attention. + +Near the communion-table stood three persons, habited in deep mourning, +apparently occupied in examining the various monumental carvings that +enriched the walls. Peter's office led him to that part of the church. +About to descend into the vaults, to make the last preparations for the +reception of the dead, with lantern in hand, keys, and a crowbar, he +approached the party. Little attention was paid to the sexton's +proceedings, till the harsh grating of the lock attracted their notice. + +Peter started as he beheld the face of one of the three, and relaxing +his hold upon the key, the strong bolt shot back in the lock. There was +a whisper amongst the party. A light step was heard advancing towards +him; and ere the sexton could sufficiently recover his surprise, or +force open the door, a female figure stood by his side. + +The keen, inquiring stare which Peter bestowed upon the countenance of +the young lady so much abashed her, that she hesitated in her purpose of +addressing him, and hastily retired. + +"She here!" muttered Peter; "nay, then, I must no longer withhold the +dreaded secret from Luke, or Ranulph may, indeed, wrest his possessions +from him." + +Reinforced by her companions, an elderly lady and a tall, handsome man, +whose bearing and deportment bespoke him to be a soldier, the fair +stranger again ventured towards Peter. + +"You are the sexton," said she, addressing him in a voice sweet and +musical. + +"I am," returned Peter. It was harmony succeeded by dissonance. + +"You, perhaps, can tell us, then," said the elderly lady, "whether the +funeral is likely to take place to-night? We thought it possible that +the storm might altogether prevent it." + +"The storm is over, as nearly as maybe," replied Peter. "The body will +soon be on its way. I am but now arrived from the hall." + +"Indeed!" exclaimed the lady. "None of the family will be present, I +suppose. Who is the chief mourner?" + +"Young Sir Ranulph," answered the sexton. "There will be more of the +family than were expected." + +"Is Sir Ranulph returned?" asked the young lady, with great agitation of +manner. "I thought he was abroad--that he was not expected. Are you sure +you are rightly informed?" + +"I parted with him at the hall not ten minutes since," replied Peter. +"He returned from France to-night most unexpectedly." + +"Oh, mother!" exclaimed the younger lady, "that this should be--that I +should meet him here. Why did we come?--let us depart." + +"Impossible!" replied her mother; "the storm forbids it. This man's +information is so strange, I scarce can credit it. Are you sure you have +asserted the truth?" said she, addressing Peter. + +"I am not accustomed to be doubted," answered he. "Other things as +strange have happened at the hall." + +"What mean you?" asked the gentleman, noticing this last remark. + +"You would not need to ask the question of me, had you been there, +amongst the other guests," retorted Peter. "Odd things, I tell you, have +been done there this night, and stranger things may occur before the +morning." + +"You are insolent, sirrah! I comprehend you not." + +"Enough! I can comprehend _you_," replied Peter, significantly; "I know +the count of the mourners invited to this ceremonial, and I am aware +that there are three too many." + +"Know you this saucy knave, mother?" + +"I cannot call him to mind, though I fancy I have seen him before." + +"My recollection serves me better, lady," interposed Peter. "I remember +one who was once the proud heiress of Rookwood--ay, proud and beautiful. +Then the house was filled with her gallant suitors. Swords were crossed +for her. Hearts bled for her. Yet she favored none, until one hapless +hour. Sir Reginald Rookwood _had_ a daughter; Sir Reginald _lost_ a +daughter. Ha!--I see I am right. Well, he is dead and buried; and +Reginald, his son, is dead likewise; and Piers is on his road hither; +and you are the last, as in the course of nature you might have been the +first. And, now that they are all gone, you do rightly to bury your +grievances with them." + +"Silence, sirrah!" exclaimed the gentleman, "or I will beat your brains +out with your own spade." + +"No; let him speak, Vavasour," said the lady, with an expression of +anguish--"he has awakened thoughts of other days." + +"I have done," said Peter, "and must to work. Will you descend with me, +madam, into the sepulchre of your ancestry? All your family lie +within--ay, and the Lady Eleanor, your mother, amongst the number." + +Mrs. Mowbray signified her assent, and the party prepared to follow him. + +The sexton held the lantern so as to throw its light upon the steps as +they entered the gloomy receptacle of the departed. Eleanor half +repented having ventured within its dreary limits, so much did the +appearance of the yawning catacombs, surcharged with mortality, and, +above all, the ghostly figure of the grim knight, affect her with dread, +as she looked wistfully around. She required all the support her +brother's arm could afford her; nor was Mrs. Mowbray altogether unmoved. + +"And all the family are here interred, you say?" inquired the latter. + +"All," replied the sexton. + +"Where, then, lies Sir Reginald's younger brother?" + +"Who?" exclaimed Peter, starting. + +"Alan Rookwood." + +"What of him?" + +"Nothing of moment. But I thought you could, perhaps, inform me. He died +young." + +"He did," replied Peter, in an altered tone--"very young; but not before +he had lived to an old age of wretchedness. Do you know his story, +madam?" + +"I have heard it." + +"From your father's lips?" + +"From Sir Reginald Rookwood's--never. Call him not my father, sirrah; +even _here_ I will not have him named so to me." + +"Your pardon, madam," returned the sexton. "Great cruelty was shown to +the Lady Eleanor, and may well call forth implacable resentment in her +child; yet methinks the wrong he did his brother Alan was the foulest +stain with which Sir Reginald's black soul was dyed." + +"With what particular wrong dost thou charge Sir Reginald?" demanded +Major Mowbray. "What injury did he inflict upon his brother Alan?" + +"He wronged his brother's honor," replied the sexton; "he robbed him of +his wife, poisoned his existence, and hurried him to an untimely grave." + +Eleanor shudderingly held back during this horrible narration, the +hearing of which she would willingly have shunned, had it been possible. + +"Can this be true?" asked the major. + +"Too true, my son," replied Mrs. Mowbray, sorrowfully. + +"And where lies the unfortunate Alan?" asked Major Mowbray. + +"'Twixt two cross roads. Where else should the suicide lie?" + +Evading any further question, Peter hastily traversed the vault, +elevating the light so as to reveal the contents of each cell. One +circumstance filled him with surprise and dismay--he could nowhere +perceive the coffin of his daughter. In vain he peered into every +catacomb--they were apparently undisturbed; and, with much internal +marvelling and misgiving, Peter gave up the search. "That vision is now +explained," muttered he; "the body is removed, but by whom? Death! can I +doubt? It must be Lady Rookwood--who else can have any interest in its +removal. She has acted boldly. But she shall yet have reason to repent +her temerity." As he continued his search, his companions silently +followed. Suddenly he stopped, and, signifying that all was finished, +they not unwillingly quitted this abode of horror, leaving him behind +them. + +"It is a dreadful place," whispered Eleanor to her mother; "nor would I +have visited it, had I conceived anything of its horrors. And that +strange man! who or what is he?" + +"Ay, who is he?" repeated Major Mowbray. + +"I recollect him now," replied Mrs. Mowbray; "he is one who has ever +been connected with the family. He had a daughter, whose beauty was her +ruin: it is a sad tale; I cannot tell it now: you have heard enough of +misery and guilt: but that may account for his bitterness of speech. He +was a dependent upon my poor brother." + +"Poor man!" replied Eleanor; "if he has been unfortunate, I pity him. I +am sorry we have been into that dreadful place. I am very faint: and I +tremble more than ever at the thought of meeting Ranulph Rookwood again. +I can scarcely support myself--I am sure I shall not venture to look +upon him." + +"Had I dreamed of the likelihood of his attending the ceremony, rest +assured, dear Eleanor, we should not have been here: but I was informed +there was no possibility of his return. Compose yourself, my child. It +will be a trying time to both of us; but it is now inevitable." + +At this moment the bell began to toll. "The procession has started," +said Peter, as he passed the Mowbrays. "That bell announces the setting +out." + +"See yonder persons hurrying to the door," exclaimed Eleanor, with +eagerness, and trembling violently. "They are coming. Oh! I shall never +be able to go through with it, dear mother." + +Peter hastened to the church door, where he stationed himself, in +company with a host of others, equally curious. Flickering lights in the +distance, shining like stars through the trees, showed them that the +procession was collecting in front of the hall. The rain had now +entirely ceased; the thunder muttered from afar, and the lightning +seemed only to lick the moisture from the trees. The bell continued to +toll, and its loud booming awoke the drowsy echoes of the valley. On the +sudden, a solitary, startling concussion of thunder was heard; and +presently a man rushed down from the belfry, with the tidings that he +had seen a ball of fire fall from a cloud right over the hall. Every ear +was on the alert for the next sound; none was heard. It was the crisis +of the storm. Still the funeral procession advanced not. The strong +sheen of the torchlight was still visible from the bottom of the avenue, +now disappearing, now brightly glimmering, as if the bearers were +hurrying to and fro amongst the trees. It was evident that much +confusion prevailed, and that some misadventure had occurred. Each man +muttered to his neighbor, and few were there who had not in a measure +surmised the cause of the delay. At this juncture, a person without his +hat, breathless with haste and almost palsied with fright, rushed +through the midst of them and, stumbling over the threshold, fell +headlong into the church. + +"What's the matter, Master Plant? What has happened? Tell us! Tell us!" +exclaimed several voices simultaneously. + +"Lord have mercy upon us!" cried Plant, gasping for utterance, and not +attempting to raise himself. "It's horrible! dreadful! oh!--oh!" + +"What has happened?" inquired Peter, approaching the fallen man. + +"And dost _thou_ need to ask, Peter Bradley? thou, who foretold it all? +but I will not say what I think, though my tongue itches to tell thee +the truth. Be satisfied, thy wizard's lore has served thee right--he is +dead." + +"Who? Ranulph Rookwood? Has anything befallen him, or the prisoner, Luke +Bradley?" asked the sexton, with eagerness. + +A scream here burst forth from one who was standing behind the group; +and, in spite of the efforts of her mother to withhold her, Eleanor +Mowbray rushed forward. + +"Has aught happened to Sir Ranulph?" asked she. + +"Noa--noa--not to Sir Ranulph--he be with the body." + +"Heaven be thanked for that!" exclaimed Eleanor. And then, as if ashamed +of her own vehemence, and, it might seem, apparent indifference to +another's fate, she inquired who was hurt. + +"It be poor neighbor Toft, that be killed by a thunderbolt, ma'am," +replied Plant. + +Exclamations of horror burst from all around. + +No one was more surprised at this intelligence than the sexton. Like +many other seers, he had not, in all probability, calculated upon the +fulfilment of his predictions, and he now stared aghast at the extent of +his own foreknowledge. + +"I tell 'ee what, Master Peter," said Plant, shaking his bullet-head, +"it be well for thee thou didn't live in my grandfather's time, or +thou'dst ha' been ducked in a blanket; or may be burnt at the stake, +like Ridley and Latimer, as we read on--but however that may be, ye +shall hear how poor Toft's death came to pass, and nobody can tell 'ee +better nor I, seeing I were near to him, poor fellow, at the time. Well, +we thought as how the storm were all over--and had all got into order of +march, and were just beginning to step up the avenue, the coffin-bearers +pushing lustily along, and the torches shining grandly, when poor Simon +Toft, who could never travel well in liquor in his life, reeled to one +side, and staggering against the first huge lime-tree, sat himself down +beneath it--thou knowest the tree I mean." + +"The tree of fate," returned Peter. "I ought, methinks, to know it." + +"Well, I were just stepping aside to pick him up, when all at once there +comes such a crack of thunder, and, whizzing through the trees, flashed +a great globe of red fire, so bright and dazzlin', it nearly blinded me; +and when I opened my eyes, winkin' and waterin', I see'd that which +blinded me more even than the flash--that which had just afore been poor +Simon, but which was now a mass o' black smouldering ashes, clean +consumed and destroyed--his clothes rent to a thousand tatters--the +earth and stones tossed up, and scattered all about, and a great +splinter of the tree lying beside him." + +"Heaven's will be done!" said the sexton; "this is an awful judgment." + +"And Sathan cast down; for this is a spice o' his handiwork," muttered +Plant; adding, as he slunk away, "If ever Peter Bradley do come to the +blanket, dang me if I don't lend a helpin' hand." + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_THE FUNERAL_ + + How like a silent stream, shaded by night, + And gliding softly with our windy sighs, + Moves the whole frame of this solemnity! + Tears, sighs, and blacks, filling the simile! + Whilst I, the only murmur in this grove + Of death, thus hollowly break forth. + + _The Fatal Dowry._ + + +Word being given that the funeral train was fast approaching, the church +door was thrown open, and the assemblage divided in two lines, to allow +it admission. + +Meanwhile, a striking change had taken place, even in this brief period, +in the appearance of the night. The sky, heretofore curtained with +darkness, was now illumined by a serene, soft moon, which, floating in a +watery halo, tinged with silvery radiance the edges of a few ghostly +clouds that hurried along the deep and starlit skies. The suddenness of +the change could not fail to excite surprise and admiration, mingled +with regret that the procession had not been delayed until the present +time. + +Slowly and mournfully the train was seen to approach the churchyard, +winding, two by two, with melancholy step, around the corner of the +road. First came Dr. Small; then the mutes, with their sable panoply; +next, the torch-bearers; next, those who sustained the coffin, bending +beneath their ponderous burden, followed by Sir Ranulph and a long line +of attendants, all plainly to be distinguished by the flashing +torchlight. There was a slight halt at the gate, and the coffin changed +supporters. + +"Ill luck betide them!" ejaculated Peter; "could they find no other +place except that to halt at? Must Sir Piers be gatekeeper till next +Yule! No," added he, seeing what followed; "it will be poor Toft, after +all." + +Following close upon the coffin came a rude shell, containing, as Peter +rightly conjectured, the miserable remains of Simon Toft, who had met +his fate in the manner described by Plant. The bolt of death glanced +from the tree which it first struck, and reduced the unfortunate farmer +to a heap of dust. Universal consternation prevailed, and doubts were +entertained as to what course should be pursued. It was judged best by +Dr. Small to remove the remains at once to the charnel-house. Thus +"unanointed, unaneled, with all his imperfections on his head," was poor +Simon Toft, in one brief second, in the twinkling of an eye, plunged +from the height of festivity to the darkness of the grave, and so +horribly disfigured, that scarce a vestige of humanity was discernible +in the mutilated mass that remained of him. Truly may we be said to walk +in blindness, and amidst deep pitfalls. + +The churchyard was thronged by the mournful train. The long array of +dusky figures--the waving torchlight gleaming ruddily in the white +moonshine--now glistening upon the sombre habiliments of the bearers, +and on their shrouded load, now reflected upon the jagged branches of +the yew-trees, or falling upon the ivied buttresses of the ancient +church, constituted no unimpressive picture. Over all, like a lamp hung +in the still sky, shone the moon, shedding a soothing, spiritual lustre +over the scene. + +The organ broke into a solemn strain as the coffin was borne along the +mid-aisle--the mourners following, with reverent step, and slow. It was +deposited near the mouth of the vault, the whole assemblage circling +around it. Dr. Small proceeded with the performance of that magnificent +service appointed for the burial of the dead, in a tone as remarkable +for its sadness as for its force and fervor. There was a tear in every +eye--a cloud on every brow. + +Brightly illumined as was the whole building, there were still some +recesses which, owing to the intervention of heavy pillars, were thrown +into shade; and in one of these, supported by her mother and brother, +stood Eleanor, a weeping witness of the scene. She beheld the coffin +silently borne along; she saw one dark figure slowly following; she knew +those pale features--oh, how pale they were! A year had wrought a +fearful alteration; she could scarce credit what she beheld. He must, +indeed, have suffered--deeply suffered; and her heart told her that his +sorrows had been for her. + +Many a wistful look, besides, was directed to the principal figure in +this ceremonial, Ranulph Rookwood. He was a prey to unutterable anguish +of soul; his heart bled inwardly for the father he had lost. +Mechanically following the body down the aisle, he had taken his station +near it, gazing with confused vision upon the bystanders; had listened, +with a sad composure, to the expressive delivery of Small, until he +read--"_For man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in +vain; he heapeth up riches, and cannot tell who shall gather them._" + +"Verily!" exclaimed a deep voice; and Ranulph, looking round, met the +eyes of Peter Bradley fixed full upon him. But it was evidently not the +sexton who had spoken. + +Small continued the service. He arrived at this verse: "_Thou hast set +our misdeeds before thee; and our secret sins in the light of thy +countenance._" + +"Even so!" exclaimed the voice; and as Ranulph raised his eyes in the +direction of the sound, he thought he saw a dark figure, muffled in a +cloak, disappear behind one of the pillars. He bestowed, however, at the +moment, little thought upon this incident. His heart melted within him; +and leaning his face upon his hand, he wept aloud. + +"Command yourself, I entreat of you, my dear Sir Ranulph," said Dr. +Small, as soon as the service was finished, "and suffer this melancholy +ceremonial to be completed." Saying which, he gently withdrew Ranulph +from his support, and the coffin was lowered into the vault. + +Ranulph remained for some time in the extremity of sorrow. When he in +part recovered, the crowd had dispersed, and few persons were remaining +within the church; yet near him stood three apparent loiterers. They +advanced towards him. An exclamation of surprise and joy burst from his +lips. + +"Eleanor!" + +"Ranulph!" + +"Is it possible? Do I indeed behold you, Eleanor?" + +No other word was spoken. They rushed into each other's arms. Oh! +sad--sad is the lover's parting--no pang so keen; but if life hath a +zest more exquisite than others--if felicity hath one drop more racy +than the rest in her honeyed cup, it is the happiness enjoyed in such a +union as the present. To say that he was as one raised from the depths +of misery by some angel comforter, were a feeble comparison of the +transport of Ranulph. To paint the thrilling delight of Eleanor--the +trembling tenderness--the fond abandonment which vanquished all her +maiden scruples, would be impossible. Reluctantly yielding--fearing, yet +complying, her lips were sealed in one long, loving kiss, the +sanctifying pledge of their tried affection. + +"Eleanor, dear Eleanor," exclaimed Ranulph, "though I hold you within my +arms--though each nerve within my frame assures me of your +presence--though I look into those eyes, which seem fraught with greater +endearment than ever I have known them wear--though I see and feel and +know all this, so sudden, so unlooked for is the happiness, that I could +almost doubt its reality. Say to what blessed circumstance I am indebted +for this unlooked-for happiness." + +"We are staying not far hence, with friends, dear Ranulph; and my +mother, hearing of Sir Piers Rookwood's death, and wishing to bury all +animosity with him, resolved to be present at the sad ceremony. We were +told you could not be here." + +"And would my presence have prevented your attendance, Eleanor?" + +"Not that, dear Ranulph; but----" + +"But what?" + +At this moment the advance of Mrs. Mowbray offered an interruption to +their further discourse. + +"My son and I appear to be secondary in your regards, Sir Ranulph," said +she, gravely. + +"_Sir_ Ranulph!" mentally echoed the young man. "What will _she_ think +when she knows that that title is not mine? I dread to tell her." He +then added aloud, with a melancholy smile, "I crave your pardon, madam; +the delight of a meeting so unexpected with your daughter must plead my +apology." + +"None is wanting, Sir Ranulph," said Major Mowbray. "I who have known +what separation from my sister is, can readily excuse your feelings. But +you look ill." + +"I have, indeed, experienced much mental anxiety," said Ranulph, looking +at Eleanor; "it is now past, and I would fain hope that a brighter day +is dawning." His heart answered, 'twas but a hope. + +"You were unlooked for here to-night, Sir Ranulph," said Mrs. Mowbray; +"by us, at least: we were told you were abroad." + +"You were rightly informed, madam," replied Ranulph. "I only arrived +this evening from Bordeaux." + +"I am glad you are returned. We are at present on a visit with your +neighbors, the Davenhams, at Braybrook, and trust we shall see you +there." + +"I will ride over to-morrow," replied Ranulph; "there is much on which I +would consult you all. I would have ventured to request the favor of +your company at Rookwood, had the occasion been other than the present." + +"And I would willingly have accepted your invitation," returned Mrs. +Mowbray; "I should like to see the old house once more. During your +father's lifetime I could not approach it. You are lord of broad lands, +Sir Ranulph--a goodly inheritance." + +"Madam!" + +"And a proud title, which you will grace well, I doubt not. The first, +the noblest of our house, was he from whom you derive your name. You are +the third Sir Ranulph; the first founded the house of Rookwood; the next +advanced it; 'tis for you to raise its glory to its height." + +"Alas! madam, I have no such thought." + +"Wherefore not? you are young, wealthy, powerful. With such domains as +those of Rookwood--with such a title as its lord can claim, naught +should be too high for your aspirations." + +"I aspire to nothing, madam, but your daughter's hand; and even that I +will not venture to solicit until you are acquainted with----" And he +hesitated. + +"With what?" asked Mrs. Mowbray, in surprise. + +"A singular, and to me most perplexing event has occurred to-night," +replied Ranulph, "which may materially affect my future fortunes." + +"Indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray. "Does it relate to your mother?" + +"Excuse my answering the question now, madam," replied Ranulph; "you +shall know all to-morrow." + +"Ay, to-morrow, dear Ranulph," said Eleanor; "and whatever that morrow +may bring forth, it will bring happiness to me, if you are bearer of the +tidings." + +"I shall expect your coming with impatience," said Mrs. Mowbray. + +"And I," added Major Mowbray, who had listened thus far in silence, +"would offer you my services in any way you think they would be useful. +Command me as you think fitting." + +"I thank you heartily," returned Ranulph. "To-morrow you shall learn +all. Meanwhile, it shall be my business to investigate the truth or +falsehood of the statement I have heard, ere I report it to you. Till +then, farewell." + +As they issued from the church it was gray dawn. Mrs. Mowbray's carriage +stood at the door. The party entered it; and accompanied by Dr. Small, +whom he found within in the vestry, Ranulph walked towards the hall, +where a fresh surprise awaited him. + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_THE CAPTIVE_ + + _Black Will._ Which is the place where we're to be concealed? + + _Green._ This inner room. + + _Black Will._ 'Tis well. The word is, "Now I take you." + + _Arden of Feversham._ + + +Guarded by the two young farmers who had displayed so much address in +seizing him, Luke, meanwhile, had been conveyed in safety to the small +chamber in the eastern wing, destined by Mr. Coates to be his place of +confinement for the night. The room, or rather closet, opening from +another room, was extremely well adapted for the purpose, having no +perceptible outlet; being defended, on either side, by thick partition +walls of the hardest oak, and at the extremity by the solid masonry of +the mansion. It was, in fact, a remnant of the building anterior to the +first Sir Ranulph's day; and the narrow limits of Luke's cell had been +erected long before the date of his earliest progenitor. Having seen +their prisoner safely bestowed, the room was carefully examined, every +board sounded, every crevice and corner peered into by the curious eye +of the little lawyer; and nothing being found insecure, the light was +removed, the door locked, the rustic constables dismissed, and a brace +of pistols having been loaded and laid on the table, Mr. Coates +pronounced himself thoroughly satisfied and quite comfortable. + +Comfortable! Titus heaved a sigh as he echoed the word. He felt anything +but comfortable. His heart was with the body all the while. He thought +of the splendor of the funeral, the torches, the illumined church, his +own dignified march down the aisle, and the effect he expected to +produce amongst the bewildered rustics. He thought of all these things, +and cursed Luke by all the saints in the calendar. The sight of the +musty old apartment, hung round with faded arras, which, as he said, +"smelt of nothing but rats and ghosts, and suchlike varmint," did not +serve to inspirit him; and the proper equilibrium of his temper was not +completely restored until the appearance of the butler, with all the +requisites for the manufacture of punch, afforded him some prospective +solace. + +"And what are they about now, Tim?" asked Titus. + +"All as jolly as can be," answered the domestic; "Dr. Small is just +about to pronounce the funeral 'ration." + +"Devil take it," ejaculated Titus, "there's another miss! Couldn't I +just slip out, and hear that?" + +"On no account," said Coates. "Consider, Sir Ranulph is there." + +"Well, well," rejoined Titus, heaving a deep sigh, and squeezing a +lemon; "are you sure this is _biling_ water, Tim? You know, I'm mighty +particular." + +"Perfectly aware of it, sir." + +"Ah, Tim, do you recollect the way I used to brew for poor Sir Piers, +with a bunch of red currants at the bottom of the glass? And then to +think that, after all, I should be left out of his funeral--it's the +height of barbarity. Tim, this rum of yours is poor stuff--there's no +punch worth the trouble of drinking, except whisky-punch. A glass of +right potheen, straw-color, peat-flavor, ten degrees over proof, would +be the only thing to drown my cares. Any such thing in the cellar? There +used to be an odd bottle or so, Tim--in the left bin, near the door." + +"I've a notion there be," returned Timothy. "I'll try the bin your +honor mentions, and if I can lay hands upon a bottle you shall have it, +you may depend." + +The butler departed, and Titus, emulating Mr. Coates, who had already +enveloped himself, like Juno at the approach of Ixion, in a cloud, +proceeded to light his pipe. + +Luke, meanwhile, had been left alone, without light. He had much to +meditate upon, and with naught to check the current of his thoughts, he +pensively revolved his present situation and future prospects. The +future was gloomy enough--the present fraught with danger. And now that +the fever of excitement was passed, he severely reproached himself for +his precipitancy. + +His mind, by degrees, assumed a more tranquil state; and, exhausted with +his great previous fatigue, he threw himself upon the floor of his +prison-house, and addressed himself to slumber. The noise he made +induced Coates to enter the room, which he did with a pistol in each +hand, followed by Titus with a pipe and candle; but finding all safe the +sentinels retired. + +"One may see, with half an eye, that you're not used to a feather-bed, +my friend," said Titus, as the door was locked. "By the powers, he's a +tall chap, anyhow--why his feet almost touch the door. I should say that +room was a matter of six feet long, Mr. Coates." + +"Exactly six feet, sir." + +"Well, that's a good guess. Hang that ugly rascal, Tim; he's never +brought the whisky. But I'll be even with him to-morrow. Couldn't you +just see to the prisoner for ten minutes, Mr. Coates?" + +"Not ten seconds. I shall report you, if you stir from your post." + +Here the door was opened, and Tim entered with the whisky. + +"Arrah! by my soul, Tim, and here you are at last--uncork it, man, and +give us a thimbleful--blob! there goes the stopper--here's a +glass"--smacking his lips--"whist, Tim, another drop--stuff like this +will never hurt a body. Mr. Coates, try it--no--I thought you'd be a man +of more taste." + +"I must limit you to a certain quantity," replied Coates, "or you will +not be fit to keep guard--another glass must be the extent of your +allowance." + +"Another glass! and do you think I'll submit to any such iniquitous +proposition?" + +"Beg pardon, gentlemen," said Tim, "but her ladyship desires me to tell +you both, that she trusts you will keep the strictest watch upon the +prisoner. I have the same message also from Sir Ranulph." + +"Do you hear that?" said Coates. + +"And what are they all about now, Tim?" groaned Titus. + +"Just starting, sir," returned Tim; "and, indeed, I must not lose my +time gossiping here, for I be wanted below. You must be pleased to take +care of yourselves, gentlemen, for an hour or so, for there will be only +a few women-kind left in the house. The storm's just over, and the men +are all lighting their torches. Oh, it's a grand sight!" And off set +Tim. + +"Bad luck to myself, anyhow," ejaculated Titus; "this is more than I can +bear--I've had enough of this watch and ward business--if the prisoner +stirs, shoot him, if you think proper--I'll be back in an hour." + +"I tell you what, Mr. Tyrconnel," said Coates, coolly taking up the +pistol from the table, "I'm a man of few words, but those few are, I +hope, to the purpose, and I'd have you to know if you stir from that +chair, or attempt to leave the room, damme but I'll send a brace of +bullets after you. I'm serious, I assure you." And he cocked the pistol. + +By way of reply to this menace, Titus deliberately filled a stiff glass +of whisky-and-water. + +"That's your last glass," said the inexorable Coates. + +To return once more to Luke. He slept uneasily for some short space, +and was awakened by a sound which reached his dreaming ears and +connected itself with the visions that slumber was weaving around him. +It was some moments before he could distinctly remember where he was. He +would not venture to sleep again, though he felt overwhelmed by +drowsiness--there was a fixed pain at his heart, as if circulation were +suspended. Changing his posture, he raised himself upon one arm; he then +became aware of a scratching noise, somewhat similar to the sound he had +heard in his dream, and perceived a light gleaming through a crevice in +the oaken partition. His attention was immediately arrested, and placing +his eye close to the chink, he distinctly saw a dark lantern burning, +and by its light a man filing some implement of housebreaking. The light +fell before the hard features of the man, with whose countenance Luke +was familiar; and although only one person came within the scope of his +view, Luke could make out, from a muttered conversation that was carried +on, that he had a companion. The parties were near to him, and though +speaking in a low tone, Luke's quick ear caught the following: + +"What keeps Jack Palmer, I wonder?" said he of the file. "We're all +ready for the fakement--pops primed--and I tell you what, Rob Rust, I've +made my clasp-knife as sharp as a razor, and damme, if Lady Rookwood +offers any resistance, I'll spoil her talking in future, I promise you." + +Suppressed laughter from Rust followed this speech. That laugh made +Luke's blood run cold within his veins. + +"Harkee, Dick Wilder, you're a reg'lar out-and-outer, and stops at +nothing, and curse me if I'd think any more of it than yourself. But +Jack's as squeamish of bloodshed as young Miss that cries at her cut +finger. It's the safer plan. Say what you will, nothing but _that_ will +stop a woman's tongue." + +"I shall make short work with her ladyship to-night, anyhow. Hist! here +Jack comes." + +A footstep crossed in the room, and, presently afterwards, exclamations +of surprise and smothered laughter were heard from the parties. + +"Bravo, Jack! famous! that disguise would deceive the devil himself." + +"And now, my lads," said the newcomer, "is all right?" + +"Right and tight." + +"Nothing forgotten?" + +"Nothing." + +"Then off with your stamps, and on with your list slippers; not a word. +Follow me, and, for your lives, don't move a step but as I direct you. +The word must be, '_Sir Piers Rookwood calls_.' We'll overhaul the swag +here. This crack may make us all for life; and if you'll follow my +directions implicitly, we'll do the trick in style. This slum must be +our rendezvous when all's over; for hark ye, my lads, I'll not budge an +inch till Luke Bradley be set free. He's an old friend, and I always +stick by old friends. I'd do the same for one of you if you were in the +same scrape, so, damn you, no flinching; besides, I owe that +spider-shanked, snivelling split-cause Coates, who stands sentry, a +grudge, and I'll pay him off, as Paul did the Ephesians. You may crop +his ears, or slit his tongue as you would a magpie's, or any other +chattering varmint; make him sign his own testament, or treat him with a +touch of your _Habeas Corpus_ Act, if you think proper, or give him a +taste of blue plumb. One thing only I stipulate, that you don't hurt +that fat, mutton-headed Broganeer, whatever he may say or do; he's a +devilish good fellow. And now to business." + +Saying which, they noiselessly departed. But carefully as the door was +closed, Luke's ear could detect the sound. His blood boiled with +indignation; and he experienced what all must have felt who have been +similarly situated, with the will, but not the power, to assist +another--a sensation almost approaching to torture. At this moment a +distant scream burst upon his ears--another--he hesitated no longer. +With all his force he thundered at the door. + +"What do you want, rascal?" cried Coates, from without. + +"There are robbers in the house." + +"Thank you for the information. There is one I know of already." + +"Fool, they are in Lady Rookwood's room. Run to her assistance." + +"A likely story, and leave you here." + +"Do you hear that scream?" + +"Eh, what--what's that? I do hear something." Here Luke dashed with all +his force against the door. It yielded to the blow, and he stood before +the astonished attorney. + +"Advance a footstep, villain," exclaimed Coates, presenting both his +pistols, "and I lodge a brace of balls in your head." + +"Listen to me," said Luke; "the robbers are in Lady Rookwood's +chamber--they will plunder the place of everything--perhaps murder her. +Fly to her assistance, I will accompany you--assist you--it is your only +chance." + +"_My_ only chance--_your_ only chance. Do you take me for a greenhorn? +This is a poor subterfuge; could you not have vamped up something +better? Get back to your own room, or I shall make no more of shooting +you than I would of snuffing that candle." + +"Be advised, sir," continued Luke. "There are three of them--give me a +pistol, and fear nothing." + +"Give _you_ a pistol! Ha, ha!--to be its mark myself. You are an amusing +rascal, I will say." + +"Sir, I tell you not a moment is to be lost. Is life nothing? Lady +Rookwood may be murdered." + +"I tell _you_, once for all, it won't do. Go back to your room, or take +the consequences." + +"By the powers! but it shall do, anyhow," exclaimed Titus, flinging +himself upon the attorney, and holding both his arms; "you've bullied me +long enough. I'm sure the lad's in the right." + +Luke snatched the pistols from the hands of Coates. + +"Very well, Mr. Tyrconnel; very well, sir," cried the attorney, boiling +with wrath, and spluttering out his words. "Extremely well, sir. You are +not perhaps aware, sir, what you have done; but you will repent this, +sir--repent, I say--repent was my word, Mr. Tyrconnel." + +"Poh!--poh!" replied Titus. "I shall never repent a good-natured +action." + +"Follow me," cried Luke; "settle your disputes hereafter. Quick, or we +shall be too late." + +Coates bustled after him, and Titus, putting the neck of the forbidden +whisky bottle to his lips, and gulping down a hasty mouthful, snatched +up a rusty poker, and followed the party with more alacrity than might +have been expected from so portly a personage. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI_ + +_THE APPARITION_ + + _Gibbet._ Well, gentlemen, 'tis a fine night for our enterprise. + + _Hounslow._ Dark as hell. + + _Bagshot._ And blows like the devil. + + _Boniface._ You'll have no creature to deal with but the ladies. + + _Gibbet._ And I can assure you, friend, there's a great deal of + address, and good manners, in robbing a lady. I am the most of a + gentleman, that way, that ever travelled the road. + + _Beaux Stratagem._ + + +Accompanied by her son, Lady Rookwood, on quitting the chamber of the +dead, returned to her own room. She then renewed all her arguments; had +recourse to passionate supplications--to violent threats, but without +effect. Ranulph maintained profound silence. Passion, as it ever doth, +defeated its own ends; and Lady Rookwood, seeing the ill effect her +anger would probably produce, gradually softened the asperity of her +manner, and suffered him to depart. + +Left to herself, and to the communings of her own troubled spirit, her +fortitude, in a measure, forsook her, under the pressure of the +difficulties by which she was environed. There was no plan she could +devise--no scheme adopt, unattended with peril. She must act alone--with +promptitude and secrecy. To win her son over was her chief desire, and +that, at all hazards, she was resolved to do. But how? She knew of only +one point on which he was vulnerable--his love for Eleanor Mowbray. By +raising doubts in his mind, and placing fresh difficulties in his path, +she might compel him to acquiesce in her machinations, as a necessary +means of accomplishing his own object. This she hoped to effect. Still +there was a depth of resolution in the placid stream of Ranulph's +character which she had often noticed with apprehension. Aware of his +firmness, she dreaded lest his sense of justice should be stronger than +his passion. + +As she wove these webs of darkness, fear, hitherto unknown, took +possession of her soul. She listened to the howling of the wind--to the +vibration of the rafters--to the thunder's roar, and to the hissing +rain--till she, who never trembled at the thought of danger, became +filled with vague uneasiness. Lights were ordered; and when her old +attendant returned. Lady Rookwood fixed a look so wistful upon her, that +Agnes ventured to address her. + +"Bless you, my lady," said the ancient handmaiden, trembling, "you look +very pale, and no wonder. I feel sick at heart, too. Oh! I shall be glad +when they return from the church, and happier still when the morning +dawns. I can't sleep a wink--can't close my eyes, but I think of him." + +"Of _him_?" + +"Of Sir Piers, my lady; for though he's dead, I don't think he's gone." + +"How?" + +"Why, my lady, the corruptible part of him's gone, sure enough. But the +incorruptible, as Dr. Small calls it--the sperrit, my lady. It might be +my fancy, your ladyship; but as I'm standing here, when I went back into +the room just now for the lights, as I hope to live, I thought I saw Sir +Piers in the room." + +"You are crazed, Agnes." + +"No, my lady, I'm not crazed; it was mere fancy, no doubt. Oh, it's a +blessed thing to live with an easy conscience--a thrice blessed thing to +_die_ with an easy one, and that's what I never shall, I'm afeard. Poor +Sir Piers! I'd mumble a prayer for him, if I durst." + +"Leave me," said Lady Rookwood, impatiently. + +And Agnes quitted the room. + +"What if the dead can return?" thought Lady Rookwood. "All men doubt it, +yet all men believe it. _I_ would not believe it, were there not a +creeping horror that overmasters me, when I think of the state beyond +the grave--that intermediate state, for such it must be, when the body +lieth mouldering in the ground, and the soul survives, to wander, +unconfined, until the hour of doom. And doth the soul survive when +disenthralled? Is it dependent on the body? Does it perish with the +body? These are doubts I cannot resolve. But if I deemed there was no +future state, this hand should at once liberate me from my own +weaknesses--my fears--my life. There is but one path to acquire that +knowledge, which, once taken, can never be retraced. I am content to +live--while living, to be feared--it may be, hated; when dead, to be +contemned--yet still remembered. Ha! what sound was that? A stifled +scream! Agnes!--without there! She is full of fears. I am not free from +them myself, but I will shake them off. This will divert their channel," +continued she, drawing from her bosom the marriage certificate. "This +will arouse the torpid current of my blood--'_Piers Rookwood to Susan +Bradley_.' And by whom was it solemnized? The name is Checkley--Richard +Checkley. Ha! I bethink me--a Papist priest--a recusant--who was for +some time an inmate of the hall. I have heard of this man--he was +afterwards imprisoned, but escaped--he is either dead or in a foreign +land. No witnesses--'tis well! Methinks Sir Piers Rookwood did well to +preserve this. It shall light his funeral pyre. Would he could now +behold me, as I consume it!" + +She held the paper in the direction of the candle; but, ere it could +touch the flame, it dropped from her hand. As if her horrible wish had +been granted, before her stood the figure of her husband! Lady Rookwood +started not. No sign of trepidation or alarm, save the sudden stiffening +of her form, was betrayed. Her bosom ceased to palpitate--her +respiration stopped--her eyes were fixed upon the apparition. + +The figure appeared to regard her sternly. It was at some little +distance, within the shade cast by the lofty bedstead. Still she could +distinctly discern it. There was no ocular deception; it was attired in +the costume Sir Piers was wont to wear--a hunting dress. All that her +son had told her rushed to her recollection. The phantom advanced. Its +countenance was pale, and wore a gloomy frown. + +"What would you destroy?" demanded the apparition, in a hollow tone. + +"The evidence of----" + +"What?" + +"Your marriage." + +"With yourself, accursed woman?" + +"With Susan Bradley." + +"What's that I hear?" shouted the figure, in an altered tone. "Married +to her! then Luke _is_ legitimate, and heir to this estate!" Whereupon +the apparition rushed to the table, and laid a very substantial grasp +upon the document. "A marriage certificate!" ejaculated the spectre; +"here's a piece of luck! It ain't often in our lottery life we draw a +prize like this. One way or the other, it must turn up a few cool +thousands." + +"Restore that paper, villain," exclaimed Lady Rookwood, recovering all +the audacity natural to her character the instant she discovered the +earthly nature of the intruder--"restore it, or, by Heaven, you shall +rue your temerity." + +"Softly, softly," replied the pseudo-phantom, with one hand pushing back +the lady, while the other conveyed the precious document to the custody +of his nether man--"softly," said he, giving the buckskin pocket a +slap--"two words to that, my lady. I know its value as well as yourself, +and must make my market. The highest offer has me, your ladyship; he's +but a poor auctioneer that knocks down his ware when only one bidder is +present. Luke Bradley, or, as I find he now is, Sir Luke Rookwood, may +come down more handsomely." + +"Who are you, ruffian, and to what end is this masquerade assumed? If +for the purpose of terrifying me into compliance with the schemes of +that madman, Luke Bradley, whom I presume to be your confederate, your +labor is misspent--your stolen disguise has no more weight with me than +his forged claims." + +"Forged claims! Egad, he must be a clever hand to have forged that +certificate. Your ladyship, however, is in error. Sir Luke Rookwood is +no associate of mine; I am his late father's friend. But I have no time +to bandy talk. What money have you in the house? Be alive." + +"You _are_ a robber, then?" + +"Not I. I'm a tax-gatherer--a collector of Rich-Rates--ha, ha! What +plate have you got? Nay, don't be alarmed--take it quietly--these things +can't be helped--better make up your mind to do it without more +ado--much the best plan--no screaming, it may injure your lungs, and can +alarm nobody. Your maids have done as much before--it's beneath your +dignity to make so much noise. So, you will not heed me? As you will." +Saying which, he deliberately cut the bell-cord, and drew out a brace of +pistols at the same time. + +"Agnes!" shrieked Lady Rookwood, now seriously alarmed. + +"I must caution your ladyship to be silent," said the robber, who, as +our readers will no doubt have already conjectured, was no other than +the redoubted Jack Palmer. "Agnes is already disposed of," said he, +cocking a pistol. "However like your deceased 'lord and master' I may +appear, you will find you have got a very different spirit from that of +Sir Piers to deal with. I am naturally the politest man breathing--have +been accounted the best-bred man on the road by every lady whom I have +had the honor of addressing; and I should be sorry to sully my +well-earned reputation by anything like rudeness. I must use a little +force, of the gentlest kind. Perhaps you will permit me to hand you to a +chair. Bless me! what a wrist your ladyship has got. Excuse me if I hurt +you, but you are so devilish strong. What ho! 'Sir Piers Rookwood +calls--'" + +"Ready," cried a voice. + +"That's the word," rejoined another; "ready;" and immediately two men, +their features entirely hidden by a shroud of black crape, accoutred in +rough attire, and each armed with pistols, rushed into the room. + +"Lend a hand," said Jack. + +Even in this perilous extremity Lady Rookwood's courage did not desert +her. Anticipating their purpose, ere her assailants could reach her she +extricated herself from Palmer's grasp, and rushed upon the foremost so +unexpectedly, that, before the man could seize her, she snatched a +pistol from his hand, and presented it at the group with an aspect like +that of a tigress at bay--her eye wandering from one to the other, as if +selecting a mark. + +There was a pause of a few seconds, in which the men glanced at the +lady, and then at their leader. Jack looked blank. + +"Hem!" said he, coolly; "this is something new--disarmed--defied by a +petticoat. Hark ye, Rob Rust, the disgrace rests with you. Clear your +character, by securing her at once. What! afraid of a woman?" + +"A woman!" repeated Rust, in a surly tone; "devilish like a woman, +indeed. Few men could do what she has done. Give the word, and I fire. +As to seizing her, that's more than I'll engage to do." + +"You are a coward," cried Jack. "I will steer clear of blood--if I can +help it. Come, madam, surrender, like the more sensible part of your +sex, at discretion. You will find resistance of no avail." And he +stepped boldly towards her. + +Lady Rookwood pulled the trigger. The pistol flashed in the pan. She +flung away the useless weapon without a word. + +"Ha, ha!" said Jack, as he leisurely stooped to pick up the pistol, and +approached her ladyship; "the bullet is not yet cast that is to be my +billet. Here," said he, dealing Rust a heavy thump upon the shoulder +with the butt-end of the piece, "take back your snapper, and look you +prick the touchhole, or your barking-iron will never bite for you. And +now, madam, I must take the liberty of again handing you to a seat. Dick +Wilder, the cord--quick. It distresses me to proceed to such lengths +with your ladyship--but safe bind, safe find, as Mr. Coates would say." + +"You will not bind me, ruffian." + +"Your ladyship is very much mistaken--I have no alternative--your +ladyship's wrist is far too dexterous to be at liberty. I must +furthermore request of your ladyship to be less vociferous--you +interrupt business, which should be transacted with silence and +deliberation." + +Lady Rookwood's rage and vexation at this indignity were beyond all +bounds. Resistance, however, was useless, and she submitted in silence. +The cord was passed tightly round her arms, when it flashed upon her +recollection for the first time that Coates and Tyrconnel, who were in +charge of her captive in the lower corridor, might be summoned to her +assistance. This idea no sooner crossed her mind than she uttered a loud +and prolonged scream. + +"'Sdeath!" cried Jack; "civility is wasted here. Give me the gag, Rob." + +"Better slit her squeaking-pipe at once," replied Rust, drawing his +clasped knife; "she'll thwart everything." + +"The gag, I say, not _that_." + +"I can't find the gag," exclaimed Wilder, savagely. "Leave Rob Rust to +manage her--he'll silence her, I warrant you, while you and I rummage +the room." + +"Ay, leave her to me," said the other miscreant. "Go about your +business, and take no heed. Her hands are fast--she can't scratch. I'll +do it with a single gash--send her to join her lord, whom she loved so +well, before he's under ground. They'll have something to see when they +come home from the master's funeral--their mistress _cut and dry_ for +another. Ho, ho!" + +"Mercy, mercy!" shrieked Lady Rookwood. + +"Ay, ay, I'll be merciful," said Rust, brandishing his knife before her +eyes. "I'll not be long about it. Leave her to me--I'll give her a taste +of Sir Sydney." + +"No, no, Rust; no bloodshed," said Jack, authoritatively; "I'll find +some other way to gag the jade." + +At this moment a noise of rapid footsteps was heard within the passage. + +"Assistance comes," screamed Lady Rookwood. "Help! help!" + +"To the door!" cried Jack. The words were scarcely out of his mouth +before Luke dashed into the room, followed by Coates and Tyrconnel. + +Palmer and his companions levelled their pistols at the intruders, and +the latter would have fired, but Jack's keen eye having discerned Luke +amongst the foremost, checked further hostilities for the present. Lady +Rookwood, meanwhile, finding herself free from restraint, rushed towards +her deliverers, and crouched beneath Luke's protecting arms, which were +extended, pistol in hand, over her head. Behind them stood Titus +Tyrconnel, flourishing the poker, and Mr. Coates, who, upon the sight of +so much warlike preparation, began somewhat to repent having rushed so +precipitately into the lion's den. + +"Luke Bradley!" exclaimed Palmer, stepping forward. + +"Luke Bradley!" echoed Lady Rookwood, recoiling and staring into his +face. + +"Fear nothing, madam," cried Luke. "I am here to assist you--I will +defend you with my life." + +"_You_ defend _me_!" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, doubtfully. + +"Even _I_," cried Luke, "strange as it may sound." + +"Holy powers protect me!" ejaculated Titus. "As I live, it is Sir Piers +himself." + +"Sir Piers!" echoed Coates, catching the infection of terror, as he +perceived Palmer more distinctly. "What! is the dead come to life again? +A ghost, a ghost!" + +"By my soul," cried Titus, "it's the first ghost I ever heard of that +committed a burglary in its own house, and on the night of the body's +burial, too. But who the devil are these? maybe they're ghosts +likewise." + +"They are," said Palmer, in a hollow tone, mimicking the voice of Sir +Piers, "attendant spirits. We are come for this woman; her time is out; +so no more palavering, Titus. Lend a hand to take her to the churchyard, +and be hanged to you." + +"Upon my conscience, Mr. Coates," cried Titus, "it's either the devil, +or Sir Piers. We'll be only in the way here. He's only just settling his +old scores with his lady. I thought it would come to this long ago. We'd +best beat a retreat." + +Jack took advantage of the momentary confusion created by this +incidental alarm at his disguise to direct Rust towards the door by +which the new comers had entered; and, this being accomplished, he burst +into a loud laugh. + +"What! not know me?" cried he--"not know your old friend with a new +face, Luke? Nor you, Titus? Nor you, who can see through a millstone, +lawyer Coates, don't you recognize----" + +"Jack Palmer, as I'm a sinner!" cried Titus. "Why, this beats Banaghan. +Arrah! Jack, honey, what does this mean? Is it yourself I see in such +company? You're not robbing in earnest?" + +"Indeed but I am, friend Titus," exclaimed Jack; "and _it is_ my own +self you see. I just took the liberty of borrowing Sir Piers's old +hunting-coat from the justice-room. You said my toggery wouldn't do for +the funeral. I'm no other than plain Jack Palmer, after all." + +"With half a dozen aliases at your back, I dare say," cried Coates. "_I_ +suspected you all along. All your praise of highwaymen was not lost upon +me. No, no; I _can_ see into a millstone, be it ever so thick." + +"Well," replied Jack, "I'm sorry to see you here, friend Titus. Keep +quiet, and you shall come to no harm. As to you, Luke Bradley, you have +anticipated my intention by half an hour; I meant to set you free. For +you, Mr. Coates, you may commit all future care of your affairs to your +executors, administrators, and assigns. You will have no further need to +trouble yourself with worldly concerns," added he, levelling a pistol at +the attorney, who, however, shielded himself, in an agony of +apprehension, behind Luke's person. "Stand aside, Luke." + +"I stir not," replied Luke. "I thank you for your good intention, and +will not injure you--that is, if you do not force me to do so. I am here +to defend her ladyship." + +"What's that you say?" returned Jack, in surprise--"_defend_ her +ladyship?" + +"With my life," replied Luke. "Let me counsel you to depart." + +"Are you mad? Defend her--Lady Rookwood--your enemy--who would hang you? +Tut, tut! Stand aside, I say, Luke Bradley, or look to yourself." + +"You had better consider well ere you proceed," said Luke. "You know me +of old. I have taken odds as great, and not come off the vanquished." + +"The odds are even," cried Titus, "if Mr. Coates will but show fight. +I'll stand by you to the last, my dear boy. You're the right son of your +father, though on the wrong side. Och! Jack Palmer, my jewel, no wonder +you resemble Dick Turpin." + +"You hear this?" cried Luke. + +"Hot-headed fool!" muttered Jack. + +"Why don't you shoot him on the spot?" said Wilder. + +"And mar my own chance," thought Jack. "No, that will never do; his life +is not to be thrown away. Be quiet," said he, in a whisper to Wilder; +"I've another card to play, which shall serve us better than all the +plunder here. No harm must come to that youngster; his life is worth +thousands to us." Then, turning to Luke, he continued, "I'm loth to hurt +you; yet what can I do? You must have the worst of it if we come to a +pitched battle. I therefore advise you, as a friend, to draw off your +forces. We are three to three, it is true; but two of _your_ party are +unarmed." + +"Unarmed!" interrupted Titus. "Devil burn me! this iron shillelah shall +convince you to the contrary, Jack, or any of your friends." + +"Make ready then, my lads," cried Palmer. + +"Stop a minute," exclaimed Coates. "This gets serious; it will end in +homicide--in murder. We shall all have our throats cut to a certainty; +and though these rascals will as certainly be hanged for it, that will +be poor satisfaction to the sufferers. Had we not better refer the +matter to arbitration?" + +"I'm for fighting it out," said Titus, whisking the poker round his head +like a flail in action. "My blood's up. Come on, Jack Palmer, I'm for +you." + +"I should vote for retreating," chattered the attorney, "if that cursed +fellow had not placed a _ne exeat_ at the door." + +"Give the word, captain," cried Rust, impatiently. + +"Ay, ay," echoed Wilder. + +"A skilful general always parleys," said Jack. "A word in your ear, +Luke, ere that be done which cannot be undone." + +"You mean me no treachery?" returned Luke. + +Jack made no answer, but uncocking his pistols, deposited them within +his pockets. + +"Shoot him as he advances," whispered Coates; "he is in your power now." + +"Scoundrel!" replied Luke, "do you think me as base as yourself?" + +"Hush, hush! for God's sake don't expose me," said Coates. + +Lady Rookwood had apparently listened to this singular conference with +sullen composure, though in reality she was racked with anxiety as to +its results; and, now apprehending that Palmer was about to make an +immediate disclosure to Luke, she accosted him as he passed her. + +"Unbind me!" cried she, "and what you wish shall be +yours--money--jewels----" + +"Ha! may I depend?" + +"I pledge my word." + +Palmer untied the cord, and Lady Rookwood, approaching a table whereon +stood the escritoire, touched a spring, and a secret drawer flew open. + +"You do this of your own free will?" asked Luke. "Speak, if it be +otherwise." + +"I do," returned the lady, hastily. + +Palmer's eyes glistened at the treasures exposed to his view. + +"They are jewels of countless price. Take them, and rid me," she added +in a whisper, "of _him_." + +"Luke Bradley?" + +"Ay." + +"Give them to me." + +"They are yours freely on those terms." + +"You hear that, Luke," cried he, aloud; "you hear it, Titus; this is no +robbery. Mr. Coates--'Know all men by these _presents_'--I call you to +witness, Lady Rookwood gives me these pretty things." + +"I do," returned she; adding, in a whisper, "on the terms which I +proposed." + +"Must it be done at once?" + +"Without an instant's delay." + +"Before your own eyes?" + +"I fear not to look on. Each moment is precious. He is off his guard +now. You do it, you know, in self-defence." + +"And you?" + +"For the same cause." + +"Yet he came here to aid you?" + +"What of that?" + +"He would have risked his life for yours?" + +"I cannot pay back the obligation. He must die!" + +"The document?" + +"Will be useless then." + +"Will not that suffice; why aim at life?" + +"You trifle with me. You fear to do it." + +"_Fear!_" + +"About it, then; you shall have more gold." + +"I will about it," cried Jack, throwing the casket to Wilder, and +seizing Lady Rookwood's hands. "I am no Italian bravo, madam--no +assassin--no remorseless cut-throat. What are you--devil or woman--who +ask me to do this? Luke Bradley, I say." + +"Would you betray me?" cried Lady Rookwood. + +"You have betrayed yourself, madam. Nay, nay, Luke, hands off. See, Lady +Rookwood, how you would treat a friend. This strange fellow would blow +out my brains for laying a finger upon your ladyship." + +"I will suffer no injury to be done to her," said Luke; "release her." + +"Your ladyship hears him," said Jack. "And you, Luke, shall learn the +value set upon your generosity. You will not have _her_ injured. This +instant she has proposed, nay, paid for _your_ assassination." + +"How?" exclaimed Luke, recoiling. + +"A lie, as black as hell," cried Lady Rookwood. + +"A truth, as clear as heaven," retained Jack. "I will speedily convince +you of the fact." Then, turning to Lady Rookwood, he whispered, "Shall I +give him the marriage document?" + +"Beware!" said Lady Rookwood. + +"Do I avouch the truth, then?" + +She was silent. + +"I am answered," said Luke. + +"Then leave her to her fate," cried Jack. + +"No," replied Luke; "she is still a woman, and I will not abandon her to +ruffianly violence. Set her free." + +"You are a fool," said Jack. + +"Hurrah, hurrah!" vociferated Coates, who had rushed to the window. +"Rescue, rescue! they are returning from the church; I see the +torchlight in the avenue; we are saved!" + +"Hell and the devil!" cried Jack; "not an instant is to be lost. Alive, +lads; bring off all the plunder you can; be handy!" + +"Lady Rookwood, I bid you farewell," said Luke, in a tone in which scorn +and sorrow were blended. "We shall meet again." + +"We have not parted yet," returned she; "will you let this man pass? A +thousand pounds for his life." + +"Upon the nail?" asked Rust. + +"By the living God, if any of you attempt to touch him, I will blow his +brains out upon the spot, be he friend or foe," cried Jack. "Luke +Bradley, _we_ shall meet again. You shall hear from me." + +"Lady Rookwood," said Luke, as he departed, "I shall not forget this +night." + +"Is all ready?" asked Palmer of his comrades. + +"All." + +"Then budge." + +"Stay!" cried Lady Rookwood, in a whisper to him. "What will purchase +that document?" + +"Hem!" + +"A thousand pounds?" + +"Double it." + +"It _shall_ be doubled." + +"I will turn it over." + +"Resolve me now." + +"You shall hear from me." + +"In what manner?" + +"I will find speedy means." + +"Your name is Palmer?" + +"Palmer is the name he goes by, your ladyship," replied Coates, "but it +is the fashion with these rascals to have an alias." + +"Ha! ha!" said Jack, thrusting the ramrod into his pistol-barrel, "are +you there, Mr. Coates? Pay your wager, sir." + +"What wager?" + +"The hundred we bet that you would take me if ever you had the chance." + +"Take _you_!--it was Dick Turpin I betted to take." + +"_I_ am DICK TURPIN--that's my alias!" replied Jack. + +"Dick Turpin! then I'll have a snap at you at all hazards," cried +Coates, springing suddenly towards him. + +"And I at you," said Turpin, discharging his pistol right in the face of +the rash attorney; "there's a quittance in full." + + + + +_BOOK III_ + + +_THE GIPSY_ + + Lay a garland on my hearse + Of the dismal yew; + Maidens, willow branches bear, + Say I died true. + My love was false, but I was firm + From my hour of birth; + Upon my buried body lie + Lightly, gentle earth. + + BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_A MORNING RIDE_ + + I had a sister, who among the race + Of gipsies was the fairest. Fair she was + In gentle blood, and gesture to her beauty. + + BROME. + + +On quitting Lady Rookwood's chamber, Luke speeded along the gloomy +corridor, descended the spiral stairs, and, swiftly traversing sundry +other dark passages, issued from a door at the back of the house. Day +was just beginning to break. His first object had been to furnish +himself with means to expedite his flight; and, perceiving no one in the +yard, he directed his hasty steps towards the stable. The door was +fortunately unfastened; and, entering, he found a strong roan horse, +which he knew, from description, had been his father's favorite hunter, +and to the use of which he now considered himself fully entitled. The +animal roused himself as he approached, shook his glossy coat, and +neighed, as if he recognized the footsteps and voice. + +"Thou art mistaken, old fellow," said Luke; "I am not he thou thinkest; +nevertheless, I am glad thy instinct would have it so. If thou bearest +my father's son as thou hast borne thy old master, o'er many a field for +many a day, he need not fear the best mounted of his pursuers. Soho! +come hither, Rook." + +The noble steed turned at the call. Luke hastily saddled him, vaulted +upon his back, and, disregarding every impediment in the shape of fence +or ditch, shaped his course across the field towards the sexton's +cottage, which he reached just as its owner was in the act of unlocking +his door. Peter testified his delight and surprise at the escape of his +grandson, by a greeting of chuckling laughter. + +"How?--escaped!" exclaimed he. "Who has delivered you from the hands of +the Moabites? Ha, ha! But why do I ask? Who could it have been but Jack +Palmer?" + +"My own hands have set me free," returned Luke. "I am indebted to no man +for liberty; still less to _him_. But I cannot tarry here; each moment +is precious. I came to request you to accompany me to the gipsy +encampment. Will you go, or not?" + +"And mount behind you?" replied Peter; "I like not the manner of +conveyance." + +"Farewell, then." And Luke turned to depart. + +"Stay; that is Sir Piers's horse, old Rook. I care not if I do ride +him." + +"Quick, then; mount." + +"I will not delay you a moment," rejoined the sexton, opening his door, +and throwing his implements into the cottage. "Back, Mole; back, sir," +cried he, as the dog rushed out to greet him. "Bring your steed nigh +this stone, grandson Luke--there--a little nearer--all's right." And +away they galloped. + +The sexton's first inquiries were directed to ascertain how Luke had +accomplished his escape; and, having satisfied himself in this +particular, he was content to remain silent; musing, it might be, on the +incidents detailed to him. + +The road Luke chose was a rough, unfrequented lane, that skirted, for +nearly a mile, the moss-grown palings of the park. It then diverged to +the right, and seemed to bear towards a range of hills rising in the +distance. High hedges impeded the view on either hand; but there were +occasional gaps, affording glimpses of the tract of country through +which he was riding. Meadows were seen steaming with heavy dews, +intersected by a deep channelled stream, whose course was marked by a +hanging cloud of vapor, as well as by a row of melancholy +pollard-willows, that stood like stripped, shivering urchins by the +river side. Other fields succeeded, yellow with golden grain, or bright +with flowering clover--the autumnal crop--colored with every shade, from +the light green of the turnip to the darker verdure of the bean, the +various products of the teeming land. The whole was backed by round +drowsy masses of trees. + +Luke spoke not, nor abated his furious course, till the road began to +climb a steep ascent. He then drew in the rein, and from the heights of +the acclivity surveyed the plain over which he had passed. + +It was a rich agricultural district, with little picturesque beauty, but +much of true English endearing loveliness to recommend it. Such a quiet, +pleasing landscape, in short, as one views, at such a season of the +year, from every eminence in every county of our merry isle. The picture +was made up of a tract of land filled with corn ripe for the sickle, or +studded with sheaves of the same golden produce, enlivened with green +meadows, so deeply luxuriant as to claim the scythe for the second time; +each divided from the other by thick hedgerows, the uniformity of which +was broken ever and anon by some towering elm, tall poplar, or +wide-branching oak. Many old farmhouses, with their broad barns and +crowded haystacks--forming little villages in themselves--ornamented the +landscape at different points, and by their substantial look evidenced +the fertility of the soil, and the thriving condition of its +inhabitants. Some three miles distant might be seen the scattered hamlet +of Rookwood; the dark russet thatch of its houses scarcely perceptible +amidst the embrowned foliage of the surrounding timber. The site of the +village was, however, pointed out by the square tower of the antique +church, that crested the summit of the adjoining hill; and although the +hall was entirely hidden from view, Luke readily traced out its locality +amidst the depths of the dark grove in which it was embosomed. + +This goodly prospect had other claims to attention in Luke's eyes +besides its agricultural or pictorial merit. It was, or he deemed it +was, his own. Far as his eye ranged, yea, even beyond the line of +vision, the estates of Rookwood extended. + +"Do you see that house below us in the valley?" asked Peter of his +companion. + +"I do," replied Luke; "a snug old house--a model of a farm. Everything +looks comfortable and well to do about it. There are a dozen lusty +haystacks, or thereabouts; and the great barn, with its roof yellowed +like gold, looks built for a granary; and there are stables, +kine-houses, orchards, dovecots, and fishponds, and an old circular +garden, with wall-fruit in abundance. He should be a happy man, and a +wealthy one, who dwells therein." + +"He dwells therein no longer," returned Peter; "he died last night." + +"How know you that? None are stirring in the house as yet." + +"The owner of that house, Simon Toft," replied Peter, "was last night +struck by a thunderbolt. He was one of the coffin-bearers at your +father's funeral. They are sleeping within the house, you say. 'Tis +well. Let them sleep on--they will awaken too soon, wake when they +may--ha, ha!" + +"Peace!" cried Luke; "you blight everything--even this smiling landscape +you would turn to gloom. Does not this morn awaken a happier train of +thoughts within your mind? With me it makes amends for want of sleep, +effaces resentment, and banishes every black misgiving. 'Tis a joyous +thing thus to scour the country at earliest dawn; to catch all the +spirit and freshness of the morning; to be abroad before the lazy world +is half awake; to make the most of a brief existence; and to have spent +a day of keen enjoyment, almost before the day begins with some. I like +to anticipate the rising of the glorious luminary; to watch every line +of light changing, as at this moment, from shuddering gray to blushing +rose! See how the heavens are dyed! Who would exchange yon gorgeous +spectacle," continued he, pointing towards the east, and again urging +his horse to full speed down the hill, endangering the sexton's seat, +and threatening to impale him upon the crupper of the saddle--"who would +exchange that sight, and the exhilarating feeling of this fresh morn, +for a couch of eiderdown, and a headache in reversion?" + +"I for one," returned the sexton, sharply, "would willingly exchange it +for that, or any other couch, provided it rid me of this accursed +crupper, which galls me sorely. Moderate your pace, grandson Luke, or I +must throw myself off the horse in self-defence." + +Luke slackened his charger's pace, in compliance with the sexton's wish. + +"Ah! well," continued Peter, restored in a measure to comfort; "now I +can contemplate the sunrise, which you laud, somewhat at mine ease. 'Tis +a fine sight, I doubt not, to the eyes of youth; and, to the sanguine +soul of him upon whom life itself is dawning, is, I dare say, +inspiriting: but when the heyday of existence is past; when the blood +flows sluggishly in the veins; when one has known the desolating storms +which the brightest sunrise has preceded, the seared heart refuses to +trust its false glitter; and, like the experienced sailor, sees oft in +the brightest skies a forecast of the tempest. To such a one, there can +be no new dawn of the heart; no sun can gild its cold and cheerless +horizon; no breeze can revive pulses that have long since ceased to +throb with any chance emotion. I am too old to feel freshness in this +nipping air. It chills me more than the damps of night, to which I am +accustomed. Night--midnight! is my season of delight. Nature is instinct +then with secrets dark and dread. There is a language which he who +sleepeth not, but will wake, and watch, may haply learn. Strange organs +of speech hath the invisible world; strange language doth it talk; +strange communion hold with him who would pry into its mysteries. It +talks by bat and owl--by the grave-worm, and by each crawling thing--by +the dust of graves, as well as by those that rot therein--but ever doth +it discourse by night, and specially when the moon is at the full. 'Tis +the lore I have then learned that makes that season dear to me. Like +your cat, mine eye expands in darkness. I blink at the sunshine, like +your owl." + +"Cease this forbidding strain," returned Luke; "it sounds as harshly as +your own screech-owl's cry. Let your thoughts take a more sprightly +turn, more in unison with my own and the fair aspect of nature." + +"Shall I direct them to the gipsies' camp, then?" said Peter, with a +sneer. "Do your own thoughts tend thither?" + +"You are not altogether in the wrong," replied Luke. "I _was_ thinking +of the gipsies' camp, and of one who dwells amongst its tents." + +"I knew it," replied Peter. "Did you hope to deceive me by attributing +all your joyousness of heart to the dawn? Your thoughts have been +wandering all this while upon one who hath, I will engage, a pair of +sloe-black eyes, an olive skin, and yet withal a clear one--'black, yet +comely, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon'--a mesh of +jetty hair, that hath entangled you in its network--ripe lips, and a +cunning tongue--one of the plagues of Egypt.--Ha, ha!" + +"You have guessed shrewdly," replied Luke; "I care not to own that my +thoughts were so occupied." + +"I was assured of it," replied the sexton. "And what may be the name of +her towards whom your imagination was straying?" + +"Sibila Perez," replied Luke. "Her father was a Spanish Gitano. She is +known amongst her people by her mother's name of Lovel." + +"She is beautiful, of course?" + +"Ay, very beautiful!--but no matter! You shall judge of her charms +anon." + +"I will take your word for them," returned the sexton; "and you love +her?" + +"Passionately." + +"You are not married?" asked Peter, hastily. + +"Not as yet," replied Luke; "but my faith is plighted." + +"Heaven be praised! The mischief is not then irreparable. I would have +you married--though not to a gipsy girl." + +"And whom would you select?" + +"One before whom Sybil's beauty would pale as stars at day's approach." + +"There lives not such a one." + +"Trust me there does. Eleanor Mowbray is lovely beyond parallel. I was +merely speculating upon a possibility when I wished her yours--it is +scarcely likely she would cast her eyes upon you." + +"I shall not heed her neglect. Graced with my title, I doubt not, were +it my pleasure to seek a bride amongst those of gentle blood, I should +not find all indifferent to my suit." + +"Possibly not. Yet what might weigh with others, would not weigh with +her. There are qualities you lack which she has discovered in another." + +"In whom?" + +"In Ranulph Rookwood." + +"Is _he_ her suitor?" + +"I have reason to think so." + +"And you would have me abandon my own betrothed love, to beguile from my +brother his destined bride? That were to imitate the conduct of my +grandsire, the terrible Sir Reginald, towards _his_ brother Alan." + +The sexton answered not, and Luke fancied he could perceive a quivering +in the hands that grasped his body for support. There was a brief pause +in their conversation. + +"And who is Eleanor Mowbray?" asked Luke, breaking the silence. + +"Your cousin. On the mother's side a Rookwood. 'Tis therefore I would +urge your union with her. There is a prophecy relating to your house, +which seems as though it would be fulfilled in your person and in hers: + + When the stray Rook shall perch on the topmost bough, + There shall be clamor and screaming, I trow; + But of right, and of rule, of the ancient nest, + The Rook that with Rook mates shall hold him possest." + +"I place no faith in such fantasies," replied Luke; "and yet the lines +bear strangely upon my present situation." + +"Their application to yourself and Eleanor Mowbray is unquestionable," +replied the sexton. + +"It would seem so, indeed," rejoined Luke; and he again sank into +abstraction, from which the sexton did not care to arouse him. + +The aspect of the country had materially changed since their descent of +the hill. In place of the richly-cultivated district which lay on the +other side, a broad brown tract of waste land spread out before them, +covered with scattered patches of gorse, stunted fern, and low +brushwood, presenting an unvaried surface of unbaked turf. The shallow +coat of sod was manifested by the stones that clattered under the +horse's hoofs as he rapidly traversed the arid soil, clearing with ease +to himself, though not without discomfort to the sexton, every gravelly +trench, natural chasm, or other inequality of ground that occurred in +his course. Clinging to his grandson with the tenacity of a bird of +prey, Peter for some time kept his station in security; but, unluckily, +at one dike rather wider than the rest, the horse, owing possibly to the +mismanagement, intentional or otherwise, of Luke, swerved; and the +sexton, dislodged from his "high estate," fell at the edge of the +trench, and rolled incontinently to the bottom. + +Luke drew in the rein to inquire if any bones were broken; and Peter +presently upreared his dusty person from the abyss, and without +condescending to make any reply, yet muttering curses, "not loud, but +deep," accepted his grandson's proffered hand, and remounted. + +While thus occupied, Luke fancied he heard a distant shout, and noting +whence the sound proceeded--the same quarter by which he had approached +the heath--he beheld a single horseman spurring in their direction at +the top of his speed; and to judge from the rate at which he advanced, +it was evident he was anything but indifferently mounted. Apprehensive +of pursuit, Luke expedited the sexton's ascent; and that accomplished, +without bestowing further regard upon the object of his solicitude, he +resumed his headlong flight. He now thought it necessary to bestow more +attention on his choice of road, and, perfectly acquainted with the +heath, avoided all unnecessary hazardous passes. In spite of his +knowledge of the ground, and the excellence of his horse, the stranger +sensibly gained upon him. The danger, however, was no longer imminent. + +"We are safe," cried Luke; "the limits of Hardchase are past. In a few +seconds we shall enter Davenham Wood. I will turn the horse loose, and +we will betake ourselves to flight amongst the trees. I will show you a +place of concealment. He cannot follow us on horseback, and on foot I +defy him." + +"Stay," cried the sexton. "He is not in pursuit--he takes another +course--he wheels to the right. By Heaven! it is the Fiend himself upon +a black horse, come for Bow-legged Ben. See, he is there already." + +The horseman had turned, as the sexton stated, careering towards a +revolting object at some little distance on the right hand. It was a +gibbet, with its grisly burden. He rode swiftly towards it, and, reining +in his horse, took off his hat, bowing profoundly to the carcase that +swung in the morning breeze. Just at that moment a gust of air catching +the fleshless skeleton, its arms seemed to be waved in reply to the +salutation. A solitary crow winged its flight over the horseman's head +as he paused. After a moment's halt, he wheeled about, and again shouted +to Luke, waving his hat. + +"As I live," said the latter, "it is Jack Palmer." + +"Dick Turpin, you mean," rejoined the sexton. "He has been paying his +respects to a brother blade. Ha, ha! Dick will never have the honor of a +gibbet; he is too tender of the knife. Did you mark the crow? But here +he comes." And in another instant Turpin was by their side. + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_A GIPSY ENCAMPMENT_ + + I see a column of slow-rising smoke + O'ertop the lofty wood, that skirts the wild. + + COWPER: _The Task_. + + +"The top of the morning to you, gem'men," said Turpin, as he rode up at +an easy canter. "Did you not hear my halloo? I caught a glimpse of you +on the hill yonder. I knew you both, two miles off; and so, having a +word or two to say to you, Luke Bradley, before I leave this part of the +country, I put Bess to it, and she soon brought me within hail. Bless +her black skin," added he, affectionately patting his horse's neck, +"there's not her match in these parts, or in any other; she wants no +coaxing to do her work--no bleeders for her. I should have been up with +you before this had I not taken a cross cut to look at poor Ben. + + One night, when mounted on my mare. + To Bagshot Heath I did repair, + And saw Will Davies hanging there, + Upon the gibbet bleak and bare, + _With a rustified, fustified, mustified air._ + +Excuse my singing. The sight of a gibbet always puts me in mind of the +Golden Farmer. May I ask whither you are bound, comrades?" + +"Comrades!" whispered the sexton to Luke; "you see _he_ does not so +easily forget his old friends." + +"I have business that will not admit of delay," rejoined Luke; "and to +speak plainly----" + +"You want not my society," returned Turpin; "I guessed as much. Natural +enough! You have got an inkling of your good fortune. You have found out +you are a rich man's heir, not a poor wench's bastard. No offence; I'm a +plain spoken man, as you will find, if you know it not already. I have +no objection to your playing these fine tricks on others, though it +won't answer your turn to do so with me." + +"Sir!" exclaimed Luke, sharply. + +"Sir to you," replied Turpin--"Sir Luke--as I suppose you would now +choose to be addressed. I am aware of all. A nod is as good as a wink to +me. Last night I learned the fact of Sir Piers's marriage from Lady +Rookwood--ay, from her ladyship. You stare--and old Peter, there, opens +his ogles now. She let it out by accident; and I am in possession of +what can alone substantiate your father's first marriage, and establish +your claims to the property." + +"The devil!" cried the sexton; adding, in a whisper to Luke, "You had +better not be precipitate in dropping so obliging an acquaintance." + +"You are jesting," said Luke to Turpin. + +"It is ill jesting before breakfast," returned Dick: "I am seldom in the +mood for a joke so early. What if a certain marriage certificate had +fallen into my hand?" + +"A marriage certificate!" echoed Luke and the sexton simultaneously. + +"The only existing proof of the union of Sir Piers Rookwood with Susan +Bradley," continued Turpin. "What if I had stumbled upon such a +document--nay more, if I knew where to direct you to it?" + +"Peace!" cried Luke to his tormentor; and then addressing Turpin, "if +what you say be true, my quest is at an end. All that I need, you appear +to possess. Other proofs are secondary to this. I know with whom I have +to deal. What do you demand for that certificate?" + +"We will talk about the matter after breakfast," said Turpin. "I wish to +treat with you as friend with friend. Meet me on those terms, and I am +your man; reject my offer, and I turn my mare's head, and ride back to +Rookwood. With me now rest all your hopes. I have dealt fairly with you, +and I expect to be fairly dealt with in return. It were idle to say, now +I have an opportunity, that I should not turn this luck to my account. I +were a fool to do otherwise. You cannot expect it. And then I have Rust +and Wilder to settle with. Though I have left them behind, they know my +destination. We have been old associates. I like your spirit--I care not +for your haughtiness; but I will not help you up the ladder to be kicked +down myself. Now you understand me. Whither are you bound?" + +"To Davenham Priory, the gipsy camp." + +"The gipsies are your friends?" + +"They are." + +"I am alone." + +"You are safe." + +"You pledge your word that all shall be on the square. You will not +mention to one of that canting crew what I have told you?" + +"With one exception, you may rely upon my secrecy." + +"Whom do you except?" + +"A woman." + +"Bad! never trust a petticoat." + +"I will answer for her with my life." + +"And for your granddad there?" + +"He will answer for himself," said Peter. "You need not fear treachery +in me. Honor among thieves, you know." + +"Or where else should you seek it?" rejoined Turpin; "for it has left +all other classes of society. Your highwayman is your only man of honor. +I will trust you both; and you shall find you may trust me. After +breakfast, as I said before, we will bring the matter to a conclusion. +Tip us your daddle, Sir Luke, and I am satisfied. You shall rule in +Rookwood, I'll engage, ere a week be flown; and then---- But so much +parleying is dull work; let's make the best of our way to breakfast." + +And away they cantered. + +A narrow bridle-road conducted them singly through the defiles of a +thick wood. Their route lay in the shade, and the air felt chilly amidst +the trees, the sun not having attained sufficient altitude to penetrate +its depths, while overhead all was warmth and light. Quivering on the +tops of the timber, the horizontal sunbeams created, in their +refraction, brilliant prismatic colorings, and filled the air with motes +like golden dust. Our horsemen heeded not the sunshine or the shade. +Occupied each with his own train of thought, they silently rode on. + +Davenham Wood, through which they urged their course, had, in the olden +time, been a forest of some extent. It was then an appendage to the +domains of Rookwood, but had passed from the hands of that family to +those of a wealthy adjoining landowner and lawyer, Sir Edward Davenham, +in the keeping of whose descendants it had ever after continued. A noble +wood it was, and numbered many patriarchal trees. Ancient oaks, with +broad, gnarled limbs, which the storms of five hundred years had vainly +striven to uproot, and which were now sternly decaying; gigantic beech +trees, with silvery stems shooting smoothly upwards, sustaining branches +of such size, that each, dissevered, would in itself have formed a tree, +populous with leaves, and variegated with rich autumnal tints; the +sprightly sycamore, the dark chestnut, the weird wych-elm, the majestic +elm itself, festooned with ivy, every variety of wood, dark, dense, and +intricate, composed the forest through which they rode; and so +multitudinous was the timber, so closely planted, so entirely filled up +with a thick, matted vegetation, which had been allowed to collect +beneath, that little view was afforded, had any been desired by the +parties, into the labyrinth of the grove. Tree after tree, clad in the +glowing livery of the season, was passed, and as rapidly succeeded by +others. Occasionally a bough projected over their path, compelling the +riders to incline their heads as they passed; but, heedless of such +difficulties, they pressed on. Now the road grew lighter, and they +became at once sensible of the genial influence of the sun. The +transition was as agreeable as instantaneous. They had opened upon an +extensive plantation of full-grown pines, whose tall, branchless stems +grew up like a forest of masts, and freely admitted the pleasant +sunshine. Beneath those trees, the soil was sandy and destitute of all +undergrowth, though covered with brown, hair-like fibres and dry cones, +shed by the pines. The agile squirrel, that freest denizen of the grove, +starting from the ground as the horsemen galloped on, sprang up the +nearest tree, and might be seen angrily gazing at the disturbers of his +haunts, beating the branches with his fore feet, in expression of +displeasure; the rabbit darted across their path; the jays flew +screaming amongst the foliage; the blue cushat, scared at the clatter of +the horses' hoofs, sped on swift wing into quarters secure from their +approach; while the parti-colored pies, like curious village gossips, +congregated to peer at the strangers, expressing their astonishment by +loud and continuous chattering. Though so gentle of ascent as to be +almost imperceptible, it was still evident that the path they were +pursuing gradually mounted a hill-side; and when at length they reached +an opening, the view disclosed the eminence they had insensibly won. +Pausing for a moment upon the brow of the hill, Luke pointed to a stream +that wound through the valley, and, tracing its course, indicated a +particular spot amongst the trees. There was no appearance of a +dwelling house--no cottage roof, no white canvas shed, to point out the +tents of the wandering tribe whose abode they were seeking. The only +circumstance betokening that it had once been the haunt of man were a +few gray monastic ruins, scarce distinguishable from the stony barrier +by which they were surrounded; and the sole evidence that it was still +frequented by human beings was a thin column of pale blue smoke, that +arose in curling wreaths from out the brake, the light-colored vapor +beautifully contrasting with the green umbrage whence it issued. + +"Our destination is yonder," exclaimed Luke, pointing in the direction +of the vapor. + +"I am glad to hear it," cried Turpin, "as well as to perceive there is +some one awake. That smoke holds out a prospect of breakfast. No smoke +without fire, as old Lady Scanmag said; and I'll wager a trifle that +fire was not lighted for the fayter fellows to count their fingers by. +We shall find three sticks, and a black pot with a kid seething in it, +I'll engage. These gipsies have picked out a prettyish spot to quarter +in--quite picturesque, as one may say--and but for that tell-tale smoke, +which looks for all the world like a Dutch skipper blowing his morning +cloud, no one need know of their vicinity. A pretty place, upon my +soul." + +The spot, in sooth, merited Turpin's eulogium. It was a little valley, +in the midst of wooded hills, so secluded, that not a single habitation +appeared in view. Clothed with timber to the very summits, excepting on +the side where the party stood, which verged upon the declivity, these +mountainous ridges presented a broken outline of foliage, variegated +with tinted masses of bright orange, timber, and deepest green. Four +hills hemmed in the valley. Here and there a gray slab of rock might be +discerned amongst the wood, and a mountain-ash figured conspicuously +upon a jutting crag immediately below them. Deep sunken in the ravine, +and concealed in part from view by the wild herbage and dwarf shrubs, +ran a range of precipitous rocks, severed, it would seem, by some +diluvial convulsion, from the opposite mountain side, as a corresponding +rift was there visible, in which the same dip of strata might be +observed, together with certain ribbed cavities, matching huge bolts of +rock which had once locked these stony walls together. Washing this +cliff, swept a clear stream, well known and well regarded, as it waxed +in width, by the honest brethren of the angle, who seldom, however, +tracked it to its rise amongst these hills. The stream found its way +into the valley through a chasm far to the left, and rushed thundering +down the mountain side in a boiling cascade. The valley was approached +in this direction from Rookwood by an unfrequented carriage-road, which +Luke had, from prudential reasons, avoided. All seemed consecrated to +silence--to solitude--to the hush of nature; yet this quiet scene was +the chosen retreat of lawless depredators, and had erstwhile been the +theatre of feudal oppression. We have said that no habitation was +visible; that no dwelling tenanted by man could be seen; but following +the spur of the furthest mountain hill, some traces of a stone wall +might be discovered; and upon a natural platform of rock stood a stern +square tower, which had once been the donjon of the castle, the lords of +which had called the four hills their own. A watch-tower then had +crowned each eminence, every vestige of which had, however, long since +disappeared. Sequestered in the vale stood the Priory before alluded +to--a Monastery of Gray Friars, of the Order of St. Francis--some of the +venerable walls of which were still remaining; and if they had not +reverted to the bat and the owl, as is wont to be the fate of such +sacred structures, their cloistered shrines were devoted to beings whose +natures partook, in some measure, of the instincts of those creatures of +the night--a people whose deeds were of darkness, and whose eyes shunned +the light. Here the gipsies had pitched their tent; and though the place +was often, in part, deserted by the vagrant horde, yet certain of the +tribe, who had grown into years--over whom Barbara Lovel held queenly +sway--made it their haunt, and were suffered by the authorities of the +neighborhood to remain unmolested--a lenient piece of policy, which, in +our infinite regard for the weal of the tawny tribe, we recommend to the +adoption of all other justices and knights of the shire. + +Bidding his grandsire have regard to his seat, Luke leaped a high bank; +and, followed by Turpin, began to descend the hill. Peter, however, took +care to provide for himself. The descent was so perilous, and the +footing so insecure, that he chose rather to trust to such conveyance as +nature had furnished him with, than to hazard his neck by any false step +of the horse. He contrived, therefore, to slide off from behind, shaping +his own course in a more secure direction. + +He who has wandered amidst the Alps must have often had occasion to +witness the wonderful surefootedness of that mountain pilot, the mule. +He must have remarked how, with tenacious hoof, he will claw the rock, +and drag himself from one impending fragment to another, with perfect +security to his rider; how he will breast the roaring currents of air, +and stand unshrinking at the verge of almost unfathomable ravines. But +it is not so with the horse: fleet on the plain, careful over rugged +ground, he is timid and uncertain on the hill-side, and the risk +incurred by Luke and Turpin, in their descent of the almost +perpendicular sides of the cliff, was tremendous. Peter watched them in +their descent with some admiration, and with much contempt. + +"He will break his neck, of a surety," said he; "but what matters it? As +well now as hereafter." + +So saying, he approached the verge of the precipice, where he could see +them more distinctly. + +The passage along which Luke rode had never before been traversed by +horse's hoof. Cut in the rock, it presented a steep zigzag path amongst +the cliffs, without any defence for the foot traveller, except such as +was afforded by a casual clinging shrub, and no protection whatever +existed for a horseman; the possibility of any one attempting the +passage not having, in all probability, entered into the calculation of +those who framed it. Added to this, the steps were of such unequal +heights, and withal so narrow, that the danger was proportionately +increased. + +"Ten thousand devils!" cried Turpin, staring downwards, "is this the +best road you have got?" + +"You will find one more easy," replied Luke, "if you ride for a quarter +of a mile down the wood, and then return by the brook side. You will +meet me at the priory." + +"No," answered the highwayman, boldly; "if you go, I go too. It shall +never be said that Dick Turpin was afraid to follow where another would +lead. Proceed." + +Luke gave his horse the bridle, and the animal slowly and steadily +commenced the descent, fixing his fore legs upon the steps, and drawing +his hinder limbs carefully after him. Here it was that the lightness and +steadiness of Turpin's mare was completely shown. No Alpine mule could +have borne its rider with more apparent ease and safety. Turpin +encouraged her by hand and word; but she needed it not. The sexton saw +them, and, tracking their giddy descent, he became more interested than +he anticipated. His attention was suddenly drawn towards Luke. + +"He is gone," cried Peter. "He falls--he sinks--my plans are all +defeated--the last link is snapped. No," added he, recovering his wonted +composure, "his end is not so fated." + +Rook had missed his footing. He rolled stumbling down the precipice a +few yards. Luke's fate seemed inevitable. His feet were entangled in the +stirrup, he could not free himself. A birch tree, growing in a chink of +the precipice, arrested his further fall. But for this timely aid all +had been over. Here Luke was enabled to extricate himself from the +stirrup and to regain his feet; seizing the bridle, he dragged his +faulty steed back again to the road. + +"You have had a narrow escape, by Jove," said Turpin, who had been +thunderstruck with the whole proceeding. "Those big cattle are always +clumsy; devilish lucky it's no worse." + +It was now comparatively smooth travelling; but they had not as yet +reached the valley, and it seemed to be Luke's object to take a +circuitous path. This was so evident that Turpin could not help +commenting upon it. + +Luke evaded the question. "The crag is steep there," said he; "besides, +to tell you the truth, I want to surprise them." + +"Ho, ho!" laughed Dick. "Surprise them, eh? What a pity the birch tree +was in the way; you would have done it properly then. Egad, here's +another surprise." + +Dick's last exclamation was caused by his having suddenly come upon a +wide gully in the rock, through which dashed a headlong torrent, crossed +by a single plank. + +"You must be mad to have taken this road," cried Turpin, gazing down +into the roaring depths in which the waterfall raged, and measuring the +distance of the pass with his eye. "So, so, Bess!--Ay, look at it, +wench. Curse me, Luke, if I think your horse will do it, and, therefore, +turn him loose." + +But Dick might as well have bidden the cataract to flow backwards. Luke +struck his heels into his horse's sides. The steed galloped to the +brink, snorted, and refused the leap. + +"I told you so--he can't do it," said Turpin. "Well, if you are +obstinate, a wilful man must have his way. Stand aside, while I try it +for you." Patting Bess, he put her to a gallop. She cleared the gulf +bravely, landing her rider safely upon the opposite rock. + +"Now then," cried Turpin, from the other side of the chasm. + +Luke again urged his steed. Encouraged by what he had seen, this time +the horse sprang across without hesitation. The next instant they were +in the valley. + +For some time they rode along the banks of the stream in silence. A +sound at length caught the quick ears of the highwayman. + +"Hist!" cried he; "some one sings. Do you hear it?" + +"I do," replied Luke, the blood rushing to his cheeks. + +"And could give a guess at the singer, no doubt," said Turpin, with a +knowing look. "Was it to hear yon woodlark that you nearly broke your +own neck, and put mine in jeopardy?" + +"Prithee be silent," whispered Luke. + +"I am dumb," replied Turpin; "I like a sweet voice as well as another." + +Clear as the note of a bird, yet melancholy as the distant dole of a +vesper-bell, arose the sound of that sweet voice from the wood. A +fragment of a Spanish gipsy song it warbled: Luke knew it well. Thus ran +the romance: + + LA GITANILLA + + By the Guadalquivir, + Ere the sun be flown, + By that glorious river + Sits a maid alone. + Like the sunset splendor + Of that current bright, + Shone her dark eyes tender + As its witching light. + Like the ripple flowing, + Tinged with purple sheen, + Darkly, richly glowing, + Is her warm cheek seen. + 'Tis the Gitanilla + By the stream doth linger, + In the hope that eve + Will her lover bring her. + + See, the sun is sinking; + All grows dim, and dies; + See, the waves are drinking + Glories of the skies. + Day's last lustre playeth + On that current dark; + Yet no speck betrayeth + His long looked-for bark. + 'Tis the hour of meeting! + Nay, the hour is past; + Swift the time is fleeting! + Fleeteth hope as fast. + Still the Gitanilla + By the stream doth linger, + In the hope that night + Will her lover bring her. + +The tender trembling of a guitar was heard in accompaniment of the +ravishing melodist. + +The song ceased. + +"Where is the bird?" asked Turpin. + +"Move on in silence, and you shall see," said Luke; and keeping upon the +turf, so that his horse's tread became inaudible, he presently arrived +at a spot where, through the boughs, the object of his investigation +could plainly be distinguished, though he himself was concealed from +view. + +Upon a platform of rock, rising to the height of the trees, nearly +perpendicularly from the river's bed, appeared the figure of the gipsy +maid. Her footstep rested on the extreme edge of the abrupt cliff, at +whose base the water boiled in a deep whirlpool, and the bounding +chamois could not have been more lightly poised. One small hand rested +upon her guitar, the other pressed her brow. Braided hair, of the +jettiest dye and sleekest texture, was twined around her brow in endless +twisted folds: + + Rowled it was in many a curious fret, + Much like a rich and curious coronet, + Upon whose arches twenty Cupids lay, + And were as tied, or loth to fly away.[24] + +And so exuberant was this rarest feminine ornament, that, after +encompassing her brow, it was passed behind, and hung down in long thick +plaits almost to her feet. Sparkling, as the sunbeams that played upon +her dark yet radiant features, were the large, black, Oriental eyes of +the maiden, and shaded with lashes long and silken. Hers was a Moorish +countenance, in which the magnificence of the eyes eclipses the face, be +it ever so beautiful--an effect to be observed in the angelic pictures +of Murillo,--and the lovely contour is scarcely noticed in the gaze +which those long, languid, luminous orbs attract. Sybil's features were +exquisite, yet you looked only at her eyes--they were the loadstars of +her countenance. Her costume was singular, and partook, like herself, of +other climes. Like the Andalusian dame, her choice of color inclined +towards black, as the material of most of her dress was of that sombre +hue. A bodice of embroidered velvet restrained her delicate bosom's +swell; a rich girdle, from which depended a silver chain, sustaining a +short poniard, bound her waist; around her slender throat was twined a +costly kerchief; and the rest of her dress was calculated to display her +slight, yet faultless, figure to the fullest advantage. + +Unconscious that she was the object of regard, she raised her guitar, +and essayed to touch the chords. She struck a few notes, and resumed her +romance: + + Swift that stream flows on, + Swift the night is wearing,-- + Yet she is not gone, + Though with heart despairing. + +Her song died away. Her hand was needed to brush off the tears that were +gathering in her large dark eyes. At once her attitude was changed. The +hare could not have started more suddenly from her form. She heard +accents well known concluding the melody: + + Dips an oar-plash--hark!-- + Gently on the river; + 'Tis her lover's bark. + On the Guadalquivir. + Hark! a song she hears! + Every note she snatches; + As the singer nears, + Her own name she catches. + Now the Gitanilla + Stays not by the water, + For the midnight hour + Hath her lover brought her. + +It was her lover's voice. She caught the sound at once, and, starting, +as the roe would arouse herself at the hunter's approach, bounded down +the crag, and ere he had finished the refrain, was by his side. + +Flinging the bridle to Turpin, Luke sprang to her, and caught her in his +arms. Disengaging herself from his ardent embrace, Sybil drew back, +abashed at the sight of the highwayman. + +"Heed him not," said Luke; "it is a friend." + +"He is welcome here then," replied Sybil. "But where have you tarried so +long, dear Luke?" continued she, as they walked to a little distance +from the highwayman. "What hath detained you? The hours have passed +wearily since you departed. You bring good news?" + +"Good news, my girl; so good, that I falter even in the telling of it. +You shall know all anon. And see, our friend yonder grows impatient. Are +there any stirring? We must bestow a meal upon him, and that forthwith: +he is one of those who brook not much delay." + +"I came not to spoil a love meeting," said Turpin, who had +good-humoredly witnessed the scene; "but, in sober seriousness, if there +is a stray capon to be met with in the land of Egypt, I shall be glad to +make his acquaintance. Methinks I scent a stew afar off." + +"Follow me," said Sybil; "your wants shall be supplied." + +"Stay," said Luke; "there is one other of our party whose coming we must +abide." + +"He is here," said Sybil, observing the sexton at a distance. "Who is +that old man?" + +"My grandsire, Peter Bradley." + +"Is that Peter Bradley?" asked Sybil. + +"Ay, you may well ask whether that old dried-up _otomy_, who ought to +grin in a glass case for folks to stare at, be kith and kin of such a +bang-up cove as your fancy man, Luke," said Turpin, laughing--"but i' +faith he is." + +"Though he is your grandsire, Luke," said Sybil, "I like him not. His +glance resembles that of the Evil Eye." + +And, in fact, the look which Peter fixed upon her was such as the +rattlesnake casts upon its victim, and Sybil felt like a poor fluttering +bird under the fascination of that venomous reptile. She could not +remove her eyes from his, though she trembled as she gazed. We have said +that Peter's orbs were like those of the toad. Age had not dimmed their +brilliancy. In his harsh features you could only read bitter scorn or +withering hate; but in his eyes resided a magnetic influence of +attraction or repulsion. Sybil underwent the former feeling in a +disagreeable degree. She was drawn to him as by the motion of a +whirlpool, and involuntarily clung to her lover. + +"It is the Evil Eye, dear Luke." + +"Tut, tut, dear Sybil; I tell you it is my grandsire." + +"The girl says rightly, however," rejoined Turpin; "Peter has a +confounded ugly look about the ogles, and stares enough to put a modest +wench out of countenance. Come, come, my old earthworm, crawl along, we +have waited for you long enough. Is this the first time you have seen a +pretty lass, eh?" + +"It is the first time I have seen one so beautiful," said Peter; "and I +crave her pardon if my freedom has offended her. I wonder not at your +enchantment, grandson Luke, now I behold the object of it. But there is +one piece of counsel I would give to this fair maid. The next time she +trusts you from her sight, I would advise her to await you at the +hill-top, otherwise the chances are shrewdly against your reaching the +ground with neck unbroken." + +There was something, notwithstanding the satirical manner in which Peter +delivered this speech, calculated to make a more favorable impression +upon Sybil than his previous conduct had inspired her with; and, having +ascertained from Luke to what his speech referred, she extended her hand +to him, yet not without a shudder, as it was enclosed in his skinny +grasp. It was like the fingers of Venus in the grasp of a skeleton. + +"This is a little hand," said Peter, "and I have some skill myself in +palmistry. Shall I peruse its lines?" + +"Not now, in the devil's name!" said Turpin, stamping impatiently. "We +shall have Old Ruffin himself amongst us presently, if Peter Bradley +grows gallant." + +Leading their horses, the party took their way through the trees. A few +minutes' walking brought them in sight of the gipsy encampment, the spot +selected for which might be termed the Eden of the valley. It was a +small green plain, smooth as a well-shorn lawn, kept ever verdant--save +in the spots where the frequent fires had scorched its surface--by the +flowing stream that rushed past it, and surrounded by an amphitheatre of +wooded hills. Here might be seen the canvas tent with its patches of +varied coloring; the rude-fashioned hut of primitive construction; the +kettle slung + + Between two poles, upon a stick transverse; + +the tethered beasts of burden, the horses, asses, dogs, carts, caravans, +wains, blocks, and other movables and immovables belonging to the +wandering tribe. Glimmering through the trees, at the extremity of the +plain, appeared the ivy-mantled walls of Davenham Priory. Though much +had gone to decay, enough remained to recall the pristine state of this +once majestic pile, and the long, though broken line of Saxon arches, +that still marked the cloister wall; the piers that yet supported the +dormitory; the enormous horse-shoe arch that spanned the court; and, +above all, the great marigold, or circular window, which terminated the +chapel, and which, though now despoiled of its painted honors, retained, +like the skeleton leaf, its fibrous intricacies entire,--all eloquently +spoke of the glories of the past, while they awakened reverence and +admiration for the still enduring beauty of the present. + +Towards these ruins Sybil conducted the party. + +"Do you dwell therein?" asked Peter, pointing towards the priory. + +"That is my dwelling," said Sybil. + +"It is one I should covet more than a modern mansion," returned the +sexton. + +"I love those old walls better than any house that was ever fashioned," +replied Sybil. + +As they entered the Prior's Close, as it was called, several swarthy +figures made their appearance from the tents. Many a greeting was +bestowed upon Luke, in the wild jargon of the tribe. At length an +uncouth dwarfish figure, with a shock head of black hair, hopped towards +them. He seemed to acknowledge Luke as his master. + +"What ho! Grasshopper," said Luke, "take these horses, and see that they +lack neither dressing nor provender." + +"And hark ye, Grasshopper," added Turpin; "I give you a special charge +about this mare. Neither dress nor feed her till I see both done myself. +Just walk her for ten minutes, and if you have a glass of ale in the +place, let her sip it." + +"Your bidding shall be done," chirped the human insect, as he fluttered +away with his charges. + +A motley assemblage of tawny-skinned varlets, dark-eyed women and +children, whose dusky limbs betrayed their lineage, in strange costume, +and of wild deportment, checked the path, muttering welcome upon welcome +into the ear of Luke as he passed. As it was evident he was in no mood +for converse, Sybil, who seemed to exercise considerable authority over +the crew, with a word dispersed them, and they herded back to their +respective habitations. + +A low door admitted Luke and his companions into what had once been the +garden, in which some old moss-encrusted apple and walnut-trees were +still standing, bearing a look of antiquity almost as venerable as that +of the adjoining fabric. + +Another open door gave them entrance to a spacious chamber, formerly the +eating-room or refectory of the holy brotherhood, and a goodly room it +had been, though now its slender lanceolated windows were stuffed with +hay to keep out the air. Large holes told where huge oaken rafters had +once crossed the roof, and a yawning aperture marked the place where a +cheering fire had formerly blazed. As regarded this latter spot, the +good old custom was not, even now, totally abrogated. An iron plate, +covered with crackling wood, sustained a ponderous black caldron, the +rich steam from which gratefully affected the olfactory organs of the +highwayman. + +"That augurs well," said he, rubbing his hands. + +"Still hungering after the fleshpots of Egypt," said the sexton, with a +ghastly smile. + +"We will see what that kettle contains," said Luke. + +"Handassah--Grace!" exclaimed Sybil, calling. + +Her summons was answered by two maidens, habited not unbecomingly, in +gipsy gear. + +"Bring the best our larder can furnish," said Sybil, "and use despatch. +You have appetites to provide for, sharpened by a long ride in the open +air." + +"And by a night's fasting," said Luke, "and solitary confinement to +boot." + +"And a night of business," added Turpin--"and plaguy perplexing business +into the bargain." + +"And the night of a funeral too," doled Peter; "and that funeral a +father's. Let us have breakfast speedily, by all means. We have rare +appetites." + +An old oaken table--it might have been the self-same upon which the holy +friars had broken their morning fast--stood in the middle of the room. +The ample board soon groaned beneath the weight of the savory caldron, +the unctuous contents of which proved to be a couple of dismembered +pheasants, an equal proportion of poultry, great gouts of ham, +mushrooms, onions, and other piquant condiments, so satisfactory to Dick +Turpin, that, upon tasting a mouthful, he absolutely shed tears of +delight. The dish was indeed the triumph of gipsy cookery; and so +sedulously did Dick apply himself to his mess, and so complete was his +abstraction, that he perceived not he was left alone. It was only when +about to wash down the last drumstick of the last fowl with a can of +excellent ale that he made this discovery. + +"What! all gone? And Peter Bradley, too? What the devil does this mean?" +mused he. "I must not muddle my brain with any more Pharaoh, though I +have feasted like a king of Egypt. That will never do. Caution, Dick, +caution. Suppose I shift yon brick from the wall, and place this +precious document beneath it. Pshaw! Luke would never play me false. And +now for Bess! Bless her black skin! she'll wonder where I've been so +long. It's not my way to leave her to shift for herself, though she can +do that on a pinch." + +Soliloquizing thus, he arose and walked towards the door. + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_SYBIL_ + + The wiving vine, that round the friendly elm + Twines her soft limbs, and weaves a leafy mantle + For her supporting lover, dares not venture + To mix her humble boughs with the embraces + Of the more lofty cedar. + + GLAPTHORNE: _Albertus Wallenstein_. + + +Beneath a moldering wall, whither they had strayed, to be free from +interruption, and upon a carpet of the greenest moss, sat Sybil and her +lover. + +With eager curiosity she listened to his tale. He recounted all that had +befallen him since his departure. He told her of the awful revelations +of the tomb; of the ring that, like a talisman, had conjured up a +thousand brilliant prospects; of his subsequent perils; his escapes; his +rencontre with Lady Rookwood; his visit to his father's body; and his +meeting with his brother. All this she heard with a cheek now flushed +with expectation, now made pale with apprehension; with palpitating +bosom, and suppressed breath. But when taking a softer tone, love, +affection, happiness inspired the theme, and Luke sought to paint the +bliss that should be theirs in his new estate; when he would throw his +fortune into her lap, his titles at her feet, and bid her wear them with +him; when, with ennobled hand and unchanged heart, he would fulfil the +troth plighted in his outcast days; in lieu of tender, grateful +acquiescence, the features of Sybil became overcast, the soft smile +faded away, and, as spring sunshine is succeeded by the sudden shower, +the light that dwelt in her sunny orbs grew dim with tears. + +"Why--why is this, dear Sybil?" said Luke, gazing upon her in +astonishment, not unmingled with displeasure. "To what am I to attribute +these tears? You do not, surely, regret my good fortune?" + +"Not on your own account, dear Luke," returned she, sadly. "The tears I +shed were for myself--the first, the only tears that I have ever shed +for such cause; and," added she, raising her head like a flower +surcharged with moisture, "they shall be the last." + +"This is inexplicable, dear Sybil. Why should you lament for yourself, +if not for me? Does not the sunshine of prosperity that now shines upon +me gild you with the same beam? Did I not even now affirm that the day +that saw me enter the hall of my forefathers should dawn upon our +espousals?" + +"True; but the sun that shines upon you, to me wears a threatening +aspect. The day of those espousals will never dawn. You cannot make me +the Lady of Rookwood." + +"What do I hear?" exclaimed Luke, surprised at this avowal of his +mistress, sadly and deliberately delivered. "Not wed you! And wherefore +not? Is it the rank I have acquired, or hope to acquire, that displeases +you? Speak, that I may waste no further time in thus pursuing the +shadows of happiness, while the reality fleets from me." + +"And _are_ they shadows; and _is_ this the reality, dear Luke? Question +your secret soul, and you will find it otherwise. You could not forego +your triumph; it is not likely. You have dwelt too much upon the proud +title which will be yours to yield it to another, when it may be won so +easily. And, above all, when your mother's reputation, and your own +stained name, may be cleared by one word, breathed aloud, would you fail +to utter it? No, dear Luke, I read your heart; you would not." + +"And if I could _not_ forego this, wherefore is it that you refuse to be +a sharer in my triumph? Why will you render my honors valueless when I +have acquired them? You love me not." + +"Not love you, Luke?" + +"Approve it, then." + +"I do approve it. Bear witness the sacrifice I am about to make of all +my hopes, at the shrine of my idolatry to you. Bear witness the agony of +this hour. Bear witness the horror of the avowal, that I never can be +yours. As Luke Bradley, I would joyfully--oh, how joyfully!--have been +your bride. As Sir Luke Rookwood"--and she shuddered as she pronounced +the name--"I never can be so." + +"Then, by Heaven! Luke Bradley will I remain. But wherefore--wherefore +not as Sir Luke Rookwood?" + +"Because," replied Sybil, with reluctance--"because I am no longer your +equal. The gipsy's low-born daughter is no mate for Sir Luke Rookwood. +Love cannot blind me, dear Luke. It cannot make me other than I am; it +cannot exalt me in my own esteem, nor in that of the world, with which +you, alas! too soon will mingle, and which will regard even me as--no +matter what!--it shall not scorn me as your bride. I will not bring +shame and reproach upon you. Oh! if for me, dear Luke, the proud ones of +the earth were to treat you with contumely, this heart would break with +agony. For myself, I have pride sufficient--perchance too much. +Perchance 'tis pride that actuates me now. I know not. But for you I am +all weakness. As you were heretofore, I would have been to you the +tenderest and truest wife that ever breathed; as you are now----" + +"Hear me, Sybil." + +"Hear _me_ out, dear Luke. One other motive there is that determines my +present conduct, which, were all else surmounted, would in itself +suffice. Ask me not what that is. I cannot explain it. For your own +sake; I implore you, be satisfied with my refusal." + +"What a destiny is mine!" exclaimed Luke, striking his forehead with his +clenched hand. "No choice is left me. Either way I destroy my own +happiness. On the one hand stands love--on the other, ambition; yet +neither will conjoin." + +"Pursue, then, ambition," said Sybil, energetically, "if you _can_ +hesitate. Forget that I have ever existed; forget you have ever loved; +forget that such a passion dwells within the human heart, and you may +still be happy, though you are great." + +"And do you deem," replied Luke, with frantic impatience, "that I _can_ +accomplish this; that I _can_ forget that I have loved you; that I _can_ +forget you? Cost what it will, the effort shall be made. Yet by our +former love, I charge you tell me what has wrought this change in you! +Why do you _now_ refuse me?" + +"I have said you are Sir Luke Rookwood," returned Sybil, with painful +emotion. "Does that name import nothing?" + +"Imports it aught of ill?" + +"To me, everything of ill. It is a fated house. Its line are all +predestined." + +"To what?" demanded Luke. + +"To _murder_!" replied Sybil, with solemn emphasis. "To the murder of +their wives. Forgive me, Luke, if I have dared to utter this. Yourself +compelled me to it." + +Amazement, horror, wrath, kept Luke silent for a few moments. Starting +to his feet, he cried: + +"And can you suspect me of a crime so foul? Think you, because I shall +assume the name, that I shall put on the nature likewise of my race? Do +you believe me capable of aught so horrible?" + +"Oh, no, I believe it not. I am sure you would not do it. Your soul +would reject with horror such a deed. But if Fate should guide your +hand, if the avenging spirit of your murdered ancestress should point to +the steel, you could not shun it then." + +"In Heaven's name! to what do you allude?" + +"To a tradition of your house," replied Sybil. "Listen to me, and you +shall hear the legend." And with a pathos that produced a thrilling +effect upon Luke, she sang the following ballad: + + THE LEGEND OF THE LADY OF ROOKWOOD + + Grim Ranulph home hath at midnight come, from the long wars of the + Roses, + And the squire, who waits at his ancient gates, a secret dark + discloses; + To that varlet's words no response accords his lord, but his visage + stern + Grows ghastly white in the wan moonlight, and his eyes like the lean + wolf's burn. + + To his lady's bower, at that lonesome hour, unannounced, is Sir + Ranulph gone; + Through the dim corridor, through the hidden door, he glides--she is + all alone! + Full of holy zeal doth his young dame kneel at the meek Madonna's feet, + Her hands are pressed on her gentle breast, and upturned is her aspect + sweet. + + Beats Ranulph's heart with a joyful start, as he looks on her + guiltless face; + And the raging fire of his jealous ire is subdued by the words of + grace; + His own name shares her murmured prayers--more freely can he breathe; + But ah! that look! Why doth he pluck his poniard from its sheath? + + On a footstool thrown, lies a costly gown of saye and of minevere + --A mantle fair for the dainty wear of a migniard cavalier,-- + And on it flung, to a bracelet hung, a picture meets his eye; + "By my father's head!" grim Ranulph said, "false wife, thy end draws + nigh." + + From off its chain hath the fierce knight ta'en that fond and fatal + pledge; + His dark eyes blaze, no word he says, thrice gleams his dagger's edge! + Her blood it drinks, and, as she sinks, his victim hears his cry: + "For kiss impure of paramour, adult'ress, dost thou die!" + + Silent he stood, with hands embrued in gore, and glance of flame, + As thus her plaint, in accents faint, made his ill-fated dame: + "Kind Heaven can tell, that all too well, I've loved thee, cruel lord; + But now with hate commensurate, assassin, thou'rt abhorred. + + "I've loved thee long, through doubt and wrong; I've loved thee and + no other; + And my love was pure for my paramour, for alas! he was my brother! + The Red, Red Rose, on _thy_ banner glows, on _his_ pennon gleams the + White, + And the bitter feud, that ye both have rued, forbids ye to unite. + + "My bower he sought, what time he thought thy jealous vassals slept, + Of joy we dreamed, and never deemed that watch those vassals kept; + An hour flew by, too speedily!--that picture was his boon: + Ah! little thrift to me that gift: he left me all too soon! + + "Wo worth the hour! dark fates did lower, when our hands were first + united, + For my heart's firm truth, 'mid tears and ruth, with death hast thou + requited: + In prayer sincere, full many a year of my wretched life I've spent; + But to hell's control would I give my soul to work thy chastisement!" + + These wild words said, low drooped her head, and Ranulph's + life-blood froze, + For the earth did gape, as an awful shape from out its depths arose: + "Thy prayer is heard, Hell hath concurred," cried the fiend, "thy + soul is mine! + Like fate may dread each dame shall wed with Ranulph or his line!" + + Within the tomb to await her doom is that hapless lady sleeping, + And another bride by Ranulph's side through the livelong night is + weeping. + _This_ dame declines--a third repines, and fades, like the rest, away; + Her lot she rues, whom a Rookwood woos--_cursed is her Wedding Day_! + +"And this is the legend of my ancestress?" said Luke, as Sybil's strains +were ended. + +"It is," replied she. + +"An idle tale," observed Luke, moodily. + +"Not so," answered Sybil. "Has not the curse of blood clung to all your +line? Has it not attached to your father--to Sir Reginald--Sir +Ralph--Sir Ranulph--to all? Which of them has escaped it? And when I +tell you this, dear Luke; when I find you bear the name of this accursed +race, can you wonder if I shudder at adding to the list of the victims +of that ruthless spirit, and that I tremble for you? I would die _for_ +you willingly--but not by your hand. I would not that my blood, which I +would now pour out for you as freely as water, should rise up in +judgment against you. For myself I have no tears--for _you_, a thousand. +My mother, upon her death-bed, told me I should never be yours. I +believed her not, for I was happy then. She said that we never should be +united; or, if united----?" + +"What, in Heaven's name?" + +"That you would be my destroyer. How could I credit her words then? How +can I doubt them now, when I find you are a Rookwood? And think not, +dear Luke, that I am ruled by selfish fears in this resolution. To +renounce you may cost me my life; but the deed will be my own. You may +call me superstitious, credulous: I have been nurtured in credulity. It +is the faith of my fathers. There are those, methinks, who have an +insight into futurity; and such boding words have been spoken, that, be +they true or false, I will not risk their fulfilment in my person. I may +be credulous; I may be weak; I may be erring; but I am steadfast in +this. Bid me perish at your feet, and I will do it. I will not be your +Fate. I will not be the wretched instrument of your perdition. I will +love, worship, watch, serve, perish for you--but I'll not wed you." + +Exhausted by the vehemence of her emotion, she would have sunk upon the +ground, had not Luke caught her in his arms. Pressing her to his bosom, +he renewed his passionate protestations. Every argument was unavailing. +Sybil appeared inflexible. + +"You love me as you have ever loved me?" said she, at length. + +"A thousand-fold more fervently," replied Luke; "put it to the test." + +"How if I dare to do so? Consider well: I may ask too much." + +"Name it. If it be not to surrender you, by my mother's body I will obey +you." + +"I would propose an oath." + +"Ha!" + +"A solemn, binding oath, that; if you wed me not, you will not wed +another. Ha! do you start? Have I appalled you?" + +"I start? I will take it. Hear me--by----" + +"Hold!" exclaimed a voice behind them. "Do not forswear yourself." And +immediately afterwards the sexton made his appearance. There was a +malignant smile upon his countenance. The lovers started at the ominous +interruption. + +"Begone!" cried Luke. + +"Take not that oath," said Peter, "and I leave you. Remember the counsel +I gave you on our way hither." + +"What counsel did he give you, Luke?" inquired Sybil, eagerly, of her +lover. + +"We spoke of you, fond girl," replied Peter. "I cautioned him against +the match. I knew not your sentiments, or I had spared myself the +trouble. You have judged wisely. Were he to wed you, ill would come of +it. But he _must_ wed another." + +"MUST!" cried Sybil, her eyes absolutely emitting sparkles of +indignation from their night-like depths; and, unsheathing as she spoke +the short poniard which she wore at her girdle, she rushed towards +Peter, raising her hand to strike. + +"_Must_ wed another! And dare you counsel this?" + +"Put up your dagger, fair maiden," said Peter, calmly. "Had I been +younger, your eyes might have had more terrors for me than your weapon; +as it is, I am proof against both. You would not strike an old man like +myself, and of your lover's kin?" + +Sybil's uplifted hand fell to her side. + +"'Tis true," continued the sexton, "I dared to give him this advice; and +when you have heard me out, you will not, I am persuaded, think me so +unreasonable as, at first, I may appear to be. I have been an unseen +listener to your converse; not that I desire to pry into your +secrets--far from it; I overheard you by accident. I applaud your +resolution; but if you are inclined to sacrifice all for your lover's +weal, do not let the work be incomplete. Bind him not by oaths which he +will regard as spiders' webs, to be burst through at pleasure. You see, +as well as I do, that he is bent on being lord of Rookwood; and, in +truth, to an aspiring mind, such a desire is natural, is praiseworthy. +It will be pleasant, as well as honorable, to efface the stain cast upon +his birth. It will be an act of filial duty in him to restore his +mother's good name; and I, her father, laud his anxiety on that score; +though, to speak truth, fair maid, I am not so rigid as your nice +moralists in my view of human nature, and can allow a latitude to love +which their nicer scruples will not admit. It will be a proud thing to +triumph over his implacable foe; and this he may accomplish----" + +"Without marriage," interrupted Sybil, angrily. + +"True," returned Peter; "yet not maintain it. May win it, but not wear +it. You have said truly, the house of Rookwood is a fated house; and it +hath been said likewise, that if he wed not one of his own kindred--that +if Rook mate not with Rook, his possessions shall pass away from his +hands. Listen to this prophetic quatrain: + + When the stray Rook shall perch on the topmost bough, + There shall be clamor and screeching, I trow; + But of right to, and rule of the ancient nest, + The Rook that with Rook mates shall hold him possest. + +You hear what these quaint rhymes say. Luke is, doubtless, the stray +rook, and a fledgeling hath flown hither from a distant country. He must +take her to his mate, or relinquish her and 'the ancient nest' to his +brother. For my own part, I disregard such sayings. I have little faith +in prophecy and divination. I know not what Eleanor Mowbray, for so she +is called, can have to do with the tenure of the estates of Rookwood. +But if Luke Rookwood, after he has lorded it for awhile in splendor, be +cast forth again in rags and wretchedness, let him not blame his +grandsire for his own want of caution." + +"Luke, I implore you, tell me," said Sybil, who had listened, +horror-stricken, to the sexton, shuddering, as it were, beneath the +chilly influence of his malevolent glance, "is this true? Does your fate +depend upon Eleanor Mowbray? Who is she? What has she to do with +Rookwood? Have you seen her? Do you love her?" + +"I have never seen her," replied Luke. + +"Thank Heaven for that!" cried Sybil. "Then you love her not?" + +"How were that possible?" returned Luke. "Do I not say I have not seen +her?" + +"Who is she, then?" + +"This old man tells me she is my cousin. She is betrothed to my brother +Ranulph." + +"How?" ejaculated Sybil. "And would you snatch his betrothed from your +brother's arms? Would you do him this grievous wrong? Is it not enough +that you must wrest from him that which he has long deemed his own? And +if he has falsely deemed it so, it will not make his loss the less +bitter. If you do thus wrong your brother, do not look for happiness; do +not look for respect; for neither will be your portion. Even this +stony-hearted old man shrinks aghast at such a deed. His snake-like eyes +are buried on the ground. See, I have moved even _him_." + +And in truth Peter did appear, for an instant, strangely moved. + +"'Tis nothing," returned he, mastering his emotion by a strong effort. +"What is all this to me? I never had a brother. I never had aught--wife, +child, or relative, that loved me. And I love not the world, nor the +things of the world, nor those that inhabit the world. But I know what +sways the world and its inhabitants; and that is, SELF! AND +SELF-INTEREST! Let Luke reflect on this. The key to Rookwood is Eleanor +Mowbray. The hand that grasps hers, grasps those lands; thus saith the +prophecy." + +"It is a lying prophecy." + +"It was uttered by one of your race." + +"By whom?" + +"By Barbara Lovel," said Peter, with a sneer of triumph. + +"Ha!" + +"Heed him not," exclaimed Luke, as Sybil recoiled at this intelligence. +"I am yours." + +"Not mine! not mine!" shrieked she; "but, oh! not _hers_!" + +"Whither go you?" cried Luke, as Sybil, half bewildered, tore herself +from him. + +"To Barbara Lovel." + +"I will go with you." + +"No! let me go alone. I have much to ask her; yet tarry not with this +old man, dear Luke, or close your ears to his crafty talk. Avoid him. +Oh, I am sick at heart. Follow me not; I implore you, follow me not." + +And with distracted air she darted amongst the mouldering cloisters, +leaving Luke stupefied with anguish and surprise. The sexton maintained +a stern and stoical composure. + +"She is a woman, after all," muttered he; "all her high-flown resolves +melt like snow in the sunshine at the thought of a rival. I congratulate +you, grandson Luke; you are free from your fetters." + +"Free!" echoed Luke. "Quit my sight; I loathe to look upon you. You have +broken the truest heart that ever beat in woman's bosom." + +"Tut, tut," returned Peter; "it is not broken yet. Wait till we hear +what old Barbara has got to say; and, meanwhile, we must arrange with +Dick Turpin the price of that certificate. The knave knows its value +well. Come, be a man. This is worse than womanish." + +And at length he succeeded, half by force and half by persuasion, in +dragging Luke away with him. + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_BARBARA LOVEL_ + + Los Gitanos son encantadores, adivinos, magos, chyromanticos, que + dicen por las rayas de las manos lo Futuro, que ellos llaman + Buenaventura, y generalmente son dados toda supersticion. + + DOCTOR SANCHO DE MONCADA. + _Discurso sobre Espulsion de los Gitanos._ + + +Like a dove escaped from the talons of the falcon, Sybil fled from the +clutches of the sexton. Her brain was in a whirl, her blood on fire. She +had no distinct perception of external objects; no definite notion of +what she herself was about to do, and glided more like a flitting spirit +than a living woman along the ruined ambulatory. Her hair had fallen in +disorder over her face. She stayed not to adjust it, but tossed aside +the blinding locks with frantic impatience. She felt as one may feel who +tries to strain his nerves, shattered by illness, to the endurance of +some dreadful, yet necessary pain. + +Sybil loved her granddame, old Barbara; but it was with a love tempered +by fear. Barbara was not a person to inspire esteem or to claim +affection. She was regarded by the wild tribe which she ruled as their +queen-elect, with some such feeling of inexplicable awe as is +entertained by the African slave for the Obeah woman. They acknowledged +her power, unhesitatingly obeyed her commands, and shrank with terror +from her anathema, which was indeed seldom pronounced; but when uttered, +was considered as doom. Her tribe she looked upon as her flock, and +stretched her maternal hand over all, ready alike to cherish or +chastise; and having already survived a generation, that which +succeeded, having from infancy imbibed a superstitious veneration for +the "cunning woman," as she was called, the sentiment could never be +wholly effaced. Winding her way, she knew not how, through roofless +halls, over disjointed fragments of fallen pillars, Sybil reached a +flight of steps. A door, studded with iron nails, stayed her progress; +it was an old, strong oaken frame, surmounted by a Gothic arch, in the +keystone of which leered one of those grotesque demoniacal faces with +which the fathers of the church delighted to adorn their shrines. Sybil +looked up--her glance encountered the fantastical visage. It recalled +the features of the sexton, and seemed to mock her--to revile her. Her +fortitude at once deserted her. Her fingers were upon the handle of the +door. She hesitated: she even drew back, with the intention of +departing, for she felt then that she dared not face Barbara. It was too +late--she had moved the handle. A deep voice from within called to her +by name. She dared not disobey that call--she entered. + +The room in which Sybil found herself was the only entire apartment now +existing in the priory. It had survived the ravages of time; it had +escaped the devastation of man, whose ravages outstrip those of time. +Octagonal, lofty, yet narrow, you saw at once that it formed the +interior of a turret. It was lighted by a small oriel window, commanding +a lovely view of the scenery around, and paneled with oak, richly +wrought in ribs and groins; and from overhead depended a molded ceiling +of honeycomb plaster-work. This room had something, even now, in the +days of its desecration, of monastic beauty about it. Where the odor of +sanctity had breathed forth, the fumes of idolatry prevailed; but +imagination, ever on the wing, flew back to that period--and a tradition +to that effect warranted the supposition--when, perchance, it had been +the sanctuary and the privacy of the prior's self. + +Wrapped in a cloak composed of the skins of various animals, upon a low +pallet, covered with stained scarlet cloth, sat Barbara. Around her head +was coiffed, in folds like those of an Asiatic turban, a rich, though +faded shawl, and her waist was encircled with the magic zodiacal +zone--proper to the sorceress--the _Mago Cineo_ of the Cingara--whence +the name Zingaro, according to Moncada--which Barbara had brought from +Spain. From her ears depended long golden drops, of curious antique +fashioning; and upon her withered fingers, which looked like a coil of +lizards, were hooped a multitude of silver rings, of the purest and +simplest manufacture. They seemed almost of massive unwrought metal. Her +skin was yellow as the body of a toad; corrugated as its back. She might +have been steeped in saffron from her finger tips, the nails of which +were of the same hue, to such portions of her neck as were visible, and +which was puckered up like the throat of a turtle. To look at her, one +might have thought the embalmer had experimented her art upon herself. +So dead, so bloodless, so blackened seemed the flesh, where flesh +remained, leather could scarce be tougher than her skin. She seemed like +an animated mummy. A frame so tanned, appeared calculated to endure for +ages; and, perhaps, might have done so. But, alas! the soul cannot be +embalmed. No oil can re-illumine that precious lamp! And that Barbara's +vital spark was fast waning, was evident from her heavy, blood-shot +eyes, once of a swimming black, and lengthy as a witch's, which were now +sinister and sunken. + +The atmosphere of the room was as strongly impregnated as a museum with +volatile odors, emitted from the stores of drugs with which the shelves +were loaded, as well as from various stuffed specimens of birds and wild +animals. Barbara's only living companion was a monstrous owl, which, +perched over the old gipsy's head, hissed a token of recognition as +Sybil advanced. From a hook, placed in the plaster roof, was suspended a +globe of crystal glass, about the size and shape of a large gourd, +filled with a pure pellucid liquid, in which a small snake, the Egyptian +aspic, described perpetual gyrations. + +Dim were the eyes of Barbara, yet not altogether sightless. The troubled +demeanor of her grandchild struck her as she entered. She felt the hot +drops upon her hand as Sybil stooped to kiss it; she heard her +vainly-stifled sobs. + +"What ails you, child?" said Barbara, in a voice that rattled in her +throat, and hollow as the articulation of a phantom. "Have you heard +tidings of Luke Bradley? Has any ill befallen him? I said you would +either hear of him or see him this morning. He is not returned, I see. +What have you heard?" + +"He _is_ returned," replied Sybil, faintly; "and no ill hath happened to +him." + +"He _is_ returned, and you are here," echoed Barbara. "No ill hath +happened to _him_, thou sayest--am I to understand there is--to _you_?" + +Sybil answered not. She could not answer. + +"I see, I see," said Barbara, more gently, her head and hand shaking +with paralytic affection: "a quarrel, a lover's quarrel. Old as I am, I +have not forgotten my feelings as a girl. What woman ever does, if she +be woman? and you, like your poor mother, are a true-hearted wench. She +loved her husband, as a husband should be loved, Sybil; and though she +loved me well, she loved him better, as was right. Ah! it was a bitter +day when she left me for Spain; for though, to one of our wandering +race, all countries are alike, yet the soil of our birth is dear to us, +and the presence of our kindred dearer. Well, well, I will not think of +that. She is gone. Nay, take it not so to heart, wench. Luke has a hasty +temper. 'Tis not the first time I have told you so. He will not bear +rebuke, and you have questioned him too shrewdly touching his absence. +Is it not so? Heed it not. Trust me, you will have him seek your +forgiveness ere the shadows shorten 'neath the noontide sun." + +"Alas! alas!" said Sybil, sadly, "this is no lover's quarrel, which may, +at once, be forgotten and forgiven--would it were so!" + +"What is it, then?" asked Barbara; and without waiting Sybil's answer, +she continued, with vehemence, "has he wronged you? Tell me, girl, in +what way? Speak, that I may avenge you, if your wrong requires revenge. +Are you blood of mine, and think I will not do this for you, girl? None +of the blood of Barbara Lovel were ever unrevenged. When Richard Cooper +stabbed my first-born, Francis, he fled to Flanders to escape my wrath. +But he did not escape it. I pursued him thither. I hunted him out; drove +him back to his own country, and brought him to the gallows. It took a +power of gold. What matter? Revenge is dearer than gold. And as it was +with Richard Cooper, so it shall be with Luke Bradley. I will catch him, +though he run. I will trip him, though he leap. I will reach him, though +he flee afar. I will drag him hither by the hair of his head," added +she, with a livid smile, and clutching at the air with her hands, as if +in the act of pulling some one towards her. "He shall wed you within the +hour, if you will have it, or if your honor need that it should be so. +My power is not departed from me. My people are yet at my command. I am +still their queen, and woe to him that offendeth me!" + +"Mother! mother!" cried Sybil, affrighted at the storm she had +unwittingly aroused, "he has not injured me. 'Tis I alone who am to +blame, not Luke." + +"You speak in mysteries," said Barbara. + +"Sir Piers Rookwood is dead." + +"Dead!" echoed Barbara, letting fall her hazel rod. "Sir Piers dead!" + +"And Luke Bradley----" + +"Ha!" + +"Is his successor." + +"Who told you that?" asked Barbara, with increased astonishment. + +"Luke himself. All is disclosed." And Sybil hastily recounted Luke's +adventures. "He is now Sir Luke Rookwood." + +"This is news, in truth," said Barbara; "yet not news to weep for. You +should rejoice, not lament. Well, well, I foresaw it. I shall live to +see all accomplished; to see my Agatha's child ennobled; to see her +wedded; ay, to see her well wedded." + +"Dearest mother!" + +"I can endow you, and I will do it. You shall bring your husband not +alone beauty, you shall bring him wealth." + +"But, mother----" + +"My Agatha's daughter shall be Lady Rookwood." + +"Never! It cannot be." + +"What cannot be?" + +"The match you now propose." + +"What mean you, silly wench? Ha! I perceive the meaning of those tears. +The truth flashes upon me. He has discarded you." + +"No, by the Heaven of Heavens, he is still the same--unaltered in +affection." + +"If so, your tears are out of place." + +"Mother, it is not fitting that I, a gipsy born, should wed with him." + +"Not fitting! Ha! and you my child! Not fitting! Get up, or I will spurn +you. Not fitting! This from you to me! I tell you it _is_ fitting; you +shall have a dower as ample as that of any lady in the land. Not +fitting! Do you say so, because you think that he derives himself from a +proud and ancient line--ancient and proud--ha, ha! I tell you, girl, +that for his one ancestor I can number twenty; for the years in which +his lineage hath flourished, my race can boast centuries, and was a +people--a kingdom!--ere the land in which he dwells was known. What! if, +by the curse of Heaven, we were driven forth, the curse of hell rests +upon his house." + +"I know it," said Sybil; "a dreadful curse, which, if I wed him, will +alight on me." + +"No; not on you; you shall avoid that curse. I know a means to satisfy +the avenger. Leave that to me." + +"I dare not, as it never can be; yet, tell me--you saw the body of +Luke's ill-fated mother. Was she poisoned? Nay, you may speak. Sir +Piers's death releases you from your oath. How died she?" + +"By strangulation," said the old gipsy, raising her palsied hand to her +throat. + +"Oh!" cried Sybil, gasping with horror. "Was there a ring upon her +finger when you embalmed the body?" + +"A ring--a wedding-ring! The finger was crookened. Listen, girl, I could +have told Luke the secret of his birth long ago, but the oath imposed by +Sir Piers sealed fast my lips. His mother was wedded to Sir Piers; his +mother was murdered by Sir Piers. Luke was entrusted to my care by his +father. I have brought him up with you. I have affianced you together; +and I shall live to see you united. He is now Sir Luke. He is your +husband." + +"Do not deceive yourself, mother," said Sybil, with a fearful +earnestness. "He is not yet Sir Luke Rookwood; would he had no claim to +be so! The fortune that has hitherto been so propitious may yet desert +him. Bethink you of a prophecy you uttered." + +"A prophecy? Ha!" + +And with slow enunciation Sybil pronounced the mystic words which she +had heard repeated by the sexton. + +As she spoke, a gloom, like that of a thunder-cloud, began to gather +over the brow of the old gipsy. The orbs of her sunken eyes expanded, +and wrath supplied her frame with vigor. She arose. + +"Who told you that?" cried Barbara. + +"Luke's grandsire, Peter Bradley." + +"How learnt he it?" said Barbara. "It was to one who hath long been in +his grave I told it; so long ago, it had passed from my memory. 'Tis +strange! old Sir Reginald had a brother, I know. But there is no other +of the house." + +"There is a cousin, Eleanor Mowbray." + +"Ha! I see; a daughter of that Eleanor Rookwood who fled from her +father's roof. Fool, fool. Am I caught in my own toils? Those words were +words of truth and power, and compel the future and 'the will be' as +with chains of brass. They must be fulfilled, yet not by Ranulph. He +shall never wed Eleanor." + +"Whom then shall she wed?" + +"His elder brother." + +"Mother!" shrieked Sybil. "Do you say so? Oh! recall your words." + +"I may not; it is spoken. Luke shall wed her." + +"Oh God, support me!" exclaimed Sybil. + +"Silly wench, be firm. It must be as I say. He shall wed her--yet shall +he wed her not. The nuptial torch shall be quenched as soon as lighted; +the curse of the avenger shall fall--yet not on thee." + +"Mother," said Sybil, "if sin must fall upon some innocent head, let it +be on mine--not upon hers. I love him, I would gladly die for him. She +is young--unoffending--perhaps happy. Oh! do not let her perish." + +"Peace, I say!" cried Barbara, "and mark me. This is your birthday. +Eighteen summers have flown over your young head--eighty winters have +sown their snows on mine. _You_ have yet to learn. Years have brought +wrinkles--they have brought wisdom likewise. To struggle with Fate, I +tell you, is to wrestle with Omnipotence. We may foresee, but not avert +our destiny. What will be, shall be. This is your eighteenth birthday, +Sybil: it is a day of fate to you; in it occurs your planetary hour--an +hour of good or ill, according to your actions. I have cast your +horoscope. I have watched your natal star; it is under the baleful +influence of Scorpion, and fiery Saturn sheds his lurid glance upon it. +Let me see your hand. The line of life is drawn out distinct and +clear--it runs--ha! what means that intersection? Beware--beware, my +Sybil. Act as I tell you, and you are safe. I will make another trial, +by the crystal bowl. Attend." + +Muttering some strange words, sounding like a spell, Barbara, with the +bifurcate hazel staff which she used as a divining-rod, described a +circle upon the floor. Within this circle she drew other lines, from +angle to angle, forming seven triangles, the bases of which constituted +the sides of a septilateral figure. This figure she studied intently for +a few moments. She then raised her wand and touched the owl with it. The +bird unfolded its wings, and arose in flight; then slowly circled round +the pendulous globe. Each time it drew nearer, until at length it +touched the glassy bowl with its flapping pinions. + +"Enough!" ejaculated Barbara. And at another motion from her rod the +bird stayed its flight and returned to its perch. + +Barbara arose. She struck the globe with her staff. The pure lymph +became instantly tinged with crimson, as if blood had been commingled +with it. The little serpent could be seen within, coiled up and knotted, +as in the struggles of death. + +"Again I say, beware!" ejaculated Barbara, solemnly. "This is ominous of +ill." + +Sybil had sunk, from faintness, on the pallet. A knock was heard at the +door. + +"Who is without?" cried Barbara. + +"'Tis I, Balthazar," replied a voice. + +"Thou mayest enter," answered Barbara; and an old man with a long beard, +white as snow, reaching to his girdle, and a costume which might be said +to resemble the raiment of a Jewish high priest, made his appearance. +This venerable personage was no other than the patrico, or hierophant of +the Canting Crew. + +"I come to tell you that there are strangers--ladies--within the +priory," said the patrico, gravely. "I have searched for you in vain," +continued he, addressing Sybil; "the younger of them seems to need your +assistance." + +"Whence come they?" exclaimed Barbara. + +"They have ridden, I understand, from Rookwood," answered the patrico. +"They were on their way to Davenham, when they were prevented." + +"From Rookwood?" echoed Sybil. "Their names--did you hear their names?" + +"Mowbray is the name of both; they are a mother and a daughter; the +younger is called----" + +"Eleanor?" asked Sybil, with an acute foreboding of calamity. + +"Eleanor is the name, assuredly," replied the patrico, somewhat +surprised. "I heard the elder, whom I guess to be her mother, so address +her." + +"Gracious God! She here!" exclaimed Sybil. + +"Here! Eleanor Mowbray here," cried Barbara; "within my power. Not a +moment is to be lost. Balthazar, hasten round the tents--not a man must +leave his place--above all, Luke Bradley. See that these Mowbrays are +detained within the abbey. Let the bell be sounded. Quick, quick; leave +this wench to me; she is not well. I have much to do. Away with thee, +man, and let me know when thou hast done it." And as Balthazar departed +on his mission, with a glance of triumph in her eyes, Barbara exclaimed, +"Soh, no sooner hath the thought possessed me, than the means of +accomplishment appear. It shall be done at once. I will tie the knot. I +will untie, and then retie it. This weak wench must be nerved to the +task," added she, regarding the senseless form of Sybil. "Here is that +will stimulate her," opening the cupboard, and taking a small phial; +"this will fortify her; and this," continued she, with a ghastly smile, +laying her hand upon another vessel, "this shall remove her rival when +all is fulfilled; this liquid shall constrain her lover to be her +titled, landed husband. Ha, ha!" + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_THE INAUGURATION_ + + _Beggar._ Concert, sir! we have musicians, too, among us. True, + merry beggars, indeed, that, being within the reach of the lash for + singing libellous songs at London, were fain to fly into one cover, + and here they sing all our poets' ditties. They can sing anything, + most tunably, sir, but psalms. What they may do hereafter, under a + triple tree, is much expected; but they live very civilly and + genteelly among us. + + _Spring._ But what is here--that solemn old fellow, that neither + speaks of himself, or any for him? + + _Beggar._ O, sir, the rarest man of all: he is a prophet. See how he + holds up his prognosticating nose. He is divining now. + + _Spring._ How, a prophet? + + _Beggar._ Yes, sir; a cunning man, and a fortune-teller; a very + ancient stroller all the world over, and has travelled with gipsies: + and is a patrico. + + _The Merry Beggars._ + + +In consequence of some few words which the sexton let fall in the +presence of the attendants, during breakfast, more perhaps by design +than accident, it was speedily rumored throughout the camp that the +redoubted Richard Turpin was for the time its inmate. This intelligence +produced some such sensation as is experienced by the inhabitants of a +petty town on the sudden arrival of a prince of the blood, a +commander-in-chief, or other illustrious and distinguished personage, +whose fame has been vaunted abroad amongst his fellowmen by Rumor, "and +her thousand tongues;" and who, like our highwayman, has rendered +himself sufficiently notorious to be an object of admiration and +emulation amongst his contemporaries. + +All started up at the news. The upright man, the chief of the crew, +arose from his chair, donned his gown of state, a very ancient brocade +dressing-gown, filched, most probably, from the wardrobe of some +strolling player, grasped his baton of office, a stout oaken truncheon, +and sallied forth. The ruffler, who found his representative in a very +magnificently equipped, and by no means ill-favored knave, whose chin +was decorated with a beard as lengthy and as black as Sultan Mahmoud's, +together with the dexterous hooker, issued forth from the hovel which +they termed their boozing ken, eager to catch a glimpse of the prince of +the high-tobygloaks. The limping palliard tore the bandages from his +mock wounds, shouldered his crutch, and trudged hastily after them. The +whip-jack unbuckled his strap, threw away his timber leg, and "leapt +exulting, like the bounding roe." "With such a sail in sight," he said, +"he must heave to, like the rest." The dummerar, whose tongue had been +cut out by the Algerines, suddenly found the use of it, and made the +welkin ring with his shouts. Wonderful were the miracles Dick's advent +wrought. The lame became suddenly active, the blind saw, the dumb spoke; +nay, if truth must be told, absolutely gave utterance to "most +vernacular execrations." Morts, autem morts, walking morts, dells, +doxies, kinching morts, and their coes, with all the shades and grades +of the Canting Crew, were assembled. There were, to use the words of +Brome-- + + ----Stark, errant, downright beggars. Ay, + Without equivocation, statute beggars, + Couchant and passant, guardant, rampant beggars; + Current and vagrant, stockant, whippant beggars![25] + +Each sunburnt varlet started from his shed; each dusky dame, with her +brown, half-naked urchins, followed at his heels; each "ripe young +maiden, with the glossy eye," lingered but to sleek her raven tresses, +and to arrange her straw bonnet, and then overtook the others; each +wrinkled beldame hobbled as quickly after as her stiffened joints would +permit; while the ancient patrico, the priest of the crew--who joined +the couples together by the hedge-side, "with the nice custom of dead +horse between"[26]--brought up the rear; all bent on one grand object, +that of having a peep at the "foremost man of all this prigging world!" + +Dick Turpin, at the period of which we treat, was in the zenith of his +reputation. His deeds were full blown; his exploits were in every man's +mouth; and a heavy price was set upon his head. That he should show +himself thus openly, where he might be so easily betrayed, excited no +little surprise among the craftiest of the crew, and augured an excess +of temerity on his part. Rash daring was the main feature of Turpin's +character. Like our great Nelson, he knew fear only by name; and when he +thus trusted himself in the hands of strangers, confident in himself and +in his own resources, he felt perfectly easy as to the result. He relied +also in the continuance of his good fortune, which had as yet never +deserted him. Possessed of the belief that his hour was not yet come, he +cared little or nothing for any risk he might incur; and though he +might, undoubtedly, have some presentiment of the probable termination +of his career, he never suffered it to militate against his present +enjoyment, which proved that he was no despicable philosopher. + +Turpin was the _ultimus Romanorum_, the last of a race, which--we were +almost about to say we regret--is now altogether extinct. Several +successors he had, it is true, but no name worthy to be recorded after +his own. With him expired the chivalrous spirit which animated +successively the bosoms of so many knights of the road; with him died +away that passionate love of enterprise, that high spirit of devotion to +the fair sex, which was first breathed upon the highway by the gay, +gallant Claude Du-Val, the Bayard of the road--_Le filou sans peur et +sans reproche_--but which was extinguished at last by the cord that tied +the heroic Turpin to the remorseless tree. It were a subject well worthy +of inquiry, to trace this decline and fall of the empire of the tobymen +to its remoter causes; to ascertain the why and the wherefore, that with +so many half-pay captains; so many poor curates; so many lieutenants, of +both services, without hopes of promotion; so many penny-a-liners, and +fashionable novelists; so many damned dramatists, and damning critics; +so many Edinburgh and Quarterly Reviewers; so many detrimental brothers, +and younger sons; when there are horses to be hired, pistols to be +borrowed, purses to be taken, and mails are as plentiful as +partridges--it were worth serious investigation, we repeat, to ascertain +why, with the best material imaginable for a new race of highwaymen, we +have none, not even an amateur. Why do not some of these choice spirits +quit the _salons_ of Pall-Mall, and take to the road? the air of the +heath is more bracing and wholesome, we should conceive, than that of +any "hell" whatever, and the chances of success incomparably greater. We +throw out this hint, without a doubt of seeing it followed up. Probably +the solution of our inquiry may be, that the supply is greater than the +demand; that, in the present state of things, embryo highwaymen may be +more abundant than purses; and then, have we not the horse-patrol? With +such an admirably-organized system of conservation, it is vain to +anticipate a change. The highwaymen, we fear, like their Irish brothers, +the Rapparees, went out with the Tories. They were averse to reform, and +eschewed emancipation. + +Lest any one should think we have overrated the pleasures of the +highwayman's existence, they shall hear what "the right villainous" Jack +Hall, a celebrated tobyman of his day, has got to say on the subject. +"His life--the highwayman's--has, generally, the most mirth and the +least care in it of any man's breathing, and all he deals for is clear +profit: he has that point of good conscience, that he always sells as +he buys, a good pennyworth, which is something rare, since he trades +with so small a stock. The _fence_[27] and he are like the devil and the +doctor, they live by one another; and, like traitors, 'tis best to keep +each other's counsel. He has this point of honesty, that he never robs +the house he frequents"--Turpin had the same scruples respecting the +Hall of Rookwood in Sir Piers's lifetime--; "and perhaps pays his debts +better than some others, for he holds it below the dignity of his +employment to commit so ungenteel a crime as insolvency, and loves to +pay nobly. He has another quality, not much amiss, that he takes no more +than he has occasion for"--Jack, we think, was a little mistaken here--; +"which he verifies this way: he craves no more while that lasts. He is a +less nuisance in a commonwealth than a miser, because the money he +engrosses all circulates again, which the other hoards as though 'twere +only to be found again at the day of judgment. He is the tithe-pig of +his family, which the gallows, instead of the parson, claims as its due. +He has reason enough to be bold in his undertakings, for, though all the +world threaten him, he stands in fear of but one man in it, and that's +the hangman; and with him, too, he is generally in fee: however, I +cannot affirm he is so valiant that he dares look any man in the face, +for in that point he is now and then, a little modest. Newgate may be +said to be his country-house, where he frequently lives so many months +in the year; and he is not so much concerned to be carried thither for a +small matter, if 'twere only for the benefit of renewing his +acquaintance there. He holds a petit larceny as light as a nun does +auricular confession, though the priest has a more compassionate +character than the hangman. Every man in this community is esteemed +according to his particular quality, of which there are several degrees, +though it is contrary often to public government; for here a man shall +be valued purely for his merit, and rise by it too, though it be but to +a halter, in which there is a great deal of glory in dying like a hero, +and making a decent figure in the cart to the last two staves of the +fifty-first psalm."[28] + +This, we repeat, is the plain statement of a practical man, and again we +throw out the hint for adoption. All we regret is, that we are now +degenerated from the grand tobyman to the cracksman and the sneak, about +whom there are no redeeming features. How much lower the next generation +of thieves will dive it boots not to conjecture: + + tas parentum pejor avis tulit, + Nos nequiores; mox daturos, + Progeniem vitiosiorem. + +"Cervantes laughed Spain's chivalry away," sang Byron; and if Gay did +not extinguish the failing flame of our _night_ errantry--unlike the +"Robbers" of Schiller, which is said to have inflamed the Saxon youth +with an irrepressible mania for brigandage--, the "Beggar's Opera" +helped not to fan the dying fire. That laugh was fatal, as laughs +generally are. Macheath gave the highwayman his _coup de grce_. + +The last of this race--for we must persist in maintaining that he _was_ +the last--, Turpin, like the setting sun, threw up some parting rays of +glory, and tinged the far highways with a luster that may yet be traced +like a cloud of dust raised by his horse's retreating heels. Unequalled +in the command of his steed, the most singular feat that the whole race +of the annals of horsemanship has to record, and of which we may have +more to say hereafter, was achieved by him. So perfect was his +jockeyship, so clever his management of the animal he mounted, so +intimately acquainted was he with every cross-road in the neighborhood +of the metropolis--a book of which he constructed, and carried +constantly about his person--, as well as with many other parts of +England, particularly the counties of Chester, York, and Lancaster, that +he outstripped every pursuer, and baffled all attempts at capture. His +reckless daring, his restless rapidity--for so suddenly did he change +his ground, and renew his attacks in other quarters, that he seemed to +be endowed with ubiquity,--his bravery, his resolution, and, above all, +his generosity, won for him a high reputation amongst his compatriots, +and even elicited applauses from those upon whom he levied his +contributions. + +Beyond dispute, he ruled as master of the road. His hands were, as yet, +unstained with blood; he was ever prompt to check the disposition to +outrage, and to prevent, as much as lay in his power, the commission of +violence by his associates. Of late, since he had possessed himself of +his favorite mare, Black Bess, his robberies had been perpetrated with a +suddenness of succession, and at distances so apparently impracticable, +that the idea of all having been executed by one man, was rejected as an +impossibility; and the only way of reconciling the description of the +horse and rider, which tallied in each instance, was the supposition +that these attacks were performed by confederates similarly mounted and +similarly accoutred. + +There was, in all this, as much of the "_fam sacra fames_" as of the +"_auri_;" of the hungering after distinction, as well as of the appetite +of gain. Enamored of his vocation, Turpin delighted to hear himself +designated as the Flying Highwayman; and it was with rapturous triumph +that he found his single-handed feats attributed to a band of marauders. +But this state of things could not long endure; his secret was blown; +the vigilance of the police was aroused; he was tracked to his haunts; +and, after a number of hairbreadth 'scapes, which he only effected by +miracle, or by the aid of his wonder-working mare, he reluctantly +quitted the heathy hills of Bagshot, the Pampas plains of Hounslow--over +which like an archetype of the galloping Sir Francis Head, he had so +often scoured,--the gorsy commons of Highgate, Hampstead, and Finchley, +the marshy fields of Battersea, almost all of which he had been known to +visit in a single night, and leaving these beaten tracks to the +occupation of younger and less practised hands, he bequeathed to them, +at the same time, his own reversionary interest in the gibbets thereupon +erected, and betook himself to the country. + +After a journey of more or less success, our adventurer found himself at +Rookwood, whither he had been invited after a grand field-day by its +hospitable and by no means inquisitive owner. Breach of faith and good +fellowship formed no part of Turpin's character; he had his lights as +well as his shades; and as long as Sir Piers lived, his purse and +coffers would have been free from molestation, except, "so far," Dick +said, "as a cog or two of dice went. My dice, you know, are longs for +odd and even, a bale of bar'd cinque deuces," a pattern of which he +always carried with him; beyond this, excepting a take-in at a steeple +chase, Rookwood church being the mark, a "do" at a leap, or some such +trifle, to which the most scrupulous could not raise an objection, Dick +was all fair and above-board. But when poor Sir Piers had "put on his +wooden surtout," to use Dick's own expressive metaphor, his +conscientious scruples evaporated into thin air. Lady Rookwood was +nothing to him; there was excellent booty to be appropriated-- + + The wise _convey_ it call. + +He began to look about for hands; and having accidentally encountered +his old comrades, Rust and Wilder, they were let into the business, +which was imperfectly accomplished in the manner heretofore described. + +To return from this digression. When Turpin presented himself at the +threshold of the door, on his way to inquire after his mare, to his +astonishment he found it closely invested. A cheering shout from the +tawny throng, succeeded by a general clapping of hands, and attended by +a buzzing susurration of applause, such as welcomes the entrance of a +popular actor upon the stage, greeted the appearance of the highwayman. +At the first sight of the crowd he was a little startled, and +involuntarily sought for his pistols. But the demonstrations of +admiration were too unequivocal to be for a moment mistaken; his hand +was drawn from his pocket to raise his hat from his brow. + +Thunders of applause. + +Turpin's external man, we have before said, was singularly +prepossessing. It was especially so in the eyes of _the_ sex--fair we +certainly cannot say upon the present occasion--, amongst whom not a +single dissentient voice was to be heard. All concurred in thinking him +a fine fellow; could plainly read his high courage in his bearing; his +good breeding in his dbonnaire deportment; and his manly beauty in his +extravagant red whiskers. Dick saw the effect that he produced. He was +at home in a moment. Your true highwayman has ever a passion for effect. +This does not desert him at the gallows; it rises superior to death +itself, and has been known to influence the manner of his dangling from +the gibbet! To hear some one cry, "There goes a proper handsome man," +saith our previously quoted authority, Jack Hall, "somewhat ameliorates +the terrible thoughts of the meagre tyrant death; and to go in a dirty +shirt were enough to save the hangman a labor, and make a man die with +grief and shame at being in that deplorable condition." With a gracious +smile of condescension, like a popular orator--with a look of blarney +like that of O'Connell, and of assurance like that of Hume--he surveyed +the male portion of the spectators, tipped a knowing wink at the +prettiest brunettes he could select, and finally cut a sort of fling +with his well-booted legs, that brought down another appeal of rapturous +applause. + +"A rank scamp!"[29] cried the upright man; and this exclamation, however +equivocal it may sound, was intended, on his part, to be highly +complimentary. + +"I believe ye," returned the ruffler, stroking his chin--"one may see +that he's no half swell by the care with which he cultivates the best +gifts of nature, his whiskers. He's a rank nib."[30] + +"Togged out to the ruffian, no doubt," said the palliard, who was +incomparably the shabbiest rascal in the corps. "Though a needy mizzler +mysel, I likes to see a cove vot's vel dressed. Jist twig his swell +kickseys and pipes;[31] if they ain't the thing, I'm done. Lame Harry +can't dance better nor he--no, nor Jerry Juniper neither." + +"I'm dumb founded," roared the dummerar, "if he can't patter romany[32] +as vel as the best on us! He looks like a rum 'un." + +"And a rum 'un he be, take my word for it," returned the whip-jack, or +sham sailor. "Look at his rigging--see how he flashes his +sticks[33]--those are the tools to rake a three-decker. He's as clever a +craft as I've seen this many a day, or I'm no judge." + +The women were equally enchanted--equally eloquent in the expression of +their admiration. + +"What ogles!" cried a mort. + +"What pins!" said an autem mort, or married woman. + +"Sharp as needles," said a dark-eyed dell, who had encountered one of +the free and frolicsome glances which our highwayman distributed so +liberally among the petticoats. + +It was at this crisis Dick took off his hat. Csar betrayed his +baldness. + +"A thousand pities!" cried the men, compassionating his thinly covered +skull, and twisting their own ringlets, glossy and luxuriant, though +unconscious of Macassar. "A thousand pities that so fine a fellow should +have a sconce like a cocoanut!" + +"But then his red whiskers," rejoined the women, tired of the uniformity +of thick black heads of hair; "what a warmth of coloring they impart to +his face; and then only look how beautifully bushy they make his cheeks +appear!" + +La Fosseuse and the court of the Queen of Navarre were not more smitten +with the Sieur de Croix's jolly pair of whiskers. + +The hawk's eye of Turpin ranged over the whole assemblage. Amidst that +throng of dark faces there was not one familiar to him. + +Before him stood the upright man, Zoroaster--so was he called--, a +sturdy, stalwart rogue, whose superior strength and stature--as has not +unfrequently been the case in the infancy of governments that have risen +to more importance than is likely to be the case with that of Lesser +Egypt--had been the means of his elevation to his present dignified +position. Zoroaster literally _fought_ his way upwards, and had at first +to maintain his situation by the strong arm; but he now was enabled to +repose upon his hard-won laurels, to smoke "the calumet of peace," and +quaff his tipple with impunity. For one of gipsy blood, he presented an +unusually jovial, liquor-loving countenance: his eye was mirthful; his +lip moist, as if from oft potations; his cheek mellow as an Orleans +plum, which fruit, in color and texture, it mightily resembled. Strange +to say, also, for one of that lithe race, his person was heavy and +hebetudinous; the consequence, no doubt, of habitual intemperance. Like +Cribb, he waxed obese upon the championship. There was a kind of mock +state in his carriage, as he placed himself before Turpin, and with his +left hand twisted up the tail of his dressing-gown, while the right +thrust his truncheon into his hip, which was infinitely diverting to the +highwayman. + +Turpin's attention, however, was chiefly directed towards his neighbor, +the ruffler, in whom he recognized a famous impostor of the day, with +whose history he was sufficiently well acquainted to be able at once to +identify the individual. We have before stated, that a magnificent +coal-black beard decorated the chin of this worthy; but this was not +all--his costume was in perfect keeping with his beard, and consisted of +a very theatrical-looking tunic, upon the breast of which was +embroidered, in golden wire, the Maltese cross; while over his shoulders +were thrown the folds of an ample cloak of Tyrian hue. To his side was +girt a long and doughty sword, which he termed, in his knightly phrase, +Excalibur; and upon his profuse hair rested a hat as broad in the brim +as a Spanish sombrero. + +Exaggerated as this description may appear, we can assure our readers +that it is not overdrawn; and that a counterpart of the sketch we have +given of the ruffler certainly "strutted his hour" upon the stage of +human life, and that the very ancient and discriminating city of +Canterbury--to which be all honor--was his theatre of action. His +history is so far curious, that it exemplifies, more strongly than a +thousand discourses could do, how prone we are to be governed by +appearances, and how easily we may be made the dupes of a plausible +impostor. Be it remembered, however, that we treat of the eighteenth +century, before the march of intellect had commenced; we are much too +knowing to be similarly practised upon in these enlightened times. But +we will let the knight of Malta, for such was the title assumed by the +ruffler, tell his own story in his own way hereafter; contenting +ourselves with the moral precepts we have already deduced from it. + +Next to the knight of Malta stood the whip-jack, habited in his sailor +gear--striped shirt and dirty canvas trousers; and adjoining him was the +palliard, a loathsome tatterdemalion, his dress one heap of rags, and +his discolored skin one mass of artificial leprosy and imposthumes. + +As Turpin's eye shifted from one to another of these figures, he chanced +upon an individual who had been long endeavoring to arrest his +attention. This personage was completely in the background. All that +Dick could discern of him was a brown curly head of hair, carelessly +arranged in the modern mode; a handsome, impudent, sun-freckled face, +with one eye closed, and the other occupied by a broken bottle-neck, +through which, as a substitute for a lorgnette, the individual +reconnoitered him. A cocked hat was placed in a very _dgage_ manner +under his arm, and he held an ebony cane in his hand, very much in the +style of a "_fassionable_," as the French have it, of the present day. +This glimpse was sufficient to satisfy Turpin. He recognized in this +whimsical personage an acquaintance. + +Jerry Juniper was what the classical Captain Grose would designate a +"gentleman with three outs," and, although he was not entirely without +wit, nor, his associates avouched, without money, nor, certainly, in his +own opinion, had that been asked, without manners; yet was he assuredly +without shoes, without stockings, without shirt. This latter deficiency +was made up by a voluminous cravat, tied with proportionately large +bows. A jaunty pair of yellow breeches, somewhat faded; a waistcoat of +silver brocade, richly embroidered, somewhat tarnished and lack-lustre; +a murrey-colored velvet coat, somewhat chafed, completed the costume of +this beggar Brummell, this mendicant macaroni! + +Jerry Juniper was a character well known at the time, as a constant +frequenter of all races, fairs, regattas, ship-launches, bull-baits, and +prize-fights, all of which he attended, and to which he transported +himself with an expedition little less remarkable than that of Turpin. +You met him at Epsom, at Ascot, at Newmarket, at Doncaster, at the +Roodee of Chester, at the Curragh of Kildare. The most remote as well as +the most adjacent meeting attracted him. The cock-pit was his constant +haunt, and in more senses than one was he a _leg_. No opera-dancer could +be more agile, more nimble; scarcely, indeed, more graceful, than was +Jerry, with his shoeless and stockingless feet; and the manner in which +he executed a pirouette, or a pas, before a line of carriages, seldom +failed to procure him "golden opinions from all sorts of dames." With +the ladies, it must be owned, Jerry was rather upon too easy terms; but +then, perhaps, the ladies were upon too easy terms with Jerry; and if a +bright-eyed fair one condescended to jest with him, what marvel if he +should sometimes slightly transgress the laws of decorum. These +aberrations, however, were trifling; altogether he was so well known, +and knew everybody else so well, that he seldom committed himself; and, +singular to say, could on occasions even be serious. In addition to his +other faculties, no one cut a sly joke, or trolled a merry ditty, better +than Jerry. His peculiarities, in short, were on the pleasant side, and +he was a general favorite in consequence. + +No sooner did Jerry perceive that he was recognized, than, after kissing +his hand, with the air of a _petit-matre_, to the highwayman, he strove +to edge his way through the crowd. All his efforts were fruitless; and, +tired of a situation in the rear rank, so inconsistent, he conceived, +with his own importance, he had recourse to an expedient often practised +with success in harlequinades, and not unfrequently in real life, where +a flying leap is occasionally taken over our heads. He ran back a few +yards to give himself an impetus, returned, and, placing his hands upon +the shoulders of a stalwart vagabond near to him, threw a summerset upon +the broad cap of a palliard, who was so jammed in the midst that he +could not have stirred to avoid the shock; thence, without pausing, he +vaulted forwards, and dropped lightly upon the ground in front of +Zoroaster, and immediately before the highwayman. + +Dick laughed immoderately at Jerry's man[oe]uvre. He shook his old chum +cordially by the hand, saying, in a whisper, "What the devil brings you +here, Jerry?" + +"I might retort, and ask you that question, Captain Turpin," replied +Jerry, _sotto voce_. "It is odd to see me here, certainly--quite out of +my element--lost amongst this _canaille_--this Canting Crew--all the +fault of a pair of gipsy eyes, bright as a diamond, dark as a sloe. You +comprehend--a little affair, ha! Liable to these things. Bring your ear +closer, my boy; be upon your guard--keep a sharp look out--there's a +devil of a reward upon your head--I won't answer for all those rascals." + +"Thank you for the hint, Jerry," replied Dick, in the same tone. "I +calculated my chances pretty nicely when I came here. But if I should +perceive any symptoms of foul play--any attempt to snitch or nose, +amongst this pack of peddlers--I have a friend or two at hand, who won't +be silent upon the occasion. Rest assured I shall have my eye upon the +gnarling scoundrels. I won't be sold for nothing." + +"Trust you for that," returned Juniper, with a wink. "Stay," added he; +"a thought strikes me. I have a scheme _in petto_ which may, perhaps, +afford you some fun, and will, at all events, insure your safety during +your stay." + +"What is it?" asked Dick. + +"Just amuse yourself with a flirtation for a moment or two with that +pretty damsel, who has been casting her ogles at you for the last five +minutes without success, while I effect a master-stroke." + +And as Turpin, nothing loth, followed his advice, Jerry addressed +himself to Zoroaster. After a little conference, accompanied by that +worthy and the knight of Malta, the trio stepped forward from the line, +and approached Dick, when Juniper, assuming some such attitude as our +admirable Jones, the comedian, is wont to display, delivered himself of +the following address. Turpin listened with the gravity of one of the +distinguished persons alluded to, at the commencement of the present +chapter, upon their receiving the freedom of the city at the hands of a +mayor and corporation. Thus spoke Jerry: + +"Highest of High-Tobymen! rummest of rum Padders, and most scampish of +Scampsmen! We, in the name of Barbara, our most tawny queen; in the name +of Zoroaster, our Upright Man, Dimber Damber, or Olli Campolli, by all +which titles his excellency is distinguished; in our own respective +names, as High Pads and Low Pads, Rum Gills and Queer Gills, Patricos, +Palliards, Priggers, Whip-Jacks, and Jarkmen, from the Arch Rogue to the +Needy Mizzler, fully sensible of the honor you have conferred upon us in +gracing Stop-Hole Abbey with your presence; and conceiving that we can +in no way evince our sense of your condescension so entirely as by +offering you the freedom of our crew, together with the privileges of an +Upright Man,[34] which you may be aware are considerable, and by +creating you an honorary member of the Vagrant Club, which we have +recently established; and in so doing, we would fain express the +sentiments of gratification and pride which we experience in enrolling +among our members one who has extended the glory of roguery so widely +over the land, and who has kicked up such a dust upon the highways of +England, as most effectually to blind the natives--one who is in himself +a legion--of highwaymen! Awaiting, with respectful deference, the +acquiescence of Captain Richard Turpin, we beg to tender him the freedom +of our crew." + +"Really, gentlemen," said Turpin, who did not exactly see the drift of +this harangue, "you do me a vast deal of honor. I am quite at a loss to +conceive how I can possibly have merited so much attention at your +hands; and, indeed, I feel myself so unworthy----" Here Dick received an +expressive wink from Juniper, and therefore thought it prudent to alter +his expression. "Could I suppose myself at all deserving of so much +distinction," continued the modest speaker, "I should at once accept +your very obliging offer; but----" + +"None so worthy," said the upright man. + +"Can't hear of a refusal," said the knight of Malta. + +"Refusal--impossible!" reiterated Juniper. + +"No; no refusal," exclaimed a chorus of voices. "Dick Turpin must be one +of us. He shall be our dimber damber." + +"Well, gentlemen, since you are so pressing," replied Turpin, "even so +be it. I _will_ be your dimber damber." + +"Bravo! bravo!" cried the mob, _not_ "of gentlemen." + +"About it, pals, at once," said the knight of Malta, flourishing +Excalibur. "By St. Thomas Becket, we'll have as fine a scene as I +myself ever furnished to the Canterbury lieges." + +"About what?" asked Dick. + +"Your matriculation," replied Jerry. "There are certain forms to be +gone through, with an oath to be taken, merely a trifle. We'll have a +jolly booze when all's over. Come bing avast, my merry pals; to the +green, to the green: a Turpin! a Turpin! a new brother!" + +"A Turpin! a Turpin! a new brother!" echoed the crew. + +"I've brought you through," said Jerry, taking advantage of the uproar +that ensued to whisper to his chum; "none of them will dare to lift a +finger against you now. They are all your friends for life." + +"Nevertheless," returned Turpin, "I should be glad to know what has +become of Bess." + +"If it's your prancer you are wanting," chirped a fluttering creature, +whom Turpin recognized as Luke's groom, Grasshopper, "I gave her a fresh +loaf and a stoup of stingo, as you bade me, and there she be, under yon +tree, as quiet as a lamb." + +"I see her," replied Turpin; "just tighten her girths, Grasshopper, and +bring her after me, and thou shalt have wherewithal to chirp over thy +cups at supper." + +Away bounded the elfin dwarf to execute his behest. + +A loud shout now rent the skies, and presently afterwards was heard the +vile scraping of a fiddle, accompanied by the tattoo of a drum. +Approaching Turpin, a host of gipsies elevated the highwayman upon their +shoulders, and in this way he was carried to the centre of the green, +where the long oaken table, which had once served the Franciscans for +refection, was now destined for the stage of the pageant. + +Upon this table three drums were placed; and Turpin was requested to +seat himself on the central one. A solemn prelude, more unearthly than +the incantation in the Freyschtz, was played by the orchestra of the +band, conducted by the Paganini of the place, who elicited the most +marvellous notes from his shell. A couple of shawms[35] emitted +sepulchral sounds, while the hollow rolling of a drum broke ever and +anon upon the ear. The effect was prodigiously fine. During this +overture the patrico and the upright man had ascended the rostrum, each +taking his place; the former on the right hand of Turpin, the latter +upon his left. Below them stood the knight of Malta, with Excalibur +drawn in his hand, and gleaming in the sunshine. On the whole, Dick was +amused with what he saw, and with the novel situation in which he found +himself placed. Around the table were congregated a compact mass of +heads; so compact, indeed, that they looked like one creature--an Argus, +with each eye upturned upon the highwayman. The idea struck Turpin that +the restless mass of parti-colored shreds and patches, of vivid hues and +varied tintings, singularly, though accidentally, disposed to produce +such an effect, resembled an immense tiger-moth, or it might be a Turkey +carpet spread out upon the grass! + +The scene was a joyous one. It was a brilliant sunshiny morning. +Freshened and purified by the storm of the preceding night, the air +breathed a balm upon the nerves and senses of the robber. The wooded +hills were glittering in light; the brook was flowing swiftly past the +edge of the verdant slope, glancing like a wreathed snake in the +sunshine--its "quiet song" lost in the rude harmony of the mummers, as +were the thousand twitterings of the rejoicing birds; the rocks bared +their bosoms to the sun, or were buried in deep-cast gloom; the shadows +of the pillars and arches of the old walls of the priory were projected +afar, while the rose-like ramifications of the magnificent marigold +window were traced, as if by a pencil, upon the verdant tablet of the +sod. + +The overture was finished. With the appearance of the principal figures +in this strange picture the reader is already familiar. It remains only +to give him some idea of the patrico. Imagine, then, an old +superannuated goat, reared upon its hind legs, and clad in a white +sheet, disposed in folds like those of a simar about its limbs, and you +will have some idea of Balthazar, the patrico. This resemblance to the +animal before mentioned was rendered the more striking by his huge, +hanging, goat-like under lip, his lengthy white beard, and a sort of +cap, covering his head, which was ornamented with a pair of horns, such +as are to be seen in Michael Angelo's tremendous statue of Moses. +Balthazar, besides being the patrico of the tribe, was its principal +professor of divination, and had been the long-tried and faithful +minister of Barbara Lovel, from whose secret instructions he was +supposed to have derived much of his magical skill. + +Placing a pair of spectacles upon his "prognosticating nose," and +unrolling a vellum skin, upon which strange characters were written, +Balthazar, turning to Turpin, thus commenced in a solemn voice: + + Thou who wouldst our brother be, + Say how we shall enter thee? + Name the name that thou wilt bear + Ere our livery thou wear? + +"I see no reason why I should alter my designation," replied the +noviciate; "but as popes change their titles on their creation, there +can be no objection to a scampsman following so excellent an example. +Let me be known as the Night Hawk." + +"The Night Hawk--good," returned the hierophant, proceeding to register +the name upon the parchment. "Kneel down," continued he. + +After some hesitation, Turpin complied. + +"You must repeat the 'salamon,' or oath of our creed, after my +dictation," said the patrico; and Turpin, signifying his assent by a +nod, Balthazar propounded the following abjuration: + + OATH OF THE CANTING CREW + + I, Crank-Cuffin, swear to be + True to this fraternity; + That I will in all obey + Rule and order of the lay. + Never blow the gab, or squeak; + Never snitch to bum or beak; + But religiously maintain + Authority of those who reign + Over Stop-Hole Abbey Green, + Be they tawny king, or queen. + In their cause alone will fight; + Think what they think, wrong or right; + Serve them truly, and no other, + And be faithful to my brother; + Suffer none, from far or near, + With their rights to interfere; + No strange Abram, ruffler crack, + Hooker of another pack, + Rogue or rascal, frater, maunderer, + Irish toyle, or other wanderer; + No dimber damber, angler, dancer, + Prig of cackler, prig of prancer; + No swigman, swaddler, clapperdudgeon; + Cadge-gloak, curtal, or curmudgeon; + No whip-jack, palliard, patrico; + No jarkman, be he high or low; + No dummerar, or romany; + No member of "_the Family_;" + No ballad-basket, bouncing buffer, + Nor any other, will I suffer; + But stall-off now and for ever, + All outliers whatsoever: + And as I keep to the foregone, + So may help me Salamon![36] + +"So help me Salamon!" repeated Turpin, with emphasis. + +"Zoroaster," said the patrico to the upright man, "do thy part of this +ceremonial." + +Zoroaster obeyed; and, taking Excalibur from the knight of Malta, +bestowed a hearty thwack with the blade upon the shoulders of the +kneeling highwayman, assisting him afterwards to arise. + +The inauguration was complete. + +"Well," exclaimed Dick, "I'm glad it's all over. My leg feels a little +stiffish. I'm not much given to kneeling. I must dance it off;" saying +which, he began to shuffle upon the boards. "I tell you what," continued +he, "most reverend patrico, that same 'salmon' of yours has a cursed +long tail. I could scarce swallow it all, and it's strange if it don't +give me an indigestion. As to you, sage Zory, from the dexterity with +which you flourish your sword, I should say you had practised at court. +His majesty could scarce do the thing better, when, slapping some fat +alderman upon the shoulder, he bids him arise Sir Richard. And now, +pals," added he, glancing round, "as I am one of you, let's have a booze +together ere I depart, for I don't think my stay will be long in the +land of Egypt." + +This suggestion of Turpin was so entirely consonant to the wishes of the +assemblage, that it met with universal approbation; and upon a sign from +Zoroaster, some of his followers departed in search of supplies for the +carousal. Zoroaster leaped from the table, and his example was followed +by Turpin, and more leisurely by the patrico. + +It was rather early in the day for a drinking bout. But the Canting Crew +were not remarkably particular. The chairs were removed, and the +jingling of glasses announced the arrival of the preliminaries of the +matutine symposion. Poles, canvas, and cords were next brought; and in +almost as short a space of time as one scene is substituted for another +in a theatrical representation, a tent was erected. Benches, stools, and +chairs appeared with equal celerity, and the interior soon presented an +appearance like that of a booth at a fair. A keg of brandy was broached, +and the health of the new brother quaffed in brimmers. + +Our highwayman returned thanks. Zoroaster was in the chair, the knight +of Malta acting as croupier. A second toast was proposed--the tawny +queen. This was drunk with a like enthusiasm, and with a like allowance +of the potent spirit; but as bumpers of brandy are not to be repeated +with impunity, it became evident to the president of the board that he +must not repeat his toasts quite so expeditiously. To create a +temporary diversion, therefore, he called for a song. + +The dulcet notes of the fiddle now broke through the clamor; and, in +answer to the call, Jerry Juniper volunteered the following: + + JERRY JUNIPER'S CHANT + + In a box[37] of the stone jug[38] I was born, + Of a hempen widow[39] the kid forlorn. + _Fake away,_ + And my father, as I've heard say, + _Fake away._ + Was a merchant of capers[40] gay, + Who cut his last fling with great applause, + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._[41] + + Who cut his last fling with great applause,[42] + To the tune of a "hearty choke with caper sauce." + _Fake away._ + The knucks in quod[43] did my schoolmen play, + _Fake away,_ + And put me up to the time of day; + Until at last there was none so knowing, + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + Until at last there was none so knowing, + No such sneaksman[44] or buzgloak[45] going. + _Fake away._ + Fogles[46] and fawnies[47] soon went their way, + _Fake away_, + To the spout[48] with the sneezers[49] in grand array. + No dummy hunter[50] had forks[51] so fly; + _Nix my doll pals, fake away_. + + No dummy hunter had forks so fly, + No knuckler[52] so deftly could fake a cly,[53] + _Fake away._ + No slour'd hoxter[54] my snipes[55] could stay, + _Fake away._ + None knap a reader[56] like me in the lay. + Soon then I mounted in swell-street high. + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + Soon then I mounted in swell-street high, + And sported my flashiest toggery[57], + _Fake away._ + Firmly resolved I would make my hay, + _Fake away,_ + While Mercury's star shed a single ray; + And ne'er was there seen such a dashing prig,[58] + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + And ne'er was there seen such a dashing prig, + With my strummel faked in the newest twig.[59] + _Fake away._ + With my fawnied famms,[60] and my onions gay,[61] + _Fake away;_ + My thimble of ridge[62], and my driz kemesa[63]; + All my togs were so niblike[64] and splash, + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + All my togs were so niblike and splash, + Readily the queer screens I then could smash;[65] + _Fake away._ + But my nuttiest blowen,[66] one fine day, + _Fake away,_ + To the beaks[67] did her fancy man betray, + And thus was I bowled out at last[68] + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + And thus was I bowled out at last, + And into the jug for a lag was cast;[69] + _Fake away._ + But I slipped my darbies[70] one morn in May, + _Fake away,_ + And gave to the dubsman[71] a holiday. + And here I am, pals, merry and free, + A regular rollicking romany.[72] + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + +Much laughter and applause rewarded Jerry's attempt to please; and +though the meaning of his chant, even with the aid of the numerous notes +appended to it, may not be quite obvious to our readers, we can assure +them that it was perfectly intelligible to the Canting Crew. Jerry was +now entitled to a call; and happening, at the moment, to meet the fine +dark eyes of a sentimental gipsy, one of that better class of mendicants +who wandered about the country with a guitar at his back, his election +fell upon him. The youth, without prelude, struck up a + + GIPSY SERENADE + + Merry maid, merry maid, wilt thou wander with me? + We will roam through the forest, the meadow, and lea; + We will haunt the sunny bowers, and when day begins to flee, + Our couch shall be the ferny brake, our canopy the tree. + _Merry maid, merry maid, come and wander with me! + No life like the gipsy's, so joyous and free!_ + + Merry maid, merry maid, though a roving life be ours, + We will laugh away the laughing and quickly fleeting hours; + Our hearts are free, as is the free and open sky above, + And we know what tamer souls know not, how lovers ought to love. + _Merry maid, merry maid, come and wander with me! + No life like the gipsy's so joyous and free!_ + +Zoroaster now removed the pipe from his upright lips to intimate his +intention of proposing a toast. + +A universal knocking of knuckles by the knucklers[73] was followed by +profound silence. The sage spoke: + +"The city of Canterbury, pals," said he; "and may it never want a knight +of Malta." + +The toast was pledged with much laughter, and in many bumpers. + +The knight, upon whom all eyes were turned, rose, "with stately bearing +and majestic motion," to return thanks. + +"I return you an infinitude of thanks, brother pals," said he, glancing +round the assemblage; and bowing to the president, "and to you, most +upright Zory, for the honor you have done me in associating my name with +that city. Believe me, I sincerely appreciate the compliment, and echo +the sentiment from the bottom of my soul. I trust it never _will_ want +a knight of Malta. In return for your consideration, but a poor one you +will say, you shall have a ditty, which I composed upon the occasion of +my pilgrimage to that city, and which I have thought proper to name +after myself." + + THE KNIGHT OF MALTA + + _A Canterbury Tale_[74] + + Come list to me, and you shall have, without a hem or haw, sirs, + A Canterbury pilgrimage, much better than old Chaucer's. + 'Tis of a hoax I once played off upon that city clever, + The memory of which, I hope, will stick to it for ever. + _With my coal-black beard, and purple cloak, + jack-boots, and broad-brimmed castor, + Hey-ho! for the knight of Malta!_ + + To execute my purpose, in the first place, you must know, sirs, + My locks I let hang down my neck--my beard and whiskers grow, sirs; + A purple cloak I next clapped on, a sword lagged to my side, sirs, + And mounted on a charger black, I to the town did ride, sirs. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + Two pages were there by my side, upon two little ponies, + Decked out in scarlet uniform, as spruce as macaronies; + Caparisoned my charger was, as grandly as his master, + And o'er my long and curly locks, I wore a broad-brimmed castor. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + The people all flocked forth, amazed to see a man so hairy, + Oh I such a sight had ne'er before been seen in Canterbury! + My flowing robe, my flowing beard, my horse with flowing mane, sirs! + They stared--the days of chivalry, they thought, were come again, sirs! + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + I told them a long rigmarole romance, that did not halt a + Jot, that they beheld in me a real knight of Malta! + Tom Becket had I sworn I was, that saint and martyr hallowed, + I doubt not just as readily the bait they would have swallowed. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + I rode about, and speechified, and everybody gullied, + The tavern-keepers diddled, and the magistracy bullied; + Like puppets were the townsfolk led in that show they call a raree; + The Gotham sages were a joke to those of Canterbury. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + The theatre I next engaged, where I addressed the crowd, sirs, + And on retrenchment and reform I spouted long and loud, sirs; + On tithes and on taxation I enlarged with skill and zeal, sirs, + Who so able as a Malta knight, the malt tax to repeal, sirs. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + As a candidate I then stepped forth to represent their city, + And my non-election to that place was certainly a pity; + For surely I the fittest was, and very proper, very, + To represent the wisdom and the wit of Canterbury. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + At the trial of some smugglers next, one thing I rather queer did, + And the justices upon the bench I literally _bearded_; + For I swore that I some casks did see, though proved as clear as + day, sirs, + That I happened at the time to be some fifty miles away, sirs. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + This last assertion, I must own, was somewhat of a blunder, + And for perjury indicted they compelled me to knock under; + To my prosperous career this slight error put a stop, sirs, + And thus _crossed_, the knight of Malta was at length obliged to + _hop_, sirs. + _With his coal-black beard, and purple cloak, + jack-boots, and broad-brimmed castor, + Good-by to the knight of Malta._ + +The knight sat down amidst the general plaudits of the company. + +The party, meanwhile, had been increased by the arrival of Luke and the +sexton. The former, who was in no mood for revelry, refused to comply +with his grandsire's solicitation to enter, and remained sullenly at the +door, with his arms folded, and his eyes fixed upon Turpin, whose +movements he commanded through the canvas aperture. The sexton walked up +to Dick, who was seated at the post of honor, and, clapping him upon +the shoulder, congratulated him upon the comfortable position in which +he found him. + +"Ha, ha! Are you there, my old death's-head on a mop-stick?" said +Turpin, with a laugh. "Ain't we merry mumpers, eh? Keeping it up in +style. Sit down, old Noah--make yourself comfortable, Methusalem." + +"What say you to a drop of as fine Nantz as you ever tasted in your +life, old cove?" said Zoroaster. + +"I have no sort of objection to it," returned Peter, "provided you will +all pledge my toast." + +"That I will, were it old Ruffin himself," shouted Turpin. + +"Here's to the three-legged mare," cried Peter. "To the tree that bears +fruit all the year round, and yet has neither bark nor branch. You won't +refuse that toast, Captain Turpin?" + +"Not I," answered Dick; "I owe the gallows no grudge. If, as Jerry's +song says, I must have a 'hearty choke and caper sauce' for my breakfast +one of these fine mornings, it shall never be said that I fell to my +meal without appetite, or neglected saying grace before it. Gentlemen, +here's Peter Bradley's toast: 'The scragging post--the three-legged +mare,' with three times three." + +Appropriate as this sentiment was, it did not appear to be so inviting +to the party as might have been anticipated, and the shouts soon died +away. + +"They like not the thoughts of the gallows," said Turpin to Peter. "More +fools they. A mere bugbear to frighten children, believe me; and never +yet alarmed a brave man. The gallows, pshaw! One can but die once, and +what signifies it how, so that it be over quickly. I think no more of +the last leap into eternity than clearing a five-barred gate. A rope's +end for it! So let us be merry, and make the most of our time, and +that's true philosophy. I know you can throw off a rum chant," added he, +turning to Peter. "I heard you sing last night at the hall. Troll us a +stave, my antediluvian file, and, in the meantime, tip me a gage of +fogus,[75] Jerry; and if that's a bowl of huckle-my-butt[76] you are +brewing, Sir William," added he, addressing the knight of Malta, "you +may send me a jorum at your convenience." + +Jerry handed the highwayman a pipe, together with a tumbler of the +beverage which the knight had prepared, which he pronounced excellent; +and while the huge bowl was passed round to the company, a prelude of +shawms announced that Peter was ready to break into song. + +Accordingly, after the symphony was ended, accompanied at intervals by a +single instrument, Peter began his melody, in a key so high, that the +utmost exertions of the shawm-blower failed to approach its altitudes. +The burden of his minstrelsy was + + THE MANDRAKE[77] + + {Mly de min kaleousi theoi, chalnpon de t' oryssein + Andrasi ge thntoisi theoi, de te panta dynantai.} + HOMERUS. + + The mandrake grows 'neath the gallows-tree, + And rank and green are its leaves to see; + Green and rank, as the grass that waves + Over the unctuous earth of graves; + And though all around it lie bleak and bare, + Freely the mandrake flourisheth there. + _Maranatha--Anathema! + Dread is the curse of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + + At the foot of the gibbet the mandrake springs; + Just where the creaking carcase swings; + Some have thought it engendered + From the fat that drops from the bones of the dead; + Some have thought it a human thing; + But this is a vain imagining. + _Maranatha--Anathema! + Dread is the curse of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + + A charnel leaf doth the mandrake wear, + A charnel fruit doth the mandrake bear; + Yet none like the mandrake hath such great power, + Such virtue resides not in herb or flower; + Aconite, hemlock, or moonshade, I ween, + None hath a poison so subtle and keen. + _Maranatha--Anathema! + Dread is the curse of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + + And whether the mandrake be create + Flesh with the power incorporate, + I know not; yet, if from the earth 'tis rent, + Shrieks and groans from the root are sent; + Shrieks and groans, and a sweat like gore + Oozes and drops from the clammy core. + _Maranatha--Anathema! + Dread is the curse of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + + Whoso gathereth the mandrake shall surely die; + Blood for blood is his destiny. + Some who have plucked it have died with groans, + Like to the mandrake's expiring moans; + Some have died raving, and some beside-- + With penitent prayers--but _all_ have died. + _Jesu! save us by night and day! + From the terrible death of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + +"A queer chant that," said Zoroaster, coughing loudly, in token of +disapprobation. + +"Not much to my taste," quoth the knight of Malta. "We like something +more sprightly in Canterbury." + +"Nor to mine," added Jerry; "don't think it's likely to have an encore. +'Pon my soul, Dick, you must give us something yourself, or we shall +never cry Euthanasy at the Triple Tree." + +"With all my heart," replied Turpin. "You shall have--but what do I see, +my friend Sir Luke? Devil take my tongue, Luke Bradley, I mean. What, +ho! Luke--nay, nay, man, no shrinking--stand forward; I've a word or two +to say to you. We must have a hob-a-nob glass together for old +acquaintance sake. Nay, no airs, man; damme you're not a lord yet, nor a +baronet either, though I do hold your title in my pocket; never look +glum at me. It won't pay. I'm one of the Canting Crew now; no man shall +sneer at me with impunity, eh, Zory? Ha, ha! here's a glass of Nantz; +we'll have a bottle of black strap when you are master of your own. Make +ready there, you gut-scrapers, you shawm-shavers; I'll put your lungs in +play for you presently. In the meantime--charge, pals, charge--a toast, +a toast! Health and prosperity to Sir Luke Rookwood! I see you are +surprised--this, gemmen, is Sir Luke Rookwood, somewhile Luke Bradley, +heir to the house of that name, not ten miles distant from this. Say, +shall we not drink a bumper to his health?" + +Astonishment prevailed amongst the crew. Luke himself had been taken by +surprise. When Turpin discovered him at the door of the tent, and +summoned him to appear, he reluctantly complied with the request; but +when, in a half-bantering vein, Dick began to rally him upon his +pretensions, he would most gladly have retreated, had it been in his +power. It was then too late. He felt he must stand the ordeal. Every eye +was fixed upon him with a look of inquiry. + +Zoroaster took his everlasting pipe from his mouth. + +"This ain't true, sure_ly_?" asked the perplexed Magus. + +"He has said it," replied Luke; "I may not deny it." + +This was sufficient. There was a wild hubbub of delight amongst the +crew, for Luke was a favorite with all. + +"Sir Luke Rookwood!" cried Jerry Juniper, who liked a title as much as +Tommy Moore is said to dote upon a lord. "Upon my soul I sincerely +congratulate you; devilish fortunate fellow. Always cursed unlucky +myself. I could never find out my own father, unless it were one +Monsieur des Capriolles, a French dancing-master, and _he_ never left +anything behind him that I could hear of, except a broken kit and a +hempen widow. Sir Luke Rookwood, we shall do ourselves the pleasure of +drinking your health and prosperity." + +Fresh bumpers and immense cheering. + +Silence being in a measure restored, Zoroaster claimed Turpin's promise +of a song. + +"True, true," replied Dick; "I have not forgotten it. Stand to your +bows, my hearties." + + THE GAME OF HIGH TOBY + + Now Oliver[78] puts his black nightcap on, + And every star its glim[79] is hiding, + And forth to the heath is the scampsman[80] gone, + His matchless cherry-black[81] prancer riding; + Merrily over the common he flies, + Fast and free as the rush of rocket, + His crape-covered vizard drawn over his eyes, + His tol[82] by his side, and his pops[83] in his pocket. + + CHORUS + + _Then who can name + So merry a game, + As the game of all games--high toby?_[84] + + The traveller hears him, away! away! + Over the wide wide heath he scurries; + He heeds not the thunderbolt summons to stay, + But ever the faster and faster he hurries. + But what daisy-cutter can match that black tit? + He is caught--he must "stand and deliver;" + Then out with the dummy[85], and off with the bit,[86] + Oh! the game of high toby for ever! + + CHORUS + + _Then who can name + So merry a game, + As the game of all games--high toby?_ + + Believe me, there is not a game, my brave boys, + To compare with the game of high toby; + No rapture can equal the tobyman's joys, + To blue devils, blue plumbs[87] give the go-by; + And what if, at length, boys, he come to the crap![88] + Even rack punch has _some_ bitter in it, + For the mare-with-three-legs[89], boys, I care not a rap, + 'Twill be over in less than a minute. + + GRAND CHORUS + + _Then hip, hurrah! + Fling care away! + Hurrah for the game of high toby!_ + +"And now, pals," said Dick, who began to feel the influence of these +morning cups, "I vote that we adjourn. Believe me I shall always bear in +mind that I am a brother of your band. Sir Luke and I must have a little +chat together ere I take my leave. Adieu!" + +And taking Luke by the arm, he walked out of the tent. Peter Bradley +rose, and followed them. + +At the door they found the dwarfish Grasshopper with Black Bess. +Rewarding the urchin for his trouble, and slipping the bridle of his +mare over his hand, Turpin continued his walk over the green. For a few +minutes he seemed to be lost in rumination. + +"I tell you what, Sir Luke," said he; "I should like to do a generous +thing, and make you a present of this bit of paper. But one ought not to +throw away one's luck, you know--there is a tide in the affairs of +thieves, as the player coves say, which must be taken at the flood, or +else----no matter! Your old dad, Sir Piers--God help him!--had the +gingerbread, _that_ I know; he was, as we say, a regular rhino-cerical +cull. You won't feel a few thousands, especially at starting; and +besides, there are two others, Rust and Wilder, who row in the same boat +with me, and must therefore come in for their share of the reg'lars. +All this considered, you can't complain, I think if I ask five thousand +for it. That old harridan, Lady Rookwood, offered me nearly as much." + +"I will not talk to you of fairness," said Luke; "I will not say that +document belongs of right to me. It fell by accident into your hands. +Having possessed yourself of it, I blame you not that you dispose of it +to the best advantage. I must, perforce, agree to your terms." + +"Oh, no," replied Dick, "it's quite optional; Lady Rookwood will give as +much, and make no mouths about it. Soho, lass! What makes Bess prick her +ears in that fashion?--Ha! carriage-wheels in the distance! that jade +knows the sound as well as I do. I'll just see what it's like!--you will +have ten minutes for reflection. Who knows if I may not have come in for +a good thing here?" + +At that instant the carriage passed the angle of a rock some three +hundred yards distant, and was seen slowly ascending the hill-side. +Eager as a hawk after his quarry, Turpin dashed after it. + +In vain the sexton, whom he nearly overthrew in his career, called after +him to halt. He sped like a bolt from the bow. + +"May the devil break his neck!" cried Peter, as he saw him dash through +the brook; "could he not let them alone?" + +"This must not be," said Luke; "know you whose carriage it is?" + +"It is a shrine that holds the jewel that should be dearest in your +eyes," returned Peter; "haste, and arrest the spoiler's hand." + +"Whom do you mean?" asked Luke. + +"Eleanor Mowbray," replied Peter. "She is there. To the rescue--away." + +"Eleanor Mowbray!" echoed Luke--"and Sybil?----" + +At this instant a pistol-shot was heard. + +"Will you let murder be done, and upon your cousin?" cried Peter, with a +bitter look. "You are not what I took you for." + +Luke answered not, but, swift as the hound freed from the leash, darted +in the direction of the carriage. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI_ + +_ELEANOR MOWBRAY_ + + ----Mischiefs + Are like the visits of Franciscan friars, + They never come to prey upon us single. + + _Devil's Law Case._ + + +The course of our tale returns now to Eleanor Mowbray. After she had +parted from Ranulph Rookwood, and had watched him disappear beneath the +arches of the church porch, her heart sank, and, drawing herself back +within the carriage, she became a prey to the most poignant affliction. +In vain she endeavored to shake off this feeling of desolation. It would +not be. Despair had taken possession of her; the magic fabric of delight +melted away, or only gleamed to tantalize, at an unreachable distance. A +presentiment that Ranulph would never be hers had taken root in her +imagination, and overshadowed all the rest. + +While Eleanor pursued this train of reflection, the time insensibly wore +away, until the sudden stoppage of the carriage aroused the party from +their meditation. Major Mowbray perceived that the occasion of the halt +was the rapid advance of a horseman, who was nearing them at full speed. +The appearance of the rider was somewhat singular, and might have +created some uneasiness as to the nature of his approach, had not the +major immediately recognized a friend; he was, nevertheless, greatly +surprised to see him, and turned to Mrs. Mowbray to inform her that +Father Ambrose, to his infinite astonishment, was coming to meet them, +and appeared, from his manner, to be the bearer of unwelcome tidings. + +Father Ambrose was, perhaps, the only being whom Eleanor disliked. She +had felt an unaccountable antipathy towards him, which she could neither +extirpate nor control, during their long and close intimacy. It may be +necessary to mention that her religious culture had been in accordance +with the tenets of the Romish Church, in whose faith--the faith of her +ancestry--her mother had continued; and that Father Ambrose, with whom +she had first become acquainted during the residence of the family near +Bordeaux, was her ghostly adviser and confessor. An Englishman by birth, +he had been appointed pastor to the diocese in which they dwelt, and +was, consequently, a frequent visitor, almost a constant inmate of the +chteau; yet though duty and respect would have prompted her to regard +the father with affection, Eleanor could never conquer the feelings of +dislike and distrust which she had at first entertained towards him; a +dislike which was increased by the strange control in which he seemed to +hold her mother, who regarded him with a veneration approaching to +infatuation. It was, therefore, with satisfaction that she bade him +adieu. He had, however, followed his friends to England under a feigned +name as--being a recusant Romish priest, and supposed to have been +engaged in certain Jesuitical plots, his return to his own country was +attended with considerable risk--, and had now remained domesticated +with them for some months. That he had been in some way, in early life, +connected with a branch of the house of Rookwood, Eleanor was aware--she +fancied he might have been engaged in political intrigue with Sir +Reginald, which would have well accorded with his ardent, ambitious +temperament--, and the knowledge of this circumstance made her doubly +apprehensive lest the nature of his present communication should have +reference to her lover, towards whose cause the father had never been +favorable, and respecting whose situation he might have made some +discovery, which she feared he might use to Ranulph's disadvantage. + +Wrapped in a long black cloak, with a broad-brimmed hat drawn closely +over his brows, it was impossible to distinguish further of the priest's +figure and features beyond the circumstance of his height, which was +remarkable, until he had reached the carriage window, when, raising his +hat, he disclosed a head that Titian might have painted, and which, +arising from the dark drapery, looked not unlike the visage of some +grave and saturnine Venetian. There was a venerable expanse of forehead, +thinly scattered with hair, towering over black pent-house-like brows, +which, in their turn, shadowed keen penetrating eyes; the temples were +hollow, and blue veins might be traced beneath the sallow skin; the +cheek-bones were high, and there was something in the face that spoke of +self-mortification; while the thin livid lips, closely compressed, and +the austere and sinister expression of his countenance, showed that his +self-abasement, if he had ever practised it, had scarcely prostrated the +demon of pride, whose dominion might still be traced in the lines and +furrows of his haughty physiognomy. The father looked at Mrs. Mowbray, +and then glanced suspiciously at Eleanor. The former appeared to +understand him. + +"You would say a word to me in private," said Mrs. Mowbray; "shall I +descend?" + +The priest bowed assent. + +"It is not to you alone that my mission extends," said he, gravely; "you +are all in part concerned; your son had better alight with you." + +"Instantly," replied the major. "If you will give your horse in charge +to the postilion, we will attend you at once." + +With a feeling of renewed apprehension, connected, she knew not why, +with Ranulph, Eleanor beheld her relatives descend from the carriage; +and, in the hope of gaining some clue from their gestures to the subject +of their conversation, she watched their motions as narrowly as her +situation permitted. From the earnest manner of the priest, and the +interest his narrative seemed to excite in his hearers, it was evident +that his communication was of importance. + +Presently, accompanied by Father Ambrose, Mrs. Mowbray returned to the +carriage, while the major, mounting the priest's horse, after bidding a +hasty adieu to his sister, adding, with a look that belied the +consolation intended to be conveyed by his words, that "all was well," +but without staying to offer her any explanation of the cause of his +sudden departure, rode back the way they had just traversed, and in the +direction of Rookwood. Bereft of the only person to whom she could have +applied for information, though dying with curiosity and anxiety to know +the meaning of this singular interview and of the sudden change of plans +which she felt so intimately concerned herself, Eleanor was constrained +to preserve silence, as, after their entrance into the carriage, her +mother again seemed lost in painful reflection, and heeded her not; and +the father, drawing from his pocket a small volume, appeared intently +occupied in its perusal. + +"Dear mother," said Eleanor, at length, turning to Mrs. Mowbray, "my +brother is gone----" + +"To Rookwood," said Mrs. Mowbray, in a tone calculated to check further +inquiry; but Eleanor was too anxious to notice it. + +"And wherefore, mother?" said she. "May I not be informed?" + +"Not as yet, my child--not as yet," replied Mrs. Mowbray. "You will +learn all sufficiently early." + +The priest raised his cat-like eyes from the book to watch the effect of +this speech, and dropped them instantly as Eleanor turned towards him. +She had been about to appeal to him, but having witnessed this look, she +relinquished her scarce-formed purpose, and endeavored to divert her +tristful thoughts by gazing through the glimmering medium of her tears +upon the soothing aspect of external nature--that aspect which, in +sunshine or in storm, has ever relief in store for a heart embittered by +the stormy coldness of the world. + +The road, meanwhile, led them through a long woody valley, and was now +climbing the sides of a steep hill. They were soon in the vicinity of +the priory, and of the gipsies' encampment. The priest leaned forward, +and whispered something in Mrs. Mowbray's ear, who looked towards the +ruined shrine, part of the mouldering walls being visible from the road. + +At the moment the clatter of a horse's hoofs, and the sound of a loud +voice, commanding the postilion, in a menacing tone, to stop, +accompanied by a volley of imprecations, interrupted the conference, and +bespoke the approach of an unwelcome intruder, and one whom all, too +truly, feared would not be readily dismissed. The postilion did his best +to rid them of the assailant. Perceiving a masked horseman behind him, +approaching at a furious rate, he had little doubt as to his intentions, +and Turpin, for it was our highwayman, soon made his doubts certainties. +He hallooed to him to stop; but the fellow paid no attention to his +command, and disregarded even the pistol which he saw, in a casual +glimpse over his near side, presented at his person. Clapping spurs into +his horse's flanks, he sought succor in flight. Turpin was by his side +in an instant. As the highwayman endeavored to catch his reins, the lad +suddenly wheeled the carriage right upon him, and but for the dexterity +of Turpin, and the clever conduct of his mare, would inevitably have +crushed him against the roadside. As it was, his left leg was slightly +grazed. Irritated at this, Turpin fired over the man's head, and with +the butt-end of the pistol felled him from his seat. Startled by the +sound, and no longer under the governance of their rider, the horses +rushed with frantic violence towards a ditch that bounded the other side +of the highway, down which the carriage was precipitated, and at once +overturned. Turpin's first act, after he had ascertained that no +mischief had been occasioned to those within, beyond the alarm incident +to the shock, was to compel the postilion, who had by this time gained +his legs, to release the horses from their traces. This done, with the +best grace he could assume, and, adjusting his mask, he opened the +carriage, and proceeded to liberate the captives. + +"Beg pardon, ma'am," said he, as soon as he had released Mrs. Mowbray; +"excessively sorry, upon my soul, to have been the cause of so much +unnecessary alarm to you--all the fault, I assure you, of that rascal of +a postilion; had the fellow only pulled up when I commanded him, this +botheration might have been avoided. You will remember that, when you +pay him--all his fault, I assure you, ma'am." + +Receiving no reply, he proceeded to extricate Eleanor, with whose beauty +the inflammable highwayman was instantly smitten. Leaving the father to +shift for himself, he turned to address some observation of coarse +gallantry to her; but she eluded his grasp, and flew to her mother's +side. + +"It is useless, sir," said Mrs. Mowbray, as Turpin drew near them, "to +affect ignorance of your intentions. You have already occasioned us +serious alarm; much delay and inconvenience. I trust, therefore, that +beyond our purses, to which, though scantily supplied, you are welcome, +we shall sustain no molestation. You seem to have less of the ruffian +about you than the rest of your lawless race, and are not, I should +hope, destitute of common humanity." + +"Common humanity!" replied Turpin: "bless you, ma'am, I'm the most +humane creature breathing--would not hurt a fly, much less a lady. +Incivility was never laid to my charge. This business may be managed in +a few seconds; and as soon as we have settled the matter, I'll lend your +stupid jack-boy a hand to put the horses to the carriage again, and get +the wheels out of the ditch. You have a banker, ma'am, I suppose, in +town--perhaps in the country; but I don't like country bankers; besides, +I want a little ready cash in Rumville--beg pardon, ma'am, London I +mean. My ears have been so stunned with those Romany patterers, I +almost _think_ in flash. Just draw me a check; I've pen and ink always +ready: a check for fifty pounds, ma'am--only fifty. What's your banker's +name? I've blank checks of all the best houses in my pocket; that and a +kiss from the pretty lips of that cherry-cheeked maid," winking to +Eleanor, "will fully content me. You see you have neither an exorbitant +nor uncivil personage to deal with." + +Eleanor shrank closer towards her mother. Exhausted by previous +agitation of the night, greatly frightened by the shock which she had +just sustained, and still more alarmed by the words and gestures of the +highwayman, she felt that she was momentarily in danger of fainting, and +with difficulty prevented herself from falling. The priest, who had +succeeded in freeing himself from the carriage, now placed himself +between Turpin and the ladies. + +"Be satisfied, misguided man," said the father, in a stern voice, +offering a purse, which Mrs. Mowbray hastily extended towards him, "with +the crime you have already committed, and seek not to peril your soul by +deeper guilt; be content with the plunder you now obtain, and depart; +for, by my holy calling, I affirm to you, that if you advance one +footstep towards the further molestation of these ladies, it shall be at +the hazard of your life." + +"Bravo!" exclaimed Turpin. "Now this is what I like; who would have +thought the old autem-bawler had so much pluck in him? Sir, I commend +you for your courage, but you are mistaken. I am the quietest man +breathing, and never harm a human being; in proof of which, only look at +your rascal of a postilion, whom any one of my friends would have sent +post-haste to the devil for half the trouble he gave me. Easy as I am, I +never choose to be balked in my humors. I must have the fifty and the +buss, and then I'm off, as soon as you like; and I may as well have the +kiss while the old lady signs the check, and then we shall have the seal +as well as the signature. Poh--poh--no nonsense! Many a pretty lass has +thought it an honor to be kissed by Turpin." + +Eleanor recoiled with deepest disgust, as she saw the highwayman thrust +aside the useless opposition of the priest, and approach her. He had +removed his mask; his face, flushed with insolent triumph, was turned +towards her. Despite the loathing, which curdled the blood within her +veins, she could not avert her eyes. He drew near her; she uttered a +shrill scream. At that moment a powerful grasp was laid upon Turpin's +shoulder; he turned and beheld Luke. + +"Save me! save me," cried Eleanor, addressing the new comer. + +"Damnation!" said the highwayman, "what has brought _you_ here? one +would think you were turned assistant to all distressed damsels. Quit +your hold, or, by the God above us, you will repent it." + +"Fool!" exclaimed Luke, "talk thus to one who heeds you." And as he +spoke he hurled Turpin backwards with so much force that, staggering a +few yards, the highwayman fell to the ground. + +The priest stood like one stunned with surprise at Luke's sudden +appearance and subsequent daring action. + +Luke, meanwhile, approached Eleanor. He gazed upon her with curiosity +mixed with admiration, for his heart told him she was very fair. A +deathlike paleness had spread over her cheeks; yet still, despite the +want of color, she looked exquisitely beautiful, and her large blue eyes +eloquently thanked her deliverer for her rescue. The words she wanted +were supplied by Mrs. Mowbray, who thanked him in appropriate terms, +when they were interrupted by Turpin, who had by this time picked +himself up, and was drawing near them. His countenance wore a fierce +expression. + +"I tell you what," said he, "Luke Bradley, or Luke Rookwood, or whatever +else you may call yourself, you have taken a damned unfair advantage of +me in this matter, and deserve nothing better at my hands than that I +should call you to instant account for it--and curse me, if I don't +too." + +"Luke Bradley!" interrupted Mrs. Mowbray--"are you that individual?" + +"I have been so called, madam," replied Luke. + +"Father Ambrose, is this the person of whom you spoke?" eagerly asked +the lady. + +"So I conclude," returned the priest, evasively. + +"Did he not call you Luke Rookwood?" eagerly demanded Eleanor. "Is that +also your name?" + +"Rookwood is my name, fair cousin," replied Luke, "if I may venture to +call you so." + +"And Ranulph Rookwood is----" + +"My brother." + +"I never heard he had a brother," rejoined Eleanor, with some agitation. +"How can that be?" + +"I am his brother, nevertheless," replied Luke, moodily--"his ELDER +BROTHER!" + +Eleanor turned to her mother and the priest with a look of imploring +anguish; she saw a confirmation of the truth of this statement in their +glances. No contradiction was offered by either to his statement; both, +indeed, appeared in some mysterious manner prepared for it. This, then, +was the dreaded secret. This was the cause of her brother's sudden +departure. The truth flashed with lightning swiftness across her brain. + +Chagrined and mortified, Luke remarked that glance of inquiry. His pride +was hurt at the preference thus naturally shown towards his brother. He +had been struck, deeply struck, with her beauty. He acknowledged the +truth of Peter's words. Eleanor's loveliness was without parallel. He +had seen naught so fair, and the instant he beheld her, he felt that for +_her_ alone could he cancel his vows to Sybil. The spirit of rivalry and +jealousy was instantly aroused by Eleanor's exclamations. + +"His elder brother!" echoed Eleanor, dwelling upon his words, and +addressing Luke--"then you must be--but no, you are not, you cannot +be--it is Ranulph's title--it is not yours--you are not----" + +"I am Sir Luke Rookwood," replied Luke, proudly. + +Ere the words were uttered Eleanor had fainted. + +"Assistance is at hand, madam, if you will accept it, and follow me," +said Luke, raising the insensible girl in his arms, and bearing her down +the hill towards the encampment, whither he was followed by Mrs. Mowbray +and the priest, between whom, during the hurried dialogue we have +detailed, very significant glances had been exchanged. Turpin, who, as +it may be supposed, had not been an incurious observer of the scene +passing, burst into his usual loud laugh on seeing Luke bear away his +lovely burden. + +"Cousin! Ha, ha!" said he. "So the wench is his cousin. Damme, I half +suspect he has fallen in love with his new-found cousin; and if so, Miss +Sybil, or I'm mistaken, will look as yellow as a guinea. If that little +Spanish devil gets it into her pretty jealous pate that he is about to +bring home a new mistress, we shall have a tragedy-scene in the +twinkling of a bed-post. However, I shan't lose sight of Sir Luke until +I have settled my accounts with him. Hark ye, boy," continued he, +addressing the postilion; "remain where you are; you won't be wanted yet +awhile, I imagine. There's a guinea for you, to drink Dick Turpin's +health." + +Upon which he mounted his mare, and walked her easily down the hill. + +"And so that be Dick Turpin, folks talk so much about," soliloquized the +lad, looking curiously after him; "well, he's as civil-speaking a chap +as need be, blow my boots if he ain't! and if I'd had a notion it were +he, I'd have pulled up at first call, without more ado. Nothing like +experience--I shall know better another time," added he, pocketing the +douceur. + +Rushing swiftly down the hill, Luke tarried at the river's brink, to +sprinkle some of the cool element upon the pale brow of Eleanor. As he +held her in his arms, thoughts which he fain would have stifled in their +birth took possession of his heart. "Would she were mine!" murmured he. +"Yet no! the wish is unworthy." But that wish returned unbidden. + +Eleanor opened her eyes. She was still too weak to walk without support, +and Luke, raising her once more in his arms, and motioning Mrs. Mowbray +to follow, crossed the brook by means of stepping-stones, and conducted +his charge along a bypath towards the priory, so as to avoid meeting +with the crew assembled upon the green. + +They had gained one of the roofless halls, when he encountered +Balthazar. Astonished at the sight of the party, the patrico was about +to address the priest as an acquaintance, when his more orthodox brother +raised his finger to his lips, in token of caution. The action passed +unobserved. + +"Hie thee to Sybil," said Luke to the patrico. "Bid her haste hither. +Say that this maiden--that Miss Mowbray is here, and requires her aid. +Fly! I will bear her to the refectory." + +As Balthazar passed the priest, he pointed with a significant glance +towards a chasm in the wall, which seemed to be an opening to some +subterraneous chamber. The father again made a gesture of silence, and +Balthazar hastened upon his mission. + +Luke led them to the refectory. He brought a chair for Eleanor's +support; but so far from reviving, after such attention as could be +afforded her, she appeared to become weaker. He was about to issue forth +in search of Sybil, when to his surprise he found the door fastened. + +"You cannot pass this way," said a voice, which Luke instantly +recognized as that of the knight of Malta. + +"Not pass!" echoed Luke. "What does this mean?" + +"Our orders are from the queen," returned the knight. + +At this instant the low tone of a muffled bell was heard. + +"Ha!" exclaimed Luke; "some danger is at hand." + +His heart smote him as he thought of Sybil, and he looked anxiously +towards Eleanor. + +Balthazar rushed into the room. + +"Where is Sybil?" cried Luke. "Will she not come?" + +"She will be here anon," answered the patrico. + +"I will seek her myself, then," said Luke. "The door by which you +entered is free." + +"It is _not_ free," replied Balthazar. "Remain where you are." + +"Who will prevent my going forth?" demanded Luke, sternly. + +"I will," said Barbara Lovel, as she suddenly appeared in the doorway. +"You stir not, excepting at my pleasure. Where is the maiden?" continued +she, looking around with a grim smile of satisfaction at the +consternation produced by her appearance. "Ha! I see; she faints. Here +is a cordial that shall revive her. Mrs. Mowbray, you are welcome to the +gipsies' dwelling--you and your daughter. And you, Sir Luke Rookwood, I +congratulate you upon your accession of dignity." Turning to the priest, +who was evidently overwhelmed with confusion, she exclaimed, "And you +too, sir, think you I recognize you not? We have met ere this, at +Rookwood. Know you not Barbara Lovel? Ha, ha! It is long since my poor +dwelling has been so highly honored. But I must not delay the remedy. +Let her drink of this," said she, handing a phial to Mrs. Mowbray. "It +will instantly restore her." + +"It is poison," cried Luke. "She shall not drink it." + +"Poison!" reiterated Barbara. "Behold!" and she drank of the liquid. "I +would not poison your bride," added she, turning to Luke. + +"My bride!" echoed Luke. + +"Ay, your bride," repeated Barbara. + +Luke recoiled in amazement. Mrs. Mowbray almost felt inclined to believe +she was a dreamer, so visionary did the whole scene appear. A dense +crowd of witnesses stood at the entrance. Foremost amongst them was the +sexton. Suddenly a shriek was heard, and the crowd opening to allow her +passage, Sybil rushed forward. + + + + +_CHAPTER VII_ + +_MRS. MOWBRAY_ + + Well, go thy ways, old Nick Machiavel, there will never be the peer + of thee for wholesome policy and good counsel: thou took'st pains to + chalk men out the dark paths and hidden plots of murther and deceit, + and no man has the grace to follow thee. The age is unthankful, thy + principles are quite forsaken, and worn out of memory. + + SHAKERLEY MARMION'S _Antiquary_. + + +Sybil's sudden entrance filled the group that surrounded Miss Mowbray +with new dismay. But she saw them not. Her soul seemed riveted by +Eleanor, towards whom she rushed; and while her eye wandered over her +beauty, she raised the braided hair from her brow, revealing the clear, +polished forehead. Wonder, awe, devotion, pity, usurped the place of +hatred. The fierce expression that had lit up her dark orbs was +succeeded by tender commiseration. She looked an imploring appeal at +Barbara. + +"Ay, ay," returned the old gipsy, extending at the same time the phial; +"I understand. Here is that will bring the blood once more into her +pallid cheeks, and kindle the fire within her eyes. Give her of this." + +The effect of the potion was almost instantaneous, amply attesting +Barbara's skill in its concoction. Stifled respiration first proclaimed +Eleanor's recovery. She opened her large and languid eyes; her bosom +heaved almost to bursting; her pulses throbbed quickly and feverishly; +and as the stimulant operated, the wild lustre of excitement blazed in +her eyes. + +Sybil took her hand to chafe it. The eyes of the two maidens met. They +gazed upon each other steadfastly and in silence. Eleanor knew not whom +she regarded, but she could not mistake that look of sympathy; she could +not mistake the tremulous pressure of her hand; she felt the silent +trickling tears. She returned the sympathizing glance, and gazed with +equal wonder upon the ministering fairy, for such she almost seemed, +that knelt before her. As her looks wandered from the kindly glance of +Sybil to the withered and inauspicious aspect of the gipsy queen, and +shifted thence to the dusky figures of her attendants, filled with +renewed apprehension, she exclaimed, "Who are these, and where am I?" + +"You are in safety," replied Luke. "This is the ruined priory of St. +Francis; and those strange personages are a horde of gipsies. You need +fear no injury from them." + +"My deliverer!" murmured Eleanor; when all at once the recollection that +he had avowed himself a Rookwood, and the elder brother of Ranulph, +flashed across her memory. "Gipsies! did you not say these people were +gipsies? Your own attire is the same as theirs. You are not, cannot be, +the brother of Ranulph." + +"I do not boast the same mother," returned Luke, proudly, "but my father +was Sir Piers Rookwood, and I am his elder born." + +He turned away. Dark thoughts swept across his brain. Maddened by the +beauty of Eleanor, stung by her slights, and insensible to the silent +agony of Sybil, who sought in vain to catch his eye, he thought of +nothing but of revenge, and the accomplishment of his purposes. All +within was a wild and fearful turmoil. His better principles were +stifled by the promptings of evil. "Methinks," cried he, half aloud, "if +the Tempter were near to offer the maiden to me, even at the peril of my +soul's welfare, I could not resist it." + +The Tempter _was_ at hand. He is seldom absent on occasions like the +present. The sexton stood beside his grandson. Luke started. He eyed +Peter from head to foot, almost expecting to find the cloven foot, +supposed to be proper to the fiend. Peter grinned in ghastly derision. + +"Soh! you would summon hell to your aid; and lo! the devil is at your +elbow. Well, she is yours." + +"Make good your words," cried Luke, impatiently. + +"Softly--softly," returned Peter. "Moderate yourself, and your wishes +shall be accomplished. Your own desires chime with those of others; nay, +with those of Barbara. _She_ would wed you to Miss Mowbray. You stare. +But it is so. This is a cover for some deeper plot; no matter. It shall +go hard, despite her cunning, if I foil her not at her own weapons. +There is more mischief in that old woman's brain than was ever hatched +within the crocodile's egg; yet she shall find her match. Do not thwart +her; leave all to me. She is about it now," added he, noticing Barbara +and Mrs. Mowbray in conference together. "Be patient--I will watch her." +And he quitted his grandson for the purpose of scanning more closely the +man[oe]uvres of the old gipsy. + +Barbara, meanwhile, had not remained inactive. + +"You need fear no relapse in your daughter; I will answer for that," +said the old gipsy to Mrs. Mowbray; "Sybil will tend her. Quit not the +maiden's side," continued she, addressing her grandchild, adding, in a +whisper, "Be cautious--alarm her not--mine eye will be upon you--drop +not a word." + +So saying, she shuffled to a little distance with Mrs. Mowbray, keeping +Sybil in view, and watching every motion, as the panther watches the +gambols of a fawn. + +"Know you who speaks to you?" said the old crone, in the peculiar low +and confidential tone assumed by her tribe to strangers. "Have you +forgotten the name of Barbara Lovel?" + +"I have no distinct remembrance of it," returned Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Think again," said Barbara; "and though years are flown, you may +perchance recall the black gipsy woman, who, when you were surrounded +with gay gallants, with dancing plumes, perused your palm, and whispered +in your ear the favored suitor's name. Bide with me a moment, madam," +said Barbara, seeing that Mrs. Mowbray shrank from the recollection thus +conjured up; "I am old--very old; I have survived the shows of flattery, +and being vested with a power over my people, am apt, perchance, to take +too much upon myself with others." The old gipsy paused here, and then, +assuming a more familiar tone, exclaimed, "The estates of Rookwood are +ample----" + +"Woman, what mean you?" + +"They should have been yours, lady, and would have been, but for that +marriage. You would have beseemed them bravely. Sir Reginald was wilful, +and erased the daughter's name to substitute that of his son. Pity it is +that so fair a creature as Miss Mowbray should lack the dower her beauty +and her birth entitle her to expect. Pity that Ranulph Rookwood should +lose his title, at the moment when he deemed it was dropping into his +possession. Pity that those broad lands should pass away from you and +your children, as they will do, if Ranulph and Eleanor are united." + +"They never shall be united," replied Mrs. Mowbray, hastily. + +"'Twere indeed to wed your child to beggary," said Barbara. + +Mrs. Mowbray sighed deeply. + +"There is a way," continued the old crone, in a deep whisper, "by which +the estates might still be hers and yours." + +"Indeed!" said Mrs. Mowbray, eagerly. + +"Sir Piers Rookwood had two sons." + +"Ha!" + +"The elder is here." + +"Luke--Sir Luke. He brought us hither." + +"He loves your daughter. I saw his gaze of passion just now. I am old +now, but I have some skill in lovers' glances. Why not wed her to him? I +read hands--read hearts, you know. They were born for each other. Now, +madam, do you understand me?" + +"But," returned Mrs. Mowbray, with hesitation, "though I might wish +for--though I might sanction this, Eleanor is betrothed to Ranulph--she +loves him." + +"Think not of _her_, if _you_ are satisfied. She cannot judge so well +for herself as you can for her. She is a child, and knows not what she +loves. Her affection will soon be Luke's. He is a noble youth--the image +of his grandfather, your father, Sir Reginald; and if your daughter be +betrothed to any one, 'twas to the heir of Rookwood. That was an +essential part of the contract. Why should the marriage not take place +at once, and here?" + +"Here! How were that possible?" + +"You are within sacred walls. I will take you where an altar stands. +There is no lack of holy priest to join their hands together. Your +companion, Father Ambrose, as you call him, will do the office +fittingly. He has essayed his clerkly skill already on others of your +house." + +"To what do you allude, mysterious woman?" asked Mrs. Mowbray, with +anxiety. + +"To Sir Piers and Susan Bradley," returned Barbara. "That priest united +them." + +"Indeed! He never told me this." + +"He dared not do so; he had an oath which bound him to concealment. The +time is coming when greater mysteries will be revealed." + +"'Tis strange I should not have heard of this before," said Mrs. +Mowbray, musingly; "and yet I might have guessed as much from his +obscure hints respecting Ranulph. I see it all now. I see the gulf into +which I might have been plunged; but I am warned in time. Father +Ambrose," continued she, to the priest, who was pacing the chamber at +some little distance from them, "is it true that my brother was wedded +by you to Susan Bradley?" + +Ere the priest could reply the sexton presented himself. + +"Ha, the very father of the girl!" said Mrs. Mowbray, "whom I met within +our family vault, and who was so strangely moved when I spoke to him of +Alan Rookwood. Is he here likewise?" + +"Alan Rookwood!" echoed Barbara, upon whom a light seemed suddenly to +break; "ha! what said he of him?" + +"Ill-boding raven," interposed Peter, fiercely, "be content with what +thou knowest of the living, and trouble not the repose of the dead. Let +them rest in their infamy." + +"The dead!" echoed Barbara, with a chuckling laugh; "ha! ha! he is dead, +then; and what became of his fair wife--his brother's minion? 'Twas a +foul deed, I grant, and yet there was expiation. Blood flowed--blood----" + +"Silence, thou night hag!" thundered Peter, "or I will have thee burned +at the stake for the sorcery thou practisest. Beware," added he, in a +deep tone--"I am thy friend." + +Barbara's withered countenance exhibited for an instant the deepest +indignation at the sexton's threat. The malediction trembled on her +tongue; she raised her staff to smite him, but she checked the action. +In the same tone, and with a sharp, suspicious look, she replied, "My +_friend_, sayest thou? See that it prove so, or beware of _me_." + +And, with a malignant scowl, the gipsy queen slowly shuffled towards her +satellites, who were stationed at the door. + + + + +_CHAPTER VIII_ + +_THE PARTING_ + + No marriage I esteem it, where the friends + Force love upon their children; where the virgin + Is not so truly given as betrayed. + I would not have betrothed people--for + I can by no means call them lovers--make + Their rites no wedlock, but a sacrifice. + + _Combat of Love and Friendship._ + + +Eleanor Mowbray had witnessed her mother's withdrawal from her side with +much uneasiness, and was with difficulty prevented by Sybil from +breaking upon her conference with the gipsy queen. Barbara's dark eye +was fixed upon them during the whole of the interview, and communicated +an indefinite sense of dread to Eleanor. + +"Who--who is that old woman?" asked Eleanor, under her breath. "Never, +even in my wildest dreams, have I seen aught so terrible. Why does she +look so at us? She terrifies me; and yet she cannot mean me ill, or my +mother--we have never injured her?" + +"Alas!" sighed Sybil. + +"You sigh!" exclaimed Eleanor, in alarm. "Is there any real danger, +then? Help us to avoid it. Quick, warn my mother; she seems agitated. +Oh, let me go to her." + +"Hush!" whispered Sybil, maintaining an unmoved demeanor under the +lynx-like gaze of Barbara. "Stir not, as you value your life; you know +not where you are, or what may befall you. Your safety depends upon your +composure. Your life is not in danger; but what is dearer than life, +your love, is threatened with a fatal blow. There is a dark design to +wed you to another." + +"Heavens!" ejaculated Eleanor, "and to whom?" + +"To Sir Luke Rookwood." + +"I would die sooner! Marry _him_? They shall kill me ere they force me +to it!" + +"Could you not love him?" + +"Love him! I have only seen him within this hour. I knew not of his +existence. He rescued me from peril. I would thank him. I would love +him, if I could, for Ranulph's sake; and yet for Ranulph's sake I hate +him." + +"Speak not of him thus to me," said Sybil, angrily. "If _you_ love him +not, _I_ love him. Oh! forgive me, lady; pardon my impatience--my heart +is breaking, yet it has not ceased to beat for him. You say you will die +sooner than consent to this forced union. Your faith shall not be so +cruelly attested. If there must be a victim, I will be the sacrifice. +God grant I may be the only one. Be happy! as happy as I am wretched. +You shall see what the love of a gipsy can do." + +As she spoke, Sybil burst into a flood of passionate tears. Eleanor +regarded her with the deepest commiseration; but the feeling was +transient; for Barbara, now advancing, exclaimed: "Hence to your mother. +The bridegroom is waiting: to your mother, girl!" And she motioned +Eleanor fiercely away. "What means this?" continued the old gipsy. "What +have you said to that girl? Did I not caution you against speech with +her? and you have dared to disobey me. You, my grandchild--the daughter +of my Agatha, with whom my slightest wish was law. I abandon you! I +curse you!" + +"Oh, curse me not!" cried Sybil. "Add not to my despair." + +"Then follow my advice implicitly. Cast off this weakness; all is in +readiness. Luke shall descend into the vaulted chapel, the ceremony +shall there take place--there also shall Eleanor _die_--and there again +shall you be wedded. Take this phial, place it within the folds of your +girdle. When all is over, I will tell you how to use it. Are you +prepared? Shall we set out?" + +"I am prepared," replied Sybil, in accents hollow as despair; "but let +me speak with Luke before we go." + +"Be brief, then--each moment is precious. Keep a guard upon your tongue. +I will to Mrs. Mowbray. You have placed the phial in safety. A drop will +free you from your troubles." + +"'Tis in that hope I guard it," replied Sybil, as she departed in the +direction of Luke. Barbara watched her join him, and then turned shortly +towards Mrs. Mowbray and her daughter. + +"You are ill, dear Luke," said Sybil, who had silently approached her +faithless lover; "very ill." + +"Ill!" echoed Luke, breaking into frantic laughter. "Ill! Ha, ha!--upon +my wedding-day. No, I am well--well. Your eyes are jaundiced by +jealousy." + +"Luke, dear Luke, laugh not thus. It terrifies me. I shall think you +insane. There, you are calmer--you are more like yourself--more human. +You looked just now--oh God! that I should say it of you--as if you were +possessed by demons." + +"And if I were possessed, what then?" + +"Horrible! hint not at it. You almost make me credit the dreadful tales +I have heard, that on their wedding-day the Rookwoods are subject to the +power of the 'Evil One.'" + +"Upon their wedding-day--and _I_ look thus?" + +"You do--you do. Oh! cast this frenzy from you." + +"She is mine--she is mine! I care not though fiends possess me, if it is +my wedding-day, and Eleanor is my bride. And you say I look like a +Rookwood. Ha, ha!" + +"That wild laughter again. Luke, I implore you, hear me one word--my +last----" + +"I will not bear reproaches." + +"I mean not to reproach you. I come to bless you--to forgive you--to bid +you farewell. Will you not say farewell?" + +"Farewell." + +"Not so--not so. Mercy! my God! compassionate him and me! My heart will +break with agony. Luke, if you would not kill me, recall that word. Let +not the guilt of my death be yours. 'Tis to save you from that remorse +that I die!" + +"Sybil, you have said rightly, I am not myself. I know not what demons +have possession of my soul, that I can behold your agonies without +remorse; that your matchless affection should awaken no return. Yet so +it is. Since the fatal moment when I beheld yon maid, I have loved her." + +"No more. _Now_ I can part with you. Farewell!" + +"Stay, stay! wretch that I am. Stay, Sybil! If we must part--and that it +_must_ be so I feel--let me receive your pardon, if you can bestow it. +Let me clasp you once more within my arms. May you live to happier +days--may you----" + +"Oh, to die thus!" sobbed Sybil, disengaging herself from his embrace. +"Live to happier days, said you? When have _I_ given you reason to +doubt, for an instant, the sincerity of _my_ love, that you should +insult me thus?" + +"Then live with me--live for me." + +"If you can love me still, I will live as your slave, your minion, your +wife; aught you will have me be. You have raised me from wretchedness. +Oh!" continued she in an altered tone, "have I mistaken your meaning? +Did you utter those words in false compassion for my sufferings?--Speak, +it is not yet too late--all may be well. My fate--my life is in your +hands. If you love me yet--if you can forsake Eleanor, speak--if not, be +silent." + +Luke averted his head. + +"Enough!" continued Sybil, in a voice of agony; "I understand. May God +forgive you! Fare you well! We shall meet no more." + +"Do we part for ever?" asked Luke, without daring to regard her. + +"FOR EVER!" answered Sybil. + +Before her lover could reply, she shot from his side, and plunging +amidst the dark and dense assemblage near the door, disappeared from +view. An instant after, she emerged into the open air. She stood within +the roofless hall. It was filled with sunshine--with the fresh breath of +morn. The ivied ruins, the grassy floor, the blue vault of heaven, +seemed to greet her with a benignant smile. All was _riant_ and +rejoicing--all, save her heart. Amid such brightness, her sorrow seemed +harsh and unnatural; as she felt the glad influence of day, she was +scarcely able to refrain from tears. It was terrible to leave this +beautiful world, that blue sky, that sunshine, and all she loved--so +young, so soon. + +Entering a low arch that yawned within the wall, she vanished like a +ghost at the approach of morn. + + + + +_CHAPTER IX_ + +_THE PHILTER_ + + Thou hast practised on her with foul charms-- + Abused her delicate youth with drugs and minerals. + + SHAKSPEARE: _Othello_. + + +To return to Eleanor Mowbray. In a state of mind bordering upon +distraction, she rushed to her mother, and, flinging her arms wildly +round her neck, besought her to protect her. Mrs. Mowbray gazed +anxiously upon the altered countenance of her daughter, but a few +moments relieved her from much of her uneasiness.--The expression of +pain gradually subsided, and the look of vacuity was succeeded by one of +frenzied excitement. A film had, for an instant or two, dimmed her eyes; +they now gleamed with unnatural lustre. She smiled--the smile was +singular; it was not the playful, pleasurable lighting up of the face +that it used to be; but it _was_ a smile, and the mother's heart was +satisfied. + +Mrs. Mowbray knew not to what circumstance she could attribute this +wondrous change. She looked at the priest. He was more apt in divining +the probable cause of the sudden alteration in Eleanor's manner. + +"What if she has swallowed a love-powder?" said he, approaching Mrs. +Mowbray, and speaking in a whisper. "I have heard of such abominable +mixtures; indeed, the holy St. Jerome himself relates an instance of +similar sorcery, in his life of Hilarius; and these people are said to +compound them." + +"It may be so," replied Mrs. Mowbray, in the same tone. "I think that +the peculiar softness in the eye is more than natural." + +"I will at least hazard an experiment, to attest the truth or fallacy of +my supposition," returned the father. "Do you see your destined +bridegroom yonder?" continued he, addressing Eleanor. + +She followed with her eyes in the direction which Father Ambrose +pointed. She beheld Luke. We know not how to describe the sensations +which now possessed her. She thought not of Ranulph; or, if she did, it +was with vague indifference. Wrapped in a kind of mental trance, she +yielded to the pleasurable impulse that directed her unsettled fancies +towards Luke. For some moments she did not take her eyes from him. The +priest and Mrs. Mowbray watched her in silence. + +Nothing passed between the party till Luke joined them. Eleanor +continued gazing at him, and the seeming tenderness of her glance +emboldened Luke to advance towards her. The soft fire that dwelt in +those orbs was, however, cold as the shining wing of the luciola. + +Luke approached her; he took her hand--she withdrew it not. He kissed +it. Still she withdrew it not, but gazed at him with gently-glimmering +eyes. + +"My daughter is yours, Sir Luke Rookwood," exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray. + +"What says the maid herself?" asked Luke. + +Eleanor answered not. Her eyes were still fixed on him. + +"She will not refuse me her hand," said Luke. + +The victim resisted not. + +"To the subterranean shrine," cried Barbara. And she gave the +preconcerted signal to the band. + +The signal was repeated by the gipsy crew. We may here casually note, +that the crew had been by no means uninterested or silent spectators of +passing events, but had, on the contrary, indulged themselves in a +variety of conjectures as to their probable issue. Several bets were +pending as to whether it would be a match or not after all. Zoroaster +took long odds that the match was off--offering a _bean_ to +_half-a-quid_--in other words, a guinea to a half-guinea--that Sybil +would be the bride. His offer was taken at once by Jerry Juniper, and +backed by the knight of Malta. + +"Ha! there's the signal," cried the knight; "I'll trouble you for the +bean." + +"And I," added Jerry Juniper, "for another." + +"See 'em fairly spliced first," replied the Magus; "that's vot I +betted." + +"Vell, vell, a few minutes will settle that. Come, pals, to the autem +ken. Avay. Mind and obey orders." + +"Ay, ay," answered the crew. + +"Here's a torch for the altar of Hymen," said the knight, flashing his +torch in the eyes of the patrico as he passed him. + +"For the halter of Haman, you might say," returned Balthazar, sulkily. +"It's well if some of us don't swing for it." + +"You don't say," rejoined the perplexed Magus, "swing! Egad I fear it's +a ticklish business. But there's no fighting shy, I fear, with Barbara +present; and then there's that infernal autem-bawler; it will be so +cursedly regular. If you had done the job, Balty, it would not have +signified a brass farden. Luckily there will be no vitnesses to snitch +upon us. There will be no one in the vault besides ourselves." + +"There will be a silent and a solemn witness," returned Balthazar, "and +one whom you expect not." + +"Eh! Vot's that you say? a spy?" + +But the patrico was gone. + +"Make way there--make way, pals, for the bride and bridegroom," cried +the knight of Malta, drawing Excalibur, and preparing to lead the way to +the vault. + +The train began to move. Eleanor leaned upon the arm of her mother. +Beside them stalked Barbara, with an aspect of triumph. Luke followed +with the priest. One by one the assemblage quitted the apartment. + +The sexton alone lingered. "The moment is at hand," said he, musingly, +"when all shall be consummated." + +A few steps brought him into the court. The crowd was there still. A +brief delay had taken place. The knight of Malta then entered the mouth +of the vault. He held his torch so as to reveal a broken flight of +steps, conducting, it would seem, to regions of perpetual night. So +thought Eleanor, as she shudderingly gazed into the abyss. She +hesitated; she trembled; she refused. But her mother's entreaties, and +Barbara's threatening looks, induced, in the end, reluctant compliance. +At length the place was empty. Peter was about to follow, when the sound +of a horse's hoofs broke upon his ear. He tarried for an instant, and +the mounted figure of the highwayman burst within the limits of the +court. + +"Ha, ha! old earthworm," cried Dick, "my Nestor of the churchyard, +alone! Where the devil are all the folks gone? Where's Sir Luke and his +new-found cousin, eh?" + +Peter hastily explained. + +"A wedding under ground? famous! the thing of all others I should like +to see. I'll hang Bess to this ivy tod, and grub my way with you +thither, old mole." + +"You must stay here, and keep guard," returned Peter. + +"May I be hanged if I do, when such fun is going on." + +"Hanged, in all probability, you will be," returned Peter; "but I should +not, were I you, desire to anticipate my destiny. Stay here you must, +and shall--that's peremptory. You will be the gainer by it. Sir Luke +will reward you nobly. I will answer for him. You can serve him most +effectually. Ranulph Rookwood and Major Mowbray are expected here." + +"The devil they are. But how, or why----" + +"I have not time to explain. In case of a surprise, discharge a pistol; +they must not enter the vault. Have you a whistle? for you must play a +double part, and we may need your assistance below." + +"Sir Luke may command me. Here's a pipe as shrill as the devil's own +cat-call." + +"If it will summon you to our assistance below, 'tis all I need. May we +rely on you?" + +"When did Dick Turpin desert his friends? Anywhere on this side the Styx +the sound of that whistle will reach me. I'll ride about the court, and +stand sentry." + +"Enough," replied the sexton, as he dived under ground. + +"Take care of your shins," shouted Dick. "That's a cursed ugly turn, but +he's used to the dark. A surprise, eh! I'll just give a look to my +snappers--flints all safe. Now I'm ready for them, come when they like." +And, having made the circuit of the place, he halted near the mouth of +the subterranean chapel, to be within hearing of Peter's whistle, and, +throwing his right leg lazily over his saddle, proceeded coolly to light +a short pipe--the luxury of the cigar being then unknown,--humming the +while snatches of a ballad, the theme of which was his own calling. + + THE SCAMPSMAN + + Quis ver rex? + SENECA. + + There is not a king, should you search the world round, + So blithe as the king of the road to be found; + His pistol's his sceptre, his saddle's his throne, + Whence he levies supplies, or enforces a loan. + _Derry down._ + + To this monarch the highway presents a wide field, + Where each passing subject a tribute must yield; + His palace--the tavern!--receives him at night, + Where sweet lips and sound liquor crown all with delight. + _Derry down._ + + The soldier and sailor, both robbers by trade, + Full soon on the shelf, if disabled, are laid; + The one gets a patch, and the other a peg, + But, while luck lasts, the highwayman shakes a loose leg! + _Derry down._ + + Most fowl rise at dawn, but the owl wakes at e'en, + And a jollier bird can there nowhere be seen; + Like the owl, our snug scampsman his snooze takes by day, + And, when night draws her curtain, scuds after his prey! + _Derry down._ + + As the highwayman's life is the fullest of zest, + So the highwayman's death is the briefest and best; + He dies not as other men die, by _degrees_! + But AT ONCE! without wincing, and quite at his ease! + _Derry down._ + +And thus, for the present, we leave him. O rare Dick Turpin! + + + + +_CHAPTER X_ + +_SAINT CYPRIAN'S CELL_ + + Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch' entrate. + + DANTE. + + +Cyprian de Mulverton, fifth prior of the monastery of Saint Francis, a +prelate of singular sanctity, being afflicted, in his latter days, with +a despondency so deep that neither penance nor fasting could remove it, +vowed never again to behold, with earthly eyes, the blessed light of +heaven, nor to dwell longer with his fellowmen; but, relinquishing his +spiritual dignity, "the world forgetting, by the world forgot," to +immure himself, while living, within the tomb. + +He kept his vow. Out of the living rock that sustained the saintly +structure, beneath the chapel of the monastery, was another chapel +wrought, and thither, after bidding an eternal farewell to the world, +and bestowing his benediction upon his flock, whom he committed to the +care of his successor, the holy man retired. + +Never, save at midnight, and then only during the performance of masses +for his soul's repose, did he ascend from his cell: and as the sole +light allowed within the dismal dungeon of his choice was that of a +sepulchral lamp, as none spoke with him when in his retreat, save in +muttered syllables, what effect must the lustre emanating from a +thousand tapers, the warm and pungent odors of the incense-breathing +shrine, contrasted with the earthy vapors of his prison-house, and the +solemn swell of the Sanctus, have had upon his excited senses? Surely +they must have seemed like a foretaste of the heaven he sought to gain! + +Ascetic to the severest point to which nature's endurance could be +stretched, Cyprian even denied himself repose. He sought not sleep, and +knew it only when it stole on him unawares. His couch was the flinty +rock; and long afterwards, when the zealous resorted to the sainted +prior's cell, and were shown those sharp and jagged stones, they +marvelled how one like unto themselves could rest, or even recline upon +their points without anguish, until it was explained to them that, +doubtless, He who tempereth the wind to the shorn lamb had made that +flinty couch soft to the holy sufferer as a bed of down. His limbs were +clothed in a garb of horsehair of the coarsest fabric; his drink was the +dank drops that oozed from the porous walls of his cell; and his +sustenance, such morsels as were bestowed upon him by the poor--the only +strangers permitted to approach him. No fire was suffered, where +perpetual winter reigned. None were admitted to his nightly vigils; +none witnessed any act of penance; nor were any groans heard to issue +from that dreary cave; but the knotted, blood-stained thong, discovered +near his couch, too plainly betrayed in what manner those long lone +nights were spent. Thus did a year roll on. Traces of his sufferings +were visible in his failing strength. He could scarcely crawl; but he +meekly declined assistance. He appeared not, as had been his wont, at +the midnight mass; the door of his cell was thrown open at that hour; +the light streamed down like a glory upon his reverend head; he heard +the distant reverberations of the deep _Miserere_; and breathed odors as +if wafted from Paradise. + +One morn it chanced that they who sought his cell found him with his +head upon his bosom, kneeling before the image of the virgin patroness +of his shrine. Fearing to disturb his devotions, they stood reverently +looking on; and thus silently did they tarry for an hour; but, as in +that space he had shown no signs of motion, fearing the worst, they +ventured to approach him. He was cold as the marble before which he +knelt. In the act of humblest intercession--it may be, in the hope of +grace--had Cyprian's spirit fled. + +"Blessed are they who die in the Lord," exclaimed his brethren, +regarding his remains with deepest awe. On being touched, the body fell +to the ground. It was little more than a skeleton. + +Under the cloisters of the holy pile were his bones interred, with a +degree of pomp and ostentation that little accorded with the lowliness +and self-abasement of this man of many sorrows. + +This chapel, at the time of which we treat, was pretty much in the same +condition as it existed in the days of its holy inmate. Hewn out of the +entrails of the rock, the roof, the vaults, the floor, were of solid +granite. Three huge cylindrical pillars, carved out of the native rock, +rough as the stems of gnarled oak-trees, lent support to the ceiling. +Support, however, was unneeded; an earthquake would scarce have shaken +down those solid rafters. Only in one corner, where the water welled +through a crevice of the rock, in drops that fell like tears, was decay +manifest. Here the stone, worn by the constant dripping, had, in some +places, given way. In shape, the vault was circular. The integral +between each massive pillar formed a pointed arch. Again, from each +pillar sprang other arches, which, crossed by diagonal, ogive branches, +weaving one into the other, and radiating from the centre, formed those +beautifully intricate combinations upon which the eye of the +architectural enthusiast loves to linger. Within the ring formed by +these triple columns, in which again the pillars had their own web of +arches, was placed an altar of stone, and beside it a crucifix of the +same rude material. Here also stood the sainted image of her who had +filled the prior with holy aspirations, now a shapeless stone. The dim +lamp, that, like a star struggling with the thick gloom of a wintry +cell, had shed its slender radiance over the brow of the Virgin Thecla, +was gone. But around the keystone of the central arches, whence a chain +had once depended, might be traced in ancient characters, half effaced +by time, the inscription: + + STA. THECLA ORA PRO NOBIS. + +One outlet only was there from the chapel--that which led by winding +steps to the monastery; one only recess--the prior's cell. The former +faced the altar; the latter yawned like the mouth of a tomb at its back. +Altogether it was a dreary place. Dumb were its walls as when they +refused to return the murmured orisons of the anchorite. One uniform sad +coloring prevailed throughout. The gray granite was grown hoar with age, +and had a ghostly look; the columns were ponderous, and projected heavy +shadows. Sorrow and superstition had their tale, and a moral gloom +deepened the darkness of the spot. Despair, which had inspired its +construction, seemed to brood therein. Hope shunned its inexorable +recesses. + +Alone, within this dismal sanctuary, with hands outstretched towards the +desecrated image of its tutelar saint, knelt Sybil. All was darkness. +Neither the heavy vapors that surrounded her, nor the shrine before +which she bent, were visible; but, familiar with the dreary spot, she +knew that she had placed herself aright. Her touch had satisfied her +that she bowed before the altar of stone; that her benighted vision was +turned towards the broken image of the saint, though now involved in +gloom the most profound; and with clasped hands and streaming eyes, in +low and mournful tones, she addressed herself in the following hymn to +the tutelar saint of the spot: + + HYMN TO SAINT THECLA + + In my trouble, in my anguish, + In the depths of my despair, + As in grief and pain I languish, + Unto thee I raise my prayer. + Sainted virgin! martyr'd maiden! + Let thy countenance incline + Upon one with woes o'erladen, + Kneeling lowly at thy shrine; + That in agony, in terror, + In her blind perplexity, + Wandering weak in doubt and error, + Calleth feebly upon thee. + Sinful thoughts, sweet saint, oppress me, + Thoughts that will not be dismissed; + Temptations dark possess me, + Which my strength may not resist. + I am full of pain, and weary + Of my life; I fain would die: + Unto me the world is dreary; + To the grave for rest I fly. + For rest!--oh! could I borrow + Thy bright wings, celestial dove! + They should waft me from my sorrow, + Where peace dwells in bowers above. + Upon one with woes o'erladen, + Kneeling lowly at thy shrine; + Sainted virgin! martyr'd maiden! + Let thy countenance incline! + _Mei miserere Virgo, + Requiem ternam dona!_ + + By thy loveliness, thy purity, + Unpolluted, undefiled, + That in serene security + Upon earth's temptations smiled;-- + By the fetters that constrain'd thee, + By thy flame-attested faith, + By the fervor that sustain'd thee, + By thine angel-ushered death;-- + By thy soul's divine elation, + 'Mid thine agonies assuring + Of thy sanctified translation + To beatitude enduring;-- + By the mystic interfusion + Of thy spirit with the rays, + That in ever bright profusion + Round the Throne Eternal blaze;-- + By thy portion now partaken, + With the pain-perfected just; + Look on one of hope forsaken, + From the gates, of mercy thrust. + Upon one with woes o'erladen, + Kneeling lowly at thy shrine, + Sainted virgin! martyr'd maiden! + Let thy countenance incline! + _Ora pro me mortis hor! + Sancta Virgo, oro te! + Kyrie Eleison!_ + +The sweet, sad voice of the singer died faintly away. The sharpness of +her sorrow was assuaged. Seldom, indeed, is it that fervent +supplication fails to call down solace to the afflicted. Sybil became +more composed. She still, however, trembled at the thoughts of what +remained to be done. + +"They will be here ere my prayer is finished," murmured she--"ere the +end is accomplished for which I came hither alone. Let me, oh! let me +make my peace with my Creator, ere I surrender my being to His hands, +and then let them deal with me as they will." And she bowed her head in +lowly prayer. + +Again raising her hands, and casting her eyes towards the black ceiling, +she implored, in song, the intercession of the saintly man who had +bequeathed his name to the cell. + + HYMN TO SAINT CYPRIAN + + Hear! oh! hear me, sufferer holy, + Who didst make thine habitation + 'Mid these rocks, devoting wholly + Life to one long expiation + Of thy guiltiness, and solely + By severe mortification + Didst deliver thee. Oh! hear me! + In my dying moments cheer me. + By thy penance, self-denial, + Aid me in the hour of trial. + + May, through thee, my prayers prevailing + On the Majesty of Heaven, + O'er the hosts of hell, assailing + My soul, in this dark hour be driven! + So my spirit, when exhaling, + May of sinfulness be shriven, + And His gift unto the Giver + May be rendered pure as ever! + By thy own dark, dread possession, + Aid me with thine intercession! + +Scarcely had she concluded this hymn, when the torch of the knight of +Malta in part dissipated the gloom that hung around the chapel. + + + + +_CHAPTER XI_ + +_THE BRIDAL_ + + _Cari._ I will not die; I must not. I am contracted + To a young gentleman. + + _Executioner._ Here's your wedding-ring. + + _Duchess of Malfy._ + + +Slowly did the train descend; solemnly and in silence, as if the rites +at which they were about to assist had been those of funereal, and not +of nuptial, solemnization. Indeed, to look upon those wild and fierce +faces by the ruddily-flashing torchlight, which lent to each a stern and +savage expression; to see those scowling visages surrounding a bride +from whose pallid cheeks every vestige of color, and almost of +animation, had fled; and a bridegroom, with a countenance yet more +haggard, and demeanor yet more distracted--the beholder must have +imagined that the spectacle was some horrible ceremonial, practised by +demons rather than human beings. The arched vault, the pillars, the +torchlight, the deep shadows, and the wild figures, formed a picture +worthy of Rembrandt or Salvator. + +"Is Sybil within the chapel?" asked Barbara. + +"I am here," returned a voice from the altar. + +"Why do we tarry?" said the gipsy queen. "We are all assembled. To the +altar." + +"To the altar!" shrieked Eleanor. "Oh! no--no----" + +"Remember my threat, and obey," muttered Barbara. "You are in my power +now." + +A convulsive sob was all the answer Eleanor could make. + +"Our number is not complete," said the priest, who had looked in vain +for the sexton. "Peter Bradley is not with us." + +"Ha!" exclaimed Barbara. "Let him be sought for instantly." + +"Their search need not extend beyond this spot," said Peter, stepping +forward. + +The knight of Malta advanced towards the altar. The torchlight reddened +upon the huge stone pillars. It fell upon the shrine, and upon the +ghastly countenance of Sybil, who stood beside it. Suddenly, as the +light approached her, an object, hitherto hidden from view, was +revealed. Sybil uttered a prolonged and fearful shriek; the knight +recoiled likewise in horror; and a simultaneous cry of astonishment +burst from the lips of the foremost of the group. All crowded forwards, +and universal consternation prevailed amongst the assemblage. Each one +gazed at his neighbor, anxious to learn the occasion of this tumult, and +vague fears were communicated to those behind, from the terrified +glances, which were the only answers returned by their comrades in +front. + +"Who has dared to bring that body here?" demanded Barbara, in a tone in +which anger struggled with apprehension, pointing at the same time to +the ghastly corpse of a female, with streaming hair, at the altar's +feet. "Who has dared to do this, I say? Quick! remove it. What do you +stare at? Cravens! is this the first time you have looked upon a corpse, +that you should shrink aghast--that you tremble before it? It is a +clod--ay, less than a clod. Away with it! away, I say." + +"Touch it not," cried Luke, lifting a cloud of black hair from off the +features; "it is my mother's body." + +"My daughter!" exclaimed the sexton. + +"What!" vociferated Barbara, "is that your daughter--is that the first +Lady Rookwood? Are the dead arisen to do honor to these nuptials? Speak! +you can, perchance, explain how she came hither." + +"I know not," returned Peter, glancing fiercely at Barbara; "I may, +anon, demand that question of you. How came this body here?" + +"Ask of Richard Checkley," said Barbara, turning to the priest. "He can, +perchance, inform you. Priest," added she, in a low voice, "this is your +handiwork." + +"Checkley!" screamed Peter. "Is that Richard Checkley? is that----" + +"Peace!" thundered Barbara; "will none remove the body? Once more I ask +you, do you fear the dead?" + +A murmur arose. Balthazar alone ventured to approach the corpse. + +Luke started to his feet as he advanced, his eyes glaring with tiger +fury. + +"Back, old man," cried he, "and dare not, any of you, to lay a +sacrilegious finger on her corse, or I will stretch him that advances as +lowly as lies my mother's head. When or how it came hither matters not. +Here, at the altar, has it been placed, and none shall move it hence. +The dead shall witness my nuptials. Fate has ordained it--_my_ fate! +o'er which the dead preside. Her ring shall link me to my bride. I knew +not, when I snatched it from her death-cold finger, to what end I +preserved it. I learn it now. It is here." And he held forth a ring. + +"'Tis a fatal boon, that twice-used ring," cried Sybil; "such a ring my +mother, on her death-bed, said should be mine. Such a ring she said +should wed me----" + +"Unto whom?" fiercely demanded Luke. + +"UNTO DEATH!" she solemnly rejoined. + +Luke's countenance fell. He turned aside, deeply abashed, unable further +to brook her gaze; while in accents of such wildly touching pathos as +sank into the hearts of each who heard her--hearts, few of them framed +of penetrable stuff--the despairing maiden burst into the following +strain: + + THE TWICE-USED RING + + "Beware thy bridal day!" + On her death-bed sighed my mother; + "Beware, beware, I say, + Death shall wed thee, and no other. + Cold the hand shall grasp thee, + Cold the arms shall clasp thee, + Colder lips thy kiss shall smother! + Beware thy bridal kiss! + + "Thy wedding ring shall be + From a clay-cold finger taken; + From one that, like to thee, + Was by her love forsaken. + For a twice-used ring + Is a fatal thing; + Her griefs who wore it are partaken--, + Beware that fatal ring! + + "The altar and the grave + Many steps are not asunder; + Bright banners o'er thee wave, + Shrouded horror lieth under. + Blithe may sound the bell, + Yet 'twill toll thy knell; + Scathed thy chaplet by the thunder-- + Beware that blighted wreath!" + + Beware my bridal day! + Dying lips my doom have spoken; + Deep tones call me away; + From the grave is sent a token. + Cold, cold fingers bring + That ill-omen'd ring; + Soon will a _second_ heart be broken; + _This_ is my bridal day. + +There was a deep, profound silence as the last melancholy cadence died +away, and many a rugged heart was melted, even to tears. Eleanor, +meanwhile, remained in a state of passive stupefaction, vacantly gazing +at Sybil, upon whom alone her eyes were fixed, and appearing +indistinctly to apprehend the meaning of her song. + +"This is my bridal day," murmured she, in a low tone, when Sybil had +finished. "Said not that sweet voice so? I know 'tis my bridal day. What +a church you have chosen, mother! A tomb--a sepulchre--but 'tis meet for +such nuptials as mine--and what wedding guests! Was that pale woman in +her shroud-like dress invited here by you? Tell me that, mother." + +"My God, her senses are gone!" cried Mrs. Mowbray. "Why did I venture +into this horrible place?" + +"Ask not _why_ now, madam," rejoined the priest. "The hour for +consideration is past. We must act. Let the marriage proceed, at all +hazards; we will then take means to extricate ourselves from this +accursed place." + +"Remove that horrible object," said Mrs. Mowbray; "it fascinates the +vision of my child." + +"Lend me your hand, Richard Checkley," said Peter, sternly regarding the +priest. + +"No, no," replied the priest, shuddering; "I will not, cannot touch it. +Do you alone remove it." + +Peter approached Luke. The latter now offered no further opposition, and +the body was taken away. The eyes of Eleanor followed it into the dark +recesses of the vault; and when she could no longer distinguish the +white flutter of the cereclothes, her laboring bosom seemed torn asunder +with the profound sigh that burst from it, and her head declined upon +her shoulder. + +"Let me see that ring," said the priest, addressing Luke, who still held +the wedding-ring between his fingers. + +"I am not naturally superstitious," said Mrs. Mowbray; "whether my mind +be affected with the horrors of this place, I know not; but I have a +dread of that ring. She shall not use it." + +"Where no other can be found," said the priest, with a significant and +peculiar look at Mrs. Mowbray, "I see no reason why this should be +rejected. I should not have suspected you, madam, of such weakness. +Grant there were evil spell, or charm, attached to it, which, trust me, +there is _not_--as how should there be, to a harmless piece of gold?--my +benediction, and aspersion with holy lymph, will have sufficient power +to exorcise and expel it. To remove your fears it shall be done at +once." + +A cup containing water was brought, together with a plate of salt--which +condiment the devil is said to abhor, and which is held to be a symbol +of immortality and of eternity; in that, being itself incorruptible, it +preserves all else from corruption,--and, with the customary Romish +formula of prayer and exorcism, the priest thrice mingled the crystal +particles with the pure fluid; after which, taking the ring in his hand +with much solemnity, he sprinkled it with a few drops of the water which +he had blessed; made the sign of the cross upon the golden circlet; +uttered another and more potent exorcism to eradicate and expel every +device of Satan, and delivered it back to Luke. + +"She may wear it now in safety," said the sexton, with strong contempt. +"Were the snake himself coiled round that consecrated bauble, the +prayers of the devout Father Checkley would unclasp his lithest folds. +But wherefore do we tarry now? Naught lies between us and the altar. The +path is clear. The bridegroom grows impatient." + +"And the bride?" asked Barbara. + +"Is ready," replied the priest. "Madam, delay not longer. Daughter, your +hand." + +Eleanor gave her hand. It was clammy and cold. Supported by her mother, +she moved slowly towards the altar, which was but a few steps from where +they stood. She offered no resistance, but did not raise her head. Luke +was by her side. Then for the first time did the enormity of the cruel, +dishonorable act he was about to commit, strike him with its full +force. He saw it in its darkest colors. It was one of those terrible +moments when the headlong wheel of passion stands suddenly still. + +"There is yet time," groaned he. "Oh! let me not damn myself +perpetually! Let me save her; save Sybil; save myself." + +They were at the altar--that wild wedding train. High over head the +torch was raised. The red light flashed on bridegroom and on bride, +giving to the pale features of each an almost livid look; it fell upon +the gaunt aspect of the sexton, and lit up the smile of triumphant +malice that played upon his face; it fell upon the fantastical +habiliments of Barbara, and upon the haughty but perturbed physiognomy +of Mrs. Mowbray; it fell upon the salient points of the Gothic arches; +upon one molded pillar; upon the marble image of the virgin Thecla; and +on the scarcely less marble countenance of Sybil who stood behind the +altar, silent, statue-like, immovable. The effect of light and shade on +other parts of the scene, upon the wild drapery, and harsh lineaments of +many of the group, was also eminently striking. + +Just as the priest was about to commence the marriage service, a yelling +chorus, which the gipsies were accustomed to sing at the celebration of +the nuptials of one of their own tribe, burst forth. Nothing could be +more horribly discordant than their song. + + WEDDING CHORUS OF GIPSIES + + Scrape the catgut! pass the liquor! + Let your quick feet move the quicker. + Ta-ra-la! + + Dance and sing in jolly chorus, + Bride and bridegroom are before us, + And the patrico stands o'er us. + Ta-ra-la! + + To unite their hands he's ready; + For a moment, pals, be steady; + Cease your quaffing, + Dancing, laughing; + Leave off riot, + And be quiet, + While 'tis doing. + 'Tis begun, + All is over! + Two are ONE! + The patrico has link'd 'em; + Daddy Hymen's torch has blink'd 'em. + Amen! + To 't again! + Now for quaffing, + Now for laughing, + Stocking-throwing, + Liquor flowing; + For our bridals are no bridles, and our altars never alter; + From the flagon never flinch we, in the jig we never falter. + No! that's not _our_ way, for _we_ + Are staunch lads of Romany. + For our wedding, then, hurrah! + Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! + +This uncouth chorus ended, the marriage proceeded. Sybil had +disappeared. Had she fled? No! she was by the bride. Eleanor +mechanically took her place. A faint voice syllabled the responses. You +could scarcely have seen Miss Mowbray's lips move. But the answers were +given, and the priest was satisfied. + +He took the ring, and sprinkled it once again with the holy water, in +the form of the cross. He pronounced the prayer: "_Benedic, Domine, +annulum hunc, quem nos in tuo nomine benedicimus, ut qu eum gestaverit, +fidelitatem integram suo sponso tenens, in pace et voluntate tua +permaneat atque in mutua charitate semper vivat._" + +He was about to return the ring to Luke, when the torch, held by the +knight of Malta, was dashed to the ground by some unseen hand, and +instantly extinguished. The wild pageant vanished as suddenly as the +figures cast by a magic-lantern upon a wall disappear when the glass is +removed. A wild hubbub succeeded. Hoarsely above the clamor arose the +voice of Barbara. + +"To the door, quickly!--to the door! Let no one pass, I will find out +the author of this mishap anon. Away!" + +She was obeyed. Several of the crew stationed themselves at the door. + +"Proceed now with the ceremony," continued Barbara. "By darkness, or by +light, the match shall be completed." + +The ring was then placed upon the finger of the bride; and as Luke +touched it, he shuddered. It was cold as that of the corpse which he had +clasped but now. The prayer was said, the blessing given, the marriage +was complete. + +Suddenly there issued from the darkness deep dirge-like tones, and a +voice solemnly chanted a strain, which all knew to be the death-song of +their race, hymned by wailing women over an expiring sister. The music +seemed to float in the air. + + THE SOUL-BELL + + Fast the sand of life is falling, + Fast her latest sigh exhaling, + Fast, fast, is she dying. + + With death's chills her limbs are shivering, + With death's gasp the lips are quivering, + Fast her soul away is flying. + + O'er the mountain-top it fleeteth, + And the skyey wonders greeteth, + Singing loud as stars it meeteth + On its way. + + Hark! the sullen Soul-bell tolling, + Hollowly in echoes rolling, + Seems to say-- + + "She will ope her eyes--oh, never! + Quenched their dark light--gone for ever! + She is dead." + +The marriage group yet lingered near the altar, awaiting, it would seem, +permission from the gipsy queen to quit the cell. Luke stirred not. +Clasped in his own, the cold hand of his bride detained him; and when he +would have moved, her tightened grasp prevented his departure. + +Mrs. Mowbray's patience was exhausted by the delay. She was not +altogether free from apprehension. "Why do we linger here?" she +whispered to the priest. "Do you, father, lead the way." + +"The crowd is dense," replied Checkley. "They resist my effort." + +"Are we prisoners here?" asked Mrs. Mowbray, in alarm. + +"Let me make the attempt," cried Luke, with fiery impatience. "I will +force a passage out." + +"Quit not your bride," whispered Peter, "as you value her safety. Heed +not aught else. She alone is in danger. Suffer her not to be withdrawn +from your hand, if you would not lose her. Remain here. I will bring the +matter to a speedy issue." + +"Enough," replied Luke; "I stir not hence." And he drew his bride closer +towards him. He stooped to imprint a kiss upon her lips. A cold shudder +ran through her frame as he touched them, but she resisted not his +embrace. + +Peter's attempt to effect an egress was as unsuccessful as that of the +priest. Presenting Excalibur at his bosom, the knight of Malta +challenged him to stand. + +"You cannot pass," exclaimed the knight; "our orders are peremptory." + +"What am I to understand by this?" said Peter, angrily. "Why are we +detained?" + +"You will learn all anon," returned Barbara. "In the meantime you are my +prisoners--or, if you like not the phrase, my wedding guests." + +"The wedding is complete," returned the sexton; "the bride and +bridegroom are impatient to depart, and we, the guests--albeit some of +us may be no foes to darkness--desire not to hold our nuptial revels +here." + +"Sybil's wedding has not taken place," said Barbara; "you must tarry for +that." + +"Ha! now it comes," thought Peter. "And who, may I ask," said he, aloud, +"amongst this goodly company, is to be her bridegroom?" + +"The best amongst them," returned Barbara--"Sir Luke Rookwood." + +"He has a bride already," replied Peter. + +"She may be _removed_," said Barbara, with bitter and peculiar emphasis. +"Dost understand my meaning now?" + +"I will not understand it," said Peter. "You cannot mean to destroy her +who now stands at the altar?" + +"She who now stands at the altar must make way for a successor. She who +grasps the bridegroom's hand shall die. I swear it by the oath of my +tribe." + +"And think you, you will be allowed to execute your murderous intention +with impunity?" shrieked Mrs. Mowbray, in an agony of terror. "Think you +that I will stand by and see my child slaughtered before my face; that +my friends will suffer it? Think you that even your own tribe will dare +to execute your horrible purpose? They will not. They will side with us. +Even now they murmur. What can you hope to gain by an act so wild and +dreadful? What object can you have?" + +"The same as your own," reiterated Barbara--"the advancement of my +child. Sybil is as dear to me as Eleanor is to you. She is my child's +child, the daughter of my best beloved daughter. I have sworn to marry +her to Sir Luke Rookwood. The means are in my power. I will keep my vow; +I will wed her to him. You did not hesitate to tear your daughter from +the man she loved, to give her to the man she hated; and for what? For +gold--for power--for rank. I have the same motive. I love my child, and +she loves Sir Luke--has loved him long and truly; therefore shall she +have him. What to me is _your_ child, or _your_ feelings, except they +are subservient to my wishes? She stands in my way. I remove her." + +"Who placed her in your path?" asked the sexton. "Did you not lend a +helping hand to create that obstacle yourself?" + +"I did," replied Barbara. "Would you know wherefore? I will tell you. I +had a double motive for it. There is a curse upon the house of Rookwood, +that kills the first fair bride each generation leads to the altar. Have +you never heard of it?" + +"I have! And did that idle legend sway you?" + +"And do you call it idle? _You!_ Well--I had another motive--a +prophecy." + +"By yourself uttered," replied Peter. + +"Even so," replied Barbara. "The prophecy is fulfilled. The stray rook +is found. The rook hath with rook mated. Luke hath wedded Eleanor. He +will hold possession of his lands. The prophecy is fulfilled." + +"But _how_?" asked Peter; "will your art tell you how and why he shall +now hold possession? Can you tell me that?" + +"My art goes not so far. I have predicted the event. It has come to +pass. I am satisfied. He has wedded her. Be it mine to free him from +that yoke." And Barbara laughed exultingly. + +The sexton approached the old crone, and laid his hand with violence +upon her shoulder. + +"Hear _me_," cried he, "and I will tell you that which your juggling art +refuses to reveal. Eleanor Mowbray is heir to the lands of Rookwood! The +estates are _hers_! They were bequeathed to her by her grandsire, Sir +Reginald." + +"She was unborn when he died," cried Mrs. Mowbray. + +"True," replied Peter; "but the lands were left to your issue _female_, +should such issue be born." + +"And did Sir Piers, my brother, know of this? did he see this will," +asked Mrs. Mowbray, with trembling impatience. + +"He did; and withheld the knowledge of it from you and yours." + +"Ah! why knew I not this before? Why did you not tell me ere that was +done which cannot be undone? I have sacrificed my child." + +"Because it did not chime with my purposes to tell you," replied Peter, +coldly. + +"It is false--it is false," cried Mrs. Mowbray, her anger and vexation +getting the better of her fears. "I will not believe it. Who are you, +that pretend to know the secrets of our house?" + +"One of that house," replied the sexton. + +"Your name?" + +"Would you know my name?" answered Peter, sternly. "The time is come +when I will no longer conceal it. I am Alan Rookwood." + +"My father's brother!" exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Ay, Alan Rookwood. The sworn enemy of your father--of you--of all of +ye: your fate--your destiny--your curse. I am that Alan Rookwood whose +name you breathed in the vault. I am he, the avenger--the avenged. I saw +your father die. I heard his groans--_his groans!_--ha, ha! I saw his +sons die: one fell in battle--I was with him there. The other expired in +his bed. I was with Sir Piers when he breathed his last, and listened to +his death agonies. 'Twas I who counselled him to keep the lands from you +and from your child, and he withheld them. One only amongst the race, +whose name I have cast off, have I loved; and him--because," added he, +with something like emotion--"because he was my daughter's child--Luke +Rookwood. And even he shall minister to my vengeance. He will be your +curse--your daughter's curse--for he loves her not. Yet he is her +husband, and hath her land;--ha, ha!" And he laughed till he became +convulsed with the paroxysm of fiendish exultation. + +"Mine ears are stunned," cried Mrs. Mowbray. + +"The bride is mine; relinquish her to me," said Barbara. "Advance and +seize her, my children." + +Alan Rookwood--for so we shall henceforth denominate the +sexton--suddenly grew calm: he raised the whistle to his lips, and blew +a call so loud and shrill, that those who were advancing hung back +irresolute. + +There was a rush at the door of the vault. The sentinels were struck +down; and with pistols in each hand, and followed by two assistants, +Dick Turpin sprang into the thick of the crew. + +"Here we are," cried he, "ready for action. Where is Sir Luke Rookwood? +where my churchyard pal, Peter?" + +"Here," cried the sexton and Luke simultaneously. + +"Then stand aside," cried Dick, pushing in the direction of the sounds, +and bearing down all opposition. "Have a care there--these triggers are +ticklish. Friend or foe, he who touches me shall have a bullet in his +gizzard. Here I am, pal Peter; and here are my two chums, Rust and +Wilder. Cut the whid." + +"Have we license to pass scathless now?" asked the sexton; "or shall we +make good our way?" + +"You shall not pass," cried Barbara, furiously. "Think you to rob me of +my prey? What, cowards! do you hesitate? Ha!" + +"Kindle the torches," cried several voices. "We fight not in the dark." + +A pistol was flashed. The torch again blazed. Its light fell upon a +tumultuous group. + +"Seize the bride," cried Barbara. + +"Hold!" exclaimed a voice from the altar. The voice was that of Sybil. + +Her hand was clasped in that of Luke. Eleanor had fainted in the arms of +the gipsy girl Handassah. + +"Are you my bride?" ejaculated Luke, in dismay. + +"Behold the ring upon my finger! Your own hand placed it there." + +"Betrayed!" screamed Alan, in a voice of anguish. "My schemes +annihilated--myself undone--my enemies triumphant--lost! lost! All is +destroyed--all!" + +"Joy! joy!" exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray: "my child is saved." + +"And _mine_ destroyed," groaned Barbara. "I have sworn by the cross to +slay the bride--and Sybil is that bride." + + + + +_CHAPTER XII_ + +_ALAN ROOKWOOD_ + + The wolf shall find her grave, and scrape it up; + Not to devour the corse, but to discover + The horrid murther. + + WEBSTER. + + +"Bravo! capital!" cried Turpin, laughing loud and long as an Olympian +deity; "has this simple wench outwitted you all; turned the tables upon +the whole gang of plotters, eh? Excellent! ha, ha, ha! The next time you +wed, Sir Luke, let me advise you not to choose a wife in the dark. A man +should have all his senses about him on these occasions. Make love when +the liquor's in; marry when it's out, and, above all, with your eyes +open. This beats cock-fighting--ha, ha, ha!--you must excuse me; but, +upon my soul, I can't help it." And his laughter seemed +inextinguishable. + +"Take your men without," whispered Alan Rookwood; "keep watch as before, +and let the discharge of a pistol bespeak the approach of danger as +agreed upon; much yet remains to be done here." + +"How so?" asked Dick; "it seems to me the job's entirely settled--if not +to _your_ satisfaction. I'm always ready to oblige my friend, Sir Luke; +but curse me if I'd lend my help to any underhand work. Steer clear of +foul play, or Dick Turpin holds no hand with you. As to that poor wench, +if you mean her any harm, curse me if I will----" + +"No harm is intended her," replied Alan. "I applaud your magnanimity," +added he, sarcastically; "such sentiments are, it must be owned, in +excellent keeping with your conduct." + +"In keeping or not," replied Turpin, gravely, "cold-blooded murder is +altogether out of my line, and I wash my hands of it. A shot or two in +self defence is another matter; and when----" + +"A truce to this," interrupted Alan; "the girl is safe. Will you mount +guard again?" + +"If that be the case, certainly," replied Dick. "I shall be glad to get +back to Bess. I couldn't bring her with me into this black hole. A +couple of shots will tell you 'tis Ranulph Rookwood. But mind, no harm +to the gipsy girl--to Lady Rookwood, I should say. She's a jewel, take +my word for it, which Sir Luke must be mad to throw away." And calling +his companions, he departed. + +Alan Rookwood bent his steps towards the gipsy queen. Dark thoughts +gathered quickly o'er his brow. He smiled as he drew nigh to Barbara--a +smile it was + + That wrinkled up his skin even to the hair. + +Barbara looked at him at first with distrust; but as he developed his +secret purposes, that smile became reflected upon her own features. +Their conference took place apart. We willingly leave them to return to +the altar. + +Mrs. Mowbray and the priest were still there. Both were occupied in +ineffectual endeavors to restore Eleanor to consciousness. She recovered +from her swoon; but it was evident her senses still wandered; and vainly +did Mrs. Mowbray lavish her tenderest caresses upon her child. Eleanor +returned them not. + +Luke, meanwhile, had given vent to the wildest fury. He shook away +Sybil's grasp; he dashed her from him; he regarded her with withering +glances; he loaded her with reproaches. She bore his violence with +meekest submission; she looked imploringly--but she replied not to his +taunts. Again she clung to the hem of his garment when cast aside. Luke +appeared unmoved; what passed within we pause not to examine. He grew +calmer; his calmness was more terrible to Sybil than his previous wrath +had been. + +"You are my wife," said he; "what then? By fraud, by stratagem, you have +obtained that title, and, perforce, must keep it. But the title _only_ +shall you retain. No rights of wife shall ever be yours. It will be in +your power to call yourself Lady Rookwood--you will be so in name--in +nothing else." + +"I shall not bear it long," murmured Sybil. + +Luke laughed scornfully, "So you said before," replied he; "and yet I +see not why you are likely to abandon it. The event will show. Thus far +you have deceived me, and I place no further faith in your assertions. +My hand was yours; you refused it. When I would give it to another, you +grasp it clandestinely. Am I to believe you now? The wind will +change--the vane veer with it." + +"It will not veer from you," she meekly answered. + +"Why did you step between me and my bride?" + +"To save her life; to lay down mine for hers." + +"An idle subterfuge. You know well that you run no risk of being called +upon to do so. Your life is in no danger. The sacrifice was unnecessary. +I could have dispensed with _your_ assistance; my own arm would have +sufficed to protect Eleanor." + +"Your single arm would not have prevailed against numbers: they would +have killed you likewise." + +"Tush!" said Luke, fiercely. "Not only have you snatched from me my +bride, you have robbed me of my fair estates, of all, save of my barren +title, and that, even _that_, you have tarnished." + +"True, true," sighed Sybil. "I knew not that the lands were hers, else +had I never done it." + +"False, false," cried Luke; "false as the rest. _They_ will be +Ranulph's. _She_ will be Ranulph's. I shall still be an outcast, while +Ranulph will riot in my halls--will press her to his bosom. Cling not to +me. Hence! or I will spurn you from me. I am undone, undone by you, +accursed one." + +"Oh, curse me not! your words cut deep enough." + +"Would they could kill you," cried Luke, with savage bitterness. "You +have placed a bar between me and my prospects, which nothing can now +remove--nothing but--ha!" and his countenance assumed a deadly hue and +fearful expression. "By Heaven, you almost rouse the fell spirit which +it is said dwells within the breast of my devoted race. I feel as if I +could stab thee." + +"No, no!" shrieked Sybil; "for mercy's sake, for your own sake, do not +stab me. It is not too late. I will repair my wrong!" + +"Ever deceiving! you would again delude me. You cannot repair it. One +way alone remains, and that----" + +"I will pursue," responded Sybil, sadly, but firmly. + +"Never!" cried Luke; "you shall not. Ha!" exclaimed he, as he found his +arms suddenly pinioned behind him. "What new treachery is this? By whose +orders am I thus fettered?" + +"By mine," said Alan Rookwood, stepping forward. + +"By yours?" echoed Luke. "And wherefore? Release me." + +"Be patient," replied Alan. "You will hear all anon. In the meantime you +must be content to remain my prisoner. Quit not your hold," added he, +addressing the gipsies, who kept charge of Luke. + +"Their lives shall answer for their obedience," said Barbara. + +Upon a further signal from Alan, Eleanor was torn from her mother's +arms, and a bandage passed so suddenly over Mrs. Mowbray's face, that, +before she could raise a cry of alarm, all possibility of utterance was +effectually prevented. The priest alone was left at liberty. + +Barbara snatched the hand of Eleanor. She dragged her to Sybil. + +"You are Lady Rookwood," whispered she; "but she has your domains. I +give her to you." + +"She is the _only bar_ between thy husband and his rights," whispered +Alan Rookwood, in a tone of horrible irony; "_it is not too late to +repair your wrong_." + +"Away, tempter!" cried Sybil, horror-stricken. "I know you well. Yet," +continued she, in an altered tone, "I will risk all for him. I have done +him wrong. One mode of atonement remains; and, horrible though it be, I +will embrace it. Let me not pause. Give her to me." And she seized upon +the unresisting hand of Eleanor. + +"Do you need my aid?" asked Barbara. + +"No," replied Sybil; "let none approach us. A clapping of hands will let +you know when all is over." And she dragged her passive victim deeper +into the vault. + +"Sybil, Sybil!" cried Luke, struggling with frantic violence to liberate +himself; "hurt her not. I was rash. I was mad. I am calmer now. She +hears me not--she will not turn. God of heaven! she will murder her. It +will be done while I speak. I am the cause of all. Release me, villains! +Would that I had died ere I had seen this day." + +At a signal from the sexton, Luke also was blindfolded. He ceased to +struggle. But his laboring breast told of the strife within. + +"Miscreants!" exclaimed the priest, who had hitherto witnessed the +proceedings in horror. "Why do not these rocks fall in, and crush you +and your iniquities? Save her! oh, save her! Have you no pity for the +innocent?" + +"Such pity have we," replied Alan Rookwood, "as you showed my daughter. +She was as innocent as Eleanor Mowbray, and yet you did not pity _her_." + +"Heaven is my witness," exclaimed the priest, "that I never injured +her." + +"Take not Heaven's name in vain," cried Alan. "Who stood by while it was +doing? Whose firmer hand lent aid to the murderer's trembling efforts? +Whose pressure stifled her thrilling screams, and choked her cries for +mercy? Yours--yours; and now you prate to me of pity--you, the slayer of +the sleeping and the innocent!" + +"'Tis false!" exclaimed the priest, in extremity of terror. + +"False!" echoed Alan. "I had Sir Piers's own confession. He told me all. +You had designs upon Sir Piers, which his wife opposed; you hated her; +you were in the confidence of both--how did you keep that confidence? He +told me _how_, by awakening a spirit of jealousy and pride, that +o'ermastered all his better feelings. False! He told me of your hellish +machinations; your Jesuitical plots; your schemes. He was too weak, too +feeble an instrument to serve you. You left him, but not before _she_ +had left him. False! ha, I have that shall instantly convict you. The +corpse is here, within this cell. Who brought it hither?" + +The priest was silent: he seemed confounded by Alan's violence. + +"I will answer that question," said Barbara. "It was brought hither by +that false priest. His agent, Balthazar, has betrayed him. It was +brought hither to prevent the discovery of Sir Luke Rookwood's +legitimacy. He meant to make his own terms about it. It has come hither +to proclaim his guilt--to be a fearful witness against him." Then, +turning to Checkley, she added, "You have called Heaven to witness your +innocence: you shall attest it by oath upon that body; and should aught +indicate your guilt, I will hang you as I would a dog, and clear off one +long score with justice. Do you shrink from this?" + +"No," replied the priest, in a voice hollow and broken. "Bring me to the +body." + +"Seize each an arm," said Barbara, addressing Zoroaster and the knight +of Malta, "and lead him to the corse." + +"I will administer the oath," said Alan Rookwood, sternly. + +"No, not you," stammered the priest. + +"And wherefore not?" asked Alan. "If you are innocent, you need fear +nothing from her." + +"I fear nothing from the _dead_," replied Checkley; "lead on." + +We will now return to Sybil. She was alone with her victim. They were +near the mouth of the cell which had been Prior Cyprian's flinty +dormitory, and were almost involved in darkness. A broken stream of +light glanced through the pillars. Eleanor had not spoken. She suffered +herself to be dragged thither without resistance, scarcely conscious, it +would seem, of her danger. Sybil gazed upon her for some minutes with +sorrow and surprise. "She comprehends not her perilous situation," +murmured Sybil. "She knows not that she stands upon the brink of the +grave. Oh! would that she could pray. Shall I, her murderess, pray for +her? My prayers would not be heard. And yet, to kill her unshriven will +be a twofold crime. Let me not look on her. My hand trembles. I can +scarce grasp the dagger. Let me think on all he has said. I have wronged +him. I am his bane, his curse! I have robbed him of all: there is but +one remedy--'tis _this_!--Oh, God! she recovers. I cannot do it now." + +It was a fearful moment for Eleanor's revival, when the bright steel +flashed before her eyes. Terror at once restored her. She cast herself +at Sybil's feet. + +"Spare, spare me!" cried she. "Oh! what a dream I have had. And to waken +thus, with the dagger's point at my breast. You will not kill me--you, +gentle maid, who promised to preserve me. Ah, no, I am sure you will +not." + +"Appeal no more to me," said Sybil, fiercely. "Make your peace with +Heaven. Your minutes are numbered." + +"I cannot pray," said Eleanor, "while you are near me." + +"Will you pray if I retire and leave you?" + +"No, no. I dare not--cannot," shrieked Eleanor, in extremity of terror. +"Oh! do not leave me, or let me go." + +"If you stir," said Sybil, "I stab you to the heart." + +"I will not stir. I will kneel here forever. Stab me as I kneel--as I +pray to you. You cannot kill me while I cling to you thus--while I kiss +your hands--while I bedew them with my tears. Those tears will not sully +them like my blood." + +"Maiden," said Sybil, endeavoring to withdraw her hand, "let go your +hold--your sand is run." + +"Mercy!" + +"It is in vain. Close your eyes." + +"No, I will fix them on you thus--you cannot strike then. I will cling +to you--embrace you. Your nature is not cruel--your soul is full of +pity. It melts--those tears--you will be merciful. You cannot +deliberately kill me." + +"I cannot--I cannot!" said Sybil, with a passionate outburst of grief. +"Take your life on one condition." + +"Name it." + +"That you wed Sir Luke Rookwood." + +"Ah!" exclaimed Eleanor, "all rushes back upon me at that name; the +whole of that fearful scene passes in review before me." + +"Do you reject my proposal?" + +"I dare not." + +"I must have your oath. Swear by every hope of eternity that you will +wed none other than him." + +"By every hope, I swear it." + +"Handassah, you will bear this maiden's oath in mind, and witness its +fulfilment." + +"I will," replied the gipsy girl, stepping forward from a recess, in +which she had hitherto remained unnoticed. + +"Enough. I am satisfied. Tarry with me. Stir not--scream not, whatever +you may see or hear. Your life depends upon your firmness. When I am no +more----" + +"No more?" echoed Eleanor, in horror. + +"Be calm," said Sybil. "When I am dead, clap your hands together. They +will come to seek you--they will find me in your stead. Then rush to +him--to Sir Luke Rookwood. He will protect you. Say to him hereafter +that I died for the wrong I did him--that I died, and blessed him." + +"Can you not live, and save me?" sobbed Eleanor. + +"Ask it not. While I live, your life is in danger. When I am gone, none +will seek to harm you. Fare you well! Remember your oath, and you, too, +remember it, Handassah. Remember also--ha! that groan!" + +All started, as a deep groan knelled in their ears. + +"Whence comes that sound?" cried Sybil. "Hist!--a voice?" + +"It is that of the priest," cried Eleanor. "Hark! he groans. They have +murdered him! Kind Heaven, receive his soul!" + +"Pray for me," cried Sybil: "pray fervently; avert your face; down on +your knees--down--down! Farewell, Handassah!" And breaking from them, +she rushed into the darkest recesses of the vault. + +We must now quit this painful scene for another scarcely less painful, +and return to the unfortunate priest. + +Checkley had been brought before the body of Susan Rookwood. Even in the +gloom, the shimmer of the white cereclothes, and the pallid features of +the corpse, were ghastly enough. The torchlight made them terrible. + +"Kneel!" said Alan Rookwood. The priest complied. Alan knelt beside him. + +"Do you know these features?" demanded he. "Regard them well. Fix your +eyes full upon them. Do you know them?" + +"I do." + +"Place your hand upon her breast. Does not the flesh creep and shrink +beneath your touch? Now raise your hand--make the cross of your faith +upon her bosom. By that faith you swear you are innocent." + +"I do," returned the priest; "are you now satisfied?" + +"No," replied Alan. "Let the torch be removed. Your innocence must be +more deeply attested," continued he, as the light was withdrawn. "This +proof will not fail. Entwine your fingers round her throat." + +"Have I not done enough?" + +"Your hesitation proves your guilt," said Alan. + +"That proof is wanting, then?" returned the priest; "my hand is upon her +throat--what more?" + +"As you hope for mercy in your hour of need, swear that you never +conspired against her life, or refused her mercy." + +"I swear it." + +"May the dead convict you of perjury if you have forsworn yourself," +said Alan; "you are free. Take away your hand!" + +"Ha! what is this?" exclaimed the priest. "You have put some jugglery +upon me. I cannot withdraw my hand. It sticks to her throat, as though +'twere glued by blood. Tear me away. I have not force enough to liberate +myself. Why do you grin at me? The corpse grins likewise. It is +jugglery. I am innocent. You would take away my life. Tear me away, I +say: the veins rise; they blacken; they are filling with new blood. I +feel them swell; they coil like living things around my fingers. She is +alive." + +"And you are innocent?" + +"I am--I am. Let not my ravings convict me. For Jesu's sake, release +me." + +"Blaspheme not, but arise. I hold you not." + +"You do," groaned the priest. "Your grasp tightens round my throat; your +hard and skinny fingers are there--I strangle--help!" + +"Your own fears strangle you. My hand is at my side," returned Alan +calmly. + +"Villain, you lie. Your grasp is like a vice. The strength of a thousand +devils is in your hand. Will none lend help? I never pressed so hard. +Your daughter never suffered this torture--never--never. I +choke--choke--oh!" And the priest rolled heavily backwards. + +There was a deep groan; a convulsive rattle in the throat; and all was +still. + +"He is dead--strangled," cried several voices, holding down the torch. +The face of the priest was blackened and contorted; his eyeballs +protruded from their sockets; his tongue was nearly bitten through in +the desperate efforts he had made to release himself from Alan's gripe; +his hair was erect with horror. It was a ghastly sight. + +A murmur arose amongst the gipsies. Barbara deemed it prudent to appease +them. + +"He was guilty," cried she. "He was the murderer of Susan Rookwood." + +"And I, _her father_, have avenged her," said Alan, sternly. + +The dreadful silence that followed this speech was broken by the report +of a pistol. The sound, though startling, was felt almost as a relief. + +"We are beset," cried Alan. "Some of you fly to reconnoitre." + +"To your posts," cried Barbara. + +Several of the crew flocked to the entrance. + +"Unbind the prisoners," shouted Alan. + +Mrs. Mowbray and Luke were accordingly set free. + +Two almost simultaneous reports of a pistol were now heard. + +"'Tis Ranulph Rookwood," said Alan; "that was the preconcerted signal." + +"Ranulph Rookwood," echoed Eleanor, who caught the exclamation: "he +comes to save me." + +"Remember your oath," gasped a dying voice. "He is no longer yours." + +"Alas! alas!" sobbed Eleanor, tremblingly. + +A moment afterwards a faint clapping of hands reached the ears of +Barbara. + +"All is over," muttered she. + +"Ha!" exclaimed Alan Rookwood, with a frightful look. "Is it done?" + +Barbara motioned him towards the further end of the vault. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIII_ + +_MR. COATES_ + + _Grimm._ Look, captain, here comes one of the bloodhounds of justice. + + _Schw._ Down with him. Don't let him utter a word. + + _Moor._ Silence, I will hear him. + + SCHILLER: _The Robbers_. + + +Gladly do we now exchange the dank atmosphere of Saint Cyprian's cell, +and the horrors which have detained us there so long, for balmy air, +genial sunshine, and the boon companionship of Dick Turpin. Upon +regaining the verdant ruins of the ancient priory, all appeared pretty +much as our highwayman had left it. Dick wended towards his mare. Black +Bess uttered an affectionate whinnying sound as he approached her, and +yielded her sleek neck to his caresses. No Bedouin Arab ever loved his +horse more tenderly than Turpin. + +"'Twill be a hard day when thou and I part!" murmured he, affectionately +patting her soft and silky cheeks. Bess thrust her nose into his hand, +biting him playfully, as much as to say, "That day will never arrive." +Turpin, at least, understood the appeal in that sense; he was skilled in +the language of the Houyhnhnms. "I would rather lose my right hand than +_that_ should happen," sighed he; "but there's no saying: the best of +friends must part; and thou and I may be one day separated: thy +destination is the knacker--mine, perhaps, the gibbet.--We are neither +of us cut out for old age, that's certain. Curse me if I can tell how it +is; since I've been in that vault, I've got some queer crotchet into my +head. I can't help likening thee to that poor gipsy wench, Sybil; but +may I be scragged if I'd use thee as her lover has used her. Ha!" +exclaimed he, drawing a pistol with a suddenness that made his +companions, Rust and Wilder, start, "we are watched. See you not how yon +shadow falls from behind the wall?" + +"I do," replied Rust. + +"The varmint shall be speedily unearthed," said Wilder, rushing to the +spot. + +In another instant the shadow manifested itself in a substantial little +personage, booted, spurred, and mud-bespattered. He was brought before +our highwayman, who had, meanwhile, vaulted into his saddle. + +"Mr. Coates!" cried Dick, bursting into a loud laugh at the ridiculous +figure presented to his view, "or the mud deceives me." + +"It does not deceive you, Captain Turpin," replied the attorney; "you +do, indeed, behold that twice unfortunate person." + +"What brings you here?" asked Dick. "Ah! I see, you are come to pay me +my wager." + +"I thought you gave me a _discharge_ for that," rejoined Coates, unable, +even in his distress, to resist the too-tempting quibble. + +"True, but it was _in blank_," replied Turpin readily; "and that don't +hold good in law, you know. You have thrown away a second chance. Play +or pay, all the world over. I shan't _let you off_ so easily this time, +depend upon it. Come, post the pony, or take your measure on that sod. +No more replications or rejoinders, sir, down with the dust. Fake his +clies, pals. Let us see what he has about him." + +"In the twinkling of a bed-post," replied Rust. "We'll turn him inside +out. What's here?" cried he, searching the attorney's pockets. "A brace +of barkers," handing a pair of pistols to Turpin, "a haddock, stuffed +with nothing, I'm thinking; one quid, two coach-wheels, half a bull, +three hogs, and a kick; a d--d dicky concern, captain." + +"Three hogs and a kick," muttered Coates; "the knave says true enough." + +"Is there nothing else?" demanded Dick. + +"Only an old snuffy fogle and a pewter sneezer." + +"No reader?[90] Try his hoxter."[91] + +"Here's a pit-man,[92] captain." + +"Give it me. Ah! this will do," cried Dick, examining the contents of +the pocket-book. "This is a glorious windfall indeed; a bill of exchange +for 500_l._, payable _on demand_, eh, Mr. Coates? Quick! indorse it, +sir. Here's pen and ink. Rascal! if you attempt to tear the bill, I'll +blow your brains out. Steady, sir, sign. Good!" added he, as Coates most +reluctantly indorsed the bill. "Good! good! I'll be off with this bill +to London to-night, before you can stop it. No courier can beat +Bess--ha, ha! Eh! what's this?" continued Dick, as, unfolding another +leaf of the pocket-book, he chanced upon a letter; "My Lady Rookwood's +superscription! Excuse me, Mr. Coates, I must have a peep at her +ladyship's billet-doux. All's safe with me--man of honor. I must detain +your _reader_ a moment longer." + +"You should take charge of yourself, then," replied Coates, sulkily. +"_You_ appear to be my reader." + +"Bravo!" cried Turpin. "You may jest now with impunity, Mr. Coates. You +have paid dear enough for your jokes; and when should a man be allowed +to be pleasant, if not at his own expense?--ha, ha! What's this?" +exclaimed he, opening the letter. "A ring, as I'm awake! and from her +ladyship's own fair finger, I'll be sworn, for it bears her cipher, +ineffaceably impressed as your image upon her heart--eh, Coates? Egad! +you are a lucky dog, after all, to receive _such_ a favor from _such_ a +lady--ha, ha! Meantime, I'll take care of it for you," continued Dick, +slipping the ring on his little finger. + +Turpin, we have before remarked, had a turn for mimicry; and it was with +an irresistible feeling of deferential awe creeping over him that Coates +heard the contents of Lady Rookwood's epistle delivered with an +enunciation as peremptory and imperious as that of her ladyship's self. +The letter was hastily indited, in a clear, firm hand, and partook of +its writer's decision of character. Dick found no difficulty in +deciphering it. Thus ran the missive: + + "Assured of your devotion and secrecy, I commit my own honor, and + that of my son, to your charge. Time will not permit me to see you, + or I would not write. But I place myself entirely in your hands. You + will not dare to betray my confidence. To the point:--A Major + Mowbray has just arrived here with intelligence that the body of + Susan Bradley--you will know to whom I allude--has been removed from + our family vault by a Romish priest and his assistants. How it came + there, or why it has been removed, I know not; it is not my present + purpose to inquire. Suffice it, that it now lies in a vault beneath + the ruins of Davenham Priory. My son, Sir Ranulph, who has lent a + credulous ear to the artful tales of the impostor who calls this + woman mother, is at present engaged in arming certain of the + household, and of the tenantry, to seize upon and bring away this + body, as resistance is apprehended from a horde of gipsies who + infest the ruins. Now, mark me. THAT BODY MUST NOT BE FOUND! Be it + your business to prevent its discovery. Take the fleetest horse you + can procure; spare neither whip nor spur. Haste to the priory; + procure by any means, and at any expense, the assistance of the + gipsies. Find out the body; conceal it, destroy it--do what you + will, so my son find it not. Fear not his resentment; I will bear + you harmless of the consequences with him. You will act upon my + responsibility. I pledge my honor for your safety. Use all despatch, + and calculate upon due requital from + + "MAUD ROOKWOOD. + + "Haste, and God speed you!" + +"God speed you!" echoed Dick, in his own voice, contemptuously. "The +devil drive you! would have been a fitter postscript. And it was upon +this precious errand you came, Mr. Coates?" + +"Precisely," replied the attorney; "but I find the premises preoccupied. +Fast as I have ridden, you are here before me." + +"And what do you now propose to do?" asked Turpin. + +"Bargain with you for the body," replied Coates, in an insinuating tone. + +"With _me_!" said Dick; "do you take me for a resurrection cove; for a +dealer in dead stock, eh! sirrah?" + +"I take you for one sufficiently _alive_, in a general way, to his own +interests," returned Coates. "These gentlemen may not, perhaps, be quite +so scrupulous, when they hear my proposals." + +"Be silent, sir," interrupted Turpin. "Hist! I hear the tramp of horses' +hoofs without. Hark! that shout." + +"Make your own terms before they come," said Coates. "Leave all to me. +I'll put 'em on a wrong scent." + +"To the devil with your terms," cried Turpin; "the signal!" And he +pulled the trigger of one of Coates's pistols, the shot of which rang in +the ears of the astounded attorney as it whizzed past him. "Drag him +into the mouth of the vault," thundered Turpin: "he will be a capital +cover in case of attack. Look to your sticks, and be on the +alert;--away!" + +Vainly did the unfortunate attorney kick and struggle, swear and scream; +his hat was pushed over his eyes; his bob-wig thrust into his mouth; and +his legs tripped from under him. Thus blind, dumb, and half-suffocated, +he was hurried into the entrance of the cell. + +Dick, meanwhile, dashed to the arched outlet of the ruin. He there drew +in the rein, and Black Bess stood motionless as a statue. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIV_ + +_DICK TURPIN_ + + Many a fine fellow with a genius extensive enough to have effected + universal reformation has been doomed to perish by the halter. But + does not such a man's renown extend through centuries and tens of + centuries, while many a prince would be overlooked in history were + it not the historian's interest to increase the number of his pages? + Nay, when the traveller sees a gibbet, does he not exclaim, "That + fellow was no fool!" and lament the hardship of the + times?--SCHILLER: _The Robbers_. + + +Turpin's quick eye ranged over the spreading sward in front of the +ancient priory, and his brow became contracted. The feeling, however, +was transient. The next instant saw him the same easy, reckless being he +had been before. There was a little more paleness in his cheek than +usual; but his look was keener, and his knees involuntarily clasped the +saddle more firmly. No other symptom of anxiety was perceptible. It +would be no impeachment to Dick's valor were it necessary to admit that +a slight tremor crossed him as he scanned the formidable array of his +opponents. The admission is needless. Dick himself would have been the +last man to own it; nor shall we do the memory of our undaunted +highwayman any such injustice. Turpin was intrepid to a fault. He was +rash; apt to run into risks for the mere pleasure of getting out of +them: danger was his delight, and the degree of excitement was always in +proportion to the peril incurred. After the first glance, he became, to +use his own expressive phrase, "as cool as a cucumber;" and continued, +as long as they permitted him, like a skilful commander, calmly to +calculate the numerical strength of his adversaries, and to arrange his +own plan of resistance. + +This troop of horsemen, for such it was, might probably amount in the +aggregate to twenty men, and presented an appearance like that of a +strong muster at a rustic fox-chase, due allowance being made for the +various weapons of offence; to-wit: naked sabers, firelocks, and a world +of huge horse-pistols, which the present _field_ carried along with +them. This resemblance was heightened by the presence of an old huntsman +and a gamekeeper or two, in scarlet and green jackets, and a few yelping +hounds that had followed after them. The majority of the crew consisted +of sturdy yeomen; some of whom, mounted upon wild, unbroken colts, had +pretty lives of it to maintain their seats, and curvetted about in "most +admired disorder;" others were seated upon more docile, but quite as +provoking specimens of the cart-horse breed, whose sluggish sides, +reckless alike of hobnailed heel or ash sapling, refused to obey their +riders' intimations to move; while others again, brought stiff, +wrong-headed ponies to the charge--obstinate, impracticable little +brutes, who seemed to prefer revolving on their own axis, and describing +absurd rotatory motions, to proceeding in the direct and proper course +pointed out to them. Dick could scarcely forbear laughing at these +ridiculous man[oe]uvres; but his attention was chiefly attracted towards +three individuals, who were evidently the leaders of this warlike +expedition. In the thin, tall figure of the first of these he recognized +Ranulph Rookwood. With the features and person of the second of the +group he was not entirely unacquainted, and fancied--nor incorrectly +fancied--that his military bearing, or, as he would have expressed it, +"the soldier-like cut of his jib," could belong to no other than Major +Mowbray, whom he had once eased of a purse on Finchley Common. In the +round, rosy countenance and robustious person of the last of the trio he +discovered his ancient ally, Titus Tyrconnel. + +"Ah, Titus, my jewel, are you there?" exclaimed Dick, as he +distinguished the Irishman. "Come, I have _one_ friend among them whom I +may welcome. So, they see me now. Off they come, pell-mell. Back, Bess, +back!--slowly, wench, slowly--there--stand!" And Bess again remained +motionless. + +The report of Turpin's pistol reached the ears of the troop; and as all +were upon the alert, he had scarcely presented himself at the gateway, +when a loud shout was raised, and the whole cavalcade galloped towards +him, creating, as may be imagined, the wildest disorder; each horseman +yelling, as he neared the arch, and got involved in the press occasioned +by the unexpected concentration of forces at that point, while oaths and +blows, kicks and cuffs, were reciprocated with such hearty good-will, +that, had Turpin ever read Ariosto or Cervantes, or heard of the discord +of King Agramante's camp, this _mle_ must have struck him as its +realization. As it was, entertaining little apprehension of the result, +he shouted encouragement to them. Scarcely, however, had the foremost +horseman disentangled himself from the crowd, and, struggling to the +door, was in the act of levelling his pistol at Turpin's head, when a +well-directed ball pierced the brain of his charger, and horse and man +rolled to the ground. Vowing vengeance, a second succeeded, and was in +like manner compelled to bite the dust. + +"That will let Old Peter know that Ranulph Rookwood is at hand," +exclaimed Dick. "I shan't throw away another shot." + +The scene at the archway was now one of complete confusion. Terrified by +the shots, some of the boors would have drawn back, while others, in +mid career, advanced, and propelled them forwards. It was like the +meeting of two tides. Here and there, regardless of the bit, and scared +by the firing, a wild colt broke all bounds, and, hurling his rider in +the air, darted off into the green; or, in another case, rushed forward, +and encountering the prostrate cattle cumbering the entrance to the +priory hall, stumbled, and precipitated his master neck-over-heels at +the very feet of his enemy. During all this tumult, a few shots were +fired at the highwayman, which, without doing him a jot of mischief, +tended materially to increase their own confusion. + +The voice of Turpin was now heard above the din and turmoil to sound a +parley; and as he appeared disposed to offer no opposition, some of his +antagonists ventured to raise themselves from the ground, and to +approach him. + +"I demand to be led to Sir Ranulph Rookwood," said Turpin. + +"He is here," said Ranulph, riding up. "Villain, you are my prisoner." + +"As you list, Sir Ranulph," returned Dick, coolly; "but let me have a +word in private with you ere you do aught you may repent hereafter." + +"No words, sir--deliver up your arms, or----" + +"My pistols are at your service," replied Dick. "I have just discharged +them." + +"You may have others. We must search you." + +"Hold!" cried Dick; "if you will not listen to me, read that paper." And +he handed Ranulph his mother's letter to Mr. Coates. It was without the +superscription, which he had thrown aside. + +"My mother's hand!" exclaimed Ranulph, reddening with anger, as he +hastily perused its contents. "And she sent this to you? You lie, +villain--'tis a forgery." + +"Let this speak for me," returned Dick, holding out the finger upon +which Lady Rookwood's ring was placed. "Know you that cipher?" + +"You have stolen it," retorted Ranulph. "My mother," added he, in a +deep, stern whisper, articulated only for Turpin's hearing, "would never +have entrusted her honor to a highwayman's keeping." + +"She has entrusted more--her life," replied Dick, in a careless tone. +"She would have bribed me to do murder." + +"Murder!" echoed Ranulph, aghast. + +"Ay, to murder your brother," returned Dick; "but let that pass. You +have read that note. I have acted solely upon your mother's +responsibility. Lady Rookwood's _honor_ is pledged for my safety. Of +course her son will set me free." + +"Never!" + +"Well, as you please. Your mother is in my power. Betray me, and you +betray her." + +"No more!" returned Ranulph, sternly. "Go your ways. You are free." + +"Pledge me your word of honor I am safe." Ranulph had scarcely given his +pledge, when Major Mowbray rode furiously up. A deep flush of anger +burnt upon his cheeks; his sword was drawn in his hand. He glanced at +Turpin, as if he would have felled him from his saddle. + +"This is the ruffian," cried the major, fiercely, "by whom I was +attacked some months ago, and for whose apprehension the reward of three +hundred pounds is offered by his majesty's proclamation, with a free +pardon to his accomplices. This is Richard Turpin. He has just added +another crime to his many offences. He has robbed my mother and sister. +The postboy knew him the moment he came up. Where are they, villain? +Whither are they gone?--answer!" + +"I know not," replied Turpin, calmly. "Did not the lad tell you they +were rescued?" + +"Rescued!--by whom?" asked Ranulph, with great emotion. + +"By one who calls himself Sir Luke Rookwood," answered Turpin, with a +meaning smile. + +"By him!" ejaculated Ranulph. "Where are they now?" + +"I have already answered that question," said Dick. "I repeat, I know +not." + +"You are my prisoner," cried the major, seizing Turpin's bridle. + +"I have Sir Ranulph's word for my safety," rejoined Turpin. "Let go my +rein." + +"How is this?" asked Major Mowbray, incredulously. + +"Ask me not. Release him," replied Ranulph. + +"Ranulph," said the major, "you ask an impossibility. My honor--my +duty--is implicated in this man's capture." + +"The honor of all of us is involved in his deliverance," returned +Ranulph, in a whisper. "Let him go. I will explain all hereafter. Let us +search for them--for Eleanor. Surely, after this, you will help us to +find them," added he, addressing Turpin. + +"I wish, with all my soul, I could do so," replied the highwayman. + +"I see'd the ladies cross the brook, and enter these old ruins," +interposed the postboy, who had now joined the party. "I see'd 'em from +where I stood on the hill-side; and as I kept a pretty sharp look-out, +and have a tolerably bright eye of my own, I don't think as how they +ever comed out again." + +"Some one is hidden within yon fissure in the wall," exclaimed Ranulph; +"I see a figure move." + +And he flung himself from his horse, rushing towards the mouth of the +cell. Imitating his example, Major Mowbray followed his friend, sword in +hand. + +"The game begins now in right earnest," said Dick to himself; "the old +fox will be soon unearthed. I must look to my snappers." And he thrust +his hand quietly into his pocket in search of a pistol. + +Just as Ranulph and the major reached the recess they were startled by +the sudden apparition of the ill-fated attorney. + +"Mr. Coates!" exclaimed Ranulph, in surprise. "What do you here, sir?" + +"I--I--that is--Sir Ranulph--you must excuse me, sir--particular +business--can't say," returned the trembling attorney; for at this +instant his eye caught that of Turpin, and the ominous reflexion of a +polished-steel barrel, held carelessly towards him. He was aware, also, +that on the other hand he was, in like manner, the mark of Rust and +Wilder; those polite gentlemen having threatened him with a brace of +slugs in his brain if he dared to betray their hiding-place. "It is +necessary that I should be _guarded_ in my answers," murmured he. + +"Is there any one within that place besides yourself?" said the major, +making a movement thither. + +"No, sir, nobody at all," answered Coates, hastily, fancying at the same +time that he heard the click of the pistol that was to be his +death-warrant. + +"How came you here, sir?" demanded Ranulph. + +"Do you mean in this identical spot?" replied Coates, evasively. + +"You can have no difficulty in answering that question," said the major, +sternly. + +"Pardon me, sir. I find considerable difficulty in answering any +question, situated as I am." + +"Have you seen Miss Mowbray?" asked Ranulph, eagerly. + +"Or my mother?" said the major, in the same breath. + +"Neither," replied Coates, rather relieved by these questions. + +"I suspect you are deceiving us, sir," said the major. "Your manner is +confused. I am convinced you know more of this matter than you choose to +explain; and if you do not satisfy me at once, fully and explicitly, I +vow to Heaven----" and the major's sword described a glittering circle +round his head. + +"Are you privy to their concealment?" asked Ranulph. "Have you seen +aught of them, or of Luke Bradley?" + +"Speak, or this moment is your last," said the major. + +"If it _is_ my last, I _cannot_ speak," returned Coates. "I can make +neither head nor tail of your questions, gentlemen." + +"And you positively assure me you have not seen Mrs. Mowbray and her +daughter?" said Ranulph. + +Turpin here winked at Coates. The attorney understood him. + +"I don't positively assert that," faltered he. + +"How!--you _have_ seen them?" shouted Ranulph. + +"Where are they?--in safety--speak!" added the major. + +Another expressive gesture from the highwayman communicated to the +attorney the nature of his reply. + +"Without, sir--without--yonder," he replied. "I will show you myself. +Follow, gentlemen, follow." And away scampered Coates, without once +venturing to look behind him. + +In an instant the ruined hall was deserted, and Turpin alone left +behind. In the excitement of the moment his presence had been forgotten. +In an instant afterwards the _arena_ was again occupied by a company +equally numerous. Rust and Wilder issued from their hiding-places, +followed by a throng of the gipsy crew. + +"Where is Sir Luke Rookwood?" asked Turpin. + +"He remains below," was the answer returned. + +"And Peter Bradley?" + +"Stays there likewise." + +"No matter. Now make ready, pals. Give 'em one shout--Hurrah!" + +"Hurrah!" replied the crowd, at the top of their voices. + +Ranulph Rookwood and his companions heard this shout. Mr. Coates had +already explained the stratagem practised upon them by the wily +highwayman, as well as the perilous situation in which he himself had +been placed; and they were in the act of returning to make good his +capture, when the loud shouts of the crew arrested them. From the +clamor, it was evident that considerable reinforcement must have arrived +from some unlooked-for quarter; and, although burning to be avenged +upon the audacious highwayman, the major felt it would be a task of +difficulty, and that extreme caution could alone ensure success. With +difficulty restraining the impatience of Ranulph, who could scarcely +brook these few minutes of needful delay, Major Mowbray gave particular +instructions to each of the men in detail, and caused several of them to +dismount. By this arrangement Mr. Coates found himself accommodated with +a steed and a pair of pistols, with which latter he vowed to wreak his +vengeance upon some of his recent tormentors. After a short space of +time occupied in this manner, the troop slowly advanced towards the +postern, in much better order than upon the previous occasion; but the +stoutest of them quailed as they caught sight of the numerous gipsy-gang +drawn out in battle array within the abbey walls. Each party scanned the +other's movements in silence and wonder, anxiously awaiting, yet in a +measure dreading, their leader's signal to begin. That signal was not +long delayed. A shot from the ranks of Rookwood did instant and bitter +execution. Rob Rust was stretched lifeless upon the ground. Nothing more +was needed. The action now became general. Fire arms were discharged on +both sides, without much damage to either party. But a rush being made +by a detachment of horse, headed by Major Mowbray, the conflict soon +became more serious. The gipsies, after the first fire, threw aside +their pistols, and fought with long knives, with which they inflicted +desperate gashes, both on men and horses. Major Mowbray was slightly +wounded in the thigh, and his steed receiving the blow intended for +himself, stumbled and threw his rider. Luckily for the major, Ranulph +Rookwood was at hand, and with the butt-end of a heavy-handled pistol +felled the ruffian to the earth, just as he was upon the point of +repeating the thrust. + +Turpin, meanwhile, had taken comparatively a small share in the +conflict. He seemed to content himself with acting upon the defensive, +and except in the case of Titus Tyrconnel, whom, espying amidst the +crowd, he had considerably alarmed by sending a bullet through his wig, +he did not fire a single shot. He also succeeded in unhorsing Coates, by +hurling, with great dexterity, the empty pistol at his head. Though +apparently unconcerned in the skirmish, he did not flinch from it, but +kept his ground unyieldingly. "A charmed life" he seemed to bear; for +amid the shower of bullets, many of which were especially aimed at +himself, he came off unhurt. + +"He that's born to be hanged will never be drowned, that's certain," +said Titus. "It's no use trying to bring him down. But, by Jasus! he's +spoiled my best hat and wig, anyhow. There's a hole in my beaver as big +as a crown piece." + +"Your own crown's safe, and that's some satisfaction," said Coates; +"whereas mine has a bump on it as large as a swan's egg. Ah! if we could +only get behind him." + +The strife continued to rage without intermission; and though there were +now several ghastly evidences of its fury, in the shape of wounded men +and slaughtered or disabled horses, whose gaping wounds flooded the turf +with gore, it was still difficult to see upon which side victory would +eventually declare herself. The gipsies, though by far the greater +sufferers of the two, firmly maintained their ground. Drenched in the +blood of the horses they had wounded, and brandishing their long knives, +they presented a formidable and terrific appearance, the effect of which +was not at all diminished by their wild yells and savage gesticulations. +On the other hand, headed by Major Mowbray and Ranulph, the troop of +yeomen pressed on undauntedly; and where the sturdy farmers could get a +firm gripe of their lithe antagonists, or deliver a blow with their +ox-like fists, they seldom failed to make good the advantages which +superior weight and strength gave them. It will thus be seen that as yet +they were pretty well matched. Numbers were in favor of the gipsies, but +courage was equally distributed, and, perhaps, what is emphatically +called "bottom," was in favor of the rustics. Be this as it may, from +what had already occurred, there was every prospect of a very serious +termination to the fray. + +From time to time Turpin glanced to the entrance of the cell, in the +expectation of seeing Sir Luke Rookwood make his appearance; and, as he +was constantly disappointed in his expectation, he could not conceal his +chagrin. At length he resolved to despatch a messenger to him, and one +of the crew accordingly departed upon this errand. He returned presently +with a look of blank dismay. + +In our hasty narrative of the fight we have not paused to particularize, +neither have we enumerated, the list of the combatants. Amongst them, +however, were Jerry Juniper, the knight of Malta, and Zoroaster. +Excalibur, as may be conceived, had not been idle; but that trenchant +blade had been shivered by Ranulph Rookwood in the early stage of the +business, and the knight left weaponless. Zoroaster, who was not merely +a worshipper of fire, but a thorough milling-cove, had engaged to some +purpose in a pugilistic encounter with the rustics; and, having fought +several rounds, now "bore his blushing honors thick upon him." Jerry, +like Turpin, had remained tolerably quiescent. "The proper moment," he +said, "had not arrived." A fatality seemed to attend Turpin's immediate +companions. Rust was the first who fell; Wilder also was now among the +slain. Things were precisely in this condition when the messenger +returned. A marked change was instantly perceptible in Turpin's manner. +He no longer looked on with indifference. He seemed angry and +distrustful. He gnawed his lip, ever a sign with him of vexation. +Addressing a few words to those about him, he then spoke more loudly to +the rest of the crew. Being in the jargon of the tawny tribe, his words +were not intelligible to the opposite party; but their import was soon +made known by the almost instant and total relinquishment of the field +by the gipsies. They took to their heels at once, to a man, leaving only +a few desperately wounded behind them; and, flying along the intricate +ruins of the priory, baffled all pursuit, wherever it was attempted. +Jerry Juniper was the last in the retreat; but, upon receiving a hint +from Dick, he vaulted like a roe over the heads of his adversaries, and +made good his escape. Turpin alone remained. He stood like a lion at +bay, quietly regarding the huntsmen hurtling around him. Ranulph +Rookwood rode up and bade him surrender. + +"Detain me not," cried he, in a voice of thunder. "If you would save her +who is dear to you, descend into that vault. Off, I say." + +And Turpin shook away, with ease, the grasp that Ranulph had laid upon +him. + +"Villain! you do not escape me this time," said Major Mowbray, +interposing himself between Turpin and the outlet. + +"Major Mowbray, I would not have your blood upon my head," said Dick. +"Let me pass," and he levelled a pistol. + +"Fire, if you dare!" said the major, raising his sword. "You pass not. I +will die rather than allow you to escape. Barricade the door. Strike him +down if he attempts to pass. Richard Turpin, I arrest you in the king's +name. You hear, my lads, in his majesty's name. I command you to assist +me in this highwayman's capture. Two hundred pounds for his head." + +"Two hundred devils!" exclaimed Dick, with a laugh of disdain. "Go, seek +your mother and sister within yon vault, Major Mowbray; you will find +employment enough there." + +Saying which, he suddenly forced Bess to back a few yards; then, +striking his heels sharply into her sides, ere his purpose could be +divined by the spectators, charged, and cleared the lower part of the +mouldering priory walls. This feat was apparently accomplished with no +great effort by his admirable and unequalled mare. + +"By the powers!" cried Titus, "and he's given us the slip after all. And +just when we thought to make sure of him, too. Why, Mr. Coates, that +wall must be higher than a five-barred gate, or any stone wall in my own +country. It's just the most extraordinary lepp I ever set eyes on!" + +"The devil's in the fellow, certainly, or in his mare," returned Coates; +"but if he escapes me, I'll forgive him. I know whither he's bound. He's +off to London with my bill of exchange. I'll be up with him. I'll track +him like a bloodhound, slowly and surely, as my father, the thief-taker, +used to follow up a scent. Recollect the hare and the tortoise. The race +is not always to the swift. What say you? 'Tis a match for five hundred +pounds; nay, for five thousand: for there is a certain marriage +certificate in the way--a glorious golden venture! You shall go halves, +if we win. We'll have him, dead or alive. What say you for London, Mr. +Tyrconnel? Shall we start at once?" + +"With all my sowl," replied Titus. "I'm with you." And away this _par +nobile_ scoured. + +Ranulph, meantime, plunged into the vault. The floor was slippery, and +he had nigh stumbled. Loud and deep lamentations, and a wailing sound, +like that of a lament for the dead, resounded in his ears. A light at +the further extremity of the vault attracted his attention. He was +filled with terrible forebodings; but the worst reality was not so +terrible as suspense. He rushed towards the light. He passed the massive +pillars, and there, by the ruddy torch flame, discovered two female +figures. One was an old woman, fantastically attired, wringing her +hands, and moaning, or gibbering wild strains in broken, discordant, yet +pathetic tones. The other was Mrs. Mowbray. Both were images of despair. +Before them lay some motionless object. He noticed not that old woman; +he scarcely saw Mrs. Mowbray; he beheld only that object of horror. It +was the lifeless body of a female. The light fell imperfectly upon the +face; he could not discern the features, but the veil in which it was +swathed: that veil was Eleanor's! He asked no more. + +With a wild cry he rushed forward. "Eleanor, my beloved!" shrieked he. + +Mrs. Mowbray started at his voice, but appeared stunned and helpless. + +"She is dead," said Ranulph, stooping towards the body. "Dead--dead!" + +"Ay," echoed the old woman, in accents of equal anguish--"dead--dead!" + +"But this is _not_ Eleanor," exclaimed he, as he viewed the features +more closely. "This face, though beautiful, is not hers. This +dishevelled hair is black. The long lashes that shade her cheek are of +the same hue. She is scarce dead. The hand I clasp is yet warm--the +fingers are pliant." + +"Yet she is dead," said the old woman, in a broken voice, "she is +slain." + +"Who hath slain her?" asked Ranulph. + +"I--I--her mother, slew her." + +"You!" exclaimed Ranulph, horror-stricken. "And where is Eleanor?" asked +he. "Was she not here?" + +"Better she were here now, even though she were as that poor maid," +groaned Mrs. Mowbray, "than where she is." + +"Where is she, then?" asked Ranulph, with frantic eagerness. + +"Fled. Whither I know not." + +"With whom?" + +"With Sir Luke Rookwood--with Alan Rookwood. They have borne her hence. +Ranulph, you are too late." + +"Gone!" cried Ranulph, fiercely springing to his feet. "How escaped +they? There appears to be but one entrance to this vault. I will search +each nook and cranny." + +"'Tis vain," replied Mrs. Mowbray. "There is another outlet through yon +cell. By that passage they escaped." + +"Too true, too true," shouted Ranulph, who flew to examine the cell. +"And wherefore followed you not?" + +"The stone rolled to its mouth, and resisted my efforts. I could not +follow." + +"Torture and death! She is lost to me for ever!" cried Ranulph, +bitterly. + +"No!" exclaimed Barbara, clutching his arm. "Place your trust in me, and +I will find her for you." + +"You!" ejaculated Ranulph. + +"Even I," replied Barbara. "Your wrongs shall be righted--my Sybil be +avenged." + + + + +_BOOK IV_ + + +_THE RIDE TO YORK_ + + Then one halloo, boys! one loud cheering halloo! + To the swiftest of coursers, the gallant, the true, + For the sportsman unborn shall the memory bless + Of the horse of the highwayman, bonny Black Bess. + + RICHARD TURPIN. + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_THE RENDEZVOUS AT KILBURN_ + + _Hind._ Drink deep, my brave boys, of the bastinado; + Of stramazons, tinctures, and sli passatas; + Of the carricado, and rare embrocado; + Of blades, and rapier-hilts of surest guard; + Of the Vincentio and Burgundian ward. + Have we not bravely tossed this bombast foil-button? + Win gold and wear gold, boys, 'tis we that merit it. + + _Prince of Prigs' Revels._ + + _An excellent Comedy, replete with various conceits and Tarltonian + mirth._ + + +The present straggling suburb at the north-west of the metropolis, known +as Kilburn, had scarcely been called into existence a century ago, and +an ancient hostel, with a few detached farmhouses, were the sole +habitations to be found in the present populous vicinage. The place of +refreshment for the ruralizing cockney of 1737 was a substantial-looking +tenement of the good old stamp, with great bay windows, and a balcony in +front, bearing as its ensign the jovial visage of the lusty knight, Jack +Falstaff. Shaded by a spreading elm, a circular bench embraced the aged +trunk of the tree, sufficiently tempting, no doubt, to incline the +wanderer on those dusty ways to "rest and be thankful," and to cry +_encore_ to a frothing tankard of the best ale to be obtained within the +chimes of Bow bells. + +Upon a table, green as the privet and holly that formed the walls of the +bower in which it was placed, stood a great china bowl, one of those +leviathan memorials of bygone wassailry which we may sometimes +espy--reversed in token of its desuetude--perched on the top of an old +japanned closet, but seldom, if ever, encountered in its proper position +at the genial board. All the appliances of festivity were at hand. +Pipes and rummers strewed the board. Perfume, subtle, yet mellow, as of +pine and lime, exhaled from out the bowl, and, mingling with the scent +of a neighboring bed of mignonette and the subdued odor of the Indian +weed, formed altogether as delectable an atmosphere of sweets as one +could wish to inhale on a melting August afternoon. So, at least, +thought the inmates of the arbor; nor did they by any means confine +themselves to the gratification of a single sense. The ambrosial +contents of the china bowl proved as delicious to the taste as its +bouquet was grateful to the smell; while the eyesight was soothed by +reposing on the smooth sward of a bowling-green spread out immediately +before it, or in dwelling upon gently undulating meads, terminating, at +about a mile's distance, in the woody, spire-crowned heights of +Hampstead. + +At the left of the table was seated, or rather lounged, a slender, +elegant-looking young man, with dark, languid eyes, sallow complexion, +and features wearing that peculiarly pensive expression often +communicated by dissipation; an expression which, we regret to say, is +sometimes found more pleasing than it ought to be in the eyes of the +gentle sex. Habited in a light summer riding-dress, fashioned according +to the taste of the time, of plain and unpretending material, and rather +under than overdressed, he had, perhaps, on that very account, perfectly +the air of a gentleman. There was, altogether, an absence of pretension +about him, which, combined with great apparent self-possession, +contrasted very forcibly with the vulgar assurance of his showy +companions. The figure of the youth was slight, even to fragility, +giving little outward manifestation of the vigor of frame he in reality +possessed. This spark was a no less distinguished personage than Tom +King, a noted high-tobygloak of his time, who obtained, from his +appearance and address, the _sobriquet_ of the "Gentleman Highwayman." + +Tom was indeed a pleasant fellow in his day. His career was brief, but +brilliant: your meteors are ever momentary. He was a younger son of a +good family; had good blood in his veins, though not a groat in his +pockets. According to the old song-- + + When he arrived at man's estate, + It was _all the estate_ he had; + +and all the estate he was ever likely to have. Nevertheless, if he had +no income, he contrived, as he said, to live as if he had the mines of +Peru at his control--a miracle not solely confined to himself. For a +moneyless man, he had rather expensive habits. He kept his three nags; +and, if fame does not belie him, a like number of mistresses; nay, if we +are to place any faith in certain scandalous chronicles to which we have +had access, he was for some time the favored lover of a celebrated +actress, who, for the time, supplied him with the means of keeping up +his showy establishment. But things could not long hold thus. Tom was a +model of infidelity, and that was the only failing his mistress could +not overlook. She dismissed him at a moment's notice. Unluckily, too, he +had other propensities which contributed to involve him. He had a taste +for the turf--a taste for play--was well known in the hundreds of Drury, +and cut no mean figure at Howell's, and the faro tables there-anent. He +was the glory of the Smyrna, D'Osyndar's, and other chocolate houses of +the day; and it was at this time he fell into the hands of certain +dexterous sharpers, by whom he was at first plucked and subsequently +patronized. Under their tuition he improved wonderfully. He turned his +wit and talent to some account. He began to open his eyes. His nine +days' blindness was over. The dog saw. But, in spite of his quickness, +he was at length discovered, and ejected from Howell's in a manner that +left him no alternative. He must either have called out his adversary, +or have gone out himself. He preferred the latter, and took to the road; +and in his new line he was eminently successful. Fortunately, he had no +scruples to get over. Tom had what Sir Walter Scott happily denominates +"an indistinct notion of _meum_ and _tuum_," and became confirmed in the +opinion that everything he could lay hands upon constituted lawful +spoil. And then, even those he robbed, admitted that he was the most +gentlemanlike highwayman they had ever the fortune to meet with, and +trusted they might always be so lucky. So popular did he become upon the +road, that it was accounted a distinction to be stopped by him; he made +a point of robbing none but gentlemen, and--Tom's shade would quarrel +with us were we to omit them--ladies. His acquaintance with Turpin was +singular, and originated in a rencontre. Struck with his appearance, +Dick presented a pistol, and bade King deliver. The latter burst into a +laugh, and an explanation immediately ensued. Thenceforward they became +sworn brothers--the Pylades and Orestes of the road; and though seldom +seen together in public, had many a merry moonlight ride in company. + +Tom still maintained three mistresses, his valet, his groom--tiger, we +should have called him,--"and many a change of clothes besides," says +his biographer, "with which he appeared more like a lord than a +highwayman." And what more, we should like to know, would a lord wish to +have? Few younger sons, we believe, can boast so much; and it is chiefly +on their account, with some remote view to the benefit of the unemployed +youth of all professions, that we have enlarged so much upon Tom King's +history. The road, we must beg to repeat, is still open; the chances are +greater than they ever were; we fully believe it is _their_ only road to +preferment, and we are sadly in want of highwaymen! + +Fancy Tom lounging at D'Osyndar's, carelessly tapping his boots on the +steps; there he stands! Is he not a devilish good-looking, gentlemanlike +sort of fellow? You could never have taken him for a highwayman but for +our information. A waiter appears--supper is ordered at twelve--a +broiled chicken and a bottle of Burgundy--his groom brings his nags to +the door--he mounts. It is his custom to ride out on an evening--he is +less liable to interruption.[93] At Marylebone Fields--now the Regent's +Park,--his groom leaves him. He has a mistress in the neighborhood. He +is absent for a couple of hours, and returns gay or dispirited, as his +luck may have turned out. At twelve he is at supper, and has the night +before him. How very easy all this seems. Can it be possible we have no +Tom Kings? + +To return to Tom as he was in the arbor. Judging from his manner, he +appeared to be almost insensible to the presence of his companions, and +to be scarcely a partaker in their revelry. His back was towards his +immediate neighbor; his glass sparkled untouched at his elbow; and one +hand, beautifully white and small, a mark of his birth and +breeding--_crede_ Byron--rested upon the edge of the table, while his +thin, delicate digits, palpably demonstrative of his faculty of +adaptation--_crede_ James Hardy Vaux--were employed with a silver +toothpick. In other respects, he seemed to be lost in reverie, and was, +in all probability, meditating new exploits. + +Next to King sat our old friend Jerry Juniper; not, however, the Jerry +of the gipsies, but a much more showy-looking personage. Jerry was no +longer a gentleman of "three _outs_"--the difficulty would now have been +to say what he was "without." Snakelike he had cast his slough, and +rejoiced in new and brilliant investiture. His were "speaking garments, +speaking pockets too." His linen was of the finest, his hose of the +smartest. Gay rings glittered on his fingers; a crystal snuff-box +underwent graceful manipulation; a handsome gold repeater was sometimes +drawn from its location with a monstrous bunch of onions--_anglic_, +seals--depending from its massive chain. Lace adorned his wrists, and +shoes--of which they had been long unconscious,--with buckles nearly as +large as themselves, confined his feet. A rich-powdered peruke and +silver-hilted sword completed the gear of the transmogrified Jerry, or, +as he now chose to be designated, Count Albert Conyers. The fact was, +that Jerry, after the _fracas_, apprehensive that the country would be +too hot for him, had, in company with Zoroaster, quitted the ranks of +the Canting Crew, and made the best of his way to town. A lucky _spice_ +on the road set them up; and having some acquaintance with Tom King, the +party, on their arrival, sought him out at his customary haunt, +D'Osyndar's, and enlisted under his banners. + +Tom received them with open arms, gave them unlimited use of his +wardrobe, and only required a little trifling assistance in return. He +had a grand scheme _in petto_, in the execution of which they could +mainly assist him. Jerry was a _Greek_ by nature, and could _land_ a +flat as well as the best of them. Zoroaster was just the man to _lose_ a +fight; or, in the language of the _Fancy_, to _play a cross_. No two +_legs_ could serve Tom's purposes better. He welcomed them with +fraternal affection. + +We will now proceed to reconnoitre Jerry's opposite neighbor, who was, +however, no other than that Upright Man, + + The Magus Zoroaster, that great name. + +Changed as was Juniper, the Magus was yet more whimsically +metamorphosed. Some traces of Jerry still remained, but not a vestige +was left of the original Dimber Damber. His tawny mother had not known +her son. This alteration, however, was not owing to change of dress; it +was the result of the punishment he had received at the "_set-to_" at +the priory. Not a feature was in its place; his swollen lip trespassed +upon the precincts of his nose; his nose trod hard upon his cheek; while +his cheek again, not to be behind the rest, rose up like an +apple-dumpling under his single eye,--single, we say--for, alas! there +was no speculation in the other. His dexter daylight was utterly +darkened, and, indeed, the orb that remained was as sanguinary a +luminary as ever struggled through a London fog at noonday. To borrow a +couplet or so from the laureate of the _Fancy_: + + --------One of his peepers was put + On the bankruptcy list, with his shop windows shut, + While the other made nearly as tag-rag a show, + All rimmed round with black like the _Courier_ in woe. + +One black patch decorated his rainbow-colored cheek; another adorned his +chin; a grinder having been dislodged, his pipe took possession of the +aperture. His toggery was that of a member of the prize-ring; what we +now call a "belcher" bound his throat; a spotted _fogle_ bandaged his +_jobbernowl_, and shaded his right peeper, while a white beaver crowned +the occiput of the Magus. And though, at first sight, there would appear +to be some incongruity in the association of such a battered character +as the Upright Man with his smart companions, the reader's wonder will +rapidly diminish, when he reflects that any distinguished P. C. man can +ever find a ready passport to the most exclusive society. Viewed in this +light, Zoroaster's familiarity with his _swell_ acquaintance occasioned +no surprise to old Simon Carr, the bottle-nosed landlord of the +Falstaff, who was a man of discernment in his way, and knew a thing or +two. Despite such striking evidences to the contrary, the Magus was +perfectly at his ease, and sacrificing as usual to the god of flame. His +mithra, or pipe, the symbol of his faith, was zealously placed between +his lips, and never did his Chaldean, Bactrian, Persian, Pamphylian, +Proconnesian, or Babylonian namesake, whichever of the six was the true +Zoroaster--_vide_ Bayle,--respire more fervently at the altar of fire, +than our Magus at the end of his enkindled tube. In his creed we believe +Zoroaster was a dualist, and believed in the co-existence and mystical +relation of the principles of good and ill; his pipe being his Yezdan, +or benign influence; his empty pouch his Ahreman, or the devil. We shall +not pause to examine his tenets; we meddle with no man's religious +opinions, and shall leave the Magus to the enjoyment of his own +sentiments, be they what they may. + +One guest alone remains, and him we shall briefly dismiss. The reader, +we imagine, will scarcely need to be told who was the owner of those +keen gray eyes; those exuberant red whiskers; that airy azure frock. It +was + + Our brave co-partner of the roads. + Skilful surveyor of highways and hedges; + +in a word--Dick Turpin! + +Dick had been called upon to act as president of the board, and an +excellent president he made, sedulously devoting himself to the due +administration of the punch-bowl. Not a rummer was allowed to stand +empty for an instant. Toast, sentiment, and anacreontic song, succeeded +each other at speedy intervals; but there was no speechifying--no +politics. He left church and state to take care of themselves. Whatever +his politics might be, Dick never allowed them to interfere with his +pleasures. His maxim was to make the most of the passing moment; the +_dum vivimus vivamus_ was never out of his mind; a precautionary measure +which we recommend to the adoption of all gentlemen of the like, or any +other precarious profession. + +Notwithstanding all Dick's efforts to promote conviviality, seconded by +the excellence of the beverage itself, conversation, somehow or other, +began to flag; from being general it became particular. Tom King, who +was no punch-bibber, especially at that time of day, fell into a deep +reverie; your gamesters often do so; while the Magus, who had smoked +himself drowsy, was composing himself to a doze. Turpin seized this +opportunity of addressing a few words on matters of business to Jerry +Juniper, or, as he now chose to be called, Count Conyers. + +"My dear count," said Dick, in a low and confidential tone, "you are +aware that my errand to town is accomplished. I have _smashed_ Lawyer +Coates's _screen_, pocketed the _dimmock_--here 'tis," continued he, +parenthetically, slapping his pockets,--"and done t'other trick in prime +twig for Tom King. With a cool thousand in hand, I might, if I chose, +rest awhile on my oars. But a quiet life don't suit me. I must be +moving. So I shall start to Yorkshire to-night." + +"Indeed!" said the _soi-disant_ count, in a languid tone--"so soon?" + +"I have nothing to detain me," replied Dick. "And, to tell you the +truth, I want to see how matters stand with Sir Luke Rookwood. I should +be sorry if he went to the wall for want of any assistance I can render +him." + +"True," returned the count; "one would regret such an occurrence, +certainly. But I fear your assistance may arrive a little too late. He +is pretty well done up, I should imagine, by this time." + +"That remains to be seen," said Turpin. "His case is a bad one, to be +sure, but I trust not utterly hopeless. With all his impetuosity and +pride, I like the fellow, and will help him, if I can. It will be a +difficult game to set him on his legs, but I think it may be done. That +underground marriage was sheer madness, and turned out as ill as such a +scheme might have been expected to do. Poor Sybil! if I could pipe an +eye for anything, it should be for her. I can't get her out of my head. +Give me a pinch of snuff. Such thoughts unman one. As to the priest, +that's a totally different affair. If he strangled his daughter, old +Alan did right to take the law into his own hands, and throttle him in +return. I'd have done the same thing myself; and, being a proscribed +Jesuit, returned, as I understand, without the king's license for so +doing, why Father Checkley's murder--if it must be so called, I can't +abide hard terms--won't lie very heavy at Alan's door. That, however, +has nothing to do with Sir Luke. He was neither accessory nor +principal. Still he will be in danger, at least from Lady Rookwood. The +whole county of York, I make no doubt, is up in arms by this time." + +"Then why go thither?" asked the count, somewhat ironically; "for my +part, I've a strange fancy for keeping out of harm's way as long as +possible." + +"Every man to his taste," returned Turpin; "I love to confront danger. +Run away! pshaw! always meet your foe." + +"True," replied the count, "half-way! but you go the whole distance. +What prudent man would beard the lion in his den?" + +"I never was a prudent man," rejoined Dick, smiling; "I have no +superfluous caution about me. Come what will, I shall try to find out +this Luke Rookwood, and offer him my purse, such as it is, and it is now +better lined than usual; a hand free to act as he lists; and a head +which, imprudent though it be, can often think better for others than +for its own master." + +"Vastly fine!" exclaimed the count, with an ill-disguised sneer. "I hope +you don't forget that the marriage certificate which you hold is +perfectly valueless now. The estates, you are aware----" + +"Are no longer Sir Luke's. I see what you are driving at, count," +returned Dick, coldly. "But he will need it to establish his claim to +the title, and he shall have it. While he was Sir Luke, with ten +thousand a year, I drove a hard bargain, and would have stood out for +the last stiver. Now that he is one of '_us_', a mere Knight of the +Road, he shall have it and welcome." + +"Perhaps Lady Rookwood, or Mrs. Mowbray, might be inclined to treat," +maliciously insinuated the count; "the title may be worth something to +Ranulph." + +"It is worth more to Luke; and if it were _not_, he gets it. Are you +satisfied?" + +"Perfectly," replied the count, with affected _bonhomie_; "and I will +now let you into a secret respecting Miss Mowbray, from which you may +gather something for your guidance in this matter; and if the word of a +woman is at all to be trusted, though individually I cannot say I have +much faith in it, Sir Luke's planetary hour is not yet completely +overcast." + +"That's exactly what I wish to know, my dear fellow," said Turpin, +eagerly. "You have already told me you were witness to a singular +interview between Miss Mowbray and Sir Luke after my departure from the +priory. If I mistook you not, the whole business will hinge upon that. +What occurred? Let me have every particular. The whole history and +mystery." + +"You shall have it with pleasure," said the count; "and I hope it may +tend to your benefit. After I had quitted the scene of action at the +priory, and at your desire left the Rookwood party masters of the field, +I fled with the rest of the crew towards the rocks. There we held a +council of war for a short time. Some were for returning to the fight; +but this was negatived entirely, and in the end it was agreed that those +who had wives, daughters, and sisters, should join them as speedily as +possible at their retreat in the Grange. As I happened to have none of +these attractive ties, and had only a troublesome mistress, who I +thought could take care of herself, I did not care to follow them, but +struck deeper into the wood, and made my way, guided by destiny, I +suppose, towards the cave." + +"The cave!" cried Dick, rubbing his hands; "I delight in a cave. Tom +King and I once had a cave of our own at Epping, and I'll have another +one of these fine days. A cave is as proper to a high-tobyman as a +castle to a baron. Pray go on." + +"The cave I speak of," continued the count, "was seldom used, except +upon great emergencies, by any of the Stop Hole Abbey crew. It was a +sort of retiring den of our old lioness Barbara, and, like all +belonging to her, respected by her dupes. However, the cave is a good +cave for all that; is well concealed by brushwood, and comfortably +lighted from a crevice in the rock above; it lies near the brink of the +stream, amongst the woods just above the waterfall, and is somewhat +difficult of approach." + +"I know something of the situation," said Turpin. + +"Well," returned the count, "not to lose time, into this den I crept, +and, expecting to find it vacant, you may imagine my surprise on +discovering that it was already occupied, and that Sir Luke Rookwood, +his granddad, old Alan, Miss Mowbray, and, worst of all, the very person +I wished most to avoid, my old flame Handassah, constituted the party. +Fortunately, they did not perceive my entrance, and I took especial care +not to introduce myself. Retreat, however, was for the moment +impracticable, and I was compelled to be a listener. I cannot tell what +had passed between the parties before my arrival, but I heard Miss +Mowbray implore Sir Luke to conduct her to her mother. He seemed half +inclined to comply with her entreaties; but old Alan shook his head. It +was then Handassah put in a word; the minx was ever ready at that. 'Fear +not,' said she, 'that she will wed Sir Ranulph. Deliver her to her +friends, I beseech you, Sir Luke, and woo her honorably. She will accept +you.' Sir Luke stared incredulously, and grim old Alan smiled. 'She has +sworn to be yours,' continued Handassah; 'sworn it by every hope of +heaven, and the oath has been sealed by blood--by Sybil's blood.'--'Does +she speak the truth?' asked Sir Luke, trembling with agitation. Miss +Mowbray answered not. 'You will not deny it, lady,' said Handassah. 'I +heard that oath proposed. I saw it registered. You cannot deny it.'--'I +do not,' replied Miss Mowbray, with much anguish of manner; 'if he claim +me, I am his.'--'And he will claim you,' said Alan Rookwood, +triumphantly. 'He has your oath, no matter how extorted--you must fulfil +your vow.'--'I am prepared to do so,' said Eleanor. 'But if you would +not utterly destroy me, let this maid conduct me to my mother, to my +friends.'--'To Ranulph?' asked Sir Luke, bitterly.--'No, no,' returned +Miss Mowbray, in accents of deepest despair, 'to my mother--I wish not +to behold him again.'--'Be it so,' cried Sir Luke; 'but remember, in +love or hate, you are mine; I shall claim the fulfilment of your oath. +Farewell. Handassah will lead you to your mother.' Miss Mowbray bowed +her head, but returned no answer, while, followed by old Alan, Sir Luke +departed from the cavern." + +"Whither went they?" demanded Turpin. + +"That I know not," replied Jerry. "I was about to follow, when I was +prevented by the abrupt entrance of another party. Scarcely, I think, +could the two Rookwoods have made good their retreat, when shouts were +heard without, and young Ranulph and Major Mowbray forced their way, +sword in hand, into the cave. Here was a situation--for _me_, I mean--to +the young lady, I make no doubt, it was pleasant enough. But my neck was +in jeopardy. However, you know I am not deficient in strength, and, upon +the present occasion, I made the best use of the agility with which +nature has endowed me. Amidst the joyous confusion--the sobbings, and +embracings, and congratulations that ensued--I contrived, like a wild +cat, to climb the rocky sides of the cave, and concealed myself behind a +jutting fragment of stone. It was well I did so, for scarcely was I +hidden, when in came old Barbara, followed by Mrs. Mowbray, and a dozen +others." + +"Barbara!" ejaculated Dick. "Was she a prisoner?" + +"No," replied Jerry; "the old hell-cat is too deep for that. She had +betrayed Sir Luke, and hoped they would seize him and his granddad. But +the birds were flown." + +"I'm glad she was baulked," said Dick. "Was any search made after them?" + +"Can't say," replied Jerry. "I could only indistinctly catch the sounds +of their voices from my lofty retreat. Before they left the cavern, I +made out that Mrs. Mowbray resolved to go to Rookwood, and to take her +daughter thither--a proceeding to which the latter demurred." + +"To Rookwood," said Dick, musingly. "Will she keep her oath, I wonder?" + +"That's more than I can say," said Jerry, sipping his punch. "'Tis a +deceitful sex!" + +"'Tis a deceitful sex, indeed," echoed Dick, tossing off a tumbler. "For +one Sybil we meet with twenty Handassahs, eh, count?" + +"Twenty!--say rather a hundred," replied Jerry. "'Tis a vile sex." + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_TOM KING_ + + _Grimm._ How gloriously the sun sets to-night. + + _Moor._ When I was a boy, my favorite thought was, that I should + live and die like yonder glorious orb. It was a boyish thought. + + _Grimm._ True, captain. + + _The Robbers._ + + +"Peace, base calumniators," exclaimed Tom King, aroused from his +toothpick reverie by these aspersions of the best part of creation. +"Peace, I say. None shall dare abuse that dear devoted sex in the +hearing of their champion, without pricking a lance with him in their +behalf. What do you, either of you, who abuse woman in that wholesale +style, know of her? Nothing--less than nothing; and yet you venture, +upon your paltry experience, to lift up your voices and decry the sex. +Now I _do_ know her; and upon my own experience avouch, that, as a sex, +woman, compared with man, is as an angel to a devil. As a sex, woman is +faithful, loving, self-sacrificing. _We_ 'tis that make her otherwise; +_we_, selfish, exacting, neglectful men; we teach her indifference, and +then blame her apt scholarship. We spoil our own hand, and then blame +the cards. No abuse of women in my hearing. Give me a glass of grog, +Dick. 'The sex!--three times three!'--and here's a song for you into the +bargain." Saying which, in a mellow, plaintive tone, Tom gave the +following: + + PLEDGE OF THE HIGHWAYMAN + + Come, fill up a bumper to Eve's fairest daughters, + Who have lavished their smiles on the brave and the free; + Toast the sweethearts of DUDLEY, HIND, WILMOT, and WATERS,[94] + Whate'er their attraction, whate'er their degree. + Pledge! pledge in a bumper, each kind-hearted maiden, + Whose bright eyes were dimmed at the highwayman's fall; + Who stood by the gallows with sorrow o'erladen, + Bemoaning the fate of the gallant DU-VAL! + + Here's to each lovely lass chance of war bringeth near one, + Whom, with manner impassioned, we tenderly stop; + And to whom, like the lover addressing his dear one, + In terms of entreaty _the question_ we pop. + How oft, in such case, rosy lips have proved sweeter + Than the rosiest book, bright eyes saved a bright ring; + While that _one other_ kiss has brought off a _repeater_, + And a bead as a _favor_--the _favorite_ string. + + With our hearts ready rifled, each pocket we rifle, + With the pure flame of chivalry stirring our breasts; + Life's risk for our _mistress's praise_ is a trifle; + And each purse as a _trophy_ our _homage_ attests. + Then toss off your glasses to all girls of spirit, + Ne'er with names, or with number, your memories vex; + Our toast, boys, embraces each woman of merit, + And, for fear of omission, we'll drink the WHOLE SEX. + +"Well," replied Dick, replenishing King's rummer, while he laughed +heartily at his ditty, "I shan't refuse your toast, though my heart +don't respond to your sentiments. Ah, Tom! the sex you praise so much +will, I fear, prove your undoing. Do as you please, but curse me if ever +I pin my life to a petticoat. I'd as soon think of neglecting the four +cautions." + +"The four cautions," said King; "what are they?" + +"Did you never hear them?" replied Dick. "Attend, then, and be edified." + + THE FOUR CAUTIONS + + Pay attention to these cautions four, + And through life you will need little more, + Should you dole out your days to threescore + Beware of a pistol before! + Before! before! + Beware of a pistol before! + + And when backward his ears are inclined, + And his tail with his ham is combined, + Caution two you will bear in your mind: + Beware of a prancer behind! + Behind! behind! + Beware of a prancer behind! + + Thirdly, when in the park you may ride, + On your best bit of blood, sir, astride, + Chatting gay to your old friend's young bride: + Beware of a coach at the side! + At the side! at the side! + Beware of a coach at the side! + + Lastly, whether in purple or gray, + Canter, ranter, grave, solemn, or gay, + Whate'er he may do or may say, + Beware of a priest every way! + Every way! every way! + Beware of a priest every way! + +"Well," said Tom King, "all you can sing or say don't alter my good +opinion of the women. Not a secret have I from the girl of my heart. She +could have sold me over and over again if she had chosen, but my sweet +Sue is not the wench to do that." + +"It is not too late," said Dick. "Your Delilah may yet hand you over to +the Philistines." + +"Then I shall die in a good cause," said King; "but + + The Tyburn Tree + Has no terrors for me, + Let better men swing--I'm at liberty. + +I shall never come to the scragging-post, unless you turn topsman, Dick +Turpin. My nativity has been cast, and the stars have declared I am to +die by the hand of my best friend--and that's you--eh? Dick?" + +"It sounds like it," replied Turpin; "but I advise you not to become too +intimate with Jack Ketch. He may prove your best friend, after all." + +"Why, faith, that's true," replied King, laughing; "and if I must ride +backwards up Holborn Hill, I'll do the thing in style, and honest Jack +Ketch shall never want his dues. A man should always die game. We none +of us know how soon our turn may come; but come when it will, _I_ shall +never flinch from it. + + As the highwayman's life is the fullest of zest, + So the highwayman's death is the briefest and best; + He dies not as other men die, by degrees, + But at once! without flinching--and quite at his ease! + +as the song you are so fond of says. When I die it will not be of +consumption. And if the surgeon's knife must come near me, it will be +after death. There's some comfort in that reflection, at all events." + +"True," replied Turpin, "and, with a little alteration, my song would +suit you capitally: + + There is not a king, should you search the world round, + So blithe as the king's king, TOM KING, to be found; + Dear woman's his empire, each girl is his own, + And he'd have a long reign if he'd let 'em alone. + +Ha, ha!" + +"Ha, ha!" laughed Tom. "And now, Dick, to change the subject. You are +off, I understand, to Yorkshire to-night. 'Pon my soul, you are a +wonderful fellow--an _alibi_ personified!--here and everywhere at the +same time--no wonder you are called the flying highwayman. To-day in +town--to-morrow at York--the day after at Chester. The devil only knows +where you will pitch your quarters a week hence. There are rumors of you +in all counties at the same moment. This man swears you robbed him at +Hounslow; that on Salisbury Plain; while another avers you monopolize +Cheshire and Yorkshire, and that it isn't safe even to _hunt_ without +pops in your pocket. I heard some devilish good stories of you at +D'Osyndar's t'other day; the fellow who told them to me little thought I +was a brother blade." + +"You flatter me," said Dick, smiling complacently; "but it's no merit of +mine. Black Bess alone enables me to do it, and hers be the credit. +Talking of being everywhere at the same time, you shall hear what she +once did for me in Cheshire. Meantime, a glass to the best mare in +England. You won't refuse that toast, Tom. Ah! if your mistress is only +as true to you as my nag to me, you might set at naught the tightest +hempen cravat that was ever twisted, and defy your best friend to hurt +you. Black Bess! and God bless her! And now for the song." Saying which, +with much emotion, Turpin chanted the following rhymes: + + BLACK BESS + + Let the lover his mistress's beauty rehearse, + And laud her attractions in languishing verse; + Be it mine in rude strains, but with truth to express, + The love that I bear to my bonny Black Bess. + + From the west was her dam, from the east was her sire, + From the one came her swiftness, the other her fire; + No peer of the realm better blood can possess + Than flows in the veins of my bonny Black Bess. + + Look! Look! how that eyeball grows bright as a brand! + That neck proudly arches, those nostrils expand! + Mark! that wide flowing mane! of which each silky tress + Might adorn prouder beauties--though none like Black Bess. + + Mark! that skin sleek as velvet, and dusky as night, + With its jet undisfigured by one lock of white; + That throat branched with veins, prompt to charge or caress + Now is she not beautiful?--bonny Black Bess! + + Over highway and by-way, in rough and smooth weather, + Some thousands of miles have we journeyed together; + Our couch the same straw, and our meal the same mess + No couple more constant than I and Black Bess. + + By moonlight, in darkness, by night, or by day, + Her headlong career there is nothing can stay; + She cares not for distance, she knows not distress: + Can you show me a courser to match with Black Bess? + +"Egad! I should think not," exclaimed King; "you are as sentimental on +the subject of your mare, as I am when I think of my darling Susan. But +pardon my interruption. Pray proceed." + +"Let me first clear my throat," returned Dick; "and now to resume:" + + Once it happened in Cheshire, near Dunham, I popped + On a horseman alone, whom I speedily stopped; + That I lightened his pockets you'll readily guess-- + Quick work makes Dick Turpin when mounted on Bess. + + Now it seems the man knew me; "Dick Turpin," said he, + "You shall swing for this job, as you live, d'ye see;" + I laughed at his threats and his vows of redress; + I was sure of an _alibi_ then with Black Bess. + + The road was a hollow, a sunken ravine,[95] + Overshadowed completely by wood like a screen; + I clambered the bank, and I needs must confess, + That one touch of the spur grazed the side of Black Bess. + + Brake, brook, meadow, and plough'd field, Bess fleetly bestrode, + As the crow wings her flight we selected our road; + We arrived at Hough Green in five minutes, or less-- + My neck it was saved by the speed of Black Bess. + + Stepping carelessly forward, I lounge on the green, + Taking excellent care that by all I am seen; + Some remarks on time's flight to the squires I address, + But I say not a word of the flight of Black Bess. + + I mention the hour--it was just about four-- + Play a rubber at bowls--think the danger is o'er; + When athwart my next game, like a checkmate at chess, + Comes the horsemen in search of the rider of Bess. + + What matter details? Off with triumph I came; + He swears to the hour, and the squires swear the same; + I had robbed him at _four_!--while at four _they_ profess + I was quietly bowling--all thanks to Black Bess! + + Then one halloo, boys, one loud cheering halloo! + To the swiftest of coursers, the gallant, the true! + For the sportsman unborn shall the memory bless + Of the horse of the highwayman, bonny Black Bess! + +Loud acclamations rewarded Dick's performance. Awakened from his doze, +Zoroaster beat time to the melody, the only thing, Jerry said, he was +capable of _beating_ in his present shattered condition. After some +little persuasion, the Magus was prevailed upon to enliven the company +with a strain, which he trolled forth after a maudlin manner: + + THE DOUBLE CROSS + + Though all of us have heard of _crost_ fights, + And certain _gains_, by certain _lost_ fights, + I rather fancies that it's news, + How in a mill, _both_ men should _lose_; + For vere the _odds_ are thus made _even_, + It plays the dickens with the _steven_;[96] + Besides, against all rule they're sinning, + Vere _neither_ has _no_ chance of vinning. + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + + Two _milling coves_, each vide avake, + Vere backed to fight for heavy stake: + But in the mean time, so it vos, + Both _kids_ agreed to _play a cross_; + Bold came each _buffer_[97] to the _scratch_, + To make it look a _tightish match_; + They _peeled_[98] in style, and bets vere making, + 'Tvos six to four, but few vere _taking_. + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + + Quite cautiously the mill began, + For neither knew the other's plan; + Each _cull_[99] completely in the _dark_, + Of vot might be his neighbor's _mark_; + Resolved his _fibbing_[100] not to mind, + Nor yet to _pay him back in kind_; + So on each other _kept they tout_,[101] + And _sparred_ a bit, and _dodged_ about, + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + + Vith _mawleys_[102] raised, Tom bent his back, + As if to _plant_ a heavy thwack: + Vile Jem, with neat left-handed _stopper_, + Straight threatened Tommy with a _topper_; + 'Tis all my eye! no _claret_ flows, + No _facers_ sound--no smashing blows-- + Five minutes pass, yet not a _hit_, + How can it end, pals?--vait a bit. + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + + Each cove vas _teazed_ with double duty, + To please his backers, yet _play booty_;[103] + Ven, luckily for Jem, a _teller_ + Vos planted right upon his _smeller_; + Down dropped he, stunned; ven time vas called, + Seconds in vain the _seconds_ bawled; + The _mill_ is o'er, the crosser _crost_, + The loser's _von_, the vinner's _lost_! + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + +The party assumed once more a lively air, and the glass was circulated +so freely, that at last a final charge drained the ample bowl of its +contents. + +"The best of friends must part," said Dick; "and I would willingly order +another whiff of punch, but I think we have all had _enough to satisfy +us_, as you milling coves have it, Zory! Your one eye has got a drop in +it already, old fellow; and, to speak the truth, I must be getting into +the saddle without more delay, for I have a long ride before me. And +now, friend Jerry, before I start, suppose you tip us one of your merry +staves; we haven't heard your pipe to-day, and never a cross cove of us +all can throw off so prime a chant as yourself. A song! a song!" + +"Ay, a song!" reiterated King and the Magus. + +"You do me too much honor, gemmen," said Jerry, modestly, taking a pinch +of snuff; "I am sure I shall be most happy. My chants are all of a sort. +You must make all due allowances--hem!" And, clearing his throat, he +forthwith warbled + + THE MODERN GREEK + + (_Not_ translated from the Romaic.) + + Come, gemmen, name, and make your game, + See, round the ball is spinning. + Black, red, or blue, the colors view, + _Une_, _deux_, _cinque_, 'tis beginning, + Then make your game, + The color name, + While round the ball is spinning. + + This sleight of hand my _flat_ shall _land_ + While _covered_ by my _bonnet_,[104] + I _plant_ my ball, and boldly call, + Come make your game upon it! + Thus rat-a-tat! + I land my flat! + 'Tis black--not red--is winning. + + At gay _roulette_ was never met + A lance like mine for _bleeding_! + I'm ne'er _at fault_, at nothing halt, + All other _legs_ preceding. + To all awake, + I never shake + A _mag_[105] unless I nip it. + + _Blind-hookey_ sees how well I squeeze + The _well-packed_ cards in shuffling. + Ecart, whist, I never missed, + A nick the _broads_[106] while ruffling. + Mogul or loo, + The same I do, + I am down to trumps as trippet! + + _French hazard_ ta'en, _I nick the main_, + Was ne'er so prime a _caster_. + No _crabs_ for me, I'm fly, d'ye see; + The bank shall change its master. + Seven _quatre_, _trois_, + The stakes are high! + Ten _mains_! ten _mains_ are mine, pals! + + At _Rouge et Noir_, you _hellite_[107] choir + I'll make no bones of stripping; + One glorious _coup_ for me shall _do_, + While they may deal each _pip_ in. + _Trente-un-aprs_ + Ne'er clogs my way; + The game--the game's divine, pals. + + At billiards set, I make my bet, + I'll _score_ and win the _rub_, pals; + I miss my _cue_, my _hazard_, too, + But yet my foe I'll drub, pals. + That _cannon-twist_, + I ne'er had missed, + Unless to suit my views, pals. + + To make all right, the match look _tight_, + This trick, you know, is done, pals; + But now be gay, I'll _show_ my play-- + Hurrah! the game is won, pals. + No hand so fine, + No wrist like mine, + No odds I e'er refuse, pals. + + Then choose your game; whate'er you name, + To me alike all offers; + Chic-hazard, whist, whate'er you list, + Replenish quick your coffers. + Thus, rat-a-tat! + I _land_ my _flat_! + To every purse I _speak_, pals. + + _Cramped boxes_ 'ware, all's right and fair, + _Barred balls_ I _bar_ when goaded; + The deuce an ace is out of place! + The deuce a die is _loaded_! + Then make your game, + Your color name; + Success attend the _Greek_, pals. + +"Bravo, Jerry--bravissimo!" chorused the party. + +"And now, pals, farewell!--a long farewell!" said Dick, in a tone of +theatrical valediction. "As I said before, the best friends must +separate. We may soon meet again, or we now may part forever. We cannot +command our luck; but we can make the best of the span allotted to us. +You have your game to play. I have mine. May each of us meet with the +success he deserves." + +"Egad! I hope not," said King. "I'm afraid, in that case, the chances +would be against us." + +"Well, then, the success we anticipate, if you prefer it," rejoined +Dick. "I have only to observe one thing more, namely, that I must insist +upon standing Sam upon the present occasion. Not a word. I won't hear a +syllable. Landlord, I say--what oh!" continued Dick, stepping out of the +arbor. "Here, my old Admiral of the White, what's the reckoning?--what's +to pay, I say?" + +"Let ye know directly, sir," replied mine host of the Falstaff. + +"Order my horse--the black mare," added Dick. + +"And mine," said King, "the sorrel colt. I'll ride with you a mile or +two on the road, Dick; perhaps we may stumble upon something." + +"Very likely." + +"We meet at twelve, at D'Osyndar's, Jerry," said King, "if nothing +happens." + +"Agreed," responded Juniper. + +"What say you to a rubber at bowls, in the mean time?" said the Magus, +taking his everlasting pipe from his lips. + +Jerry nodded acquiescence. And while they went in search of the +implements of the game, Turpin and King sauntered gently on the green. + +It was a delicious evening. The sun was slowly declining, and glowed +like a ball of fire amid the thick foliage of a neighboring elm. +Whether, like the robber Moor, Tom King was touched by this glorious +sunset, we pretend not to determine. Certain it was that a shade of +inexpressible melancholy passed across his handsome countenance, as he +gazed in the direction of Harrow-on-the Hill, which, lying to the west +of the green upon which they walked, stood out with its pointed spire +and lofty college against the ruddy sky. He spoke not. But Dick noticed +the passing emotion. + +"What ails you, Tom?" said he, with much kindness of manner--"are you +not well, lad?" + +"Yes, I am well enough," said King; "I know not what came over me, but +looking at Harrow, I thought of my school days, and what I was _then_, +and that bright prospect reminded me of my boyish hopes." + +"Tut--tut," said Dick, "this is idle--you are a man now." + +"I know I am," replied Tom, "but I _have_ been a boy. Had I any faith in +presentiments, I should say this is the last sunset I shall ever see." + +"Here comes our host," said Dick, smiling. "I've no presentiment that +this is the last bill I shall ever pay." + +The bill was brought and settled. As Turpin paid it, the man's conduct +was singular, and awakened his suspicions. + +"Are our horses ready?" asked Dick, quickly. + +"They are, sir," said the landlord. + +"Let us be gone," whispered Dick to King; "I don't like this fellow's +manner. I thought I heard a carriage draw up at the inn door just +now--there may be danger. Be fly!" added he to Jerry and the Magus. +"Now, sir," said he to the landlord, "lead the way. Keep on the alert, +Tom." + +Dick's hint was not lost upon the two bowlers. They watched their +comrades; and listened intently for any manifestation of alarm. + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_A SURPRISE_ + + Was this well done, Jenny?--_Captain Macheath._ + + +While Turpin and King are walking across the bowling-green, we will see +what has taken place outside the inn. Tom's presentiments of danger were +not, it appeared, without foundation. Scarcely had the ostler brought +forth our two highwaymen's steeds, when a post-chaise, escorted by two +or three horsemen, drove furiously up to the door. The sole occupant of +the carriage was a lady, whose slight and pretty figure was all that +could be distinguished, her face being closely veiled. The landlord, who +was busied in casting up Turpin's account, rushed forth at the summons. +A word or two passed between him and the horsemen, upon which the +former's countenance fell. He posted in the direction of the garden; and +the horsemen instantly dismounted. + +"We have him now, sure enough," said one of them, a very small man, who +looked, in his boots, like Buckle equipped for the Oaks. + +"By the powers! I begin to think so," replied the other horseman. "But +don't spoil all, Mr. Coates, by being too precipitate." + +"Never fear that, Mr. Tyrconnel," said Coates; for it was the gallant +attorney: "he's sure to come for his mare. That's a _trap_ certain to +catch him, eh, Mr. Paterson? With the chief constable of Westminster to +back us, the devil's in it if we are not a match for him." + +"And for Tom King, too," replied the chief constable; "since his +blowen's peached, the game's up with him, too. We've long had an eye +upon him, and now we'll have a finger. He's one of your dashing trouts +to whom we always give a long line, but we'll _land_ him this time, +anyhow. If you'll look after Dick Turpin, gemmen, I'll make sure of +Tom." + +"I'd rather you would help _us_, Mr. Paterson," said Coates; "never mind +Tom King; another time will do for him." + +"No such thing," said Paterson; "one _weighs_ just as much for that +matter as t'other. I'll take Tom to myself, and surely you two, with the +landlord and ostler, can manage Turpin amongst you." + +"I don't know that," said Coates, doubtfully; "he's a devil of a fellow +to deal with." + +"Take him quietly," said Paterson. "Draw the chaise out of the way, lad. +Take our tits to one side, and place their nags near the door, ostler. +Shall you be able to see him, ma'am, where you are?" asked the chief +constable, walking to the carriage, and touching his hat to the lady +within. Having received a satisfactory nod from the bonnet and veil, he +returned to his companions. "And now, gemmen," added he, "let's step +aside a little. Don't use your fire-arms too soon." + +As if conscious of what was passing around her, and of the danger that +awaited her master, Black Bess exhibited so much impatience, and plunged +so violently, that it was with difficulty the ostler could hold her. +"The devil's in the mare," said he; "what's the matter with her? She was +quiet enough a few minutes since. Soho! lass, stand." + +Turpin and King, meanwhile, walked quickly through the house, preceded +by the host, who conducted them, and not without some inward +trepidation, towards the door. Arrived there, each man rushed swiftly to +his horse. Dick was in the saddle in an instant, and stamping her foot +on the ostler's leg, Black Bess compelled the man, yelling with pain, to +quit his hold of the bridle. Tom King was not equally fortunate. Before +he could mount his horse, a loud shout was raised, which startled the +animal, and caused him to swerve, so that Tom lost his footing in the +stirrup, and fell to the ground. He was instantly seized by Paterson, +and a struggle commenced, King endeavoring, but in vain, to draw a +pistol. + +"Flip him,[108] Dick; fire, or I'm taken," cried King. "Fire! damn you, +why don't you fire?" shouted he, in desperation, still struggling +vehemently with Paterson, who was a strong man, and more than a match +for a light weight like King. + +"I can't," cried Dick; "I shall hit you, if I fire." + +"Take your chance," shouted King. "Is _this_ your friendship?" + +Thus urged, Turpin fired. The ball ripped up the sleeve of Paterson's +coat, but did not wound him. + +"Again!" cried King. "Shoot him, I say. Don't you hear me? Fire again!" + +Pressed as he was by foes on every side, himself their mark, for both +Coates and Tyrconnel had fired upon him, and were now mounting their +steeds to give chase, it was impossible that Turpin could take sure aim; +added to which, in the struggle, Paterson and King were each moment +changing their relative positions. He, however, would no longer +hesitate, but again, at his friend's request, fired. The ball lodged +itself in King's breast! He fell at once. At this instant a shriek was +heard from the chaise: the window was thrown open, and her thick veil +being drawn aside, the features of a very pretty female, now impressed +with terror and contrition, were suddenly exhibited. + +King fixed his glazing eyes upon her. + +"Susan!" sighed he, "is it you that I behold?" + +"Yes, yes, 'tis she, sure enough," said Paterson. "You see, ma'am, what +you and such like have brought him to. However, you'll lose your reward; +he's going fast enough." + +"Reward!" gasped King; "reward! Did she betray me?" + +"Ay, ay, sir," said Paterson, "she blowed the gaff, if it's any +consolation to you to know it." + +"Consolation!" repeated the dying man; "perfidious!--oh!--the +prophecy--my best friend--Turpin--I die by his hand." + +And vainly striving to raise himself, he fell backwards and expired. +Alas, poor Tom! + +"Mr. Paterson! Mr. Paterson!" cried Coates; "leave the landlord to look +after the body of that dying ruffian, and mount with us in pursuit of +the living rascal. Come, sir; quick! mount! despatch! You see he is +yonder; he seems to hesitate; we shall have him now." + +"Well, gemmen, I'm ready," said Paterson; "but how the devil came you to +let him escape?" + +"Saint Patrick only knows!" said Titus; "he's as slippery as an +eel--and, like a cat, turn him which way you will, he is always sure to +alight upon his legs. I wouldn't wonder but we lose him now, after all, +though he has such a small start. That mare flies like the wind." + +"He shall have a tight run for it, at all events," said Paterson, +putting spurs into his horse. "I've got a good nag under me, and you are +neither of you badly mounted. He's only three hundred yards before us, +and the devil's in it if we can't run him down. It's a three hundred +pound job, Mr. Coates, and well worth a race." + +"You shall have another hundred from me, sir, if you take him," said +Coates, urging his steed forward. + +"Thank you, sir, thank you. Follow my directions, and we'll make sure of +him," said the constable. "Gently, gently, not so fast up the hill--you +see he's breathing his horse. All in good time, Mr. Coates--all in good +time, sir." + +And maintaining an equal distance, both parties cantered leisurely up +the ascent now called Windmill Hill. We shall now return to Turpin. + +Aghast at the deed he had accidentally committed, Dick remained for a +few moments irresolute; he perceived that King was mortally wounded, and +that all attempts at rescue would be fruitless; he perceived, likewise, +that Jerry and the Magus had effected their escape from the +bowling-green, as he could detect their figures stealing along the +hedge-side. He hesitated no longer. Turning his horse, he galloped +slowly off, little heeding the pursuit with which he was threatened. + +"Every bullet has its billet," said Dick; "but little did I think that I +really should turn poor Tom's executioner. To the devil with this +rascally snapper," cried he, throwing the pistol over the hedge. "I +could never have used it again. 'Tis strange, too, that he should have +foretold his own fate--devilish strange! And then that he should have +been betrayed by the very blowen he trusted! that's a lesson, if I +wanted any. But trust a woman!--not I, the length of my little finger." + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_THE HUE AND CRY_ + + Six gentlemen upon the road + Thus seeing Gilpin fly, + With postboy scampering in the rear, + They raised the hue and cry: + + Stop thief! stop thief! a highwayman! + Not one of them was mute; + And all and each that passed that way + Did join in the pursuit. + + _John Gilpin._ + + +Arrived at the brow of the hill, whence such a beautiful view of the +country surrounding the metropolis is obtained,[109] Turpin turned for +an instant to reconnoitre his pursuers. Coates and Titus he utterly +disregarded; but Paterson was a more formidable foe, and he well knew +that he had to deal with a man of experience and resolution. It was +then, for the first time, that the thoughts of executing his +extraordinary ride to York first flashed across him; his bosom throbbed +high with rapture, and he involuntarily exclaimed aloud, as he raised +himself in the saddle, "By God! I will do it!" + +He took one last look at the great Babel that lay buried in a world of +trees beneath him; and as his quick eye ranged over the magnificent +prospect, lit up by that gorgeous sunset, he could not help thinking of +Tom King's last words. "Poor fellow!" thought Dick, "he said truly. He +will never see another sunset." Aroused by the approaching clatter of +his pursuers, Dick struck into a lane which lies on the right of the +road, now called Shoot-up-hill Lane, and set off at a good pace in the +direction of Hampstead. + +"Now," cried Paterson, "put your tits to it, my boys. We must not lose +sight of him for a second in these lanes." + +Accordingly, as Turpin was by no means desirous of inconveniencing his +mare in this early stage of the business, and as the ground was still +upon an ascent, the parties preserved their relative distances. + +At length, after various twistings and turnings in that deep and devious +lane; after scaring one or two farmers, and riding over a brood or two +of ducks; dipping into the verdant valley of West End, and ascending +another hill, Turpin burst upon the gorsy, sandy, and beautiful heath of +Hampstead. Shaping his course to the left, Dick then made for the lower +part of the heath, and skirted a path that leads towards North End, +passing the furze-crowned summit which is now crested by a clump of +lofty pines. + +It was here that the chase first assumed a character of interest. Being +open ground, the pursued and pursuers were in full view of each other; +and as Dick rode swiftly across the heath, with the shouting trio hard +at his heels, the scene had a very animated appearance. He crossed the +hill--the Hendon Road--passed Crackskull Common--and dashed along the +cross road to Highgate. + +Hitherto no advantage had been gained by the pursuers; they had not lost +ground, but still they had not gained an inch, and much spurring was +required to maintain their position. As they approached Highgate, Dick +slackened his pace, and the other party redoubled their efforts. To +avoid the town, Dick struck into a narrow path at the right, and rode +easily down the hill. + +His pursuers were now within a hundred yards, and shouted to him to +stand. Pointing to a gate which seemed to bar their further progress, +Dick unhesitatingly charged it, clearing it in beautiful style. Not so +with Coates's party; and the time they lost in unfastening the gate, +which none of them chose to leap, enabled Dick to put additional space +betwixt them. It did not, however, appear to be his intention altogether +to outstrip his pursuers: the chase seemed to give him excitement, which +he was willing to prolong as much as was consistent with his safety. +Scudding rapidly past Highgate, like a swift-sailing schooner, with +three lumbering Indiamen in her wake, Dick now took the lead along a +narrow lane that threads the fields in the direction of Hornsey. The +shouts of his followers had brought others to join them, and as he +neared Crouch End, traversing the lane which takes its name from Du-Val, +and in which a house frequented by that gayest of robbers stands, or +stood, "A highwayman! a highwayman!" rang in his ears, in a discordant +chorus of many voices. + +The whole neighborhood was alarmed by the cries, and by the tramp of +horses: the men of Hornsey rushed into the road to seize the fugitive, +and women held up their babes to catch a glimpse of the flying +cavalcade, which seemed to gain number and animation as it advanced. +Suddenly three horsemen appear in the road--they hear the uproar and the +din. "A highwayman! a highwayman!" cry the voices: "stop him, stop him!" +But it is no such easy matter. With a pistol in each hand, and his +bridle in his teeth, Turpin passed boldly on. His fierce looks--his +furious steed--the impetus with which he pressed forward, bore down all +before him. The horsemen gave way, and only served to swell the list of +his pursuers. + +"We have him now--we have him now!" cried Paterson, exultingly. "Shout +for your lives. The turnpike man will hear us. Shout again--again! The +fellow has heard it. The gate is shut. We have him. Ha, ha!" + +The old Hornsey toll-bar was a high gate, with chevaux-de-frise on the +upper rail. It may be so still. The gate was swung into its lock, and, +like a tiger in his lair, the prompt custodian of the turnpike trusts, +ensconced within his doorway, held himself in readiness to spring upon +the runaway. But Dick kept steadily on. He coolly calculated the height +of the gate; he looked to the right and to the left--nothing better +offered; he spoke a few words of encouragement to Bess, gently patted +her neck, then struck his spurs into her sides, and cleared the spikes +by an inch. Out rushed the amazed turnpike man, thus unmercifully +bilked, and was nearly trampled to death under the feet of Paterson's +horse. + +"Open the gate, fellow, and be expeditious," shouted the chief +constable. + +"Not I," said the man, sturdily, "unless I gets my dues. I've been done +once already. But strike me stupid if I'm done a second time." + +"Don't you perceive that's a highwayman? Don't you know that I'm chief +constable of Westminster?" said Paterson, showing his staff. "How dare +you oppose me in the discharge of my duty?" + +"That may be, or it may not be," said the man, doggedly. "But you don't +pass, unless I gets the blunt, and that's the long and short on it." + +Amidst a storm of oaths, Coates flung down a crown piece, and the gate +was thrown open. + +Turpin took advantage of this delay to breathe his mare; and, striking +into a by-lane at Duckett's Green, cantered easily along in the +direction of Tottenham. Little repose was allowed him. Yelling like a +pack of hounds in full cry, his pursuers were again at his heels. He had +now to run the gauntlet of the long straggling town of Tottenham, and +various were the devices of the populace to entrap him. The whole place +was up in arms, shouting, screaming, running, dancing, and hurling every +possible description of missile at the horse and her rider. Dick merrily +responded to their clamor as he flew past, and laughed at the brickbats +that were showered thick as hail, and quite as harmlessly, around him. + +A few more miles' hard riding tired the volunteers, and before the chase +reached Edmonton most of them were "_nowhere_." Here fresh relays were +gathered, and a strong field was again mustered. John Gilpin himself +could not have excited more astonishment amongst the good folks of +Edmonton, than did our highwayman as he galloped through their town. +Unlike the men of Tottenham, the mob received him with acclamations, +thinking, no doubt, that, like "the citizens of famous London town," he +rode for a wager. Presently, however, borne on the wings of the blast, +came the cries of "Turpin! Dick Turpin!" and the hurrahs were changed to +hootings; but such was the rate at which our highwayman rode, that no +serious opposition could be offered to him. + +A man in a donkey-cart, unable to get out of the way, drew himself up in +the middle of the road. Turpin treated him as he had done the _dub_ at +the _knapping jigger_, and cleared the driver and his little wain with +ease. This was a capital stroke, and well adapted to please the +multitude, who are ever taken with a brilliant action. "Hark away, +Dick!" resounded on all hands, while hisses were as liberally bestowed +upon his pursuers. + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_THE SHORT PIPE_ + + The Peons are capital horsemen, and several times we saw them, at a + gallop, throw the rein on the horse's neck, take from one pocket a + bag of loose tobacco, and, with a piece of paper, or a leaf of + Indian corn, make a cigar, and then take out a flint and steel and + light it. + + HEAD'S _Rough Notes_. + + +Away they fly past scattered cottages, swiftly and skimmingly, like +eagles on the wing, along the Enfield highway. All were well mounted, +and the horses, now thoroughly warmed, had got into their paces, and did +their work beautifully. None of Coates's party lost ground, but they +maintained it at the expense of their steeds, which were streaming like +water-carts, while Black Bess had scarcely turned a hair. + +Turpin, the reader already knows, was a crack rider; he was _the_ crack +rider of England of his time, and, perhaps, of any time. The craft and +mystery of jockeyship was not so well understood in the eighteenth as it +is in the nineteenth century; men treated their horses differently, and +few rode them as well as many ride now, when every youngster takes to +the field as naturally as if he had been bred a Guacho. Dick Turpin was +a glorious exception to the rule, and anticipated a later age. He rode +wonderfully lightly, yet sat his saddle to perfection, distributing the +weight so exquisitely that his horse scarcely felt his pressure; he +yielded to every movement made by the animal, and became, as it were, +part and parcel of itself; he took care Bess should be neither strained +nor wrung. Freely, and as lightly as a feather, was she borne along; +beautiful was it to see her action--to watch her style and temper of +covering the ground; and many a first-rate Meltonian might have got a +wrinkle from Turpin's seat and conduct. + +We have before stated that it was not Dick's object to _ride away_ from +his pursuers--he could have done that at any moment. He liked the fun of +the chase, and would have been sorry to put a period to his own +excitement. Confident in his mare, he just kept her at such speed as +should put his pursuers completely _to it_, without in the slightest +degree inconveniencing himself. Some judgment of the speed at which they +went may be formed, when we state that little better than an hour had +elapsed and nearly twenty miles had been ridden over. "Not bad +travelling that," methinks we hear the reader exclaim. + +"By the mother that bore me," said Titus, as they went along in this +slapping style--Titus, by-the-by, rode a big, Roman-nosed, powerful +horse, well adapted to his weight, but which required a plentiful +exercise both of leg and arm to call forth all his action, and keep his +rider alongside his companions--"by the mother that bore me," said he, +almost thumping the wind out of his flea-bitten Bucephalus with his +calves, after the Irish fashion, "if the fellow isn't lighting his pipe! +I saw the sparks fly on each side of him, and there he goes like a smoky +chimney on a frosty morning! See, he turns his impudent phiz, with the +pipe in his mouth! Are we to stand that, Mr. Coates?" + +"Wait awhile, sir--wait awhile," said Coates; "we'll smoke _him_ +by-and-by." + +Pans have been sung in honor of the Peons of the Pampas by the +_Head_long Sir Francis; but what the gallant major extols so loudly in +the South American horsemen, viz., the lighting of a cigar when in mid +career, was accomplished with equal ease by our English highwayman a +hundred years ago, nor was it esteemed by him any extravagant feat +either. Flint, steel, and tinder were bestowed within Dick's ample +pouch, the short pipe was at hand, and within a few seconds there was a +stream of vapor exhaling from his lips, like the smoke from a steamboat +shooting down the river, and tracking his still rapid course through the +air. + +"I'll let 'em see what I think of 'em!" said Dick, coolly, as he turned +his head. + +It was now gray twilight. The mists of coming night were weaving a thin +curtain over the rich surrounding landscape. All the sounds and hum of +that delicious hour were heard, broken only by the regular clatter of +the horses' hoofs. Tired of shouting, the chasers now kept on their way +in deep silence; each man held his breath, and plunged his spurs, rowel +deep, into his horse; but the animals were already at the top of their +speed, and incapable of greater exertion. Paterson, who was a hard +rider, and perhaps a thought better mounted, kept the lead. The rest +followed as they might. + +Had it been undisturbed by the rush of the cavalcade, the scene would +have been still and soothing. Overhead a cloud of rooks were winging +their garrulous flight to the ancestral avenue of an ancient mansion to +the right; the bat was on the wing; the distant lowing of a herd of kine +saluted the ear at intervals; the blithe whistle of the rustic herdsman, +and the merry chime of waggon bells, rang pleasantly from afar. But +these cheerful sounds, which make the still twilight hour delightful, +were lost in the tramp of the horsemen, now three abreast. The hind fled +to the hedge for shelter, and the waggoner pricked up his ears, and +fancied he heard the distant rumbling of an earthquake. + +On rush the pack, whipping, spurring, tugging for very life. Again they +gave voice, in hopes the waggoner might succeed in stopping the +fugitive. But Dick was already by his side. "Harkee, my tulip," cried +he, taking the pipe from his mouth as he passed, "tell my friends behind +they will hear of me at York." + +"What did he say?" asked Paterson, coming up the next moment. + +"That you'll find him at York," replied the waggoner. + +"At York!" echoed Coates, in amaze. + +Turpin was now out of sight, and although our trio flogged with might +and main, they could never catch a glimpse of him until, within a short +distance of Ware, they beheld him at the door of a little public house, +standing with his bridle in his hand, coolly quaffing a tankard of ale. +No sooner were they in sight, than Dick vaulted into the saddle, and +rode off. + +"Devil seize you, sir! why didn't you stop him?" exclaimed Paterson, as +he rode up. "My horse is dead lame. I cannot go any further. Do you know +what a prize you have missed? Do you know who that was?" + +"No, sir, I don't," said the publican. "But I know he gave his mare more +ale than he took himself, and he has given me a guinea instead of a +shilling. He's a regular good 'un." + +"A good 'un!" said Paterson; "it was Turpin, the notorious highwayman. +We are in pursuit of him. Have you any horses? our cattle are all +blown." + +"You'll find the post-house in the town, gentlemen. I'm sorry I can't +accommodate you. But I keeps no stabling. I wish you a very good +evening, sir." Saying which, the publican retreated to his domicile. + +"That's a flash crib, I'll be bound," said Paterson. "I'll chalk you +down, my friend, you may rely upon it. Thus far we're done, Mr. Coates. +But curse me if I give it in. I'll follow him to the world's end first." + +"Right, sir--right," said the attorney. "A very proper spirit, Mr. +Constable. You would be guilty of neglecting your duty were you to act +otherwise. You must recollect my father, Mr. Paterson--Christopher, or +Kit Coates; a name as well known at the Old Bailey as Jonathan Wild's. +You recollect him--eh?" + +"Perfectly well, sir," replied the chief constable. + +"The greatest thief-taker, though I say it," continued Coates, "on +record. I inherit all his zeal--all his ardor. Come along, sir. We shall +have a fine moon in an hour--bright as day. To the post-house! to the +post-house!" + +Accordingly to the post-house they went; and, with as little delay as +circumstances admitted, fresh hacks being procured, accompanied by a +postilion, the party again pursued their onward course, encouraged to +believe they were still in the right scent. + +Night had now spread her mantle over the earth; still it was not wholly +dark. A few stars were twinkling in the deep, cloudless heavens, and a +pearly radiance in the eastern horizon heralded the rising of the orb of +night. A gentle breeze was stirring; the dews of evening had already +fallen; and the air felt bland and dry. It was just the night one would +have chosen for a ride, if one ever rode by choice at such an hour; and +to Turpin, whose chief excursions were conducted by night, it appeared +little less than heavenly. + +Full of ardor and excitement, determined to execute what he had mentally +undertaken, Turpin held on his solitary course. Everything was favorable +to his project; the roads were in admirable condition, his mare was in +like order; she was inured to hard work, had rested sufficiently in town +to recover from the fatigue of her recent journey, and had never been in +more perfect training. "She has now got her wind in her," said Dick; +"I'll see what she can do--hark away, lass--hark away! I wish they could +see her now," added he, as he felt her almost fly away with him. + +Encouraged by her master's voice and hand, Black Bess started forward at +a pace which few horses could have equalled, and scarcely any have +sustained so long. Even Dick, accustomed as he was to her magnificent +action, felt electrified at the speed with which he was borne along. +"Bravo! bravo!" shouted he, "hark away, Bess!" + +The deep and solemn woods through which they were rushing rang with his +shouts, and the sharp rattle of Bess's hoofs; and thus he held his way, +while, in the words of the ballad, + + Fled past, on right and left, how fast, + Each forest, grove, and bower; + On right and left, fled past, how fast, + Each city, town, and tower. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI_ + +_BLACK BESS_ + + _Dauphin._ I will not change my horse with any that treads but on + four pasterns. _Ca, ha!_ He bounds from the earth as if his entrails + were hairs; _le cheval volant_, the Pegasus _qui a les narines de + feu_! When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; + the earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is + more musical than the pipe of Hermes. + + SHAKESPEARE: _Henry V., Act III._ + + +Black Bess being undoubtedly the heroine of the Fourth Book of this +Romance, we may, perhaps, be pardoned for expatiating a little in this +place upon her birth, parentage, breeding, appearance, and attractions. +And first as to her pedigree; for in the horse, unlike the human +species, nature has strongly impressed the noble or ignoble caste. He is +the real aristocrat, and the pure blood that flows in the veins of the +gallant steed will infallibly be transmitted, if his mate be suitable, +throughout all his line. Bess was no _cock-tail_. She was thorough-bred; +she boasted blood in every bright and branching vein: + + If blood can give nobility, + A noble steed was she; + Her sire was blood, and blood her dam, + And all her pedigree. + +As to her pedigree. Her sire was a desert Arab, renowned in his day, and +brought to this country by a wealthy traveller; her dam was an English +racer, coal-black as her child. Bess united all the fire and gentleness, +the strength and hardihood, the abstinence and endurance of fatigue of +the one, with the spirit and extraordinary fleetness of the other. How +Turpin became possessed of her is of little consequence. We never heard +that he paid a heavy price for her; though we doubt if any sum would +have induced him to part with her. In color, she was perfectly black, +with a skin smooth on the surface as polished jet; not a single white +hair could be detected in her satin coat. In make she was magnificent. +Every point was perfect, beautiful, compact; modelled, in little, for +strength and speed. Arched was her neck, as that of the swan; clean and +fine were her lower limbs, as those of the gazelle; round and sound as a +drum was her carcase, and as broad as a cloth-yard shaft her width of +chest. Hers were the "_pulchr clunes, breve caput, arduaque cervix_," +of the Roman bard. There was no redundancy of flesh, 'tis true; her +flanks might, to please some tastes, have been rounder, and her +shoulders fuller; but look at the nerve and sinew, palpable through the +veined limbs! She was built more for strength than beauty, and yet she +_was_ beautiful. Look at that elegant little head; those thin, tapering +ears, closely placed together; that broad, snorting nostril, which seems +to snuff the gale with disdain; that eye, glowing and large as the +diamond of Giamschid! Is she not beautiful? Behold her paces! how +gracefully she moves! She is off!--no eagle on the wing could skim the +air more swiftly. Is she not superb? As to her temper, the lamb is not +more gentle. A child might guide her. + +But hark back to Dick Turpin. We left him rattling along in superb +style, and in the highest possible glee. He could not, in fact, be +otherwise than exhilarated; nothing being so wildly intoxicating as a +mad gallop. We seem to start out of ourselves--to be endued, for the +time, with new energies. Our thoughts take wings rapid as our steed. We +feel as if his fleetness and boundless impulses were for the moment our +own. We laugh; we exult; we shout for very joy. We cry out with +Mephistopheles, but in anything but a sardonic mood, "What I enjoy with +spirit, is it the less my own on that account? If I can pay for six +horses, are not their powers mine! I drive along, and am a proper man, +as if I had four-and-twenty legs!" These were Turpin's sentiments +precisely. Give him four legs and a wide plain, and he needed no +Mephistopheles to bid him ride to perdition as fast as his nag could +carry him. Away, away!--the road is level, the path is clear. Press on, +thou gallant steed, no obstacle is in thy way!--and, lo! the moon breaks +forth! Her silvery light is thrown over the woody landscape. Dark +shadows are cast athwart the road, and the flying figures of thy rider +and thyself are traced, like giant phantoms, in the dust! + +Away, away! our breath is gone in keeping up with this tremendous run. +Yet Dick Turpin has not lost his wind, for we hear his cheering +cry--hark! he sings. The reader will bear in mind that Oliver means the +moon--to "whiddle" is to blab. + + OLIVER WHIDDLES! + + Oliver whiddles--the tattler old! + Telling what best had been left untold. + Oliver ne'er was a friend of mine; + All glims I hate that so brightly shine. + Give me a night black as hell, and then + See what I'll show to you, my merry men. + + Oliver whiddles!--who cares--who cares, + If down upon us he peers and stares? + Mind him who will, with his great white face, + Boldly _I'll_ ride by his glim to the chase; + Give him a Rowland, and loudly as ever + Shout, as I show myself, "Stand and deliver!" + +"Egad," soliloquized Dick, as he concluded his song, looking up at the +moon. "Old Noll's no bad fellow, either. I wouldn't be without his white +face to-night for a trifle. He's as good as a lamp to guide one, and let +Bess only hold on as she goes now, and I'll do it with ease. Softly, +wench, softly--dost not see it's a hill we're rising. The devil's in the +mare, she cares for nothing." And as they ascended the hill, Dick's +voice once more awoke the echoes of night. + + + WILL DAVIES AND DICK TURPIN + + Hodi mihi, crs tibi.--SAINT AUGUSTIN. + + One night, when mounted on my mare, + To Bagshot Heath I did repair, + And saw Will Davies hanging there, + Upon the gibbet bleak and bare, + _With a rustified, fustified, mustified air!_ + + Within his chains bold Will looked blue, + Gone were his sword and snappers too, + Which served their master well and true; + Says I, "Will Davies, how are you? + _With your rustified, fustified, mustified air!_" + + Says he, "Dick Turpin, here I be, + Upon the gibbet, as you see; + I take the matter easily; + _You'll_ have your turn as well as me, + _With your whistle-me, pistol-me, cut-my-throat air!_" + + Says I, "That's very true, my lad; + Meantime, with pistol and with prad, + I'm quite contented as I am, + And heed the gibbet not a d--n! + _With its rustified, fustified, mustified air!_" + +"Poor Will Davies!" sighed Dick; "Bagshot ought never to forget +him."[110] + + For never more shall Bagshot see + A highwayman of such degree, + Appearance, and gentility, + As Will, who hangs upon the tree, + _With his rustified, fustified, mustified air!_ + +"Well," mused Turpin, "I suppose one day it will be with me like all the +rest of 'em, and that I shall dance a long lavolta to the music of the +four whistling winds, as my betters have done before me; but I trust, +whenever the chanter-culls and last-speech scribblers get hold of me, +they'll at least put no cursed nonsense into my mouth, but make me +speak, as I have ever felt, like a man who never either feared death, or +turned his back upon his friend. In the mean time I'll give them +something to talk about. This ride of mine shall ring in their ears long +after I'm done for--put to bed with a mattock, and tucked up with a +spade. + + And when I am gone, boys, each huntsman shall say, + None rode like Dick Turpin, so far in a day. + +And thou, too, brave Bess!--thy name shall be linked with mine, and +we'll go down to posterity together; and what," added he, despondingly, +"if it should be too much for thee? what if----but no matter! Better die +now, while I am with thee, than fall into the knacker's hands. Better +die with all thy honors upon thy head, than drag out thy old age at the +sand-cart. Hark forward, lass--hark forward!" + +By what peculiar instinct is it that this noble animal, the horse, will +at once perceive the slightest change in his rider's physical +temperament, and allow himself so to be influenced by it, that, +according as his master's spirits fluctuate, will his own energies rise +and fall, wavering + + From walk to trot, from canter to full speed? + +How is it, we ask of those more intimately acquainted with the +metaphysics of the Houyhnhnm than we pretend to be? Do the saddle or +the rein convey, like metallic tractors, vibrations of the spirit +betwixt the two? We know not, but this much is certain, that no servant +partakes so much of the character of his master as the horse. The steed +we are wont to ride becomes a portion of ourselves. He thinks and feels +with us. As we are lively, he is sprightly; as we are depressed, his +courage droops. In proof of this, let the reader see what horses some +men make--_make_, we say, because in such hands their character is +wholly altered. Partaking, in a measure, of the courage and the firmness +of the hand that guides them, and of the resolution of the frame that +sways them--what their rider wills, they do, or strive to do. When that +governing power is relaxed, their energies are relaxed likewise; and +their fine sensibilities supply them with an instant knowledge of the +disposition and capacity of the rider. A gift of the gods is the gallant +steed, which, like any other faculty we possess, to use or to abuse--to +command or to neglect--rests with ourselves; he is the best general test +of our own self-government. + +Black Bess's action amply verified what we have just asserted; for +during Turpin's momentary despondency, her pace was perceptibly +diminished and her force retarded; but as he revived, she rallied +instantly, and, seized apparently with a kindred enthusiasm, snorted +joyously as she recovered her speed. Now was it that the child of the +desert showed herself the undoubted offspring of the hardy loins from +whence she sprung. Full fifty miles had she sped, yet she showed no +symptoms of distress. If possible, she appeared fresher than when she +started. She had breathed; her limbs were suppler; her action was freer, +easier, lighter. Her sire, who, upon his trackless wilds, could have +outstripped the pestilent simoom; and with throat unslaked, and hunger +unappeased, could thrice have seen the scorching sun go down, had not +greater powers of endurance. His vigor was her heritage. Her dam, who +upon the velvet sod was of almost unapproachable swiftness, and who had +often brought her owner golden assurances of her worth, could scarce +have kept pace with her, and would have sunk under a third of her +fatigue. But Bess was a paragon. We ne'er shall look upon her like +again, unless we can prevail upon some Bedouin chief to present us with +a brood mare, and then the racing world shall see what a breed we will +introduce into this country. Eclipse, Childers, or Hambletonian, shall +be nothing to our colts, and even the railroad slow travelling, compared +with the speed of our new nags! + +But to return to Bess, or rather to go along with her, for there is no +halting now; we are going at the rate of twenty knots an hour--sailing +before the wind; and the reader must either keep pace with us, or drop +astern. Bess is now in her speed, and Dick happy. Happy! he is +enraptured--maddened--furious--intoxicated as with wine. Pshaw! wine +could never throw him into such a burning delirium. Its choicest juices +have no inspiration like this. Its fumes are slow and heady. This is +ethereal, transporting. His blood spins through his veins; winds round +his heart; mounts to his brain. Away! away! He is wild with joy. Hall, +cot, tree, tower, glade, mead, waste, or woodland, are seen, passed, +left behind, and vanish as in a dream. Motion is scarcely +perceptible--it is impetus! volition! The horse and her rider are driven +forward, as it were, by self-accelerated speed. A hamlet is visible in +the moonlight. It is scarcely discovered ere the flints sparkle beneath +the mare's hoofs. A moment's clatter upon the stones, and it is left +behind. Again it is the silent, smiling country. Now they are buried in +the darkness of woods; now sweeping along on the wide plain; now +clearing the unopened toll-bar; now trampling over the hollow-sounding +bridge, their shadows momently reflected in the placid mirror of the +stream; now scaling the hill-side a thought more slowly; now plunging, +as the horses of Ph[oe]bus into the ocean, down its precipitous sides. + +The limits of two shires are already past. They are within the confines +of a third. They have entered the merry county of Huntingdon; they have +surmounted the gentle hill that slips into Godmanchester. They are by +the banks of the rapid Ouse. The bridge is past; and as Turpin rode +through the deserted streets of Huntingdon, he heard the eleventh hour +given from the iron tongue of St. Mary's spire. In four hours--it was +about seven when he started--Dick had accomplished full sixty miles! + +A few reeling topers in the streets saw the horseman flit past, and one +or two windows were thrown open; but Peeping Tom of Coventry would have +had small chance of beholding the unveiled beauties of Queen Godiva had +she ridden at the rate of Dick Turpin. He was gone, like a meteor, +almost as soon as he appeared. + +Huntingdon is left behind, and he is once more surrounded by dew-gemmed +hedges and silent slumbering trees. Broad meadows, or pasture land, with +drowsy cattle, or low bleating sheep, lie on either side. But what to +Turpin, at that moment, is nature, animate or inanimate? He thinks only +of his mare--his future fame. None are by to see him ride; no +stimulating plaudits ring in his ears; no thousand hands are clapping; +no thousand voices huzzaing; no handkerchiefs are waved; no necks +strained; no bright eyes rain influence upon him; no eagle orbs watch +his motions; no bells are rung; no cup awaits his achievement; no +sweepstakes--no plate. But his will be renown--everlasting renown; his +will be fame which will not die with him--which will keep his +reputation, albeit a tarnished one, still in the mouths of men. He wants +all these adventitious excitements, but he has that within which is a +greater excitement than all these. He is conscious that he is doing a +deed to live by. If not riding for _life_, he is riding for +_immortality_; and as the hero may perchance feel--for even a highwayman +may feel like a hero,--when he willingly throws away his existence in +the hope of earning a glorious name, Turpin cared not what might befall +himself, so he could proudly signalize himself as the first of his land, + + _And witch the world with noble horsemanship!_ + +What need had he of spectators? The eye of posterity was upon him; he +felt the influence of that Argus glance which has made many a poor wight +spur on his Pegasus with not half so good a chance of reaching the goal +as Dick Turpin. Multitudes, yet unborn, he knew would hear and laud his +deeds. He trembled with excitement, and Bess trembled under him. But the +emotion was transient. On, on they fly! The torrent leaping from the +crag--the bolt from the bow--the air-cleaving eagle--thoughts themselves +are scarce more winged in their flight! + + + + +_CHAPTER VII_ + +_THE YORK STAGE_ + + YORK, FOUR DAYS!--_Stage Coach begins on Friday, the 18th of April, + 1706._ All that are desirous to pass from London to York, or from + York to London, or any other place on that road, let them repair to + the Black Swan, in Holborn, in London, or to the Black Swan, in + Coney Street, in York. At both which places they may be received in + a _Stage Coach_, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, which performs + the journey in four days--if God permits!--and sets forth at five in + the morning. And returns from York to Stamford in two days, and from + Stamford, by Huntingdon, in two days more. And the like stages in + their return. Allowing each passenger fourteen pounds' weight, and + all above, three pence per pound. Performed by Benjamin Kingman, + Henry Harrison, and Waller Baynes.--_Placard, preserved in the + coffee-room, of the Black Swan Inn at York._ + + +The night had hitherto been balmy and beautiful, with a bright array of +stars, and a golden harvest moon, which seemed to diffuse even warmth +with its radiance; but now Turpin was approaching the region of fog and +fen, and he began to feel the influence of that dank atmosphere. The +intersecting dykes, yawners, gullies, or whatever they are called, began +to send forth their steaming vapors, and chilled the soft and wholesome +air, obscuring the void, and in some instances, as it were, choking up +the road itself with vapor. But fog or fen was the same to Bess; her +hoofs rattled merrily along the road, and she burst from a cloud, like +Eus at the break of dawn. + +It chanced, as he issued from a fog of this kind, that Turpin burst upon +the York stage coach. It was no uncommon thing for the coach to be +stopped; and so furious was the career of our highwayman, that the man +involuntarily drew up his horses. Turpin had also to draw in the rein, a +task of no little difficulty, as charging a huge, lumbering coach, with +its full complement of passengers, was more than even Bess could +accomplish. The moon shone brightly on Turpin and his mare. He was +unmasked, and his features were distinctly visible. An exclamation was +uttered by a gentleman on the box, who, it appeared, instantly +recognized him. + +"Pull up--draw your horses across the road!" cried the gentleman; +"that's Dick Turpin, the highwayman. His capture would be worth three +hundred pounds to you," added he, addressing the coachman, "and is of +equal importance to me. Stand!" shouted he, presenting a cocked pistol. + +This resolution of the gentleman was not apparently agreeable, either to +the coachman or the majority of the passengers--the name of Turpin +acting like magic upon them. One man jumped off behind, and was with +difficulty afterwards recovered, having tumbled into a deep ditch at the +roadside. An old gentleman with a cotton nightcap, who had popped out +his head to swear at the coachman, drew it suddenly back. A faint scream +in a female key issued from within, and there was a considerable hubbub +on the roof. Amongst other ominous sounds, the guard was heard to click +his long horse-pistols. "Stop the York four-day stage!" said he, forcing +his smoky voice through a world of throat-embracing shawl; "the fastest +coach in the kingdom: vos ever such atrocity heard of? I say, Joe, keep +them ere leaders steady; we shall all be in the ditch. Don't you see +where the hind wheels are? Who--whoop, I say." + +The gentleman on the box now discharged his pistol, and the confusion +within was redoubled. The white nightcap was popped out like a rabbit's +head, and as quickly popped back on hearing the highwayman's voice. +Owing to the plunging of the horses, the gentleman had missed his aim. + +Prepared for such emergencies as the present, and seldom at any time +taken aback, Dick received the fire without flinching. He then lashed +the horses out of his course, and rode up, pistol in hand, to the +gentleman who had fired. + +"Major Mowbray," said he, in a stern tone, "I know you. I meant not +either to assault you or these gentlemen. Yet you have attempted my +life, sir, a second time. But you are now in my power, and by hell! if +you do not answer the questions I put to you, nothing earthly shall save +you." + +"If you ask aught I may not answer, fire!" said the major; "I will never +ask life from such as you." + +"Have you seen aught of Sir Luke Rookwood?" asked Dick. + +"The villain you mean is not yet secured," replied the major, "but we +have traces of him. 'Tis with a view of procuring more efficient +assistance that I ride to town." + +"They have not met then, since?" said Dick, carelessly. + +"Met! whom do you mean?" + +"Your sister and Sir Luke," said Dick. + +"My sister meet him!" cried the major, angrily--"think you he dares show +himself at Rookwood?" + +"Ho! ho!" laughed Dick--"she _is_ at Rookwood, then? A thousand thanks, +major. Good night to you, gentlemen." + +"Take that with you, and remember the guard," cried the fellow, who, +unable to take aim from where he sat, had crept along the coach roof, +and discharged thence one of his large horse-pistols at what he took to +be the highwayman's head, but which, luckily for Dick, was his hat, +which he had raised to salute the passengers. + +"Remember you," said Dick, coolly replacing his perforated beaver on his +brow; "you may rely upon it, my fine fellow, I'll not forget you the +next time we meet." + +And off he went like the breath of the whirlwind. + + + + +_CHAPTER VIII_ + +_ROADSIDE INN_ + + _Moor._ Take my horse, and dash a bottle of wine over him. 'Twas hot + work. + + SCHILLER: _The Robbers_. + + +We will now make inquiries after Mr. Coates and his party, of whom both +we and Dick Turpin have for some time lost sight. With unabated ardor +the vindictive man of law and his myrmidons pressed forward. A tacit +compact seemed to have been entered into between the highwayman and his +pursuers, that he was to fly while they were to follow. Like +bloodhounds, they kept steadily upon his trail; nor were they so far +behind as Dick imagined. At each post-house they passed they obtained +fresh horses, and, while these were saddling, a postboy was despatched +_en courrier_ to order relays at the next station. In this manner they +proceeded after the first stoppage without interruption. Horses were in +waiting for them, as they, "bloody with spurring, fiery hot with haste," +and their jaded hacks arrived. Turpin had been heard or seen in all +quarters. Turnpike-men, waggoners, carters, trampers, all had seen him. +Besides, strange as it may sound, they placed some faith in his word. +York they believed would be his destination. + +At length the coach which Dick had encountered hove in sight. There was +another stoppage and another hubbub. The old gentleman's nightcap was +again manifested, and suffered a sudden occultation, as upon the former +occasion. The postboy, who was in advance, had halted, and given up his +horse to Major Mowbray, who exchanged his seat on the box for one on the +saddle, deeming it more expedient, after his interview with Turpin, to +return to Rookwood, rather than to proceed to town. The postboy was +placed behind Coates, as being the lightest weight; and, thus +reinforced, the party pushed forward as rapidly as heretofore. + +Eighty and odd miles had now been traversed--the boundary of another +county, Northampton, passed; yet no rest nor respite had Dick Turpin or +his unflinching mare enjoyed. But here he deemed it fitting to make a +brief halt. + +Bordering the beautiful domains of Burleigh House stood a little retired +hostelry of some antiquity, which bore the great Lord Treasurer's arms. +With this house Dick was not altogether unacquainted. The lad who acted +as ostler was known to him. It was now midnight, but a bright and +beaming night. To the door of the stable then did he ride, and knocked +in a peculiar manner. Reconnoitering Dick through a broken pane of glass +in the lintel, and apparently satisfied with his scrutiny, the lad +thrust forth a head of hair as full of straw as Mad Tom's is represented +to be upon the stage. A chuckle of welcome followed his sleepy +salutation. "Glad to see you, Captain Turpin," said he; "can I do +anything for you?" + +"Get me a couple of bottles of brandy and a beefsteak," said Dick. + +"As to the brandy, you can have that in a jiffy--but the steak, Lord +love you, the old ooman won't stand it at this time; but there's a cold +round, mayhap a slice of that might do--or a knuckle of ham?" + +"A pest on your knuckles, Ralph," cried Dick; "have you any raw meat in +the house?" + +"Raw meat!" echoed Ralph, in surprise. "Oh, yes, there's a rare rump of +beef. You can have a cut off that, if you like." + +"That's the thing I want," said Dick, ungirthing his mare. "Give me the +scraper. There, I can get a whisp of straw from your head. Now run and +get the brandy. Better bring three bottles. Uncork 'em, and let me have +half a pail of water to mix with the spirit." + +"A pail full of brandy and water to wash down a raw steak! My eyes!" +exclaimed Ralph, opening wide his sleepy peepers; adding, as he went +about the execution of his task, "I always thought them Rum-padders, as +they call themselves, rum fellows, but now I'm sartin sure on it." + +The most sedulous groom could not have bestowed more attention upon the +horse of his heart than Dick Turpin now paid to his mare. He scraped, +chafed, and dried her, sounded each muscle, traced each sinew, pulled +her ears, examined the state of her feet, and, ascertaining that her +"withers were un-wrung," finally washed her from head to foot in the +diluted spirit, not, however, before he had conveyed a thimbleful of the +liquid to his own parched throat, and replenished what Falstaff calls a +"pocket-pistol," which he had about him. While Ralph was engaged in +rubbing her down after her bath, Dick occupied himself, not in dressing +the raw steak in the manner the stable-boy had anticipated, but in +rolling it round the bit of his bridle. + +"She will now go as long as there's breath in her body," said he, +putting the flesh-covered iron within her mouth. + +The saddle being once more replaced, after champing a moment or two at +the bit, Bess began to snort and paw the earth, as if impatient of +delay; and, acquainted as he was with her indomitable spirit and power, +her condition was a surprise even to Dick himself. Her vigor seemed +inexhaustible, her vivacity was not a whit diminished, but, as she was +led into the open space, her step became as light and free as when she +started on her ride, and her sense of sound as quick as ever. Suddenly +she pricked her ears, and uttered a low neigh. A dull tramp was +audible. + +"Ha!" exclaimed Dick, springing into his saddle; "they come." + +"Who come, captain?" asked Ralph. + +"The road takes a turn here, don't it?" asked Dick--"sweeps round to the +right by the plantations in the hollow?" + +"Ay, ay, captain," answered Ralph; "it's plain you knows the ground." + +"What lies behind yon shed?" + +"A stiff fence, captain--a reg'lar rasper. Beyond that a hill-side steep +as a house, no oss as was ever shoed can go down it." + +"Indeed!" laughed Dick. + +A loud halloo from Major Mowbray, who seemed advancing upon the wings of +the wind, told Dick that he was discovered. The major was a superb +horseman, and took the lead of his party. Striking his spurs deeply into +his horse, and giving him bridle enough, the major seemed to shoot +forward like a shell through the air. The Burleigh Arms retired some +hundred yards from the road, the space in front being occupied by a neat +garden, with low, clipped edges. No tall timber intervened between Dick +and his pursuers, so that the motions of both parties were visible to +each other. Dick saw in an instant that if he now started he should come +into collision with the major exactly at the angle of the road, and he +was by no means desirous of hazarding such a rencontre. He looked +wistfully back at the double fence. + +"Come into the stable. Quick, captain, quick!" exclaimed Ralph. + +"The stable!" echoed Dick, hesitating. + +"Ay, the stable; it's your only chance. Don't you see he's turning the +corner, and they are all coming? Quick, sir, quick!" + +Dick, lowering his head, rode into the tenement, the door of which was +unceremoniously slapped in the major's face, and bolted on the other +side. + +"Villain!" cried Major Mowbray, thundering at the door, "come forth! You +are now fairly trapped at last--caught like the woodcock in your own +springe. We have you. Open the door, I say, and save us the trouble of +forcing it. You cannot escape us. We will burn the building down but we +will have you." + +"What dun you want, measter?" cried Ralph, from the lintel, whence he +reconnoitered the major, and kept the door fast. "You're clean mista'en. +There be none here." + +"We'll soon see that," said Paterson, who had now arrived; and, leaping +from his horse, the chief constable took a short run to give himself +impetus, and with his foot burst open the door. This being accomplished, +in dashed the major and Paterson, but the stable was vacant. A door was +open at the back; they rushed to it. The sharply sloping sides of a hill +slipped abruptly downwards, within a yard of the door. It was a perilous +descent to the horseman, yet the print of a horse's heels were visible +in the dislodged turf and scattered soil. + +"Confusion!" cried the major, "he has escaped us." + +"He is yonder," said Paterson, pointing out Turpin moving swiftly +through the steaming meadow. "See, he makes again for the road--he +clears the fence. A regular throw he has given us, by the Lord!" + +"Nobly done, by Heaven!" cried the major. "With all his faults, I honor +the fellow's courage and admire his prowess. He's already ridden +to-night as I believe never man rode before. I would not have ventured +to slide down that wall, for it's nothing else, with the enemy at my +heels. What say you, gentlemen, have you had enough? Shall we let him +go, or----?" + +"As far as chase goes, I don't care if we bring the matter to a +conclusion," said Titus. "I don't think, as it is, that I shall have a +sate to sit on this week to come. I've lost leather most confoundedly." + +"What says Mr. Coates?" asked Paterson. "I look to him." + +"Then mount, and off," cried Coates. "Public duty requires that we +should take him." + +"And private pique," returned the major. "No matter! The end is the +same. Justice shall be satisfied. To your steeds, my merry men all. +Hark, and away." + +Once more upon the move, Titus forgot his distress, and addressed +himself to the attorney, by whose side he rode. + +"What place is that we're coming to?" asked he, pointing to a cluster of +moonlit spires belonging to a town they were rapidly approaching. + +"Stamford," replied Coates. + +"Stamford!" exclaimed Titus; "by the powers! then we've ridden a matter +of ninety miles. Why, the great deeds of Redmond O'Hanlon were nothing +to this! I'll remember it to my dying day, and with reason," added he, +uneasily shifting his position on the saddle. + + + + +_CHAPTER IX_ + +_EXCITEMENT_ + + How fled what moonshine faintly showed! + How fled what darkness hid! + How fled the earth beneath their feet, + The heaven above their head. + + _William and Helen._ + + +Dick Turpin, meanwhile, held bravely on his course. Bess was neither +strained by her gliding passage down the slippery hill-side nor shaken +by _larking_ the fence in the meadow. As Dick said, "It took a devilish +deal to take it out of her." On regaining the high road she resumed her +old pace, and once more they were distancing Time's swift chariot in +its whirling passage o'er the earth. Stamford, and the tongue of +Lincoln's fenny shire, upon which it is situated, were passed almost in +a breath. Rutland is won and passed, and Lincolnshire once more entered. +The road now verged within a bowshot of that sporting Athens--Corinth, +perhaps, we should say--Melton Mowbray. Melton was then unknown to fame, +but, as if inspired by that _furor venaticus_ which now inspires all who +come within twenty miles of this Charybdis of the chase, Bess here _let +out_ in a style with which it would have puzzled the best Leicestershire +squire's best prad to have kept pace. The spirit she imbibed through the +pores of her skin, and the juices of the meat she had champed, seemed to +have communicated preternatural excitement to her. Her pace was +absolutely terrific. Her eyeballs were dilated, and glowed like flaming +carbuncles; while her widely-distended nostril seemed, in the cold +moonshine, to snort forth smoke, as from a hidden fire. Fain would +Turpin have controlled her; but, without bringing into play all his +tremendous nerve, no check could be given her headlong course, and for +once, and the only time in her submissive career, Bess resolved to have +her own way--and she had it. Like a sensible fellow, Dick conceded the +point. There was something even of conjugal philosophy in his +self-communion upon the occasion. "E'en let her take her own way and be +hanged to her, for an obstinate, self-willed jade as she is," said he: +"now her back is up there'll be no stopping her, I'm sure: she rattles +away like a woman's tongue, and when that once begins, we all know what +chance the curb has. Best to let her have it out, or rather to lend her +a lift. 'Twill be over the sooner. Tantivy, lass! tantivy! I know which +of us will tire first." + +We have before said that the vehement excitement of continued swift +riding produces a paroxysm in the sensorium amounting to delirium. +Dick's blood was again on fire. He was first giddy, as after a deep +draught of kindling spirit; this passed off, but the spirit was still +in his veins--the _estro_ was working in his brain. All his ardor, his +eagerness, his fury, returned. He rode like one insane, and his courser +partook of his frenzy. She bounded; she leaped; she tore up the ground +beneath her; while Dick gave vent to his exultation in one wild, +prolonged halloo. More than half his race is run. He has triumphed over +every difficulty. He will have no further occasion to halt. Bess carries +her forage along with her. The course is straightforward--success seems +certain--the goal already reached--the path of glory won. Another wild +halloo, to which the echoing woods reply, and away! + +Away! away! thou matchless steed! yet brace fast thy sinews--hold, hold +thy breath, for, alas! the goal is not yet attained! + + But forward! forward, on they go, + High snorts the straining steed, + Thick pants the rider's laboring breath, + As headlong on they speed! + + + + +_CHAPTER X_ + +_THE GIBBET_ + + See there, see there, what yonder swings + And creaks 'mid whistling rain, + Gibbet and steel--the accursed wheel-- + A murderer in his chain. + + _William and Helen._ + + +As the eddying currents sweep over its plains in howling, bleak +December, the horse and her rider passed over what remained of +Lincolnshire. Grantham is gone, and they are now more slowly looking up +the ascent of Gonerby Hill, a path well known to Turpin; where often, in +bygone nights, many a purse had changed its owner. With that feeling of +independence and exhilaration which every one feels, we believe, on +having climbed the hill-side, Turpin turned to gaze around. There was +triumph in his eye. But the triumph was checked as his glance fell upon +a gibbet near him to the right, on the round point of hill which is a +landmark to the wide vale of Belvoir. Pressed as he was for time, Dick +immediately struck out of the road, and approached the spot where it +stood. Two scarecrow objects, covered with rags and rusty links of +chains, depended from the tree. A night crow screaming around the +carcases added to the hideous effect of the scene. Nothing but the +living highwayman and his skeleton brethren was visible upon the +solitary spot. Around him was the lonesome waste of hill, o'erlooking +the moonlit valley: beneath his feet, a patch of bare and +lightning-blasted sod: above, the wan, declining moon and skies, flaked +with ghostly clouds; before him, the bleached bodies of the murderers, +for such they were. + +"Will this be my lot, I marvel?" said Dick, looking upwards, with an +involuntary shudder. + +"Ay, marry will it," rejoined a crouching figure, suddenly springing +from beside a tuft of briars that skirted the blasted ground. + +Dick started in his saddle, while Bess reared and plunged at the sight +of this unexpected apparition. + +"What, ho! thou devil's dam, Barbara, is it thou?" exclaimed Dick, +reassured upon discovering it was the gipsy queen, and no spectre whom +he beheld. "Stand still, Bess--stand, lass. What dost thou here, mother +of darkness? Art gathering mandrakes for thy poisonous messes, or +pilfering flesh from the dead? Meddle not with their bones, or I will +drive thee hence. What dost thou here, I say, old dam of the gibbet?" + +"I came to die here," replied Barbara, in a feeble tone; and, throwing +back her hood, she displayed features well-nigh as ghastly as those of +the skeletons above her. + +"Indeed," replied Dick. "You've made choice of a pleasant spot, it must +be owned. But you'll not die yet?" + +"Do you know whose bodies these are?" asked Barbara, pointing upwards. + +"Two of your race," replied Dick; "right brethren of the blade." + +"Two of my sons," returned Barbara; "my twin children. I am come to lay +my bones beneath their bones--my sepulchre shall be their sepulchre; my +body shall feed the fowls of the air as theirs have fed them. And if +ghosts can walk, we'll scour this heath together. I tell you what, Dick +Turpin," said the hag, drawing as near to the highwayman as Bess would +permit her; "dead men walk and ride--ay, _ride_!--there's a comfort for +you. I've seen these do it. I have seen them fling off their chains, and +dance--ay, dance with me--with their mother. No revels like dead men's +revels, Dick. I shall soon join 'em." + +"You will not lay violent hands upon yourself, mother?" said Dick, with +difficulty mastering his terror. + +"No," replied Barbara, in an altered tone. "But I will let nature do her +task. Would she could do it more quickly. Such a life as mine won't go +out without a long struggle. What have I to live for now? All are +gone--she and her child! But what is this to you? You have no child; and +if you had, you could not feel like a father. No matter--I rave. Listen +to me. I have crawled hither to die. 'Tis five days since I beheld you, +and during that time food has not passed these lips, nor aught of +moisture, save Heaven's dew, cooled this parched throat, nor shall they +to the last. That time cannot be far off; and now can you not guess +_how_ I mean to die? Begone and leave me; your presence troubles me. I +would breathe my last breath alone, with none to witness the parting +pang." + +"I will not trouble you longer, mother," said Dick, turning his mare; +"nor will I ask your blessing." + +"My blessing!" scornfully ejaculated Barbara. "You shall have it if you +will, but you will find it a curse. Stay! a thought strikes me. Whither +are you going?" + +"To seek Sir Luke Rookwood," replied Dick. "Know you aught of him?" + +"Sir Luke Rookwood! You seek him, and would find him?" screamed Barbara. + +"I would," said Dick. + +"And you _will_ find him," said Barbara; "and that ere long. I shall +ne'er again behold him. Would I could. I have a message for him--one of +life and death. Will you convey it to him?" + +"I will," said the highwayman. + +"Swear by those bones to do so," cried Barbara, pointing with her skinny +fingers to the gibbet; "that you will do my bidding." + +"I swear," cried Dick. + +"Fail not, or _we_ will haunt thee to thy life's end," cried Barbara; +adding, as she handed a sealed package to the highwayman, "Give this to +Sir Luke--to him alone. I would have sent it to him by other hands ere +this, but my people have deserted me--have pillaged my stores--have +rifled me of all save this. Give this, I say, to Sir Luke, with your own +hands. You have sworn it, and will obey. Give it to him, and bid him +think of Sybil as he opens it. But this must not be till Eleanor is in +his power; and she must be present when the seal is broken. It relates +to both. Dare not to tamper with it, or my curse shall pursue you. That +packet is guarded with a triple spell, which to you were fatal. Obey me, +and my dying breath shall bless thee." + +"Never fear," said Dick, taking the packet; "I'll not disappoint you, +mother, depend upon it." + +"Hence!" cried the crone; and as she watched Dick's figure lessening +upon the Waste, and at length beheld him finally disappear down the +hill-side, she sank to the ground, her frail strength being entirely +exhausted. "Body and soul may now part in peace," gasped she. "All I +live for is accomplished." And ere one hour had elapsed, the night crow +was perched upon her still breathing frame. + +Long pondering upon this singular interview, Dick pursued his way. At +length he thought fit to examine the packet with which the old gipsy had +entrusted him. + +"It feels like a casket," thought he. "It can't be gold. But then it may +be jewels, though they don't rattle, and it ain't quite heavy enough. +What can it be? I should like to know. There is some mystery, that's +certain, about it; but I will not break the seal, not I. As to her +spell, that I don't value a rush; but I've sworn to give it to Sir Luke, +and deliver her message, and I'll keep my word if I can. He shall have +it." So saying, he replaced it in his pocket. + + + + +_CHAPTER XI_ + +_THE PHANTOM STEED_ + + I'll speak to thee, though hell itself should gape, + And bid me hold my peace. + + _Hamlet._ + + +Time presses. We may not linger in our course. We must fly on before our +flying highwayman. Full forty miles shall we pass over in a breath. Two +more hours have elapsed, and he still urges his headlong career, with +heart resolute as ever, and purpose yet unchanged. Fair Newark, and the +dashing Trent, "most loved of England's streams," are gathered to his +laurels. Broad Notts, and its heavy paths and sweeping glades; its +waste--forest no more--of Sherwood past; bold Robin Hood and his merry +men, his Marian and his moonlight rides, recalled, forgotten, left +behind. Hurrah! hurrah! That wild halloo, that waving arm, that +enlivening shout--what means it? He is once more upon Yorkshire ground; +his horse's hoof beats once more the soil of that noble shire. So +transported was Dick, that he could almost have flung himself from the +saddle to kiss the dust beneath his feet. Thrice fifty miles has he run, +nor has the morn yet dawned upon his labors. Hurrah! the end draws nigh; +the goal is in view. Halloo! halloo! on! + +Bawtrey is past. He takes the lower road by Thorne and Selby. He is +skirting the waters of the deep-channelled Don. + +Bess now began to manifest some slight symptoms of distress. There was a +strain in the carriage of her throat, a dulness in her eye, a laxity in +her ear, and a slight stagger in her gait, which Turpin noticed with +apprehension. Still she went on, though not at the same gallant pace as +heretofore. But, as the tired bird still battles with the blast upon the +ocean, as the swimmer still stems the stream, though spent, on went she: +nor did Turpin dare to check her, fearing that, if she stopped, she +might lose her force, or, if she fell, she would rise no more. + +It was now that gray and grimly hour ere one flicker of orange or rose +has gemmed the east, and when unwearying Nature herself seems to snatch +brief repose. In the roar of restless cities, this is the only time when +their strife is hushed. Midnight is awake--alive; the streets ring with +laughter and with rattling wheels. At the third hour, a dead, deep +silence prevails; the loud-voiced streets grow dumb. They are deserted +of all, save the few guardians of the night and the skulking robber. But +even far removed from the haunts of men and hum of towns it is the same. +"Nature's best nurse" seems to weigh nature down, and stillness reigns +throughout. Our feelings are, in a great measure, influenced by the +hour. Exposed to the raw, crude atmosphere, which has neither the +nipping, wholesome shrewdness of morn, nor the profound chillness of +night, the frame vainly struggles against the dull, miserable sensations +engendered by the damps, and at once communicates them to the spirits. +Hope forsakes us. We are weary, exhausted. Our energy is dispirited. +Sleep does "not weigh our eyelids down." We stare upon the vacancy. We +conjure up a thousand restless, disheartening images. We abandon +projects we have formed, and which, viewed through this medium, appear +fantastical, chimerical, absurd. We want rest, refreshment, energy. + +We will not say that Turpin had all these misgivings. But he had to +struggle hard with himself to set sleep and exhaustion at defiance. + +The moon had set. The stars, + + Pinnacled deep in the intense main, + +had all--save one, the herald of the dawn--withdrawn their luster. A +dull mist lay on the stream, and the air became piercing cold. Turpin's +chilled fingers could scarcely grasp the slackening rein, while his +eyes, irritated by the keen atmosphere, hardly enabled him to +distinguish surrounding objects, or even to guide his steed. It was +owing, probably, to this latter circumstance, that Bess suddenly +floundered and fell, throwing her master over her head. + +Turpin instantly recovered himself. His first thought was for his horse. +But Bess was instantly upon her legs--covered with dust and foam, sides +and cheeks--and with her large eyes glaring wildly, almost piteously, +upon her master. + +"Art hurt, lass?" asked Dick, as she shook herself, and slightly +shivered. And he proceeded to the horseman's scrutiny. "Nothing but a +shake; though that dull eye--those quivering flanks----" added he, +looking earnestly at her. "She won't go much further, and I must give it +up--what! give up the race just when it's won? No, that can't be. Ha! +well thought on. I've a bottle of liquid, given me by an old fellow, who +was a knowing cove and famous jockey in his day, which he swore would +make a horse go as long as he'd a leg to carry him, and bade me keep it +for some great occasion. I've never used it; but I'll try it now. It +should be in this pocket. Ah! Bess, wench, I fear I'm using thee, after +all, as Sir Luke did his mistress, that I thought so like thee. No +matter! It will be a glorious end." + +Raising her head upon his shoulder, Dick poured the contents of the +bottle down the throat of his mare. Nor had he to wait long before its +invigorating effects were instantaneous. The fire was kindled in the +glassy orb; her crest was once more erected; her flank ceased to quiver; +and she neighed loud and joyously. + +"Egad, the old fellow was right," cried Dick. "The drink has worked +wonders. What the devil could it have been? It smells like spirit," +added he, examining the bottle. "I wish I'd left a taste for myself. But +here's that will do as well." And he drained his flask of the last drop +of brandy. + +Dick's limbs were now become so excessively stiff, that it was with +difficulty he could remount his horse. But this necessary preliminary +being achieved by the help of a stile, he found no difficulty in +resuming his accustomed position upon the saddle. We know not whether +there was any likeness between our Turpin and that modern Hercules of +the sporting world, Mr. Osbaldeston. Far be it from us to institute any +comparison, though we cannot help thinking that, in one particular, he +resembled that famous "copper-bottomed" squire. This we will leave to +our reader's discrimination. Dick bore his fatigues wonderfully. He +suffered somewhat of that martyrdom which, according to Tom Moore, +occurs "to weavers and M. P.'s, from sitting too long;" but again on his +courser's back, he cared not for anything. + +Once more, at a gallant pace, he traversed the banks of the Don, +skirting the fields of flax that bound its sides, and hurried far more +swiftly than its current to its confluence with the Aire. + +Snaith was past. He was on the road to Selby when dawn first began to +break. Here and there a twitter was heard in the hedge; a hare ran +across his path, gray-looking as the morning self; and the mists began +to rise from the earth. A bar of gold was drawn against the east, like +the roof of a gorgeous palace. But the mists were heavy in this world of +rivers and their tributary streams. The Ouse was before him, the Trent +and Aire behind; the Don and Derwent on either hand, all in their way to +commingle their currents ere they formed the giant Humber. Amid a region +so prodigal of water, no wonder the dews fell thick as rain. Here and +there the ground was clear; but then again came a volley of vapor, dim +and palpable as smoke. + +While involved in one of these fogs, Turpin became aware of another +horseman by his side. It was impossible to discern the features of the +rider, but his figure in the mist seemed gigantic; neither was the color +of his steed distinguishable. Nothing was visible except the +meagre-looking, phantom-like outline of a horse and his rider, and, as +the unknown rode upon the turf that edged the way, even the sound of the +horse's hoofs was scarcely audible. Turpin gazed, not without +superstitious awe. Once or twice he essayed to address the strange +horseman, but his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. He fancied he +discovered in the mist-exaggerated lineaments of the stranger a wild and +fantastic resemblance to his friend Tom King. "It must be Tom," thought +Turpin; "he is come to warn me of my approaching end. I will speak to +him." + +But terror o'ermastered his speech. He could not force out a word, and +thus side by side they rode in silence. Quaking with fears he would +scarcely acknowledge to himself, Dick watched every motion of his +companion. He was still, stern, spectre-like, erect; and looked for all +the world like a demon on his phantom steed. His courser seemed, in the +indistinct outline, to be huge and bony, and, as he snorted furiously +in the fog, Dick's heated imagination supplied his breath with a due +proportion of flame. Not a word was spoken--not a sound heard, save the +sullen dead beat of his hoofs upon the grass. It was intolerable to ride +thus cheek by jowl with a goblin. Dick could stand it no longer. He put +spurs to his horse, and endeavored to escape. But it might not be. The +stranger, apparently without effort, was still by his side, and Bess's +feet, in her master's apprehensions, were nailed to the ground. +By-and-by, however, the atmosphere became clearer. Bright quivering +beams burst through the vaporous shroud, and then it was that Dick +discovered that the apparition of Tom King was no other than Luke +Rookwood. He was mounted on his old horse, Rook, and looked grim and +haggard as a ghost vanishing at the crowing of the cock. + +"Sir Luke Rookwood, by this light!" exclaimed Dick, in astonishment. +"Why, I took you for----" + +"The devil, no doubt?" returned Luke, smiling sternly, "and were sorry +to find yourself so hard pressed. Don't disquiet yourself; I am still +flesh and blood." + +"Had I taken you for one of mortal mould," said Dick, "you should have +soon seen where I'd have put you in the race. That confounded fog +deceived me, and Bess acted the fool as well as myself. However, now I +know you, Sir Luke, you must spur alongside, for the hawks are on the +wing; and though I've much to say, I've not a second to lose." And Dick +briefly detailed the particulars of his ride, concluding with his +rencontre with Barbara. "Here's the packet," said he, "just as I got it. +You must keep it till the proper moment. And here," added he, fumbling +in his pocket for another paper, "is the marriage document. You are now +your father's lawful son, let who will say you nay. Take it and welcome. +If you are ever master of Miss Mowbray's hand, you will not forget Dick +Turpin." + +"I will not," said Luke, eagerly grasping the certificate; "but she +never may be mine." + +"You have her oath?" + +"I have." + +"What more is needed?" + +"Her hand." + +"That will follow." + +"It _shall_ follow," replied Sir Luke, wildly. "You are right. She is my +affianced bride--affianced before hell, if not before heaven. I have +sealed the contract with blood--with Sybil's blood--and it shall be +fulfilled. I have her oath--her oath--ha, ha! Though I perish in the +attempt, I will wrest her from Ranulph's grasp. She shall never be his. +I would stab her first. Twice have I failed in my endeavors to bear her +off. I am from Rookwood even now. To-morrow night I shall renew the +attack. Will you assist me?" + +"To-morrow night!" interrupted Dick. + +"Nay, I should say to-night. A new day has already dawned," replied +Luke. + +"I will: she is at Rookwood?" + +"She languishes there at present, attended by her mother and her lover. +The hall is watched and guarded. Ranulph is ever on the alert. But we +will storm their garrison. I have a spy within its walls--a gipsy girl, +faithful to my interests. From her I have learnt that there is a plot to +wed Eleanor to Ranulph, and that the marriage is to take place privately +to-morrow. This must be prevented." + +"It must. But why not boldly appear in person at the hall, and claim +her?" + +"Why not? I am a proscribed felon. A price is set upon my head. I am +hunted through the country--driven to concealment, and dare not show +myself for fear of capture. What could I do now? They would load me with +fetters, bury me in a dungeon, and wed Eleanor to Ranulph. What would my +rights avail? What would her oath signify to them? No; she must be mine +by force. _His_ she shall never be. Again, I ask you, will you aid me?" + +"I have said--I will. Where is Alan Rookwood?" + +"Concealed within the hut on Thorne Waste. You know it--it was one of +your haunts." + +"I know it well," said Dick, "and Conkey Jem, its keeper, into the +bargain: he is a knowing file. I'll join you at the hut at midnight, if +all goes well. We'll bring off the wench, in spite of them all--just the +thing I like. But in case of a break-down on my part, suppose you take +charge of my purse in the mean time." + +Luke would have declined this offer. + +"Pshaw!" said Dick. "Who knows what may happen? and it's not ill-lined +either. You'll find an odd hundred or so in that silken bag--it's not +often your highwayman gives away a purse. Take it, man--we'll settle all +to-night; and if I don't come, keep it--it will help you to your bride. +And now off with you to the hut, for you are only hindering me. Adieu! +My love to old Alan. We'll do the trick to-night. Away with you to the +hut. Keep yourself snug there till midnight, and we'll ride over to +Rookwood." + +"At midnight," replied Sir Luke, wheeling off, "I shall expect you." + +"'Ware hawks!" hallooed Dick. + +But Luke had vanished. In another instant Dick was scouring the plain as +rapidly as ever. In the mean time, as Dick has casually alluded to the +hawks, it may not be amiss to inquire how they had flown throughout the +night, and whether they were still in chase of their quarry. + +With the exception of Titus, who was completely done up at Grantham, +"having got," as he said, "a complete bellyful of it," they were still +on the wing, and resolved sooner or later to pounce upon their prey, +pursuing the same system as heretofore in regard to the post-horses. +Major Mowbray and Paterson took the lead, but the irascible and +invincible attorney was not far in their rear, his wrath having been by +no means allayed by the fatigue he had undergone. At Bawtrey they held +a council of war for a few minutes, being doubtful which course he had +taken. Their incertitude was relieved by a foot traveller, who had heard +Dick's loud halloo on passing the boundary of Nottinghamshire, and had +seen him take the lower road. They struck, therefore, into the path at +Thorne at a hazard, and were soon satisfied they were right. Furiously +did they now spur on. They reached Selby, changed horses at the inn in +front of the venerable cathedral church, and learnt from the postboy +that a toilworn horseman, on a jaded steed, had ridden through the town +about five minutes before them, and could not be more than a quarter of +a mile in advance. "His horse was so dead beat," said the lad, "that I'm +sure he cannot have got far; and, if you look sharp, I'll be bound +you'll overtake him before he reaches Cawood Ferry." + +Mr. Coates was transported. "We'll lodge him snug in York Castle before +an hour, Paterson," cried he, rubbing his hands. + +"I hope so, sir," said the chief constable, "but I begin to have some +qualms." + +"Now, gentlemen," shouted the postboy, "come along. I'll soon bring you +to him." + + + + +_CHAPTER XII_ + +_CAWOOD FERRY_ + + The sight renewed my courser's feet, + A moment, staggering feebly fleet, + A moment, with a faint low neigh, + He answered, and then fell. + With gasps and glazing eyes he lay, + And reeking limbs immovable,-- + His first, and last career was done. + + _Mazeppa._ + + +The sun had just o'ertopped the "high eastern hill," as Turpin reached +the Ferry of Cawood, and his beams were reflected upon the deep and +sluggish waters of the Ouse. Wearily had he dragged his course +thither--wearily and slow. The powers of his gallant steed were spent, +and he could scarcely keep her from sinking. It was now midway 'twixt +the hours of five and six. Nine miles only lay before him, and that +thought again revived him. He reached the water's edge, and hailed the +ferryboat, which was then on the other side of the river. At that +instant a loud shout smote his ear; it was the halloo of his pursuers. +Despair was in his look. He shouted to the boatman, and bade him pull +fast. The man obeyed; but he had to breast a strong stream, and had a +lazy bark and heavy sculls to contend with. He had scarcely left the +shore when, another shout was raised from the pursuers. The tramp of +their steeds grew louder and louder. + +The boat had scarcely reached the middle of the stream. His captors were +at hand. Quietly did he walk down the bank, and as cautiously enter the +water. There was a plunge, and steed and rider were swimming down the +river. + +Major Mowbray was at the brink of the stream. He hesitated an instant, +and stemmed the tide. Seized, as it were, by a mania for equestrian +distinction, Mr. Coates braved the torrent. Not so Paterson. He very +coolly took out his bulldogs, and, watching Turpin, cast up in his own +mind the _pros_ and _cons_ of shooting him as he was crossing. "I could +certainly hit him," thought, or said, the constable; "but what of that? +A dead highwayman is worth nothing--alive, he _weighs_ 300_l_. I won't +shoot him, but I'll make a pretence." And he fired accordingly. + +The shot skimmed over the water, but did not, as it was intended, do +much mischief. It, however, occasioned a mishap, which had nearly proved +fatal to our aquatic attorney. Alarmed at the report of the pistol, in +the nervous agitation of the moment Coates drew in his rein so tightly +that his steed instantly sank. A moment or two afterwards he rose, +shaking his ears, and floundering heavily towards the shore; and such +was the chilling effect of this sudden immersion, that Mr. Coates now +thought much more of saving himself than of capturing Turpin. Dick, +meanwhile, had reached the opposite bank, and, refreshed by her bath, +Bess scrambled up the sides of the stream, and speedily regained the +road. "I shall do it yet," shouted Dick; "that stream has saved her. +Hark away, lass! Hark away!" + +Bess heard the cheering cry, and she answered to the call. She roused +all her energies; strained every sinew, and put forth all her remaining +strength. Once more, on wings of swiftness, she bore him away from his +pursuers, and Major Mowbray, who had now gained the shore, and made +certain of securing him, beheld him spring, like a wounded hare, from +beneath his very hand. + +"It cannot hold out," said the major; "it is but an expiring flash; that +gallant steed must soon drop." + +"She be regularly booked, that's certain," said the postboy. + +"We shall find her on the road." + +Contrary to all expectation, however, Bess held on, and set pursuit at +defiance. Her pace was swift as when she started. But it was +unconscious and mechanical action. It wanted the ease, the lightness, +the life of her former riding. She seemed screwed up to a task which she +must execute. There was no flogging, no gory heel; but the heart was +throbbing, tugging at the sides within. Her spirit spurred her onwards. +Her eye was glazing; her chest heaving; her flank quivering; her crest +again fallen. Yet she held on. "She is dying!" said Dick. "I feel +it----" No, she held on. + +Fulford is past. The towers and pinnacles of York burst upon him in all +the freshness, the beauty, and the glory of a bright, clear, autumnal +morn. The ancient city seemed to smile a welcome--a greeting. The noble +Minster and its serene and massive pinnacles, crocketed, lantern-like, +and beautiful; St. Mary's lofty spire, All-Hallows Tower, the massive +mouldering walls of the adjacent postern, the grim castle, and +Clifford's neighboring keep--all beamed upon him, like a bright-eyed +face, that laughs out openly. + +"It is done--it is won," cried Dick. "Hurrah! hurrah!" And the sunny air +was cleft with his shouts. + +Bess was not insensible to her master's exultation. She neighed feebly +in answer to his call, and reeled forwards. It was a piteous sight to +see her,--to mark her staring, protruding eyeball,--her shaking flanks; +but, while life and limb held together, she held on. + +Another mile is past. York is near. + +"Hurrah!" shouted Dick; but his voice was hushed. Bess tottered--fell. +There was a dreadful gasp--a parting moan--a snort; her eye gazed, for +an instant, upon her master, with a dying glare; then grew glassy, +rayless, fixed. A shiver ran through her frame. Her heart had burst. + +Dick's eyes were blinded, as with rain. His triumph, though achieved, +was forgotten--his own safety was disregarded. He stood weeping and +swearing, like one beside himself. + +"And art thou gone, Bess?" cried he, in a voice of agony, lifting up his +courser's head, and kissing her lips, covered with blood-flecked foam. +"Gone, gone! and I have killed the best steed that was ever crossed! And +for what?" added Dick, beating his brow with his clenched hand--"for +what? for what?" + +At this moment the deep bell of the Minster clock tolled out the hour of +six. + +"I am answered," gasped Dick; "_it was to hear those strokes_." + +Turpin was roused from the state of stupefaction into which he had +fallen by a smart slap on the shoulder. Recalled to himself by the blow, +he started at once to his feet, while his hands sought his pistols: but +he was spared the necessity of using them, by discovering in the +intruder the bearded visage of the gipsy Balthazar. The patrico was +habited in mendicant weeds, and sustained a large wallet upon his +shoulders. + +"So it's all over with the best mare in England, I see," said Balthazar; +"I can guess how it has happened--you are pursued?" + +"I am," said Dick, roughly. + +"Your pursuers are at hand?" + +"Within a few hundred yards." + +"Then, why stay here? Fly while you can." + +"Never--never," cried Turpin; "I'll fight it out here by Bess's side. +Poor lass! I've killed her--but she has done it--ha, ha!--we have +won--what?" And his utterance was again choked. + +"Hark! I hear the tramp of horse, and shouts," cried the patrico. "Take +this wallet. You will find a change of dress within it. Dart into that +thick copse--save yourself." + +"But Bess--I cannot leave her," exclaimed Dick, with an agonizing look +at his horse. + +"And what did Bess die for, but to save you?" rejoined the patrico. + +"True, true," said Dick; "but take care of her, don't let those dogs of +hell meddle with her carcase." + +"Away," cried the patrico, "leave Bess to me." + +Possessing himself of the wallet, Dick disappeared in the adjoining +copse. + +He had not been gone many seconds when Major Mowbray rode up. + +"Who is this?" exclaimed the Major, flinging himself from his horse, and +seizing the patrico; "this is not Turpin." + +"Certainly not," replied Balthazar, coolly. "I am not exactly the figure +for a highwayman." + +"Where is he? What has become of him?" asked Coates, in despair, as he +and Paterson joined the major. + +"Escaped, I fear," replied the major. "Have you seen any one, fellow?" +added he, addressing the patrico. + +"I have seen no one," replied Balthazar. "I am only this instant +arrived. This dead horse lying in the road attracted my attention." + +"Ha!" exclaimed Paterson, leaping from his steed, "this may be Turpin +after all. He has as many disguises as the devil himself, and may have +carried that goat's hair in his pocket." Saying which, he seized the +patrico by the beard, and shook it with as little reverence as the Gaul +handled the hirsute chin of the Roman senator. + +"The devil! hands off," roared Balthazar. "By Salamon, I won't stand +such usage. Do you think a beard like mine is the growth of a few +minutes? Hands off! I say." + +"Regularly done!" said Paterson, removing his hold of the patrico's +chin, and looking as blank as a cartridge. + +"Ay," exclaimed Coates; "all owing to this worthless piece of carrion. +If it were not that I hope to see him dangling from those +walls"--pointing towards the Castle--"I should wish her master were by +her side now. To the dogs with her." And he was about to spurn the +breathless carcase of poor Bess, when a sudden blow, dealt by the +patrico's staff, felled him to the ground. + +"I'll teach you to molest me," said Balthazar, about to attack Paterson. + +"Come, come," said the discomfited chief constable, "no more of this. +It's plain we're in the wrong box. Every bone in my body aches +sufficiently without the aid of your cudgel, old fellow. Come, Mr. +Coates, take my arm, and let's be moving. We've had an infernal long +ride for nothing." + +"Not so," replied Coates; "I've paid pretty dearly for it. However, let +us see if we can get any breakfast at the Bowling-green, yonder; though +I've already had my morning draught," added the facetious man of law, +looking at his dripping apparel. + +"Poor Black Bess!" said Major Mowbray, wistfully regarding the body of +the mare, as it lay stretched at his feet. "Thou deservedst a better +fate, and a better master. In thee, Dick Turpin has lost his best +friend. His exploits will, henceforth, want the coloring of romance, +which thy unfailing energies threw over them. Light lie the ground over +thee, thou matchless mare!" + +To the Bowling-green the party proceeded, leaving the patrico in +undisturbed possession of the lifeless body of Black Bess. Major Mowbray +ordered a substantial repast to be prepared with all possible +expedition. + +A countryman, in a smock-frock, was busily engaged at his morning's +meal. + +"To see that fellow bolt down his breakfast, one would think he had +fasted for a month," said Coates; "see the wholesome effects of an +honest, industrious life, Paterson. I envy him his appetite--I should +fall to with more zest were Dick Turpin in his place." + +The countryman looked up. He was an odd-looking fellow, with a terrible +squint, and a strange, contorted countenance. + +"An ugly dog!" exclaimed Paterson: "what a devil of a twist he has +got!" + +"What's that you says about Dick Taarpin, measter?" asked the +countryman, with his mouth half full of bread. + +"Have you seen aught of him?" asked Coates. + +"Not I," mumbled the rustic; "but I hears aw the folks hereabouts talk +on him. They say as how he sets all the lawyers and constables at +defiance, and laughs in his sleeve at their efforts to cotch him--ha, +ha! He gets over more ground in a day than they do in a week--ho, ho!" + +"That's all over now," said Coates, peevishly. "He has cut his own +throat--ridden his famous mare to death." + +The countryman almost choked himself, in the attempt to bolt a huge +mouthful. "Ay--indeed, measter! How happened that?" asked he, so soon as +he recovered speech. + +"The fool rode her from London to York last night," returned Coates; +"such a feat was never performed before. What horse could be expected to +live through such work as that?" + +"Ah, he were a foo' to attempt that," observed the countryman; "but you +followed belike?" + +"We did." + +"And took him arter all, I reckon?" asked the rustic, squinting more +horribly than ever. + +"No," returned Coates, "I can't say we did; but we'll have him yet. I'm +pretty sure he can't be far off. We may be nearer him than we imagine." + +"May be so, measter," returned the countryman; "but might I be so bold +as to ax how many horses you used i' the chase--some half-dozen, maybe?" + +"Half a dozen!" growled Paterson; "we had twenty at the least." + +"And I ONE!" mentally ejaculated Turpin, for he was the countryman. + + + + +_BOOK V_ + + +_THE OATH_ + + It was an ill oath better broke than kept-- + The laws of nature, and of nations, do + Dispense with matters of divinity + In such a case. + + TATEHAM. + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_THE HUT ON THORNE WASTE_ + + _Hind._ Are all our horses and our arms in safety? + + _Furbo._ They feed, like Pluto's palfreys, under ground. + Our pistols, swords, and other furniture, + Are safely locked up at our rendezvous. + + _Prince of Prigs' Revels._ + + +The hut on Thorne Waste, to which we have before incidentally alluded, +and whither we are now about to repair, was a low, lone hovel, situate +on the banks of the deep and oozy Don, at the eastern extremity of that +extensive moor. Ostensibly its owner fulfilled the duties of ferryman to +that part of the river; but as the road which skirted his tenement was +little frequented, his craft was, for the most part, allowed to sleep +undisturbed in her moorings. + +In reality, however, he was the inland agent of a horde of smugglers who +infested the neighboring coast; his cabin was their rendezvous; and not +unfrequently, it was said, the depository of their contraband goods. +Conkey Jem--so was he called by his associates, on account of the +Slawkenbergian promontory which decorated his countenance--had been an +old hand at the same trade; but having returned from a seven years' +leave of absence from his own country, procured by his lawless life, now +managed matters with more circumspection and prudence, and had never +since been detected in his former illicit traffic; nor, though so +marvellously gifted in that particular himself, was he ever known to +_nose_ upon any of his accomplices; or, in other words, to betray them. +On the contrary, his hut was a sort of asylum for all fugitives from +justice; and although the sanctity of his walls would, in all +probability, have been little regarded, had any one been, detected +within them, yet, strange to say, even if a robber had been tracked--as +it often chanced--to Jem's immediate neighborhood, all traces of him +were sure to be lost at the ferryman's hut; and further search was +useless. + +Within, the hut presented such an appearance as might be expected, from +its owner's pursuits and its own unpromising exterior. Consisting of +little more than a couple of rooms, the rude whitewashed walls +exhibited, in lieu of prints of more pretension, a gallery of +choicely-illustrated ballads, celebrating the exploits of various +highwaymen, renowned in song, amongst which our friend Dick Turpin +figured conspicuously upon his sable steed, Bess being represented by a +huge rampant black patch, and Dick, with a pistol considerably longer +than the arm that sustained it. Next to this curious collection was a +drum-net, a fishing-rod, a landing-net, an eel-spear, and other +piscatorial apparatus, with a couple of sculls and a boat-hook, +indicative of Jem's ferryman's office, suspended by various hooks; the +whole blackened and begrimed by peat-smoke, there being no legitimate +means of _exit_ permitted to the vapor generated by the turf-covered +hearthstone. The only window, indeed, in the hut, was to the front; the +back apartment, which served Jem for dormitory, had no aperture whatever +for the admission of light, except such as was afforded through the door +of communication between the rooms. A few broken rush-bottomed chairs, +with a couple of dirty tables, formed the sum total of the ferryman's +furniture. + +Notwithstanding the grotesque effect of his exaggerated nasal organ, +Jem's aspect was at once savage and repulsive; his lank black hair hung +about his inflamed visage in wild elf locks, the animal predominating +throughout; his eyes were small, red, and wolfish, and glared +suspiciously from beneath his scarred and tufted eyebrows; while certain +of his teeth projected, like the tusks of a boar, from out his +coarse-lipped, sensual mouth. Dwarfish in stature, and deformed in +person, Jem was built for strength; and what with his width of shoulder +and shortness of neck, his figure looked as square and as solid as a +cube. His throat and hirsute chest, constantly exposed to the weather, +had acquired a glowing tan, while his arms, uncovered to the shoulders, +and clothed with fur, like a bear's hide, down, almost, to the tips of +his fingers, presented a knot of folded muscles, the concentrated force +of which few would have desired to encounter in action. + +It was now on the stroke of midnight; and Jem, who had been lying +extended upon the floor of his hovel, suddenly aroused by that warning +impulse which never fails to awaken one of his calling at the exact +moment when they require to be upon the alert, now set about fanning +into flame the expiring fuel upon his hearth. Having succeeded in +igniting further portions of the turf, Jem proceeded to examine the +security of his door and window, and satisfied that lock and bolt were +shot, and that the shutter was carefully closed, he kindled a light at +his fire, and walked towards his bedroom. But it was not to retire for +the night that the ferryman entered his dormitory. Beside his crazy +couch stood a litter of empty bottles and a beer cask, crowding the +chamber. The latter he rolled aside, and pressing his foot upon the +plank beneath it, the board gave way, and a trap-door opening, +discovered a ladder, conducting, apparently, into the bowels of the +earth. Jem leaned over the abyss, and called in hoarse accents to some +one below. + +An answer was immediately returned, and a light became soon afterwards +visible at the foot of the ladder. Two figures next ascended; the first +who set foot within the ferryman's chamber was Alan Rookwood: the other, +as the reader may perhaps conjecture, was his grandson. + +"Is it the hour?" asked Luke, as he sprang from out the trap-door. + +"Ay," replied Jem, with a coarse laugh, "or I had not disturbed myself +to call you. But, maybe," added he, softening his manner a little, +"you'll like some refreshments before you start? A stoup of Nantz will +put you in cue for the job, ha, ha!" + +"Not I," replied Luke, who could ill tolerate his companion's +familiarity. + +"Give me to drink," said Alan, walking feebly towards the fire, and +extending his skinny fingers before it. "I am chilled by the damps of +that swampy cave--the natural heat within me is nigh extinguished." + +"Here is that shall put fresh marrow into your old bones," returned Jem, +handing him a tumbler of brandy; "never stint it. I'll be sworn you'll +be the better on't, for you look desperate queer, man, about the +mazard." + +Alan was, in sooth, a ghastly spectacle. The events of the last few days +had wrought a fearful change. His countenance was almost exanimate; and +when, with shaking hand and trembling lips, he had drained the fiery +potion to the dregs, a terrible grimace was excited upon his features, +such as is produced upon the corpse by the action of the galvanic +machine. Even Jem regarded him with a sort of apprehension. After he had +taken breath for a moment, Alan broke out into a fit of wild and +immoderate laughter. + +"Why, ay," said he, "this is indeed to grow young again, and to feel +fresh fire within one's veins. Who would have thought so much of life +and energy could reside in this little vessel? I am myself once more, +and not the same soulless, pulseless lump of clay I was a moment or two +back. The damps of that den had destroyed me--and the solitude--the +_waking dreams_ I've had--the visions! horrible! I will not think of +them. I am better now--ready to execute my plans--_your_ plans I should +say, grandson Luke. Are our horses in readiness? Why do we tarry? The +hour is arrived, and I would not that my new-blown courage should +evaporate ere the great work for which I live be accomplished. That +done, I ask no further stimulant. Let us away." + +"We tarry but for Turpin," said Luke; "I am as impatient as yourself. I +fear some mischance must have befallen him, or he would have been true +to his appointment. Do you not think so?" he added, addressing the +ferryman. + +"Why," replied Jem, reluctantly, "since you put it home to me, and I +can't conceal it no longer, I'll tell you what I didn't tell afore, for +fear you should be down in the mouth about it. Dick Turpin can do +nothing for you--he's grabb'd." + +"Turpin apprehended!" ejaculated Luke. + +"Ay," returned Jem. "I learnt from a farmer who crossed the ferry at +nightfall, that he were grabb'd this morning at York, after having +ridden his famous cherry-colored prad to death--that's what hurts me +more not all the rest; though I fear Dick will scarce cheat the nubbing +cheat this go. His time's up, I calculate." + +"Will you supply his place and accompany us?" asked Luke of the +ferryman. + +"No, no," replied Jem, shaking his head; "there's too much risk, and too +little profit, in the business for me--it won't pay." + +"And what might tempt you to undertake the enterprise?" asked Alan. + +"More than you have to offer, Master Peter," replied Jem, who had not +been enlightened upon the subject of Alan's real name or condition. + +"How know you that?" demanded Alan. "Name your demand." + +"Well, then, I'll not say but a hundred pounds, if you had it, might +bribe me----" + +"To part with your soul to the devil, I doubt not," said Luke, fiercely +stamping the ground. "Let us be gone. We need not his mercenary aid. We +will do without him." + +"Stay," said Alan, "you shall have the hundred, provided you will assure +us of your services." + +"Cut no more blarneyfied whids, Master Sexton," replied Jem, in a gruff +tone. "If I'm to go, I must have the chink down, and that's more nor +either of you can do, I'm thinking." + +"Give me your purse," whispered Alan to his grandson. "Pshaw," continued +he, "do you hesitate? This man can do much for us. Think upon Eleanor, +and be prudent. You cannot accomplish your task unaided." Taking the +amount from the purse, he gave it to the ferryman, adding, "If we +succeed, the sum shall be doubled; and now let us set out." + +During Alan's speech, Jem's sharp eyes had been fastened upon the purse, +while he mechanically clutched the bank-notes which were given to him. +He could not remove his gaze, but continued staring at the treasure +before him, as if he would willingly, by force, have made it all his +own. + +Alan saw the error he had committed in exposing the contents of the +purse to the avaricious ferryman, and was about to restore it to Luke, +when the bag was suddenly snatched from his grasp, and himself levelled +by a blow upon the floor. Conkey Jem found the temptation irresistible. +Knowing himself to be a match for both his companions, and imagining he +was secure from interruption, he conceived the idea of making away with +them, and possessing himself of their wealth. No sooner had he disposed +of Alan, than he assailed Luke, who met his charge half way. With the +vigor and alacrity of the latter the reader is already acquainted, but +he was no match for the herculean strength of the double-jointed +ferryman, who, with the ferocity of the boar he so much resembled, thus +furiously attacked him. Nevertheless, as may be imagined, he was not +disposed to yield up his life tamely. He saw at once the villain's +murderous intentions, and, well aware of his prodigious power, would not +have risked a close struggle could he have avoided it. Snatching the +eel-spear from the wall, he had hurled it at the head of his adversary, +but without effect. In the next instant he was locked in a clasp +terrible as that of a Polar bear. In spite of all his struggles, Luke +was speedily hurled to the ground: and Jem, who had thrown himself upon +him, was apparently searching about for some weapon to put a bloody +termination to the conflict, when the trampling of a horse was heard at +the door, three taps were repeated slowly, one after the other, and a +call resounded from a whistle. + +"Damnation!" ejaculated Jem, gruffly, "interrupted!" And he seemed +irresolute, slightly altering his position on Luke's body. + +The moment was fortunate for Luke, and, in all probability, saved his +life. He extricated himself from the ferryman's grasp, regained his +feet, and, what was of more importance, the weapon he had thrown away. + +"Villain!" cried he, about to plunge the spear with all his force into +his enemy's side, "you shall----" + +The whistle was again heard without. + +"Don't you hear that?" cried Jem: "'Tis Turpin's call." + +"Turpin!" echoed Luke, dropping the point of his weapon. "Unbar the +door, you treacherous rascal, and admit him." + +"Well, say no more about it, Sir Luke," said Jem, fawningly; "I knows I +owes you my life, and I thank you for it. Take back the lowre. He should +not have shown it me--it was that as did all the mischief." + +"Unbar the door, and parley not," said Luke contemptuously. + +Jem complied with pretended alacrity, but real reluctance, casting +suspicious glances at Luke as he withdrew the bolts. The door at length +being opened, haggard, exhausted, and covered with dust, Dick Turpin +staggered into the hut. + +"Well, I am here," said he, with a hollow laugh. "I've kept my word--ha, +ha! I've been damnably put to it; but here I am, ha, ha!" And he sank +upon one of the stools. + +"We heard you were apprehended," said Luke. "I am glad to find the +information was false," added he, glancing angrily at the ferryman. + +"Whoever told you that, told you a lie, Sir Luke," replied Dick; "but +what are you scowling at, old Charon?--and you, Sir Luke? Why do you +glower at each other? Make fast the door--bolt it, Cerberus--right! Now +give me a glass of brandy, and then I'll talk--a bumper--so--another. +What's that I see--a dead man? Old Peter--Alan I mean--has anything +happened to him, that he has taken his measure there so quietly?" + +"Nothing, I trust," said Luke, stooping to raise up his grandsire. "The +blow has stunned him." + +"The blow?" repeated Turpin. "What! there _has_ been a quarrel then? I +thought as much from your amiable looks at each other. Come, come, we +must have no differences. Give the old earthworm a taste of this--I'll +engage it will bring him to fast enough. Ay, rub his temples with it if +you'd rather; but it's a better remedy down the gullet--the natural +course; and hark ye, Jem, search your crib quickly, and see if you have +any _grub_ within it, and any more _bub_ in the cellar: I'm as hungry as +a hunter, and as thirsty as a camel." + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_MAJOR MOWBRAY_ + + _Mephistopheles._ Out with your toasting iron! Thrust away! + + HAYWARD'S _Translation of Faust_. + + +Conkey Jem went in search of such provisions as his hovel afforded. +Turpin, meantime, lent his assistance towards the revival of Alan +Rookwood; and it was not long before his efforts, united with those of +Luke, were successful, and Alan restored to consciousness. He was +greatly surprised to find the highwayman had joined them, and expressed +an earnest desire to quit the hut as speedily as possible. + +"That shall be done forthwith, my dear fellow," said Dick. "But if you +had fasted as long as I have done, and gone through a few of my fatigues +into the bargain, you would perceive, without difficulty, the propriety +of supping before you started. Here comes Old Nosey, with a flitch of +bacon and a loaf. Egad, I can scarce wait for the toasting. In my +present mood, I could almost devour a grunter in the sty." Whereupon he +applied himself to the loaf, and to a bottle of stout March ale, which +Jem placed upon the table, quaffing copious draughts of the latter, +while the ferryman employed himself in toasting certain rashers of the +flitch upon the hissing embers. + +Luke, meanwhile, stalked impatiently about the room. He had laid aside +his tridental spear, having first, however, placed a pistol within his +breast to be ready for instant service, should occasion demand it, as he +could now put little reliance upon the ferryman's fidelity. He glanced +with impatience at Turpin, who pursued his meal with steady voracity, +worthy of a half-famished soldier; but the highwayman returned no answer +to his looks, except such as was conveyed by the incessant clatter of +his masticating jaws, during the progress of his, apparently, +interminable repast. + +"Ready for you in a second, Sir Luke," said Dick; "all right +now--capital ale, Charon--strong as Styx--ha, ha!--one other rasher, and +I've done. Sorry to keep you--can't conceive how cleverly I put the +winkers upon 'em at York, in the dress of a countryman; all owing to old +Balty, the patrico, an old pal--ha, ha! My old pals never _nose_ upon +me--eh, Nosey--always help one out of the water--always staunch. Here's +health to you, old crony." + +Jem returned a sulky response, as he placed the last rasher on the +table, which was speedily discussed. + +"Poor Bess!" muttered Dick, as he quaffed off the final glass of ale. +"Poor lass! we buried her by the roadside, beneath the trees--deep--deep. +Her remains shall never be disturbed. Alas! alas! my bonny Black Bess! +But no matter, her name is yet alive--her deeds will survive her--the +trial is over. And now," continued he, rising from his seat, "I'm with +you. Where are the tits?" + +"In the stable, under ground," growled Jem. + +Alan Rookwood, in the mean time, had joined his grandson, and they +conversed an instant or two apart. + +"My strength will not bear me through the night," said he. "That fellow +has thoroughly disabled me. You must go without me to the hall. Here is +the key of the secret passage. You know the entrance. I will await you +in the tomb." + +"The tomb!" echoed Luke. + +"Ay, our family vault," returned Alan, with a ghastly grin--"it is the +only place of security for me now. Let me see _her_ there. Let me know +that my vengeance is complete, that I triumph in my death over him, the +accursed _brother_, through you, my grandson. _You_ have a rival +brother--a successful one; you know now what hatred is." + +"I do," returned Luke, fiercely. + +"But not such hate as mine, which, through a life, a long life, hath +endured, intense as when 'twas first engendered in my bosom; which _from +one_ hath spread o'er all my race--o'er all save _you_--and which even +now, when death stares me in the face--when the spirit pants to fly from +its prison-house, burns fiercely as ever. You cannot know what hate like +that may be. You must have wrongs--such wrongs as _mine_ first." + +"My hate to Ranulph is bitter as your own to Sir Reginald." + +"Name him not," shrieked Alan. "But, oh! to think upon the bride he +robbed me of--the young--the beautiful!--whom I loved to madness; whose +memory is a barbed shaft, yet rankling keen as ever at my heart. God of +Justice! how is it that I have thus long survived? But some men die by +inches. My dying lips shall name him once again, and then 'twill be but +to blend his name with curses." + +"I speak of him no more," said Luke. "I will meet you in the vault." + +"Remember, to-morrow is her wedding day with Ranulph." + +"Think you I forget it?" + +"Bear it constantly in mind. To-morrow's dawn must see her _yours_ or +_his_. You have her oath. To you or to death she is affianced. If she +should hesitate in her election, do not you hesitate. Woman's will is +fickle; her scruples of conscience will be readily overcome; she will +not heed her vows--but let her not escape you. Cast off all your +weakness. You are young, and not as I am, age-enfeebled. Be firm, and," +added he, with a look of terrible meaning, "if all else should fail--if +you are surrounded--if you cannot bear her off--use this," and he placed +a dagger in Luke's hands. "It has avenged me, ere now, on a perjured +wife, it will avenge you of a forsworn mistress, and remove all obstacle +to Rookwood." + +Luke took the weapon. + +"Would you have me kill her?" demanded he. + +"Sooner than she should be Ranulph's." + +"Ay, aught sooner than that. But I would not murder both." + +"Both!" echoed Alan. "I understand you not." + +"Sybil and Eleanor," replied Luke; "for, as surely as I live, Sybil's +death will lie at my door." + +"How so?" asked Alan; "the poison was self-ministered." + +"True," replied Luke, with terrible emphasis, "but I _spoke daggers_. +Hearken to me," said he, hollowly whispering in his grandsire's ears. +"Methinks I am not long for this world. I have seen her since her +death!" + +"Tut, tut," replied Alan. "'Tis not for you--a man--to talk thus. A +truce to these womanish fancies." + +"Womanish or not," returned Luke; "either my fancy has deceived me, or I +beheld her, distinctly as I now behold you, within yon cave, while you +were sleeping by my side." + +"It is disordered fancy," said Alan Rookwood. "You will live--live to +inherit Rookwood--live to see them fall crushed beneath your feet. For +myself, if I but see you master of Eleanor's hand, or know that she no +longer lives to bless your rival, or to mar your prospects, I care not +how soon I brave my threatened doom." + +"Of one or other you shall be resolved to-night," said Luke, placing the +dagger within his vest. + +At this moment a trampling of a horse was heard before the hovel, and in +another instant a loud knocking resounded from the door. The ferryman +instantly extinguished the light, motioning his companions to remain +silent. + +"What, ho!" shouted a voice. "Ferry wanted." + +"Gad zooks!" exclaimed Dick. "As I live, 'tis Major Mowbray!" + +"Major Mowbray!" echoed Alan, in amazement "What doth he here?" + +"He must be on his way from York to Rookwood, I conclude," said Dick. +"If he's here, I'll engage the others are not far off." + +Scarcely were the words out of Dick's mouth, when further clatter was +heard at the door, and the tones of Coates were heard, in _altissimo_ +key, demanding admittance. + +"Let us retire into the next room," whispered Turpin, "and then admit +them by all means, Conkey. And, hark ye, manage to detain them a few +seconds." + +"I'll do it," said Jem. "There's a bit of a hole you can peep through." + +Another loud rat-tat was heard at the door, threatening to burst it from +its hinges. + +"Well, I be coming," said Jem, seeing the coast was clear, in a drowsy, +yawning tone, as if just awakened from sleep. "You'll cross the river +none the faster for making so much noise." + +With these words he unbarred the door, and Coates and Paterson, who, it +appeared, were proceeding to Rookwood, entered the hovel. Major Mowbray +remained on horseback at the door. + +"Can you find us a glass of brandy to keep out the fog?" said Coates, +who knew something of our ferryman's vocations. "I know you are a lad of +amazing _spirit_." + +"May be I can, master, if I choose. But won't the other gemman walk +in-doors likewise?" + +"No, no," said Coates; "Major Mowbray don't choose to dismount." + +"Well, as you please," said Jem. "It'll take me a minute or two to get +the punt in order for all them prads." + +"The brandy in the first place," said Coates. "What's here?" added the +loquacious attorney, noticing the remnants of Turpin's repast. "But that +we're hurried, I should like a little frizzled bacon myself." + +Jem opened the door of his dormitory with the greatest caution, though +apparent indifference, and almost instantly returned with the brandy. +Coates filled a glass for Paterson, and then another for himself. The +ferryman left the house apparently to prepare his boat, half closing the +door after him. + +"By my faith! this is the right thing, Paterson," said the attorney. "We +may be sure the strength of this was never tested by a gauger's proof. +Take another thimbleful. We've twelve miles and a heavy pull to go +through ere we reach Rookwood. After all, we made but a poor night's +work of it, Master Constable. Cursed stupid in us to let him escape. I +only wish we had such another chance. Ah, if we had him within reach +now, how we would spring upon him--secure him in an instant. I should +glory in the encounter. I tell you what, Paterson, if ever he is taken, +I shall make a point of attending his execution, and see whether he dies +game. Ha, ha! You think he's sure to swing, Paterson, eh?" + +"Why, yes," replied the chief constable. "I wish I was as certain of my +reward as that Turpin will eventually figure at the scragging-post." + +"Your reward!" replied Coates. "Make yourself easy on that score, my +boy; you shall have your dues, depend upon it. Nay, for the matter of +that, I'll give you the money now, if you think proper." + +"Nothing like time present," said Paterson. "We'll make all square at +once." + +"Well, then," said Coates, taking out a pocket-book, "you shall have the +hundred I promised. You won't get Turpin's reward, the three hundred +pounds; but that can't be helped. You shall have mine--always a man of +my word, Paterson," continued the attorney, counting out the money. "My +father, the thief-taker, was a man of his word before me." + +"No doubt," said the chief constable; "I shall always be happy to serve +you." + +"And then there's that other affair," said the attorney, mysteriously, +still occupied in doling out his bank-notes, "that Luke Bradley's case; +the fellow, I mean, who calls himself Sir Luke Rookwood--ha, ha! A rank +impostor! Two fives, that makes fifty: you want another fifty, Paterson. +As I was saying, we may make a good job of that--we must ferret him out. +I know who will come down properly for that; and if we could only tuck +him up with his brother blade, why it would be worth double. He's all +along been a thorn in my Lady Rookwood's side; he's an artful +scoundrel." + +"Leave him to me," said Paterson; "I'll have him in less than a week. +What's your charge against him?" + +"Felony, burglary, murder, every description of crime under the +heavens," said Coates. "He's a very devil incarnate. Dick Turpin is as +mild as milk compared with him. By-the-by, now I think of it, this Jem, +Conkey Jem, as folks call him, may know something about him; he's a keen +file; I'll sound him. Thirty, forty, fifty--there's the exact amount. So +much for Dick Turpin." + +"Dick Turpin thanks you for it in person," said Dick, suddenly snatching +the whole sum from Paterson's hands, and felling the chief constable +with a blow of one of his pistols. "I wish I was as sure of escaping the +gallows as I am certain that Paterson has got his reward. You stare, +sir. You are once more in the hands of the Philistines. See who is at +your elbow." + +Coates, who was terrified almost out of his senses at the sight of +Turpin, scarcely ventured to turn his head; but when he did so, he was +perfectly horror-stricken at the threatening aspect of Luke, who held a +cutlass in his hand, which he had picked up in the ferryman's bedroom. + +"So you would condemn me for crimes I have never committed," said Luke. +"I am tempted, I own, to add the destruction of your worthless existence +to their number." + +"Mercy, for God's sake, mercy!" cried Coates, throwing himself at Luke's +feet. "I meant not what I said." + +"Hence, reptile," said Luke, pushing him aside; "I leave you to be dealt +upon by others." + +At this juncture, the door of the hut was flung open, and in rushed +Major Mowbray, sword in hand, followed by Conkey Jem. + +"There he stands, sir," cried the latter; "upon him!" + +"What! Conkey Jem turned snitch upon his pals?" cried Dick; "I scarce +believe my own ears." + +"Make yourself scarce, Dick," growled Jem; "the jigger's open, and the +boat loose. Leave Luke to his fate. He's sold." + +"Never! vile traitor," shouted Dick; "'tis thou art _sold_, not he;" +and, almost ere the words were spoken, a ball was lodged in the brain of +the treacherous ferryman. + +Major Mowbray, meanwhile, had rushed furiously upon Luke, who met his +assault with determined calmness. The strife was sharp, and threatened a +speedy and fatal issue. On the Major's side it was a desperate attack of +cut and thrust, which Luke had some difficulty in parrying; but as yet +no wounds were inflicted. Soldier as was the Major, Luke was not a whit +inferior to him in his knowledge of the science of defence, and in the +exercise of the broadsword he was perhaps the more skilful of the two: +upon the present occasion his coolness stood him in admirable stead. +Seeing him hard pressed, Turpin would have come to his assistance; but +Luke shouted to him to stand aside, and all that Dick could do, amid the +terrific clash of steel, was to kick the tables out of the way of the +combatants. Luke's aim was now slightly grazed by a cut made by the +Major, which he had parried. The smart of the wound roused his ire. He +attacked his adversary in his turn, with so much vigor and good will, +that, driven backwards by the irresistible assault, Major Mowbray +stumbled over the ferryman's body, which happened to lie in his way; and +his sword being struck from his grasp, his life became at once at his +assailant's disposal. + +Luke sheathed his sword. "Major Mowbray," said he, sternly, "your life +is in my power. I spare it for the blood that is between us--for your +sister's sake. I would not raise my hand against her brother." + +"I disclaim your kindred with me, villain!" wrathfully exclaimed the +Major. "I hold you no otherwise than as a wretched impostor, who has set +up claims he cannot justify; and as to my sister, if you dare to couple +her name----" and the Major made an ineffectual attempt to raise +himself, and to regain his sword, which Turpin, however, removed. + +"Dare!" echoed Luke, scornfully; "hereafter, you may learn to fear my +threats, and acknowledge the extent of my daring; and in that confidence +I give you life. Listen to me, sir. I am bound for Rookwood. I have +private access to the house--to your sister's chamber--_her +chamber_--mark you that! I shall go armed--attended. This night she +shall be mine. From you--from Ranulph--from Lady Rookwood, from all will +I bear her off. She shall be mine, and you, before the dawn, my brother, +or----" And Luke paused. + +"What further villainy remains untold?" inquired the Major, fiercely. + +"You shall bewail your sister's memory," replied Luke, gloomily. + +"I embrace the latter alternative with rapture," replied the Major--"God +grant her firmness to resist you. But I tremble for her." And the stern +soldier groaned aloud in his agony. + +"Here is a cord to bind him," said Turpin; "he must remain a prisoner +here." + +"Right," said Alan Rookwood, "unless--but enough blood has been shed +already." + +"Ay, marry has there," said Dick, "and I had rather not have given +Conkey Jem a taste of blue plumb, had there been any other mode of +silencing the snitching scoundrel, which there was not. As to the Major, +he's a gallant enemy, and shall have fair play as long as Dick Turpin +stands by. Come, sir," added he, to the Major, as he bound him hand and +foot with the rope, "I'll do it as gently as I can. You had better +submit with a good grace. There's no help for it. And now for my friend +Paterson, who was so anxious to furnish me with a hempen cravat, before +my neck was in order, he shall have an extra twist of the rope himself, +to teach him the inconvenience of a tight neckcloth when he recovers." +Saying which, he bound Paterson in such a manner, that any attempt at +liberation on the chief constable's part would infallibly strangle him. +"As to you, Mr. Coates," said he, addressing the trembling man of law, +"you shall proceed to Rookwood with us. You may yet be useful, and I'll +accommodate you with a seat behind my own saddle--a distinction I never +yet conferred upon any of your tribe. Recollect the countryman at the +Bowling-green at York--ha, ha! Come along, sir." And having kicked out +the turf fire, Dick prepared to depart. + +It would be vain to describe the feelings of rage and despair which +agitated the major's bosom, as he saw the party quit the hovel, +accompanied by Coates. Aware as he was of their destination, after one +or two desperate but ineffectual attempts to liberate himself, by which +he only increased the painful constriction of his bonds, without in the +slightest degree ameliorating his condition, he resigned himself, with +bitterest forebodings, to his fate. There was no one even to sympathize +with his sufferings. Beside him lay the gory corpse of the ferryman, +and, at a little distance, the scarcely more animate frame of the chief +constable. And here we must leave him, to follow, for a short space, the +course of Luke and his companions. + +Concerning themselves little about their own steeds, the party took +those which first offered, and embarking man and horse in the boat, soon +pushed across the waters of the lutulent Don. Arrived at the opposite +banks of the river, they mounted, and, guided by Luke, after half an +hour's sharp riding, arrived at the skirts of Rookwood Park. Entering +this beautiful sylvan domain, they rode for some time silently among the +trees, till they reached the knoll whence Luke beheld the hall on the +eventful night of his discovery of his mother's wedding ring. A few days +only had elapsed, but during that brief space what storms had swept over +his bosom--what ravages had they not made! He was then all ardor--all +impetuosity--all independence. The future presented a bright unclouded +prospect. Wealth, honors, and happiness apparently awaited him. It was +still the same exquisite scene, hushed, holy, tranquil--even solemn, as +upon that glorious night. The moon was out, silvering wood and water, +and shining on the white walls of the tranquil mansion. Nature was calm, +serene, peaceful as ever. Beneath the trees, he saw the bounding +deer--upon the water, the misty wreaths of vapor--all, all was dreamy, +delightful, soothing, all save his heart--_there_ was the +conflict--_there_ the change. Was it a troubled dream, with the dark +oppression of which he was struggling, or was it stern, waking, actual +life? That moment's review of his wild career was terrible. He saw to +what extremes his ungovernable passions had hurried him; he saw their +inevitable consequences; he saw also his own fate; but he rushed madly +on. + +He swept round the park, keeping under the covert of the wood, till he +arrived at the avenue leading to the mansion. The stems of the aged +limes gleamed silvery white in the moonshine. Luke drew in the rein +beneath one of the largest of the trees. + +"A branch has fallen," said he, as his grandsire joined him. + +"Ha!" exclaimed Alan, "a branch from that tree?" + +"It bodes ill to Ranulph," whispered Luke, "does it not?" + +"Perchance," muttered Alan. "'Tis a vast bough!" + +"We meet within an hour," said Luke, abruptly. + +"Within the tomb of our ancestry," replied Alan; "I will await you +there." + +And as he rode away, Alan murmured to himself the following verse from +one of his own ballads: + + But whether gale or calm prevail, or threatening cloud hath fled, + By hand of Fate, predestinate, a limb that tree will shed-- + A verdant bough, untouched, I trow, by axe or tempest's breath-- + To Rookwood's head an omen dread of fast approaching death. + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_HANDASSAH_ + + I have heard it rumored for these many years, + None of our family dies but there is seen + The shape of an old woman, which is given + By tradition to us to have been murthered + By her nephews for her riches. Such a figure + One night, as the prince sat up late at 's book, + Appeared to him; when, crying out for help, + The gentleman of his chamber found his Grace + All in a cold sweat, altered much in face + And language, since which apparition + He hath grown worse and worse, and much I fear + He cannot live. + + _Duchess of Malfy._ + + +In one of those large antique rooms, belonging to the suite of +apartments constituting the eastern wing of Rookwood Place--upon the +same night as that in which the events just detailed took place, and it +might be about the same time, sat Eleanor, and her new attendant, the +gipsy Handassah. The eyes of the former were fixed, with a mixture of +tenderness and pity, upon the lineaments of another lovely female +countenance, bearing a striking resemblance to her own, though +evidently, from its attire, and bygone costume, not intended for her, +depicted upon a tablet, and placed upon a raised frame. It was nigh the +witching hour of night. The room was sombre and dusky, partially +dismantled of its once flowing arras, and the lights set upon the table +feebly illumined its dreary extent. Tradition marked it out as the +chamber in which many of the hapless dames of Rookwood had expired; and +hence Superstition claimed it as her peculiar domain. The room was +reputed to be haunted, and had for a long space shared the fate of +haunted rooms--complete desertion. It was now tenanted by one too young, +too pure, to fear aught unearthly. Eleanor seemed, nevertheless, +affected by the profound melancholy of the picture upon which she gazed. +At length, Handassah observed her start, and avert her eye shudderingly +from the picture. + +"Take it hence," exclaimed Eleanor; "I have looked at that image of my +ancestors, till it has seemed endowed with life--till its eyes have +appeared to return my gaze, and weep. Remove it, Handassah." + +Handassah silently withdrew the tablet, placing it against the wall of +the chamber. + +"Not there--not there," cried Eleanor; "turn it with its face to the +wall. I cannot bear those eyes. And now come hither, girl--draw +nearer--for I know not what of sudden dread has crossed me. This was +_her_ room, Handassah--the chamber of my ancestress--of all the Ladies +Rookwood--where they say----Ha! did you not hear a noise?--a rustle in +the tapestry--a footstep near the wall? Why, you look as startled as I +look, wench; stay by me--I will not have you stir from my side--'twas +mere fancy." + +"No doubt, lady," said Handassah, with her eyes fixed upon the arras. + +"Hist!" exclaimed Eleanor, "there 'tis again." + +"'Tis nothing," replied Handassah. But her looks belied her words. + +"Well, I will command myself," said Eleanor, endeavoring to regain her +calmness; "but the thoughts of the Lady Eleanor--for _she_ was an +Eleanor like to me, Handassah--and ah! even more ill-fated and +unhappy--have brought a whole train of melancholy fancies into my mind. +I cannot banish them: nay, though painful to me, I recur to these images +of dread with a species of fascination, as if in their fate I +contemplated mine own. Not one, who hath wedded a Rookwood, but hath +rued it." + +"Yet you will wed one," said Handassah. + +"He is not like the rest," said Eleanor. + +"How know you that, lady?" asked Handassah. "His time may not yet be +come. See what to-morrow will bring forth." + +"You are averse to my marriage with Ranulph, Handassah." + +"I was Sybil's handmaid ere I was yours, lady. I bear in mind a solemn +compact with the dead, which this marriage will violate. You are +plighted by oath to another, if he should demand your hand." + +"But he has not demanded it." + +"Would you accept him were he to do so?" asked Handassah, suddenly. + +"I meant not that," replied Eleanor. "My oath is annulled." + +"Say not so, lady," cried Handassah--"'twas not for this that Sybil +spared your life. I love you, but I loved Sybil, and I would see her +dying behests complied with." + +"It may not be, Handassah," replied Eleanor. "Why, from a phantom sense +of honor, am I to sacrifice my whole existence to one who neither can +love me, nor whom I myself could love? Am I to wed this man because, in +her blind idolatry of him, Sybil enforced an oath upon me which I had no +power to resist, and which was mentally cancelled while taken? Recall +not the horrors of that dreadful cell--urge not the subject more. 'Tis +in the hope that I may be freed for ever from this persecution that I +have consented thus early to wed with Ranulph. This will set Luke's +fancied claims at rest for ever." + +Handassah answered not, but bent her head, as if in acquiescence. + +Steps were now heard near the door, and a servant ushered in Dr. Small +and Mrs. Mowbray. + +"I am come to take leave of you for the night, my dear young lady," said +the doctor; "but before I start for the Vicarage, I have a word or two +to say, in addition to the advice you were so obliging as to receive +from me this morning. Suppose you allow your attendant to retire for a +few minutes. What I have got to say concerns yourself solely. Your +mother will bear us company. There," continued the doctor, as Handassah +was dismissed--"I am glad that dark-faced gipsy has taken her departure. +I can't say I like her sharp suspicious manner, and the first exercise I +should make at my powers, were I to be your husband, should be to +discharge the handmaiden. To the point of my visit. We are alone, I +think. This is a queer old house, Miss Mowbray; and this is the queerest +part of it. Walls have ears, they say; and there are so many holes and +corners in this mansion, that one ought never to talk secrets above +one's breath." + +"I am yet to learn, sir," said Eleanor, "that there is any secret to be +communicated." + +"Why, not much, I own," replied the doctor; "at least what has occurred +is no secret in the house by this time. What do you think _has_ +happened?" + +"It is impossible for me to conjecture. Nothing to Ranulph, I hope." + +"Nothing of consequence, I trust,--though he is part concerned with it." + +"What is it?" asked Eleanor. + +"Pray satisfy her curiosity, doctor," interposed Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Well, then," said Small, rather more gravely, "the fact of the matter +stands thus:--Lady Rookwood, who, as you know, was not the meekest wife +in the world, now turns out by no means the gentlest mother, and has +within this hour found out that she has some objection to your union +with her son." + +"You alarm me, doctor." + +"Don't alarm yourself at all. It will be got over without difficulty, +and only requires a little management. Ranulph is with her now, and I +doubt not will arrange all to her satisfaction." + +"What was her objection?" asked Eleanor; "was it any one founded upon my +obligation to Luke--my oath?" + +"Tut, tut! dismiss that subject from your mind entirely," said the +doctor. "That oath is no more binding on your conscience than would have +been the ties of marriage had you been wedded by yon recusant Romish +priest, Father Checkley, upon whose guilty head the Lord be merciful! +Bestow not a thought upon it. My anxiety, together with that of your +mother, is to see you now, as speedily as may be, wedded to Ranulph, and +then that idle question is set at rest for ever; and therefore, even if +such a thing were to occur as that Lady Rookwood should not yield her +consent to your marriage, as that consent is totally unnecessary, we +must go through the ceremonial without it." + +"The grounds of Lady Rookwood's objections----" said Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Ay, the grounds of her ladyship's objections," interposed Small, who, +when he had once got the lead, liked nobody to talk but himself, "are +simply these, and exactly the sort of objections one would expect her to +raise. She cannot bear the idea of abandoning the control of the house +and estates to other hands. She cannot, and will not relinquish her +station, as head of the establishment, which Ranulph has insisted upon +as your right. I thought, when I conversed with her on this subject, +that she was changed, but + + Naturam expellas furc, tamen usque recurret. + +I beg your pardon. She is, and always will be, the same." + +"Why did not Ranulph concede the point to her? I wish not to dwell here. +I care not for these domains--for this mansion. They have no charms for +me. I could be happy with Ranulph anywhere--happier anywhere than +here." + +The kind-hearted doctor squeezed her hand in reply, brushing a tear from +his eyes. + +"Why did he not concede it?" said Mrs. Mowbray, proudly. "Because the +choice remained not with him. It was not his to concede. This +house--these lands--all--all are yours; and it were poor requital, +indeed, if, after they have so long been wrongfully withheld from us, +you should be a dependant on Lady Rookwood." + +"Without going quite so far as that, madam," said the doctor, "it is but +justice to your daughter that she should be put in full possession of +her rights; nor should I for one instant advise, or even allow her to +inhabit the same house with Lady Rookwood. Her ladyship's peculiarities +of temper are such as to preclude all possibility of happiness. At the +same time, I trust by management--always by management, madam--that her +ladyship's quiet departure may be ensured. I understand that all such +legal arrangements in the way of settlements as could be entered into +between your daughter and her future husband are completed. I have only +to regret the absence of my friend, Mr. Coates, at this momentous +conjuncture. It will be a loss to him. But he inherits from his father a +taste for thief-taking, which he is at present indulging, to the +manifest injury of his legitimate practice. Hark! I hear Ranulph's step +in the gallery. He will tell us the result of his final interview. I +came to give you advice, my dear," added the doctor in a low tone to +Eleanor; "but I find you need it not. 'Whoso humbleth himself, shall be +exalted.' I am glad you do not split upon the rock which has stranded +half your generation." + +At this moment Ranulph Rookwood entered the room, followed by Handassah, +who took her station at the back of the room, unperceived by the rest of +the party, whose attention was attracted by Ranulph's agitated manner. + +"What has happened?" asked Dr. Small and Mrs. Mowbray in the same +breath. + +Ranulph hesitated for a moment in his answer, during which space he +regarded Eleanor with the deepest anxiety, and seemed revolving within +himself how he could frame his reply in such way as should be least +painful to her feelings; while, with instinctive apprehension of coming +misfortune, Miss Mowbray eagerly seconded the inquiries of her friends. + +"It is with great pain," said he, at length, in a tone of despondency, +not unmingled with displeasure, "that I am obliged to descant upon the +infirmities of a parent, and to censure her conduct as severely as I may +do now. I feel the impropriety of such a step, and I would willingly +avoid it, could I do so in justice to my own feelings--and especially at +a moment like the present--when every hope of my life is fixed upon +uniting myself to you, dear Eleanor, by ties as near as my own to that +parent. But the interview which I have just had with Lady +Rookwood--bitter and heart-breaking as it has been--compels me to +reprobate her conduct in the strongest terms, as harsh, unjust, and +dishonorable; and if I could wholly throw off the son, as she avows she +has thrown off the mother, I should unhesitatingly pronounce it as +little short of----" + +"Dear Ranulph," said Eleanor, palpitating with apprehension, "I never +saw you so much moved." + +"Nor with so much reason," rejoined Ranulph. "For myself, I could endure +anything--but for _you_----" + +"And does your dispute relate to _me_?" asked Eleanor. "Is it for _my_ +sake you have braved your mother's displeasure? Is it because Lady +Rookwood is unwilling to resign the control of this house and these +lands to _me_, that you have parted in anger with her? Was this the +cause of your quarrel?" + +"It was the origin of it," replied Ranulph. + +"Mother," said Eleanor, firmly, to Mrs. Mowbray, "go with me to Lady +Rookwood's chamber." + +"Wherefore?" demanded Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Question me not, dear mother, or let me go alone." + +"Daughter, I guess your meaning," said Mrs. Mowbray, sternly. "You would +relinquish your claims in favor of Lady Rookwood. Is it not so?" + +"Since you oblige me to answer you, mother," said Eleanor, crimsoning, +"I must admit that you have guessed my meaning. To Lady Rookwood, as to +yourself, I would be a daughter as far as is consistent with my duty," +added she, blushing still more deeply, "but my first consideration shall +be my husband. And if Lady Rookwood can be content----But pray question +me not further--accompany me to her chamber." + +"Eleanor," interposed Ranulph, "dearest Eleanor, the sacrifice you would +make is unnecessary--uncalled for. You do not know my mother. She would +not, I grieve to say, appreciate the generosity of your motives. She +would not give you credit for your feelings. She would only resent your +visit as an intrusion." + +"My daughter comprehends you, sir," said Mrs. Mowbray, haughtily. "I +will take care that, in her own house, Miss Mowbray shall remain free +from insult." + +"Mother, dear mother," said Eleanor, "do not wilfully misunderstand +him." + +"You can be little aware, madam," said Ranulph, calmly, yet sadly, "how +much I have recently endured--how much of parental anger--how much of +parental malediction I have incurred, to save you and your daughter from +the indignity you apprehend. As I before said, you do not know my +mother; nor could it enter into any well-regulated imagination to +conceive the extremities to which the violence of her passion will, when +her schemes are thwarted, hurry her. The terms upon which you met +together will not escape your recollection; nor shall I need to recall +to your mind her haughtiness, her coldness. That coldness has since +ripened into distrust; and the match which she was at first all anxiety +to promote, she would now utterly set aside, were it in her power to do +so. Whence this alteration in her views has arisen, I have no means of +ascertaining; it is not my mother's custom to give a reason for her +actions, or her wishes: it is all-sufficient to express them. I have +perceived, as the time has drawn nigh for the fulfilment of my dearest +hopes, that her unwillingness has increased; until to-day, what had +hitherto been confined to hints, has been openly expressed, and absolute +objections raised. Such, however, is the peculiarity of her temper, that +I trusted, even at the eleventh hour, I should be able to work a change. +Alas! our last meeting was decisive. She commanded me to break off the +match. At once, and peremptorily, I refused. Pardon me, madam, pardon +me, dearest Eleanor, if I thus enter into particulars; it is absolutely +necessary I should be explicit. Enraged at my opposition to her wishes, +her fury became ungovernable. With appalling imprecations upon the +memory of my poor father, and upon _your_ father, madam, whose chief +offence in her eyes was, it seems, the disposition of his property to +Eleanor, she bade me be gone, and take her curses as my wedding portion. +Beneath this roof--beneath _her_ roof, she added--no marriage of mine +should e'er take place. I might go hence, or might stay, as I thought +fitting; but you and your daughter, whom she characterized as intruders, +should not remain another hour within her house. To this wild raving I +answered, with as much composure as I could command, that she entirely +mistook her own position, and that, so far from the odium of intrusion +resting with you, if applicable to any one, the term must necessarily +affix itself on those who, through ignorance, had for years unjustly +deprived the rightful owners of this place of their inheritance. Upon +this her wrath was boundless. She disowned me as her son; disclaimed all +maternal regard, and heaped upon my head a frightful malediction, at the +recollection of which I still tremble. I will spare you further details +of this dreadful scene. To me it is most distressing; for, however +firmly resolved I may be to pursue a line of conduct which every sound +principle within me dictates as the correct one, yet I cannot be +insensible to the awful responsibility I shall incur in bringing down a +mother's curse upon my head, nor to the jeopardy in which her own +excessive violence may place her." + +Mrs. Mowbray listened to Ranulph's explanation in haughty displeasure; +Eleanor with throbbing, tearful interest; Dr. Small, with mixed feelings +of anger and astonishment. + +"Lady Rookwood's conduct," said the doctor, "is--you must forgive me, my +dear Sir Ranulph, for using strong expressions--outrageous beyond all +precedent, and only excusable on the ground of insanity, to which I wish +it were possible we could attribute it. There is, however, too much +method in her madness to allow us to indulge any such notion; she is +shrewd, dangerous, and designing; and, since she has resolved to oppose +this match, she will leave no means untried to do so. I scarcely know +how to advise you under the circumstances--that is, if my advice were +asked." + +"Which I scarcely think it likely to be, sir," said Mrs. Mowbray, +coldly. "After what has occurred, _I_ shall think it my duty to break +off this alliance, which I have never considered to be so desirable that +its rupture will occasion me an instant's uneasiness." + +"A plague on all these Rookwoods!" muttered Small. "One would think all +the pride of the Prince of Darkness were centered in their bosoms. But, +madam," continued the benevolent doctor, "have you no consideration for +the feelings of your daughter, or for those of one who is no distant +relation to you--your nephew? Your son, Major Mowbray, is, if I mistake +not, most eager for this union to take place between his sister and his +friend." + +"My children have been accustomed to yield implicit obedience to my +wishes," said Mrs. Mowbray, "and Major Mowbray, I am sure, will see the +propriety of the step I am about to take. I am content, at least, to +abide by _his_ opinion." + +"Snubbed again!" mentally ejaculated the doctor, with a shrug of +despair. "It is useless attempting to work upon such impracticable +material." + +Ranulph remained mute, in an attitude of profound melancholy. An +eloquent interchange of glances had passed between him and Eleanor, +communicating to each the anxious state of the other's feelings. + +At this crisis the door was suddenly opened, and old Agnes, Lady +Rookwood's aged attendant, rushed into the room, and sank upon her knees +on the floor, her limbs shaking, her teeth chattering, and every feature +expressive of intense terror. Ranulph went instantly towards her to +demand the cause of her alarm. + +"No, let me pray," cried Agnes, as he took her hand in the attempt to +raise her; "let me pray while there is yet time--let the worthy doctor +pray beside me. Pray for an overladen soul, sir; pray heartily, as you +would hope for mercy yourself. Ah! little know the righteous of the +terrors of those that are beyond the pale of mercy. The Lord pardon me +my iniquities, and absolve _her_." + +"Whom do you mean?" asked Ranulph, in agitation. "You do not allude to +my mother?" + +"You have no longer a mother, young man," said Agnes, solemnly. + +"What!" exclaimed Ranulph, terror-stricken; "is she dead?" + +"She is gone." + +"Gone! How? Whither?" exclaimed all, their amazement increasing each +instant at the terror of the old woman, and the apparently terrible +occasion of it. + +"Speak!" exclaimed Ranulph; "but why do I loiter? my mother, perchance, +is dying--let me go." + +The old woman maintained her clutching grasp, which was strong and +convulsive as that of one struggling betwixt life and death. "It's of no +use, I tell you; it's all over," said she--"the dead are come--the dead +are come--and she is gone." + +"Whither?--whither?" + +"To the grave--to the tomb," said Agnes, in a deep and hollow tone, and +with a look that froze Ranulph's soul. "Listen to me, Ranulph Rookwood, +my child, my nursling--listen while I _can_ speak. We were alone, your +mother and I, after that scene between you; after the dark denunciations +she had heaped upon the dead, when I heard a low and gasping kind of +sob, and there I saw your mother staring wildly upon the vacancy, as if +she saw that of which I dare not think." + +"What think you she beheld?" asked Ranulph, quaking with apprehension. + +"That which had been your father," returned Agnes, in a hollow tone. +"Don't doubt me, sir--you'll find the truth of what I say anon. I am +sure he was there. There was a thrilling, speechless horror in the very +sight of her countenance that froze my old blood to ice--to the ice in +which 'tis now--ough! ough! Well, at length she arose, with her eyes +still fixed, and passed through the paneled door without a word. She is +gone!" + +"What madness is this?" cried Ranulph. "Let me go, woman--'tis that +ruffian in disguise--she may be murdered." + +"No, no," shrieked Agnes; "it was no disguise. She is gone, I tell +you--the room was empty, all the rooms were empty--the passage was +void--through the door they went together--silently, silently--ghostlike, +slow. Ha! that tomb--they are there together now--he has her in his +arms--see, they are here--they glide through the door--do you not see +them now? Did I not speak the truth? She is dead--ha, ha!" And with a +frantic and bewildering laugh the old woman fell upon her face. + +Ranulph raised her from the floor; but the shock of what she had beheld +had been too much for her. She was dead! + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_THE DOWER OF SYBIL_ + + _Card._ Now art thou come? Thou look'st ghastly; + There sits in thy face some great determination, + Mixed with some fear. + + _Bos._ Thus it lightens into action: + I am come to kill thee. + + _Duchess of Malfy._ + + +Ranulph Rookwood was for some moments so much stunned by the ghastly +fate of Agnes, connected, as it appeared to be, with a supernatural +summons similar to that which he imagined he had himself received, that +he was incapable of stirring from the spot, or removing his gaze from +the rigid features of the corpse, which, even in death, wore the strong +impress of horror and despair. Through life he knew that Agnes, his own +nurse, had been his mother's constant and faithful attendant; the +unhesitating agent of her schemes, and it was to be feared, from the +remorse she had exhibited, the participator of her crimes; and Ranulph +felt, he knew not why, that in having witnessed her terrible end, he +beheld the ultimate condition of his own parent. Conquering, not without +great effort, the horror which had riveted him to the spot, he turned to +look towards Eleanor. She had sunk upon a chair, a silent witness of the +scene, Mrs. Mowbray and Dr. Small having, upon the first alarm given by +Agnes respecting Lady Rookwood's departure from the house quitted the +room to ascertain the truth of her statement. Ranulph immediately flew +to Eleanor. + +"Ranulph," said she, though almost overcome by her alarm, "stay not an +instant here with me. I am sure, from that poor woman's dreadful death, +that something terrible has occurred, perhaps to Lady Rookwood. Go to +her chamber. Tarry not, I entreat of you." + +"But will you, can you remain here alone with that body?" asked Ranulph. + +"I shall not be alone. Handassah is within call--nay, she is here. Oh, +what an eve of our espousals has this been, dear Ranulph. Our whole life +is a troubled volume, of which each successive leaf grows darker. Fate +is opposed to us. It is useless to contend with our destiny. I fear we +shall never be united." + +"Dismiss me not with words like those, dear Eleanor," returned Ranulph. +"Fate cannot have greater woes in store for us than those by which we +are now opposed. Let us hope that we are now at that point whence all +must brighten. Once possessed of you, assured of thus much happiness, I +would set even fate at defiance. And you will be mine to-morrow." + +"Ranulph, dear Ranulph, your suit at this moment is desperate. I dare +not, cannot pledge myself. You yourself heard, even now, my mother's +sentiments, and I cannot marry without her consent." + +"Your mother, like my own, regards not the feelings of her children. +Forgive my boldness, Eleanor; forgive me if I linger now, when duty +calls me hence; but I cannot tear myself away. Your mother may +return--my hopes be crushed; for even your love for me seems annihilated +in her presence." + +"Ranulph, your vehemence terrifies me," rejoined Eleanor. "I implore +you, by the tender affection which you know I bear you, not to urge me +further at this moment. Recall your firmer feelings, and obtain some +mastery over yourself. I repeat, I am yours only, if I am bride of any +one. But when our union can take place rests not with myself. And now, I +entreat of you, leave me." + +"You are mine," said Ranulph, with fervor; "mine only." + +"Yours only," replied Eleanor. + +"Be this the earnest of my happiness!" exclaimed Ranulph, imprinting a +long and impassioned kiss upon her lips. + +The lovers were startled from their embrace by a profound sigh; it +proceeded from Handassah, who, unbidden, had replaced the picture of the +Lady Eleanor upon its frame. The augury seemed sinister. Every one who +has gazed steadfastly upon a portrait must have noticed the peculiar and +lifelike character which, under certain aspects, the eyes will assume. +Seen by the imperfect light upon the table, the whole character of the +countenance of the Lady Eleanor seemed changed; the features appeared to +be stamped with melancholy, and the eyes to be fixed with pitying +tenderness upon her descendants. Both gazed at each other and at the +picture, struck with the same sentiment of undefined awe. Beside them +stood the dark figure of the gipsy girl, watching, with ill-concealed +satisfaction, the effect of her handiwork. Ranulph was aroused from his +abstraction by hearing a loud outcry in Mrs. Mowbray's voice. Hastily +committing Eleanor to the care of her attendant, he left the room. +Handassah followed him to the door, closed it after him, and then locked +it within side. This done, she walked back hastily towards Eleanor, +exclaiming, in a tone of exultation, "You have parted with him forever." + +"What mean you, girl?" cried Eleanor, alarmed at her manner. "Why have +you fastened the door? Open it, I command you." + +"Command _me_!" laughed Handassah, scornfully. "What if I refuse your +mandate? What, if, in my turn, I bid _you_ obey _me_? I never owned but +one mistress. If I have bowed my neck to you for a time, 'twas to fulfil +her dying wishes. If I have submitted to your control, it was to +accomplish what I have now accomplished. Your oath! Remember your oath. +The hour is come for its fulfilment." + +With these words Handassah clapped her hands. A panel in the wall +opened, and Luke stood suddenly before them. Silently and with stern +deliberation he strode towards Eleanor, and seizing one of her hands, +drew her forcibly towards him. Eleanor resisted not; she had not the +power; neither did she scream, for so paralyzing was her terror, that +for the moment it took away all power of utterance. Luke neither stirred +nor spoke, but, still maintaining his hold, gazed searchingly upon her +features, while Eleanor, as if spell-bound, could not withdraw her eyes +from him. Nothing more terribly impressive could be conceived than +Luke's whole appearance. Harassed and exhausted by the life he had +recently led; deprived almost of natural rest; goaded by remorse, his +frame was almost worn to the bone, while his countenance, once dark and +swarthy, was now blanched and colorless as marble. This pallid and +deathlike hue was, in all probability, owing to the loss of blood he had +sustained from the wound inflicted by Major Mowbray, with the stains of +which his apparel was dyed; for, though staunched, the effusion had been +sufficient to cause great faintness. His dark eyes blazed with their +wonted fire--nay, they looked darker and larger from his exceeding +paleness, and such intense mental and bodily suffering was imprinted +upon his countenance, that, despite its fierceness and desperation, few +could have regarded him without sympathy. Real desperation has so much +of agony in its character, that no one can witness it unmoved. His garb +was not that in which the reader first beheld him, but a rich, dark, +simple suit of velvet, corresponding more with his real rank in life +than his former peasant's attire; but it was disordered by his recent +conflict, and stained with bloody testimonials of the fray; while his +long, sable curls, once his pride and ornament, now hung in intertangled +elf-locks, like a coil of wreathed water-snakes. Even in her terror, as +she dwelt upon his noble features, Eleanor could not help admitting that +she beheld the undoubted descendant, and the living likeness of the +handsomest and most distinguished of her house--the profligate and +criminal Sir Reginald. As her eye, mechanically following this train of +thought, wandered for an instant to the haughty portraiture of Sir +Reginald, which formed part of the family pictures, and thence to those +of his unfortunate lady, she was struck with the fancy that, by some +terrible fatality, the tragic horrors of bygone days were to be again +enacted in their persons, and that they were in some way strangely +identified with their unfortunate progenitors. So forcibly was this idea +impressed upon her features that Luke, who had followed the direction of +her glances, became instantly aware of it. Drawing her nearer to the +portrait of the Lady Eleanor, he traced the resemblance in mute wonder; +thence, turning towards that of Sir Reginald, he proudly exclaimed: "You +doubted once my lineage, maiden--can you gaze on those features, which +would almost seem to be a reflection of mine own, and longer hesitate +whose descendant I am? I glory in my likeness. There is a wild delight +in setting human emotions at naught, which he was said to feel--which I +feel now. Within these halls I seem to breathe an atmosphere congenial +to me. I visit what I oft have visited in my dreams; or as in a state of +pre-existence. Methinks, as I gaze on you, I could almost deem myself +Sir Reginald, and you his bride, the Lady Eleanor. Our fates were +parallel: _she_ was united to her lord by ties of hatred--by a _vow_--_a +bridal vow_! So are you to me. And she could ne'er escape him--could +ne'er throw off her bondage--nor shall you. I claim the fulfilment of +_your_ oath; you are _mine_." + +"Never, never!" shrieked Eleanor, struggling to disengage herself. But +Luke laughed at her feeble efforts. Handassah stood by, a passive +spectatress of the scene, with her arms folded upon her bosom. + +"You refuse compliance," said Luke, scornfully. "Have you no hopes of +Heaven, no fears of perdition, that you dare to violate your vow? +Bethink you of the awful nature of that obligation; of the life that was +laid down to purchase it; of the blood which will cry out for vengeance +'gainst the _murderess_, should you hesitate. By that blood-cemented +sacrament, I claim you as my own. You are mine." And he dragged her +towards the opening. + +Eleanor uttered a long and terrific scream. + +"Be silent, on your life," added he, searching for the dagger given to +him by Alan Rookwood, when, as his hand sought the weapon, Eleanor +escaped from his grasp, and fled towards the door. But Handassah had +anticipated her intention. The key was withdrawn from the lock, and the +wretched maiden vainly tried to open it. + +At this instant Turpin appeared at the sliding panel. + +"Quick, quick!" cried he, impatiently--"despatch, in the devil's name. +The house is alarmed. I hear young Ranulph's voice in the gallery." + +"Ranulph!" shrieked Eleanor--"then I am saved," and she redoubled her +outcries for assistance. + +Luke again seized his victim. Her hands clutched so convulsively fast in +her despairing energy against the handle of the door that he could not +tear her thence. By this time Ranulph Rookwood, who had caught her +reiterated screams for help, was at the entrance. He heard her +struggles; he heard Luke's threats--his mockery--his derisive +laughter--but vainly, vainly did he attempt to force it open. It was of +the strongest oak, and the bolts resisted all his efforts. A board alone +divided him from his mistress. He could hear her sobs and gasps. He saw, +from the action of the handle, with what tenacity she clung to it; and, +stung to frenzy by the sight, he hurled himself against the sturdy +plank, but all in vain. At length the handle was still. There was a +heavy fall upon the floor--a stifled scream--and a sound as of a body +being dragged along. The thought was madness. + +"To the panel! to the panel!" cried a voice--it was that of Turpin--from +within. + +"The panel!--ha!" echoed Ranulph, with a sudden gleam of hope. "I may +yet save her." And he darted along the corridor with the swiftness of +thought. + +Luke, meanwhile, had for some minutes fruitlessly exhausted all his +force to drag Eleanor from the door. Despair gave her strength; she +clutched at the door; but she felt her strength failing her--her grasp +was relaxing. And then the maddening thought that she would be shortly +his--that he would slay her--while the idea that Ranulph was so near, +and yet unable to protect her, added gall even to her bitterness. With +savage delight Luke exulted in the lovers' tortures. He heard Ranulph's +ineffectual attempts; he heard his groans; he heard their mutual cries. +Inflamed by jealousy, he triumphed in his power of vengeance, and even +prolonged the torture which accident had given him the means of +inflicting. He stood like the inquisitor who marks his victim's anguish +on the rack, and calculates his powers of further endurance. But he +could no longer dally, even with this horrible gratification. His +companion grew impatient. Eleanor's fair long tresses had escaped from +their confinement in the struggle, and fell down her neck in disorder. +Twining his fingers amidst its folds, Luke dragged her backwards from +her hold, and, incapable of further resistance, her strength completely +exhausted, the wretched girl fell to the ground. + +Luke now raised her almost inanimate form in his arms, and had nigh +reached the aperture, when a crash was heard in the panel opposite to +that by which he was about to escape, and communicating with a further +apartment. It was thrown open, and Ranulph Rookwood presented himself at +the narrow partition. An exclamation of joy, that he was yet in time, +escaped his lips; and he was about to clear the partition at a bound, +and to precipitate himself upon Luke, when, as suddenly as his own +action, was the person of the unfortunate Mr. Coates wedged into the +aperture. + +"Traitor!" cried Ranulph, regarding Coates with concentrated fury, "dare +you to oppose me?--hence! or, by Heaven, I will cut you down!" + +"'Tis impossible," ejaculated the attorney. "For your own sake, Sir +Ranulph--for my sake--I entreat--implore of you--not to attempt to pass +this way. Try the other door." + +Ranulph said no more. He passed his sword through the body of the +miserable attorney, who, with a deep groan, fell. The only obstacle to +his passage being thus removed, he at once leaped into the room. + +The brothers were now confronted, together, but little of brotherly love +mingled with the glances which they threw upon each other. Ranulph's +gentle, but withal enthusiastic temperament, had kindled, under his +present excitement, like flax at the sudden approach of flame. He was +wild with frenzy. Luke was calmer, but his fury was deadly and +inextinguishable. The meeting was terrible on both sides. + +With one arm Luke enfolded Eleanor, with the other he uplifted the +dagger. Its point was towards her bosom. Scowling grim defiance at +Ranulph, he exclaimed, in a determined tone, "Advance a footstep, and my +dagger descends into her heart." + +Ranulph hesitated, uncertain how to act; foaming with rage, yet +trembling with apprehension. + +"Ranulph," gasped Eleanor, "life without you were valueless. +Advance--avenge me!" + +Ranulph still hesitated. He could not, by any act of his own, compromise +Eleanor's safety. + +Luke saw his advantage, and was not slow to profit by it. "You seal her +destruction if you stir," said he. + +"Villain," returned Ranulph, between his ground teeth, and with +difficulty commanding sufficient coolness to speak with deliberation, +"you perceive your power. Injure her, and nothing earthly shall protect +you. Free her, and take your life and liberty; nay, reward if you will. +You cannot otherwise escape me." + +"Escape you!" laughed Luke, disdainfully. "Stand aside, and let me pass. +Beware," added he, sternly, "how you oppose me. I would not have a +brother's blood upon my soul." + +"Nor I," cried Ranulph; "but you pass not." And he placed himself full +in Luke's path. + +Luke, however, steadily moved forward, holding Eleanor between himself +and Ranulph, so as to shield his own person; but, fancying he saw an +opportunity of dealing a blow without injury to his mistress, the latter +was about to hazard the thrust, when his arms were seized behind, and he +was rendered powerless. + +"Lost, lost," groaned he; "she is lost to me forever!" + +"I fear that's but too true," said Turpin, for it was the highwayman +whose grasp confined Ranulph. + +"Must I see her borne away before my eyes?" cried Ranulph. "Release +me--set me free!" + +"Quite impossible at present," returned Dick. "Mount and away, Sir +Luke," continued he; "never mind me. Leave me to shift for myself." + +"Eleanor!" cried Ranulph, as she passed close by his side. + +"Ranulph!" shrieked Eleanor, with a loud scream, recalled to +consciousness by his voice, "farewell for ever." + +"Ay, for ever," responded Luke, triumphantly. "You meet no more on +earth." + +He was about to pass through the panel, when Eleanor exerted all her +remaining strength in a last futile attempt at liberation. In the +struggle, a packet fell from Luke's bosom. + +Handassah stooped to pick it up. + +"From Sybil!" exclaimed she, glancing at the superscription. + +"Remember my promise to old Barbara," roared Dick, who had some +curiosity, as the reader knows, to learn what the package contained. +"The time is arrived. Eleanor is in your power--in your presence." + +"Give me the packet," said Luke, resigning Eleanor for the instant to +Handassah's custody--"take the steel, and grasp her firmly." + +Handassah, who, though slight of figure, was of singular personal +strength, twined her arms about Miss Mowbray in such a manner as to +preclude all possibility of motion. + +Luke tore open the package. It was a box carefully enclosed in several +folds of linen, and lastly within a sheet of paper, on which were +inscribed these words: + + THE DOWER OF SYBIL + +Hastily, and with much curiosity, Luke raised the lid of the box. It +contained one long silken tress of blackest hair enviously braided. It +was Sybil's. His first impulse was to cast it from him; his next, +reproachfully to raise it to his lips. He started as if a snake had +stung him. + +At this moment a loud clamor was heard in the gallery. In the next, the +door was assailed by violent strokes, evidently proceeding from some +weighty instrument, impelled by the united strength of several +assailants. + +The voice of Turpin rose above the deafening din. "A bullet for the +first who enters," shouted he. "Quick, Sir Luke, and the prize is +safe--away, and----" + +But as he seconded his exhortation with a glance at Luke, he broke off +the half-uttered sentence, and started with horror and amazement. Ere +the cause of his alarm could be expressed, the door was burst open, and +a crowd of domestics, headed by Major Mowbray and Titus Tyrconnel, +rushed into the room. + +"Nay, then, the game's up!" exclaimed Dick; "I have done with Rookwood." +And, springing through the panel, he was seen no more. + +When the newcomers first looked round, they could perceive only two +figures besides themselves--those of the two lovers--Eleanor having +sunk pale, exhausted, and almost senseless, into the arms of Ranulph. +Presently, however, a ghastly object attracted their attention. All +rushed towards it--all recoiled, as soon as they discovered that it was +the lifeless body of Luke Rookwood. His limbs were stiff, like those of +a corpse which has for hours been such; his eyes protruded from their +sockets; his face was livid and blotched. All bespoke, with terrible +certainty, the efficacy of the poison, and the full accomplishment of +Barbara's revenge. + +Handassah was gone. Probably she had escaped ere Turpin fled. At all +events, she was heard of no more at Rookwood. + +It required little to recall the senses of Eleanor. Shortly she revived, +and as she gazed around, and became conscious of her escape, she uttered +exclamations of thanksgiving, and sank into the embraces of her brother. + +Meanwhile, Mrs. Mowbray and Dr. Small had joined the assemblage. + +The worthy doctor had been full of alarm; but his meditated condolences +were now changed to congratulations, as he heard the particulars of the +terrible scene that had occurred, and of Eleanor's singular and almost +providential deliverance. + +"After what has befallen, madam," said the doctor to Mrs. Mowbray, +slightly coughing, "you can no longer raise any objection to a certain +union, eh?" + +"I will answer for my mother in that particular," said Major Mowbray, +stepping forward. + +"She will answer for herself, my son," said Mrs. Mowbray. "The match has +her full and entire consent. But to what am I to attribute the +unexpected happiness of your return?" + +"To a chain of singular circumstances," replied the Major, "which I will +hereafter detail to you. Suffice it to say, that but for this +gentleman's fortunate arrival," added he, looking at Titus Tyrconnel, +"at the hut on Thorne Waste, I might have been detained a prisoner, +without _parole_, and, what is worse, without provision perhaps for +days; and to add to my distress, fully acquainted with the meditated +abduction of my sister. It was excessively lucky for me, Mr. Tyrconnel, +that you happened to pass that way, and for poor Paterson likewise." + +"Arrah, by my sowl, major, and you may say that with safety; and it was +particularly fortunate that we stumbled upon the tits in the cellar, or +we'd never have been here just in the nick of it. I begin to think we've +lost all chance of taking Dick Turpin this time. He's got clean away." + +"I am not sorry for his escape," said the major. "He's a brave fellow; +and I respect courage wherever I find it, even in a highwayman. I should +be sorry to appear as a witness against him; and I trust it will never +be my fate to do so." + +We shall not pause to describe the affectionate meeting which now ensued +between the brother and sister--the congratulations upon Eleanor's +escape from peril, intermingled with the tenderest embraces, and the +warmest thanks offered to Ranulph for his gallant service. "She is +yours, my dear boy," said the major; "and though you are a Rookwood, and +she bears the ill-fated name of Eleanor, I predict that, contrary to the +usual custom of our families in such cases, all your misfortunes will +have occurred _before_ marriage." + +"There is only one thing," said Small, with a very peculiar expression, +which might almost be construed into serio-comic, could we suspect the +benevolent doctor of any such waggery, "that can possibly throw a shade +over our present felicity. Lady Rookwood is not to be found." + +"My poor mother," said Ranulph, starting. + +"Make yourself easy," said the doctor; "I doubt not we shall hear of her +to-morrow. My only apprehension," added he, half aside, "is, that she +may be heard of before." + +"One other circumstance afflicts me," said Ranulph. "Poor Mr. Coates!" + +"What's that you say of Mr. Coates, Sir Ranulph?" exclaimed Titus. + +"I fear he was killed in the recent affray," said Ranulph. "Let some one +search for the body." + +"Kilt!" echoed Titus. "Is it kilt that Mr. Coates is? Ah! _ullagone_, +and is it over with him entirely? Is he gone to rejoin his father, the +thief-taker? Bring me to his remains." + +"He will bring them to you himself," said the attorney, stepping +forward. "Luckily, Sir Ranulph," said the incurable punster, "it was +merely the _outer coats_ that your sword passed through; the _inner_ +remains uninjured, so that you did not act as my _conveyancer_ to +eternity. Body o' me! I've as many lives as a cat--ha, ha!" + +Ranulph welcomed the facetious man of law with no little satisfaction. + +We think it unnecessary to enter into further detail. Another chamber +was prepared for Eleanor's reception, to which she was almost +immediately transported. The remains of the once fierce and haughty +Luke, now stiff and stark, but still wearing, even in death, their proud +character, were placed upon the self-same bier, and covered with the +self-same pall which, but a week ago, had furnished forth his father's +funeral. And as the domestics crowded round the corpse, there was not +one of them but commented upon his startling resemblance to his +grandsire, Sir Reginald; nor, amongst the superstitious, was the falling +of the fatal bough forgotten. + +Tranquillity was at length restored at the hall. Throughout the night +and during the next day, Ranulph made every search for his mother, but +no tidings could be learned of her. Seriously alarmed, he then caused +more strict and general inquiry to be instituted, but with like +unsuccessful effect. It was not, indeed, till some years afterwards that +her fate was ascertained. + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_THE SARCOPHAGUS_ + + So now 'tis ended, like an old wife's story.--WEBSTER. + + +Notwithstanding the obscurity which hung over the fate of Lady Rookwood, +the celebration of the nuptials of Sir Ranulph and Eleanor was not long +delayed; the ceremony took place at the parish church, and the worthy +vicar officiated upon the occasion. It was a joyous sight to all who +witnessed it, and not few were they who did so, for the whole +neighborhood was bidden to the festival. The old avenue was thronged +with bright and beaming faces, rustic maidens decked out in ribbons of +many-colored splendor, and stout youths in their best holiday trim; nor +was the lusty yeoman and his buxom spouse--nor yet the patriarch of the +village, nor prattling child, wanting. Even the ancestral rooks seemed +to participate in the universal merriment, and returned, from their +eyries, a hoarse greeting, like a lusty chorus of laughter, to the +frolic train. The churchyard path was strewn with flowers--the church +itself a complete garland. Never was there seen a blither wedding: the +sun smiled upon the bride--accounted a fortunate omen, as dark lowering +skies and stormy weather had, within the memory of the oldest of the +tenantry, inauspiciously ushered in all former espousals. The bride had +recovered her bloom and beauty, while the melancholy which had seemingly +settled for ever upon the open brow of the bridegroom, had now given +place to a pensive shade that only added interest to his expressive +features; and, as in simple state, after the completion of the sacred +rites, the youthful pair walked, arm in arm, amongst their thronging and +admiring tenants towards the Hall, many a fervent prayer was breathed +that the curse of the house of Rookwood might be averted from their +heads; and, not to leave a doubt upon the subject, we can add that these +aspirations were not in vain, but that the day, which dawned so +brightly, was one of serene and unclouded happiness to its close. + +After the ceremonial, the day was devoted to festivity. Crowded with +company, from the ample hall to the kitchen ingle, the old mansion could +scarce contain its numerous guests, while the walls resounded with +hearty peals of laughter, to which they had been long unaccustomed. The +tables groaned beneath the lordly baron of beef, the weighty chine, the +castled pasty flanked on the one hand with neat's tongue, and on the +other defended by a mountainous ham, an excellent _pice de rsistance_, +and every other substantial appliance of ancient hospitality. Barrels of +mighty ale were broached, and their nut-brown contents widely +distributed, and the health of the bride and bridegroom was +enthusiastically drunk in a brimming wassail cup of spicy wine with +floating toast. Titus Tyrconnel acted as master of the ceremonies, and +was, Mr. Coates declared, "_quite in his element_." So much was he +elated, that he ventured to cut some of his old jokes upon the vicar, +and, strange to say, without incurring the resentment of Small. + +To retrace the darker course of our narrative, we must state that some +weeks before this happy event the remains of the unfortunate Sir Luke +Rookwood had been gathered to those of his fathers. The document that +attested his legitimacy being found upon his person, the claims denied +to him in life were conceded in death; and he was interred, with all the +pomp and peculiar solemnity proper to one of the house, within the tomb +of his ancestry. + +It was then that a discovery was made respecting Alan Rookwood, in order +to explain which we must again revert to the night of the meditated +_enlvement_ of Eleanor. + +After quitting his grandson in the avenue, Alan shaped his course among +the fields in the direction to the church. He sought his own humble, +but now deserted dwelling. The door had been forced; some of its meagre +furniture was removed; and the dog, his sole companion, had fled. "Poor +Mole!" said he, "thou hast found, I trust, a better master." And having +possessed himself of what he came in search--namely, a bunch of keys and +his lantern, deposited in an out-of-the-way cupboard, that had escaped +notice, he quickly departed. + +He was once more within the churchyard; once more upon that awful stage +whereon he had chosen to enact, for a long season, his late fantastical +character; and he gazed upon the church tower, glistening in the +moonshine, the green and undulating hillocks, the "chequered +cross-sticks," the clustered headstones, and the black and portentous +yew-trees, as upon "old familiar faces." He mused, for a few moments, +upon the scene, apparently with deep interest. He then walked beneath +the shadows of one of the yews, chanting an odd stanza or so of one of +his wild staves, wrapped the while, it would seem, in affectionate +contemplation of the subject-matter of his song: + + THE CHURCHYARD YEW + + ---- Metuendaque succo + Taxus. + + STATIUS. + + A noxious tree is the churchyard yew, + As if from the dead its sap it drew; + Dark are its branches, and dismal to see, + Like plumes at Death's latest solemnity. + Spectral and jagged, and black as the wings + Which some spirit of ill o'er a sepulchre flings: + Oh! a terrible tree is the churchyard yew; + Like it is nothing so grimly to view. + + Yet this baleful tree hath a core so sound, + Can nought so tough in the grove be found; + From it were fashioned brave English bows, + The boast of our isle, and the dread of its foes. + For our sturdy sires cut their stoutest staves + From the branch that hung o'er their fathers' graves; + And though it be dreary and dismal to view, + Staunch at the heart is the churchyard yew. + +His ditty concluded, Alan entered the churchyard, taking care to leave +the door slightly ajar, in order to facilitate his grandson's entrance. +For an instant he lingered in the chancel. The yellow moonlight fell +upon the monuments of his race; and, directed by the instinct of hate, +Alan's eye rested upon the gilded entablature of his perfidious brother, +Reginald, and, muttering curses, "not loud but deep," he passed on. +Having lighted his lantern in no tranquil mood, he descended into the +vault, observing a similar caution with respect to the portal of the +cemetery, which he left partially unclosed, with the key in the lock. +Here he resolved to abide Luke's coming. The reader knows what +probability there was of his expectations being realized. + +For a while he paced the tomb, wrapped in gloomy meditation, and +pondering, it might be, upon the result of Luke's expedition, and the +fulfilment of his own dark schemes, scowling from time to time beneath +his bent eyebrows, counting the grim array of coffins, and noticing, +with something like satisfaction, that the shell which contained the +remains of his daughter had been restored to its former position. He +then bethought him of Father Checkley's midnight intrusion upon his +conference with Luke, and their apprehension of a supernatural +visitation, and his curiosity was stimulated to ascertain by what means +the priest had gained admission to the spot unperceived and unheard. He +resolved to sound the floor, and see whether any secret entrance +existed; and hollowly and dully did the hard flagging return the stroke +of his heel as he pursued his scrutiny. At length the metallic ringing +of an iron plate, immediately behind the marble effigy of Sir Ranulph, +resolved the point. There it was that the priest had found access to +the vault; but Alan's disappointment was excessive, when he discovered +that the plate was fastened on the underside, and all communication +thence with the churchyard, or to wherever else it might conduct him, +cut off: but the present was not the season for further investigation, +and tolerably pleased with the discovery he had already made, he +returned to his silent march round the sepulchre. + +At length a sound, like the sudden shutting of the church door, broke +upon the profound stillness of the holy edifice. In the hush that +succeeded, a footstep was distinctly heard threading the aisle. + +"He comes--he comes!" exclaimed Alan, joyfully; adding, an instant +after, in an altered voice, "but he comes alone." + +The footstep drew near to the mouth of the vault--it was upon the +stairs. Alan stepped forward to greet, as he supposed, his grandson, but +started back in astonishment and dismay as he encountered in his stead +Lady Rookwood. Alan retreated, while the lady advanced, swinging the +iron door after her, which closed with a tremendous clang. Approaching +the statue of the first Sir Ranulph, she paused, and Alan then remarked +the singular and terrible expression of her eyes, which appeared to be +fixed upon the statue, or upon some invisible object near it. There was +something in her whole attitude and manner calculated to impress the +deepest terror on the beholder. And Alan gazed upon her with an awe +which momently increased. Lady Rookwood's bearing was as proud and erect +as we have formerly described it to have been--her brow was haughtily +bent--her chiselled lip as disdainfully curled; but the staring, +changeless eye, and the deep-heaved sob which occasionally escaped her, +betrayed how much she was under the influence of mortal terror. Alan +watched her in amazement. He knew not how the scene was likely to +terminate, nor what could have induced her to visit this ghostly spot at +such an hour, and alone; but he resolved to abide the issue in +silence--profound as her own. After a time, however, his impatience got +the better of his fears and scruples, and he spoke. + +"What doth Lady Rookwood in the abode of the dead?" asked he, at length. + +She started at the sound of his voice, but still kept her eye fixed upon +the vacancy. + +"Hast thou not beckoned me hither, and am I not come?" returned she, in +a hollow tone. "And now thou asketh wherefore I am here--I am here +because, as in thy life I feared thee not, neither in death do I fear +thee. I am here because----" + +"What seest thou?" interrupted Peter, with ill-suppressed terror. + +"What see I--ha--ha!" shouted Lady Rookwood, amidst discordant laughter; +"that which might appal a heart less stout than mine--a figure +anguish-writhen, with veins that glow as with a subtle and consuming +flame. A substance yet a shadow, in thy living likeness. Ha--frown if +thou wilt; I can return thy glances." + +"Where dost thou see this vision?" demanded Alan. + +"Where!" echoed Lady Rookwood, becoming for the first time sensible of +the presence of a stranger. "Ha--who are you that question me?--what are +you?--speak!" + +"No matter who or what I am," returned Alan, "I ask you what you +behold." + +"Can you see nothing?" + +"Nothing," replied Alan. + +"You knew Sir Piers Rookwood?" + +"Is it he?" asked Alan, drawing near her. + +"It is," replied Lady Rookwood; "I have followed him hither, and I will +follow him whithersoever he leads me, were it to----" + +"What doth he now?" asked Alan; "do you see him still?" + +"The figure points to that sarcophagus," returned Lady Rookwood--"can +you raise up the lid?" + +"No," replied Alan; "my strength will not avail to lift it." + +"Yet let the trial be made," said Lady Rookwood; "the figure points +there still--my own arm shall aid you." + +Alan watched her in dumb wonder. She advanced towards the marble +monument, and beckoned him to follow. He reluctantly complied. Without +any expectation of being able to move the ponderous lid of the +sarcophagus, at Lady Rookwood's renewed request he applied himself to +the task. What was his surprise, when, beneath their united efforts, he +found the ponderous slab slowly revolve upon its vast hinges, and, with +little further difficulty, it was completely elevated; though it still +required the exertion of all Alan's strength to prop it open, and +prevent its falling back. + +"What does it contain?" asked Lady Rookwood. + +"A warrior's ashes," returned Alan. + +"There is a rusty dagger upon a fold of faded linen," cried Lady +Rookwood, holding down the light. + +"It is the weapon with which the first dame of the house of Rookwood was +stabbed," said Alan, with a grim smile: + + "Which whoso findeth in the tomb + Shall clutch until the hour of doom; + And when 'tis grasped by hand of clay, + The curse of blood shall pass away. + +So saith the rhyme. Have you seen enough?" + +"No," said Lady Rookwood, precipitating herself into the marble coffin. +"That weapon shall be mine." + +"Come forth--come forth," cried Alan. "My arm trembles--I cannot support +the lid." + +"I will have it, though I grasp it to eternity," shrieked Lady Rookwood, +vainly endeavoring to wrest away the dagger, which was fastened, +together with the linen upon which it lay, by some adhesive substance +to the bottom of the shell. + +At this moment Alan Rookwood happened to cast his eye upward, and he +then beheld what filled him with new terror. The axe of the sable statue +was poised above its head, as in the act to strike him. Some secret +machinery, it was evident, existed between the sarcophagus lid and this +mysterious image. But in the first impulse of his alarm Alan abandoned +his hold of the slab, and it sunk slowly downwards. He uttered a loud +cry as it moved. Lady Rookwood heard this cry. She raised herself at the +same moment--the dagger was in her hand--she pressed it against the lid, +but its downward force was too great to be withstood. The light was +within the sarcophagus, and Alan could discern her features. The +expression was terrible. She uttered one shriek and the lid closed for +ever. + +Alan was in total darkness. The light had been enclosed with Lady +Rookwood. There was something so horrible in her probable fate, that +even _he_ shuddered as he thought upon it. Exerting all his remaining +strength, he essayed to raise the lid, but now it was more firmly closed +than ever. It defied all his power. Once, for an instant, he fancied +that it yielded to his straining sinews, but it was only his hand that +slided upon the surface of the marble. It was fixed--immovable. The +sides and lid rang with the strokes which the unfortunate lady bestowed +upon them with the dagger's point; but those sounds were not long heard. +Presently all was still; the marble ceased to vibrate with her blows. +Alan struck the lid with his knuckles, but no response was returned. All +was silent. + +He now turned his attention to his own situation, which had become +sufficiently alarming. An hour must have elapsed, yet Luke had not +arrived. The door of the vault was closed--the key was in the lock, and +on the outside. He was himself a prisoner within the tomb. What if Luke +should _not_ return? What if he were slain, as it might chance, in the +enterprise? That thought flashed across his brain like an electric +shock. None knew of his retreat but his grandson. He might perish of +famine within this desolate vault. + +He checked this notion as soon as it was formed--it was too dreadful to +be indulged in. A thousand circumstances might conspire to detain Luke. +He was sure to come. Yet the solitude--the darkness was awful, almost +intolerable. The dying and the dead were around him. He dared not stir. + +Another hour--an age it seemed to him--had passed. Still Luke came not. +Horrible forebodings crossed him; but he would not surrender himself to +them. He rose, and crawled in the direction, as he supposed, of the +door--fearful, even of the stealthy sound of his own footsteps. He +reached it, and his heart once more throbbed with hope. He bent his ear +to the key; he drew in his breath; he listened for some sound, but +nothing was to be heard. A groan would have been almost music in his +ears. + +Another hour was gone! He was now a prey to the most frightful +apprehensions, agitated in turns by the wildest emotions of rage and +terror. He at one moment imagined that Luke had abandoned him, and +heaped curses upon his head; at the next, convinced that he had fallen, +he bewailed with equal bitterness his grandson's fate and his own. He +paced the tomb like one distracted; he stamped upon the iron plate; he +smote with his hands upon the door; he shouted, and the vault hollowly +echoed his lamentations. But Time's sand ran on, and Luke arrived not. + +Alan now abandoned himself wholly to despair. He could no longer +anticipate his grandson's coming, no longer hope for deliverance. His +fate was sealed. Death awaited him. He must anticipate his slow but +inevitable stroke, enduring all the grinding horrors of starvation. The +contemplation of such an end was madness, but he was forced to +contemplate it now; and so appalling did it appear to his imagination, +that he half resolved to dash out his brains against the walls of the +sepulchre, and put an end at once to his tortures; and nothing, except a +doubt whether he might not, by imperfectly accomplishing his purpose, +increase his own suffering, prevented him from putting this dreadful +idea into execution. His dagger was gone, and he had no other weapon. +Terrors of a new kind now assailed him. The dead, he fancied, were +bursting from their coffins, and he peopled the darkness with grisly +phantoms. They were around about him on each side, whirling and +rustling, gibbering, groaning, shrieking, laughing, and lamenting. He +was stunned, stifled. The air seemed to grow suffocating, pestilential; +the wild laughter was redoubled; the horrible troop assailed him; they +dragged him along the tomb, and amid their howls he fell, and became +insensible. + +When he returned to himself, it was some time before he could collect +his scattered faculties; and when the agonizing consciousness of his +terrible situation forced itself upon his mind, he had nigh relapsed +into oblivion. He arose. He rushed towards the door; he knocked against +it with his knuckles till the blood streamed from them; he scratched +against it with his nails till they were torn off by the roots. With +insane fury he hurled himself against the iron frame; it was in vain. +Again he had recourse to the trap-door. He searched for it; he found it. +He laid himself upon the ground. There was no interval of space in which +he could insert a finger's point. He beat it with his clenched hand; he +tore it with his teeth; he jumped upon it; he smote it with his heel. +The iron returned a sullen sound. + +He again essayed the lid of the sarcophagus. Despair nerved his +strength. He raised the slab a few inches. He shouted, screamed, but no +answer was returned; and again the lid fell. + +"She is dead!" cried Alan. "Why have I not shared her fate? But mine is +to come. And such a death!--oh, oh!" And, frenzied at the thought, he +again hurried to the door, and renewed his fruitless attempts to +escape, till nature gave way, and he sank upon the floor, groaning and +exhausted. + +Physical suffering now began to take the place of his mental tortures. +Parched and consumed with a fierce internal fever, he was tormented by +unappeasable thirst--of all human ills the most unendurable. His tongue +was dry and dusty, his throat inflamed; his lips had lost all moisture. +He licked the humid floor; he sought to imbibe the nitrous drops from +the walls; but, instead of allaying his thirst, they increased it. He +would have given the world, had he possessed it, for a draught of cold +spring-water. Oh, to have died with his lips upon some bubbling +fountain's marge! But to perish thus----! + +Nor were the pangs of hunger wanting. He had to endure all the horrors +of famine, as well as the agonies of quenchless thirst. + +In this dreadful state three days and nights passed over Alan's fated +head. Nor night nor day had he. Time, with him, was only measured by its +duration, and that seemed interminable. Each hour added to his +suffering, and brought with it no relief. During this period of +prolonged misery reason often tottered on her throne. Sometimes he was +under the influence of the wildest passions. He dragged coffins from +their recesses, hurled them upon the ground, striving to break them open +and drag forth their loathsome contents. Upon other occasions he would +weep bitterly and wildly; and once--only once--did he attempt to pray; +but he started from his knees with an echo of infernal laughter, as he +deemed, ringing in his ears. Then, again, would he call down +imprecations upon himself and his whole line, trampling upon the pile of +coffins he had reared; and lastly, more subdued, would creep to the +boards that contained the body of his child, kissing them with a frantic +outbreak of affection. + +At length he became sensible of his approaching dissolution. To him the +thought of death might well be terrible, but he quailed not before it, +or rather seemed, in his latest moments, to resume all his wonted +firmness of character. Gathering together his remaining strength, he +dragged himself towards the niche wherein his brother, Sir Reginald +Rookwood, was deposited, and placing his hand upon the coffin, solemnly +exclaimed, "My curse--my dying curse--be upon thee evermore!" + +Falling with his face upon the coffin, Alan instantly expired. In this +attitude his remains were discovered. + + + + +_L'ENVOY_ + + +Our tale is told. Yet, perhaps, we may be allowed to add a few words +respecting two of the subordinate characters of our drama--melodrama we +ought to say--namely Jerry Juniper and the knight of Malta. What became +of the Caper Merchant's son after his flight from Kilburn Wells we have +never been able distinctly to ascertain. Juniper, however, would seem to +be a sort of Wandering Jew, for certain it is, that _somebody very like +him_ is extant still, and to be met with at Jerry's old haunts; indeed, +we have no doubt of encountering him at the ensuing meetings of Ascot +and Hampton. + +As regards the knight of Malta--Knight of _Roads_--"Rhodes"--he should +have been--we are sorry to state that the career of the Ruffler +terminated in a madhouse, and thus the poor knight became in reality a +_Hospitaller_! According to the custom observed in those establishments, +the knight was deprived of his luxuriant locks, and the loss of his +beard rendered his case incurable; but, in the mean time, the barber of +the place made his fortune by retailing the materials of all the black +wigs he could collect to the impostor's dupes. + +Such is the latest piece of intelligence that has reached us of the +_Arch-hoaxer_ of Canterbury! + +Turpin--why disguise it?--was hanged at York in 1739. His firmness +deserted him not at the last. When he mounted the fatal tree his left +leg trembled; he stamped it impatiently down, and, after a brief chat +with the hangman, threw himself suddenly and resolutely from the ladder. +His sufferings would appear to have been slight: as he himself sang, + + He died, not as other men, by _degrees_, + But _at once_, without wincing, and quite at his ease! + +We may, in some other place, lay before the reader the particulars--and +they are not incurious--of the "night before Larry was stretched." + +The remains of the vagrant highwayman found a final resting-place in the +desecrated churchyard of Saint George, without the Fishergate postern, a +green and grassy cemetery, but withal a melancholy one. A few recent +tombs mark out the spots where some of the victims of the pestilence of +1832-33 have been interred; but we have made vain search for Turpin's +grave--unless--as is more than probable--the plain stone with the simple +initials R. T. belongs to him. + +The gyves by which he was fettered are still shown at York Castle, and +are of prodigious weight and strength; and though the herculean robber +is said to have moved in them with ease, the present turnkey was +scarcely able to lift the ponderous irons. An old woman of the same city +has a lock of hair, said to have been Turpin's, which she avouches her +grandfather cut off from the body after the execution, and which the +believers look upon with great reverence. O rare Dick Turpin! + +We shall, perhaps, be accused of dilating too much upon the character of +the highwayman, and we plead guilty to the charge. But we found it +impossible to avoid running a little into extremes. Our earliest +associations are connected with sunny scenes in Cheshire, said to have +been haunted by Turpin; and with one very dear to us--from whose lips, +now, alas! silent, we have listened to many stories of his exploits--he +was a sort of hero. We have had a singular delight in recounting his +feats and hairbreadth escapes; and if the reader derives only half as +much pleasure from the perusal of his adventures as we have had in +narrating them, our satisfaction will be complete. Perhaps, we may have +placed him in too favorable a point of view--and yet we know not. As +upon those of more important personages, many doubts rest upon his +history. Such as we conceive him to have been, we have drawn him--hoping +that the benevolent reader, upon finishing our Tale, will arrive at the +same conclusion; and, in the words of the quaint old Prologue to the +Prince of Prigs' Revels, + + ------------Thank that man, + Can make each thief a complete Roscian! + + + + +NOTES + + +[1] See the celebrated recipe for the Hand of Glory in "_Les Secrets du +Petit Albert_." + +[2] The seven planets, so called by Mercurius Trismegistus. + +[3] Payne Knight, the scourge of Repton and his school, speaking of the +license indulged in by the modern landscape-gardeners, thus vents his +indignation: + + But here, once more, ye rural muses weep + The ivy'd balustrade, and terrace steep; + Walls, mellowed into harmony by time, + On which fantastic creepers used to climb; + While statues, labyrinths, and alleys pent + Within their bounds, at least were innocent!-- + _Our modern taste--alas!--no limit knows; + O'er hill, o'er dale, through wood and field it flows; + Spreading o'er all its unprolific spawn, + In never-ending sheets of vapid lawn._ + + _The Landscape, a didactic Poem, + addressed to Uvedale Price, Esq._ + +[4] Mason's English Garden. + +[5] Cowley. + +[6] Query, Damocles?--_Printer's Devil._ + +[7] James Hind--the "Prince of Prigs"--a royalist captain of some +distinction, was hanged, drawn, and quartered, in 1652. Some good +stories are told of him. He had the credit of robbing Cromwell, +Bradshaw, and Peters. His discourse to Peters is particularly edifying. + +[8] See Du-Val's life by Doctor Pope, or Leigh Hunt's brilliant sketch +of him in _The Indicator_. + +[9] We cannot say much in favor of this worthy, whose name was Thomas +Simpson. The reason of his _sobriquet_ does not appear. He was not +particularly scrupulous as to his mode of appropriation. One of his +sayings is, however, on record. He told a widow whom he robbed, "that +the end of a woman's husband begins in tears, but the end of her tears +is another husband." "Upon which," says his chronicler, "the gentlewoman +gave him about fifty guineas." + +[10] Tom was a sprightly fellow, and carried his sprightliness to the +gallows; for just before he was turned off he kicked Mr. Smith, the +ordinary, and the hangman out of the cart--a piece of pleasantry which +created, as may be supposed, no small sensation. + +[11] Many agreeable stories are related of Holloway. His career, +however, closed with a murder. He contrived to break out of Newgate but +returned to witness the trial of one of his associates; when, upon the +attempt of a turnkey, one Richard Spurling, to seize him, Will knocked +him on the head in the presence of the whole court. For this offence he +suffered the extreme penalty of the law in 1712. + +[12] Wicks's adventures with Madame Toly are highly diverting. It was +this hero--not Turpin, as has been erroneously stated--who stopped the +celebrated Lord Mohun. Of Gettings and Grey, and "the five or six," the +less said the better. + +[13] One of Jack's recorded _mots_. When a Bible was pressed upon his +acceptance by Mr. Wagstaff, the chaplain, Jack refused it, saying, "that +in his situation one file would be worth all the Bibles in the world." A +gentleman who visited Newgate asked him to dinner; Sheppard replied, +"that he would take an early opportunity of waiting upon him." And we +believe he kept his word. + +[14] The word Tory, as here applied, must not be confounded with the +term of party distinction now in general use in the political world. It +simply means a thief on a grand scale, something more than "a snapper-up +of unconsidered trifles," or petty-larceny rascal. We have classical +authority for this:--TORY: "An advocate for absolute monarchy; _also, an +Irish vagabond, robber, or rapparee_."--GROSE'S _Dictionary_. + +[15] A trio of famous High-Tobygloaks. Swiftneck was a captain of +_Irish_ dragoons, by-the-bye. + +[16] REDMOND O'HANLON was the Rob Roy of Ireland, and his adventures, +many of which are exceedingly curious, would furnish as rich _materials_ +for the novelist, as they have already done for the ballad-mongers: some +of them are, however, sufficiently well narrated in a pleasant little +tome, published at Belfast, entitled _The History of the Rapparees_. We +are also in possession of a funeral discourse, preached at the obsequies +of the "noble and renowned" Henry St. John, Esq., who was unfortunately +killed by the _Tories_--the _Destructives_ of those days--in the +induction to which we find some allusion to Redmond. After describing +the thriving condition of the north of Ireland, about 1680, the Rev. +Lawrence Power, the author of the sermon, says, "One mischief there was, +which indeed in a great measure destroyed all, and that was a pack of +insolent bloody outlaws, whom they here call _Tories_. These had so +riveted themselves in these parts, that by the interest they had among +the natives, and some English, too, _to their shame be it spoken_, they +exercise a kind of separate sovereignty in three or four counties in the +north of Ireland. REDMOND O'HANLON is their chief, and has been these +many years; a cunning, dangerous fellow, who, though proclaimed an +outlaw with the rest of his crew, and sums of money set upon their +heads, yet he reigns still, and keeps all in subjection, so far that +'tis credibly reported _he raises more in a year by contributions +-la-mode de France than the king's land taxes and chimney-money come +to, and thereby is enabled to bribe clerks and officers_, IF NOT THEIR +MASTERS, (!) _and makes all too much truckle to him_." Agitation, it +seems, was not confined to our own days--but the "finest country in the +world" has been, and ever will be, the same. The old game is played +under a new color--the only difference being, that had Redmond lived in +our time, he would, in all probability, not only have pillaged a county, +but _represented_ it in parliament. The spirit of the Rapparee is still +abroad--though we fear there is little of the _Tory_ left about it. We +recommend this note to the serious consideration of the declaimers +against the sufferings of the "six millions." + +[17] Here Titus was slightly in error. He mistook the cause for the +effect. "They were called Rapparees," Mr. Malone says, "from being armed +with a half-pike, called by the Irish a _rapparee_."--TODD'S JOHNSON. + +[18] _Tory_, so called from the Irish word _Toree_, give me your +money.--TODD'S JOHNSON. + +[19] As he was carried to the gallows, Jack played a fine tune of his +own composing on the bagpipe, which retains the name of Macpherson's +tune to this day.--_History of the Rapparees_. + +[20] "Notwithstanding he was so great a rogue, Delany was a handsome, +portly man, extremely diverting in company, and could behave himself +before gentlemen very agreeably. _He had a political genius_--not +altogether surprising in so eminent a _Tory_--and would have made great +proficiency in learning if he had rightly applied his time. He composed +several songs, and put tunes to them; and by his skill in music gained +the favor of some of the leading musicians in the country, who +endeavored to get him reprieved."--_History of the Rapparees_. The +particulars of the _Songster's_ execution are singular:--"When he was +brought into court to receive sentence of death, the judge told him that +he was informed he should say 'that there was not a rope in Ireland +sufficient to hang him. But,' says he, 'I'll try if Kilkenny can't +afford one strong enough to do your business; and if that will not do, +you shall have another, and another.' Then he ordered the sheriff to +choose a rope, and Delany was ordered for execution the next day. The +sheriff having notice of his mother's boasting that no rope could hang +her son--and pursuant to the judge's desire--provided two ropes, but +Delany broke them one after the other! The sheriff was then in a rage, +and went for three bed-cords, which he plaited threefold together, _and +they did his business_! Yet the sheriff was afraid he was not dead; and +in a passion, to make trial, stabbed him with his sword in the soles of +his feet, and at last cut the rope. After he was cut down, his body was +carried into the courthouse, where it remained in the coffin for two +days, standing up, till the judge and all the spectators were fully +satisfied that he was stiff and dead, and then permission was given to +his friends to remove the corpse and bury it."-_History of the +Rapparees_. + +[21] Highwaymen, as contradistinguished from footpads. + +[22] Since Mr. Coates here avows himself the writer of this diatribe +against Sir Robert Walpole, attacked under the guise of _Turpin_ in the +_Common Sense_ of July 30, 1737, it is useless to inquire further into +its authorship. And it remains only to refer the reader to the _Gents. +Mag._, vol. vii. p. 438, for the article above quoted; and for a reply +to it from the _Daily Gazetteer_ contained in p. 499 of the same volume. + +[23] In reference to this imaginary charm, Sir Thomas Browne observes, +in his "Vulgar Errors." "What natural effects can reasonably be +expected, when, to prevent the Ephialtes, or Nightmare, we hang a hollow +stone in our stables?" Grose also states, "that a stone with a hole in +it, hung at the bed's head, will prevent the nightmare, and is therefore +called a hag-stone." The belief in this charm still lingers in some +districts, and maintains, like the horse-shoe affixed to the barn-door, +a feeble stand against the superstition-destroying "march of intellect." + +[24] Brown's Pastorals. + +[25] The Merry Beggars. + +[26] The parties to be wedded find out a dead horse, or any other beast, +and standing one on the one side, and the other on the other, the +patrico bids them live together till death do them part; and so shaking +hands, the wedding dinner is kept at the next alehouse they stumble +into, where the union is nothing but knocking of cannes, and the sauce, +none but drunken brawles.--DEKKAR. + +[27] Receiver. + +[28] Memoirs, of the right villainous John Hall, the famous, and +notorious Robber, penned from his Mouth some Time before his Death, +1708. + +[29] A famous highwayman. + +[30] A real gentleman. + +[31] Breeches and boots. + +[32] Gipsy flask. + +[33] How he exposes his pistols. + +[34] For an account of these, see Grose. They are much too _gross_ to be +set down here. + +[35] "The shalm, or shawm, was a wind instrument, like a pipe, with a +swelling protuberance in the middle."--_Earl of Northumberland's +Household Book_. + +[36] Perhaps the most whimsical laws that were ever prescribed to a gang +of thieves were those framed by William Holliday, one of the prigging +community, who was hanged in 1695: + +Art. I. directs--That none of his company should presume to wear shirts, +upon pain of being cashiered. + +II.--That none should lie in any other places than stables, empty +houses, or other bulks. + +III.--That they should eat nothing but what they begged, and that they +should give away all the money they got by cleaning boots among one +another, for the good of the fraternity. + +IV.--That they should neither learn to read nor write, that he may have +them the better under command. + +V.--That they should appear every morning by nine, on the parade, to +receive necessary orders. + +VI.--That none should presume to follow the scent but such as he ordered +on that party. + +VII.--That if any one gave them shoes or stockings, they should convert +them into money to play. + +VIII.--That they should steal nothing they could not come at, for fear +of bringing a scandal upon the company. + +IX.--That they should cant better than the Newgate birds, pick pockets +without bungling, outlie a Quaker, outswear a lord at a gaming-table, +and brazen out all their villainies beyond an Irishman. + +[37] Cell. + +[38] Newgate. + +[39] A woman whose husband has been hanged. + +[40] A dancing-master. + +[41] "Nothing, comrades; on, on," supposed to be addressed by a thief to +his confederates. + +[42] Thus Victor Hugo, in "Le Dernier Jour d'un Condamn," makes an +imprisoned felon sing: + + "J'le ferai danser une danse + O il n'y a pas de plancher." + +[43] Thieves in prison. + +[44] Shoplifter. + +[45] Pickpocket. + +[46] Handkerchiefs. + +[47] Rings. + +[48] To the pawnbroker. + +[49] Snuff-boxes. + +[50] Pickpocket. + +[51] The two forefingers used in picking a pocket. + +[52] Pickpocket. + +[53] Pick a pocket. + +[54] No inside coat-pocket; buttoned up. + +[55] Scissors. + +[56] Steal a pocket-book. + +[57] Best-made clothes. + +[58] Thief. + +[59] With my hair dressed in the first fashion. + +[60] With several rings on my hands. + +[61] Seals. + +[62] Gold watch. + +[63] Laced shirt. + +[64] Gentlemanlike. + +[65] Easily than forged notes could I pass. + +[66] Favorite mistress. + +[67] Police. + +[68] Taken at length. + +[69] Cast for transportation. + +[70] Fetters. + +[71] Turnkey. + +[72] Gipsy. + +[73] Pickpockets. + +[74] This song describes pretty accurately the career of an +extraordinary individual, who, in the lucid intervals of a half-crazed +understanding, imposed himself upon the credulous inhabitants of +Canterbury, in the year 1832, as a certain "SIR WILLIAM PERCY HONEYWOOD +COURTENAY, KNIGHT OF MALTA;" and contrived--for there was considerable +"method in his madness"--to support the deception during a long period. +The anachronism of his character in a tale--the data of which is nearly +a century back--will, perhaps, be overlooked, when it is considered of +how much value, in the illustration of "wise saws," are "_modern +instances_." Imposture and credulity are of all ages; and the Courtenays +of the nineteenth are rivalled by the Tofts and Andrs of the eighteenth +century. The subjoined account of the _soi-disant_ SIR WILLIAM COURTENAY +is extracted from "An Essay on his Character, and Reflections on his +Trial," published at the theatre of his exploits: "About Michaelmas last +it was rumored that an extraordinary man was staying at the Rose Inn of +this city--Canterbury--who passed under the name of Count Rothschild, +but had been recently known in London by the name of Thompson! This +would have been sufficient to excite attention, had no other incidents +materially added to the excitement. His costume and countenance denoted +foreign extraction, while his language and conversation showed that he +was well acquainted with almost every part of this kingdom. He was said +to live with singular frugality, notwithstanding abundant samples of +wealth, and professions of an almost unlimited command of money. He +appeared to study retirement, if not concealment, although subsequent +events have proved that society of every grade, beneath the middle +class, is the element in which he most freely breathes. _He often decked +his person with a fine suit of Italian clothing, and sometimes with the +more gay and imposing costume of the Eastern nations; yet these foreign +habits were for months scarcely visible beyond the limits of the inn of +his abode, and the chapel not far from it, in which he was accustomed to +offer his Sabbath devotions._ This place was the first to which he made +a public and frequent resort; and though he did not always attempt to +advance towards the uppermost seat in the synagogue, he attracted +attention from the mere singularity of his appearance. + +"Such was the eccentric, incongruous individual who surprised our city +by proposing himself as a third candidate for its representation, and +who created an entertaining contest for the honor, long after the +sitting candidates had composed themselves to the delightful vision of +an inexpensive and unopposed return. The notion of representing the city +originated beyond all doubt in the fertile brain of the man himself. It +would seem to have been almost as sudden a thought in his mind, as it +was a sudden and surprising movement in the view of the city; nor have +we been able to ascertain whether his sojourn at the Rose was the cause +or the effect of his offering to advocate our interests in +Parliament--whether he came to the city with that high-minded purpose, +or subsequently formed the notion, when he saw, or thought he saw, an +opening for a stranger of enterprise like himself. + + * * * * * + +"As the county election drew on, we believe between the nomination on +Barham Downs and the voting in the cattle market of the city, the +draught of a certain handbill was sent to a printer of this city, with a +request that he would publish it without delay. Our readers will not be +surprised that he instantly declined the task; but as we have obtained +possession of the copy, and its publication can now do no injury to any +one, we entertain them with a sight of this delectable sample of +Courtenay prudence and politeness. + +"'O yes! O yes! O yes! I, Lord Viscount William Courtenay, of Powderham +Castle, Devon, do hereby proclaim Sir Thomas Tylden, Sir Brook Brydges, +Sir Edward Knatchbull, and Sir William Cosway, four cowards, unfit to +represent, or to assist in returning members of Parliament to serve the +brave men of Kent. + +"'Percy Honeywood Courtenay, of Hales and Evington Place, Kent, and +Knight of Malta. + +"'Any gentleman desiring to know the reasons why Lord Courtenay so +publicly exposes backbiters, any man of honor shall have satisfaction at +his hands, and in a public way, according to the laws of our land--trial +by combat; when the Almighty God, the Lord of Hosts is his name, can +decide the "truth," whether it is a libel or not. I worship truth as my +God, and will die for it--and upon this we will see who is strongest, +God or man.' + +"It is a coincidence too curious to be overlooked, that this doughty +champion of _truth_ should so soon have removed himself from public life +by an act of deliberate and wanton perjury. We never read any of his +rhapsodies, periodical or occasional, till the publication of this essay +imposed the self-denying task upon us; but now we find that they abound +in strong and solemn appeals to the _truth_; in bold proclamations that +_truth_ is his palladium; in evidences that he writes and raves, that he +draws his sword and clenches his fist, that he expends his property and +the property of others committed to his hands, in no cause but that of +_truth_! His famous periodical contains much vehement declamation in +defence of certain doctrines of religion, which he terms the truth of +the sublime system of Christianity, and for which alone he is content to +live, and also willing to die. All who deviate from his standard of +truth, whether theological or moral, philosophical or political, he +appears to consider as neither fit for life nor death. Now it is a +little strange, his warmest followers being witness, that such an +advocate of truth should have become the willing victim of falsehood, +the ready and eager martyr of the worst form of falsehood--perjury. + +"The decline of his influence between the city and county elections has +been partly attributed, and not without reason, to the sudden change in +his appearance from comparative youth to advancing, if not extreme age. +_On the hustings of the city he shone forth in all the dazzling lustre +of an Oriental chief; and such was the effect of gay clothing on the +meridian of life, that his admirers, especially of the weaker sex, would +insist upon it that he had not passed the beautiful spring-time of May. +There were, indeed, some suspicious appearances of a near approach to +forty, if not two or three years beyond it; but these were fondly +ascribed to his foreign travels in distant and insalubrious climes; he +had acquired his duskiness of complexion, and his strength of feature +and violence of gesture, and his profusion of beard, in Egypt and Syria, +in exploring the catacombs of the one country, and bowing at the shrines +of the other. On the other hand, the brilliancy of his eye, the melody +of his voice, and the elasticity of his muscles and limbs, were +sufficient arguments in favor of his having scarcely passed the limit +that separates manhood from youth._ + +"All doubts on these points were removed, when the crowd of his fair +admirers visited him at the retirement of his inn, and the intervals of +his polling. These _sub-Rosa_ interviews--we allude to the name of the +inn, and not to anything like privacy there, which the very place and +number of the visitors altogether precluded--convinced them that he was +even a younger and lovelier man than his rather boisterous behavior in +the hall would allow them to hope. In fact, he was now installed by +acclamation _Knight of Canterbury as well as Malta, and King of Kent as +well as Jerusalem_! It became dangerous then to whisper a syllable of +suspicion against his wealth or rank, his wisdom or beauty; and all who +would not bow down before this golden image were deemed worthy of no +better fate than Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego--to be cast into a +burning fiery furnace." + +As a sequel to the above story, it may be added that the knight of Malta +became the inmate of a lunatic asylum; and on his liberation was shot at +the head of a band of Kentish hinds, whom he had persuaded that he was +the Messiah! + +[75] A pipe of tobacco. + +[76] A drink composed of beer, eggs, and brandy. + +[77] The supposed malignant influence of this plant is frequently +alluded to by our elder dramatists; and with one of the greatest of +them, Webster--as might be expected from a muse revelling like a ghoul +in graves and sepulchres--it is an especial favorite. But none have +plunged so deeply into the subject as Sir Thomas Browne. He tears up the +fable root and branch. Concerning the danger ensuing from eradication of +the mandrake, the learned physician thus writes: "The last assertion is, +that there follows a hazard of life to them that pull it up, that some +evil fate pursues them, and that they live not very long hereafter. +Therefore the attempt hereof among the ancients was not in ordinary way; +but, as Pliny informeth, when they intended to take up the root of this +plant, they took the wind thereof, and with a sword describing three +circles about it, they digged it up, looking toward the west. A conceit +not only injurious unto truth and confutable by daily experience, but +somewhat derogatory unto the providence of God; that is, not only to +impose so destructive a quality on any plant, but to conceive a +vegetable whose parts are so useful unto many, should, in the only +taking up, prove mortal unto any. This were to introduce a second +forbidden fruit, and enhance the first malediction, making it not only +mortal for Adam to taste the one, but capital for his posterity to +eradicate or dig up the other."--_Vulgar Errors_, book ii. c. vi. + +[78] The moon. + +[79] Light. + +[80] Highwayman. + +[81] "Cherry-colored--black; there being black cherries as well as +red."--GROSE. + +[82] Sword. + +[83] Pistols. + +[84] Highway robbery. + +[85] Pocket-book. + +[86] Money. + +[87] Bullets. + +[88] The gallows. + +[89] Ditto. + +[90] Pocket-book. + +[91] Inside coat-pocket. + +[92] A small pocket-book. + +[93] We have heard of a certain gentleman tobyman, we forget his name, +taking the horses from his curricle for a similar purpose, but we own we +think King's the simpler plan, and quite practicable still. A cabriolet +would be quite out of the question, but particularly easy to _stop_. + +[94] Four celebrated highwaymen, all rejoicing in the honorable +distinction of captain. + +[95] The exact spot where Turpin committed this robbery, which has often +been pointed out to us, lies in what is now a woody hollow, though once +the old road from Altringham to Knutsford skirting the rich and sylvan +domains of Dunham, and descending the hill that brings you to the bridge +crossing the little river Bollin. With some difficulty we penetrated +this ravine. It is just the place for an adventure of the kind. A small +brook wells through it; and the steep banks are overhung with timber, +and were, when we last visited the place, in April, 1834, a perfect nest +of primroses and wild flowers. Hough (pronounced Hoo) Green lies about +three miles across the country--the way Turpin rode. The old +Bowling-green is one of the pleasantest inns in Cheshire. + +[96] Money. + +[97] Man. + +[98] Stripped. + +[99] Fellow. + +[100] A particular kind of pugilistic punishment. + +[101] Kept each an eye upon the other. + +[102] Hands. + +[103] Deceive them. + +[104] Accomplice. + +[105] A farthing. + +[106] Cards. + +[107] Qy. _lite_.--PRINTER'S DEVIL. + +[108] Shoot him. + +[109] Since the earlier editions of this Romance were published, we +regret to state--for to _us_, at least, it is matter of regret, though +probably not to the travellers along the Edgeware Road--that this gentle +ascent has been cut through, and the fair prospect from its brow utterly +destroyed. + +[110] This, we regret to say, is not the case. The memory of bold Will +Davies, the "_Golden Farmer_"--so named from the circumstances of his +always paying his rent in gold,--is fast declining upon his peculiar +domain, Bagshot. The inn, which once bore his name, still remains to +point out to the traveller the dangers his forefathers had to encounter +in crossing this extensive heath. Just beyond this house the common +spreads out for miles on all aides in a most gallop-inviting style; and +the passenger, as he gazes from the box of some flying coach, as we have +done, upon the gorse-covered waste, may, without much stretch of fancy, +imagine he beholds Will Davies careering like the wind over its wild and +undulating expanse. We are sorry to add that the "_Golden_ Farmer" has +altered its designation to the "_Jolly_ Farmer." This should be amended; +and when next we pass that way, we hope to see the original sign +restored. We cannot afford to lose our _golden_ farmers. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rookwood, by William Harrison Ainsworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROOKWOOD *** + +***** This file should be named 23564-8.txt or 23564-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/5/6/23564/ + +Produced by Afra Ullah, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Rookwood + +Author: William Harrison Ainsworth + +Release Date: November 20, 2007 [EBook #23564] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROOKWOOD *** + + + + +Produced by Afra Ullah, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<p class="hd1">"The immortal Ainsworth." <i>Thackeray.</i></p> + + +<p class="hd2"><big>NOVELS</big></p> + +<h2 class="htitle"><small>BY</small><br /><br /> + +WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 90px; margin-top: 4em;"> +<img src="images/001.png" width="90" height="22" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h1><i>ROOKWOOD</i></h1> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 90px; margin-bottom: 4em;"> +<img src="images/002.png" width="90" height="22" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 15em;"> +"Gives a vivid picture of the times<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">and places with which he dealt."</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;"><i>The New York Herald.</i></span></div> + + +<p class="hd3">THE RITTENHOUSE PRESS<br /> +PHILADELPHIA</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 365px;"> +<img src="images/003.jpg" style="border: solid 2px;" width="365" height="550" alt="" title="" /> +DICK TURPIN CLEARS HORNSEY TOLL-GATE</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"><small>PRINTED IN U.S.A. BY ARRANGEMENT WITH</small><br /> +GEORGE BARRIE'S SONS</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="trans1"><p class="trnhd">Transcriber's Note</p> + +<p>Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. +Archaic and dialect spellings have been retained. +Greek text appears as originally printed, but with a mouse-hover transliteration, <span title="taphos">ταφος</span>.</p> + +<p>A table of contents, though not present in the original publication, +has been provided below:</p> + + +<ul> +<li><a href="#MEMOIR">MEMOIR</a></li> +<li><a href="#TO_MY_MOTHER">TO MY MOTHER</a></li> +<li><a href="#PREFACE">PREFACE</a></li> +<li><a href="#BOOK_I">BOOK I—THE WEDDING RING</a><ul class="toc"> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_I1">The Vault</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_II1">The Skeleton Hand</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_III1">The Park</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IV1">The Hall</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_V1">Sir Reginald Rookwood</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VI1">Sir Piers Rookwood</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VII1">The Return</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII1">An Irish Adventurer</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IX1">An English Adventurer</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_X1">Ranulph Rookwood</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XI1">Lady Rookwood</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XII1">The Chamber of Death</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII1">The Brothers</a></li></ul></li> + + +<li><a href="#BOOK_II">BOOK II—THE SEXTON</a><ul class="toc"> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_I2">The Storm</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_II2">The Funeral Oration</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_III2">The Churchyard</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IV2">The Funeral</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_V2">The Captive</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VI2">The Apparition</a></li></ul></li> + +<li><a href="#BOOK_III">BOOK III—THE GIPSY</a><ul class="toc"> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_I3">A Morning Ride</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_II3">A Gipsy Encampment</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_III3">Sybil</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IV3">Barbara Lovel</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_V3">The Inauguration</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VI3">Eleanor Mowbray</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VII3">Mrs. Mowbray</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII3">The Parting</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IX3">The Philter</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_X3">Saint Cyprian's Cell</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XI3">The Bridal</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XII3">Alan Rookwood</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII3">Mr. Coates</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV3">Dick Turpin</a></li></ul></li> + +<li><a href="#BOOK_IV">BOOK IV—THE RIDE TO YORK</a><ul class="toc"> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_I4">The Rendezvous at Kilburn</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_II4">Tom King</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_III4">A Surprise</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IV4">The Hue and Cry</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_V4">The Short Pipe</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VI4">Black Bess</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VII4">The York Stage</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII4">Roadside Inn</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IX4">Excitement</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_X4">The Gibbet</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XI4">The Phantom Steed</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XII4">Cawood Ferry</a></li></ul></li> + +<li><a href="#BOOK_V">BOOK V—THE OATH</a><ul class="toc"> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_I5">The Hut on Thorne Waste</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_II5">Major Mowbray</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_III5">Handassah</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IV5">The Dower of Sybil</a></li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_V5">The Sarcophagus</a></li></ul></li> + +<li><a href="#LENVOY">L'ENVOY</a></li> + +<li><a href="#NOTES">NOTES</a></li> +</ul></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="MEMOIR" id="MEMOIR"></a><i>MEMOIR</i></h2> + + +<p>William Harrison Ainsworth was born in King Street, Manchester, +February 4, 1805, in a house that has long since been +demolished. His father was a solicitor in good practice, and +the son had all the advantages that educational facilities could +afford. He was sent to the Manchester grammar-school, and +in one of his early novels has left an interesting and accurate +picture of its then condition, which may be contrasted with +that of an earlier period left by the "English opium-eater." +At sixteen, a brilliant, handsome youth, with more taste for +romance and the drama than for the dry details of the law, +he was articled to a leading solicitor of Manchester. The +closest friend of his youth was a Mr. James Crossley, who was +some years older, but shared his intellectual taste and literary +enthusiasm. A drama written for private theatricals, in his +father's house was printed in <i>Arliss's Magazine</i>, and he +also contributed to the <i>Manchester Iris</i>, the <i>Edinburgh +Magazine</i>, and the <i>London Magazine</i>. He even started a +periodical, which received the name of <i>The Bœotian</i>, and +died at the sixth number. Many of the fugitive pieces of +these early days were collected in volumes now exceedingly +rare: "December Tales" (London, 1823), which is not +wholly from his pen; the "Works of Cheviot Tichburn"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span> +(London, 1822; Manchester, 1825), dedicated to Charles +Lamb; and "A Summer Evening Tale" (London, 1825).</p> + +<p>"Sir John Chiverton" appeared in 1826, and for forty +years was regarded as one of his early works; but Mr. John +Partington Aston has also claimed to be its author. In all +probability, both of these young men joined in the production +of the novel which attracted the attention of Sir Walter Scott. +On the death of his father, in 1824, Ainsworth went to London +to finish his legal education, but whatever intentions he may +have formed of humdrum study and determined attention to +the details of a profession in which he had no interest, were +dissipated by contact with the literary world of the metropolis. +He made the acquaintance of Mr. John Ebers, who at +that time combined the duties of manager of the Opera +House with the business of a publisher. He it was who issued +"Sir John Chiverton," and the verses forming its dedication +are understood to have been addressed to Anne Frances +("Fanny") Ebers, whom Ainsworth married October 11, +1826. Ainsworth had then to decide upon a career, and, +acting upon the suggestion of Ebers, his father-in-law, he +began business as a publisher; but after an experience of +about eighteen months he abandoned it. In this brief interval +he introduced the Hon. Mrs. Norton, and Ude, the cook, to +the discerning though unequal admiration of the British +public. He was introduced to Sir Walter Scott, who wrote +the "Bonnets of Bonnie Dundee" for an annual issued by +him. Ainsworth gave him twenty guineas for it, which Sir +Walter accepted, but laughingly handed over to the little +daughter of Lockhart, in whose London house they had met. +Ainsworth's literary aspirations still burned with undiminished<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span> +ardor, and several plans were formed only to be abandoned, +and when, in the summer of 1830, he visited Switzerland and +Italy, he was as far as ever from the fulfilment of his desires. +In 1831 he visited Chesterfield and began the novel of +"Rookwood," in which he successfully applied the method +of Mrs. Radcliffe to English scenes and characters. The +finest passage is that relating Turpin's ride to York, which is +a marvel of descriptive writing. It was written, apparently +in a glow of inspiration, in less than a day and a half. "The +feat," he says, "for feat it was, being the composition of a +hundred novel pages in less than twenty-four hours, was +achieved at 'The Elms,' a house I then occupied at Kilburn." +The success of "Rookwood" was marked and immediate. +Ainsworth at a bound reached popularity. This was in 1834, +and in 1837 he published "Crichton," which is a fine piece +of historical romance. The critics who had objected to the +romantic glamor cast over the career of Dick Turpin were +still further horrified at the manner in which that vulgar +rascal, Jack Sheppard, was elevated into a hero of romance. +The outcry was not entirely without justification, nor was it +without effect on the novelist, who thenceforward avoided this +perilous ground. "Jack Sheppard" appeared in <i>Bentley's +Miscellany</i>, of which Ainsworth became editor in March, +1840, at a monthly salary of £51. The story is powerfully +written. In 1841 he received £1000 from the <i>Sunday Times</i> +for "Old St. Paul's," and he, in 1848, had from the same +source another £1000 for the "Lancashire Witches." In +1841 he began the publication of <i>Ainsworth's Magazine</i>, +which came to an end in 1853, when he acquired the <i>New +Monthly Magazine</i>, which he edited for many years. This<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span> +was the heyday of Ainsworth's reputation alike in literature +and in society. His home at Kensal Manor House became +famous for its hospitality, and Dickens, Thackeray, Landseer, +Clarkson Stanfield, Talfourd, Jerrold, and Cruikshank were +among his guests. The list of his principal historical novels, +with their dates of issue, may now be given: "Rookwood," +1834; "Crichton," 1837; "Jack Sheppard," 1839; "Tower +of London," 1840; "Guy Fawkes," 1841; "Old St. Paul's, +a Tale of the Plague and the Fire of London," 1841; +"Windsor Castle," 1843; "St. James, or the Court of +Queene Anne," 1844; "Star Chamber," 1854; "Constable +of the Tower," 1861; "The Lord Mayor of London," 1862; +"Cardinal Pole," 1863; "John Law, the Projector," 1864; +"The Constable de Bourbon," 1866; "Talbot Harland," +1870; "Boscobel," 1872; "The Manchester Rebels, or the +Fatal '45," 1873; and "The Goldsmith's Wife," 1874. +These novels all met with a certain amount of success, but +those of later years did not attain the striking popularity of +his earlier efforts. Many have been translated into various +modern languages, and the editions of his various works are +so numerous that some twenty-three pages of the British +Museum catalogue are devoted to his works. The scenery +and history of his native country had a perennial interest for +him, and a certain group of his novels—that is, the "Lancashire +Witches," "Guy Fawkes," "The Manchester Rebels," +etc.—may almost be said to form a novelist's history of Lancashire +from the pilgrimage of grace until the early part of +the present century.</p> + +<p>Probably no more vivid account has been written of the +great fire and plague of London than that given in "Old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span> +St. Paul's." The charm of Ainsworth's novels is not at all +dependent upon the analysis of motives or subtle description +of character. Of this he has little or nothing, but he realizes +vividly a scene or an incident, and conveys the impression +with great force and directness to the reader's mind. Ainsworth +came upon the reading world at a happy moment. +People were weary of the inanities of the fashionable novel, +and were ready to listen to one who had a power of vivacious +narrative. In 1881, when he was in his seventy-seventh year, +a pleasant tribute of respect and admiration was paid to him +in his native town. The Mayor of Manchester entertained +him at a banquet in the town hall September 15, 1881, "as +an expression of the high esteem in which he is held by +his fellow-townsmen and of his services to literature." In +proposing Mr. Ainsworth's health, the mayor gave a curious +instance of the popularity of his writings. "In our Manchester +public free libraries there are two hundred and fifty +volumes of Mr. Ainsworth's different works. During the last +twelve months these volumes have been read seven thousand +six hundred and sixty times, mostly by the artisan class of +readers. And this means that twenty volumes of his works +are being perused in Manchester by readers of the free +libraries every day all the year through." It was well that +this pleasant recognition was not longer delayed. The contrast +was pathetically great between the tall, handsome, dandified +figure presented in the portraits of him by Pickersgill +and Maclise, and the bent and feeble old man who stood by +and acknowledged the plaudits of those who had assembled +to honor him. His last published work was "Stanley Brereton," +which he dedicated to his hospitable entertainer. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[xii]</a></span> +died at Reigate January 3, 1882, leaving a widow and also +three daughters by his first marriage. He was buried at +Kensal Green Cemetery. With the exception of George +Gleig, he was the last survivor of the brilliant group who +wrote for the early numbers of <i>Fraser's Magazine</i>, and, +though he died in harness, had outlived nearly all the associates +of the days when he first achieved fame.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="TO_MY_MOTHER" id="TO_MY_MOTHER"></a><i>TO MY MOTHER</i></h2> + + +<p>When I inscribed this Romance to you, my dear Mother, +on its first appearance, I was satisfied that, whatever reception +it might meet with elsewhere, at your hands it would be sure +of indulgence. Since then, the approbation your partiality +would scarcely have withheld has been liberally accorded by +the public; and I have the satisfaction of reflecting, that in +following the dictates of affection, which prompted me to +select the dearest friend I had in the world as the subject of +a dedication, I have not overstepped the limits of prudence; +nor, in connecting your honored name with this trifling production, +involved you in a failure which, had it occurred, +would have given you infinitely more concern than myself. +After a lapse of three years, during which my little bark, +fanned by pleasant and prosperous breezes, has sailed, more +than once, securely into port, I again commit it to the waters, +with more confidence than heretofore, and with a firmer +reliance that, if it should be found "after many days," it +may prove a slight memorial of the warmest filial regard.</p> + +<p>Exposed to trials of no ordinary difficulty, and visited by +domestic affliction of no common severity, you, my dear +Mother, have borne up against the ills of life with a fortitude +and resignation which those who know you best can best +appreciate, but which none can so well understand, or so +thoroughly appreciate, as myself. Suffering is the lot of all. +Submission under the dispensation is permitted to few. And +it is my fervent hope that my own children may emulate your +virtues, if they are happily spared your sorrows.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">[xvii]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a><i>PREFACE</i></h2> + + +<p>During a visit to Chesterfield, in the autumn of the year +1831, I first conceived the notion of writing this story. +Wishing to describe, somewhat minutely, the trim gardens, +the picturesque domains, the rook-haunted groves, the gloomy +chambers, and gloomier galleries, of an ancient Hall with +which I was acquainted, I resolved to attempt a story in the +bygone style of Mrs. Radcliffe,—which had always inexpressible +charms for me,—substituting an old English squire, an old +English manorial residence, and an old English highwayman, +for the Italian marchese, the castle, and the brigand of the +great mistress of Romance.</p> + +<p>While revolving this subject, I happened, one evening, to +enter the spacious cemetery attached to the church with the +queer, twisted steeple, which, like the uplifted tail of the renowned +Dragon of Wantley, to whom "houses and churches +were as capons and turkeys," seems to menace the good town +of Chesterfield with destruction. Here an incident occurred, +on the opening of a vault, which it is needless to relate, but +which supplied me with a hint for the commencement of my +romance, as well as for the ballad entitled "The Coffin." +Upon this hint I immediately acted; and the earlier chapters +of the book, together with the description of the ancestral +mansion of the Rookwoods, were completed before I quitted +Chesterfield.</p> + +<p>Another and much larger portion of the work was written +during a residence at Rottingdean, in Sussex, in the latter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">[xviii]</a></span> +part of 1833, and owes its inspiration to many delightful +walks over the South Downs. Romance-writing was pleasant +occupation then.</p> + +<p>The Ride to York was completed in one day and one night. +This feat—for a feat it was, being the composition of a hundred +ordinary novel pages in less than twenty-four hours—was +achieved at "The Elms," a house I then occupied at Kilburn. +Well do I remember the fever into which I was thrown +during the time of composition. My pen literally scoured +over the pages. So thoroughly did I identify myself with the +flying highwayman, that, once started, I found it impossible +to halt. Animated by kindred enthusiasm, I cleared every +obstacle in my path with as much facility as Turpin disposed +of the impediments that beset his flight. In his company, I +mounted the hill-side, dashed through the bustling village, +swept over the desolate heath, threaded the silent street, +plunged into the eddying stream, and kept an onward course, +without pause, without hindrance, without fatigue. With him +I shouted, sang, laughed, exulted, wept. Nor did I retire to +rest till, in imagination, I heard the bell of York Minster toll +forth the knell of poor Black Bess.</p> + +<p>The supernatural occurrence, forming the groundwork of +one of the ballads which I have made the harbinger of doom +to the house of Rookwood, is ascribed, by popular superstition, +to a family resident in Sussex; upon whose estate the +fatal tree—a gigantic lime, with mighty arms and huge girth +of trunk, as described in the song—is still carefully preserved. +Cuckfield Place, to which this singular piece of timber is +attached, is, I may state, for the benefit of the curious, the +real Rookwood Hall; for I have not drawn upon imagination, +but upon memory, in describing the seat and domains of that +fated family. The general features of the venerable structure, +several of its chambers, the old garden, and, in particular, the +noble park, with its spreading prospects, its picturesque views +of the Hall, "like bits of Mrs. Radcliffe,"—as the poet Shelley<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xix" id="Page_xix">[xix]</a></span> +once observed of the same scene,—its deep glades, through +which the deer come lightly tripping down, its uplands, +slopes, brooks, brakes, coverts, and groves, are carefully +delineated.</p> + +<p>The superstition of a fallen branch affording a presage of +approaching death is not peculiar to the family I have mentioned. +Many other old houses have been equally favored: +in fact, there is scarcely an ancient family in the kingdom +without a boding sign. For instance, the Breretons of Brereton, +in Cheshire, were warned by the appearance of stocks of +trees floating, like the swollen bodies of long-drowned men, +upon the surface of a sombre lake—called Blackmere, from +the inky color of its waters—adjoining their residence; and +numerous other examples might be given. The death-presage +of the Breretons is alluded to by Drayton in the "<i>Polyolbion</i>."</p> + +<p>It has been well observed by Barry Cornwall, "that the +songs which occur in dramas are more natural than those +which proceed from the author in person." With equal force +does the reasoning apply to the romance, which may be +termed the drama of the closet. It would seem strange, on +a first view, that an author should be more at home in an +assumed character than his own. But experience shows the +position to be correct. Conscious he is no longer individually +associated with his work, the writer proceeds with all +the freedom of irresponsibility. His idiosyncrasy is merged +in that of the personages he represents. He thinks with their +thoughts, sees with their eyes, speaks with their tongues. His +strains are such as he himself—<i>per se</i>—would not, perhaps +could not, have originated. In this light he may be said to +bring to his subject not one mind, but several; he becomes +not one poet, but many; for each actor in his drama has a +share, and an important share, in the lyrical <i>estro</i> to which +he gives birth. This it is which has imparted any verve, +variety, or dramatic character they possess, to the ballads +contained in this production. Turpin I look upon as the real<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xx" id="Page_xx">[xx]</a></span> +songster of "Black Bess;" to Jerry Juniper I am unquestionably +indebted for a flash melody which, without his hint, +would never have been written, while to the sexton I owe the +solitary gleam of light I have been enabled to throw upon the +horrors and mystery of the churchyard.</p> + +<p>As I have casually alluded to the flash song of Jerry Juniper, +I may, perhaps, be allowed to make a few observations upon +this branch of versification. It is somewhat curious, with a +dialect so racy, idiomatic, and plastic as our own cant, that +its metrical capabilities should have been so little essayed. +The French have numerous <i>chansons d'argot</i>, ranging from +the time of Charles Bourdigné and Villon down to that of +Vidocq and Victor Hugo, the last of whom has enlivened the +horrors of his "<i>Dernier Jour d'un Condamné</i>" by a festive +song of this class. The Spaniards possess a large collection +of <i>Romances de Germania</i>, by various authors, amongst whom +Quevedo holds a distinguished place. We, on the contrary, +have scarcely any slang songs of merit. With a race of depredators +so melodious and convivial as our highwaymen, this is +the more to be wondered at. Had they no bards amongst +their bands? Was there no minstrel at hand to record their +exploits? I can only call to mind one robber who was a +poet,—Delany, and <i>he</i> was an Irishman. This barrenness, I +have shown, is not attributable to the poverty of the soil, but +to the want of due cultivation. Materials are at hand in +abundance, but there have been few operators. Dekker, +Beaumont and Fletcher, and Ben Jonson have all dealt +largely in this jargon, but not lyrically; and one of the +earliest and best specimens of a canting-song occurs in +Brome's "<i>Jovial Crew</i>;" and in the "<i>Adventures of Bamfylde +Moore Carew</i>" there is a solitary ode, addressed by the +mendicant fraternity to their newly-elected monarch; but it +has little humor, and can scarcely be called a genuine canting-song. +This ode brings us down to our own time; to the +effusions of the illustrious Pierce Egan; to Tom Moore's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxi" id="Page_xxi">[xxi]</a></span> +Flights of "<i>Fancy</i>;" to John Jackson's famous chant, "<i>On +the High Toby Spice Flash the Muzzle</i>," cited by Lord Byron +in a note to "<i>Don Juan</i>;" and to the glorious Irish ballad, +worth them all put together, entitled "<i>The Night Before +Larry Was Stretched</i>." This facetious performance is attributed +to the late Dean Burrowes, of Cork. It is worthy of +note that almost all modern aspirants to the graces of the +<i>Musa Pedestris</i> are Irishmen. Of all rhymesters of the +"<i>Road</i>," however, Dean Burrowes is, as yet, most fully entitled +to the laurel. Larry is quite "the potato!"</p> + +<p>And here, as the candidates are so few, and their pretensions +so humble,</p> + +<p class="hd4">I can't help putting in my claim for praise.</p> + +<p>I venture to affirm that I have done something more than +has been accomplished by my predecessors, or contemporaries, +with the significant language under consideration. I have +written a purely flash song, of which the great and peculiar +merit consists in its being utterly incomprehensible to the +uninformed understanding, while its meaning must be perfectly +clear and perspicuous to the practised <i>patterer</i> of +<i>Romany</i>, or <i>Pedlar's French</i>. I have, moreover, been the +first to introduce and naturalize amongst us a measure which, +though common enough in the Argotic minstrelsy of France, +has been hitherto utterly unknown to our <i>pedestrian</i> poetry. +Some years afterwards, the song alluded to, better known under +the title of "<i>Nix My Dolly, Pals,—Fake Away!</i>" sprang into +extraordinary popularity, being set to music by Rodwell, and +chanted by glorious Paul Bedford and clever little Mrs. Keeley.</p> + +<p>Before quitting the subject of these songs, I may mention +that they probably would not have been written at all if one +of the earliest of them—a chance experiment—had not excited +the warm approbation of my friend, Charles Ollier, author +of the striking romance of "Ferrers." This induced me to +prosecute the vein accidentally opened.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxii" id="Page_xxii">[xxii]</a></span></p> + +<p>Turpin was the hero of my boyhood. I had always a +strange passion for highwaymen, and have listened by the +hour to their exploits, as narrated by my father, and especially +to those of "Dauntless Dick," that "chief minion of +the moon." One of Turpin's adventures in particular, the +ride to Hough Green, which took deep hold of my fancy, I +have recorded in song. When a boy, I have often lingered +by the side of the deep old road where this robbery was committed, +to cast wistful glances into its mysterious windings; +and when night deepened the shadows of the trees, have +urged my horse on his journey, from a vague apprehension of +a visit from the ghostly highwayman. And then there was +the Bollin, with its shelvy banks, which Turpin cleared at a +bound; the broad meadows over which he winged his flight; +the pleasant bowling-green of the pleasant old inn at Hough, +where he produced his watch to the Cheshire squires, with +whom he was upon terms of intimacy; all brought something +of the gallant robber to mind. No wonder, in after-years, in +selecting a highwayman for a character in a tale, I should +choose my old favorite, Dick Turpin.</p> + +<p>In reference to two of the characters here introduced, and +drawn from personages living at the time the tale was written, +it may be mentioned that poor Jerry Juniper met his death +from an accident at Chichester, while he was proceeding to +Goodwood races; and that the knight of Malta,—Mr. Tom, a +brewer of Truro, the self-styled Sir William Courtenay, who +played the strange tricks at Canterbury chronicled in a song +given in these pages,—after his release from Banning Heath +Asylum, was shot through the head while leading on a mob of +riotous Kentish yeomen, whom he had persuaded that he was +the Messiah!</p> + +<p>If the design of Romance be, what it has been held, the +exposition of a useful truth by means of an interesting story, +I fear I have but imperfectly fulfilled the office imposed upon +me; having, as I will freely confess, had, throughout, an eye<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxiii" id="Page_xxiii">[xxiii]</a></span> +rather to the reader's amusement than his edification. One +wholesome moral, however, may, I trust, be gathered from +the perusal of this Tale; namely, that, without due governance +of the passions, high aspirations and generous emotions +will little avail their possessor. The impersonations of the +Tempter, the Tempted, and the Better Influence may be +respectively discovered, by those who care to cull the honey +from the flower, in the Sexton, in Luke, and in Sybil.</p> + +<p>The chief object I had in view in making the present essay +was to see how far the infusion of a warmer and more genial +current into the veins of old Romance would succeed in reviving +her fluttering and feeble pulses. The attempt has succeeded +beyond my most sanguine expectation. Romance, if +I am not mistaken, is destined shortly to undergo an important +change. Modified by the German and French +writers—by Hoffman, Tieck, Hugo, Dumas, Balzac, and Paul +Lecroix (<i>le Bibliophile Jacob</i>)—the structure commenced in +our own land by Horace Walpole, Monk Lewis, Mrs. Radcliffe, +and Maturin, but left imperfect and inharmonious, +requires, now that the rubbish which choked up its approach +is removed, only the hand of the skilful architect to its entire +renovation and perfection.</p> + +<p>And now, having said my say, I must bid you, worthy +reader, farewell. Beseeching you, in the words of old Rabelais, +"to interpret all my sayings and doings in the perfectest +sense. Reverence the cheese-like brain that feeds you with +all these jolly maggots; and do what lies in you to keep me +always merry. Be frolic now, my lads! Cheer up your +hearts, and joyfully read the rest, with all ease of your body, +and comfort of your reins."</p> + + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Kensal Manor-House</span>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>December 15, 1849</i>.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<h2 class="htitle"><big>ROOKWOOD</big></h2> + + + + +<h2><a name="BOOK_I" id="BOOK_I"></a>BOOK I</h2> + + +<h3>THE WEDDING RING</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>It has been observed, and I am apt to believe it is an observation +which will generally be found true, that before a terrible truth comes to +light, there are certain murmuring whispers fly before it, and prepare +the minds of men for the reception of the truth itself.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><span style="margin-right: 3em;"><i>Gallick Reports:</i></span><br /> +<i>Case of the Count Saint Geran.</i></p> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I1" id="CHAPTER_I1"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>THE VAULT</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let me know, therefore, fully the intent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this thy dismal preparation—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This talk fit for a charnel.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Webster.</span></p></div> + + +<p>Within a sepulchral vault, and at midnight, two persons +were seated. The chamber was of singular construction and +considerable extent. The roof was of solid stone masonry, and +rose in a wide semicircular arch to the height of about seventeen +feet, measured from the centre of the ceiling to the ground +floor, while the sides were divided by slight partition-walls into +ranges of low, narrow catacombs. The entrance to each cavity +was surrounded by an obtusely-pointed arch, resting upon +slender granite pillars; and the intervening space was filled up +with a variety of tablets, escutcheons, shields, and inscriptions, +recording the titles and heraldic honors of the departed. +There were no doors to the niches; and within might be seen +piles of coffins, packed one upon another, till the floor groaned +with the weight of lead. Against one of the pillars, upon a +hook, hung a rack of tattered, time-out-of-mind hatchments; +and in the centre of the tomb might be seen the effigies of Sir +Ranulph de Rokewode, the builder of the mausoleum, and the +founder of the race who slept within its walls. This statue, +wrought in black marble, differed from most monumental +carved-work, in that its posture was erect and lifelike. Sir +Ranulph was represented as sheathed in a complete suit of +mail, decorated with his emblazoned and gilded surcoat, his +arm leaning upon the pommel of a weighty curtal-axe. The +attitude was that of stern repose. A conically-formed helmet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +rested upon the brow; the beaver was raised, and revealed +harsh but commanding features. The golden spur of knighthood +was fixed upon the heel; and, at the feet, enshrined in +a costly sarcophagus of marble, dug from the same quarry as +the statue, rested the mortal remains of one of "the sternest +knights to his mortal foe that ever put speare in the rest."</p> + +<p>Streaming in a wavering line upon the roof, the sickly flame +of a candle partially fell upon the human figures before alluded +to, throwing them into darkest relief, and casting their opaque +and fantastical shadows along the ground. An old coffin upon +a bier, we have said, served the mysterious twain for a seat. +Between them stood a bottle and a glass, evidences that whatever +might be the ulterior object of their stealthy communion, +the immediate comfort of the creature had not been altogether +overlooked. At the feet of one of the personages were laid a +mattock, a horn lantern—from which the candle had been removed—, +a crowbar, and a bunch of keys. Near to these +implements of a vocation which the reader will readily surmise, +rested a strange superannuated terrier with a wiry back +and frosted muzzle; a head minus an ear, and a leg wanting +a paw. His master, for such we shall suppose him, was an old +man with a lofty forehead, covered with a singularly shaped +nightcap, and clothed, as to his lower limbs, with tight, ribbed, +gray worsted hose, ascending externally, after a bygone fashion, +considerably above the knee. The old man's elbow rested +upon the handle of his spade, his wrist supported his chin, +and his gray glassy eyes, glimmering like marsh-meteors in +the candle-light, were fixed upon his companion with a glance +of searching scrutiny.</p> + +<p>The object of his investigation, a much more youthful and +interesting person, seemed lost in reverie, and alike insensible +to time, place, and the object of the meeting. With both +hands grasped round the barrel of a fowling-piece, and his face +leaning upon the same support, the features were entirely concealed +from view; the light, too, being at the back, and shedding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +its rays over, rather than upon his person, aided his disguise. +Yet, even thus imperfectly defined, the outline of the head, +and the proportions of the figure, were eminently striking and +symmetrical. Attired in a rough forester's costume, of the +mode of 1737, and of the roughest texture and rudest make, +his wild garb would have determined his rank as sufficiently +humble in the scale of society, had not a certain loftiness of +manner, and bold, though reckless deportment, argued pretensions +on the part of the wearer to a more elevated station +in life, and contradicted, in a great measure, the impression +produced by the homely appearance of his habiliments. A +cap of shaggy brown fur, fancifully, but not ungracefully fashioned, +covered his head, from beneath which, dropping, in +natural clusters over his neck and shoulders, a cloud of raven +hair escaped. Subsequently, when his face was more fully revealed, +it proved to be that of a young man, of dark aspect, +and grave, melancholy expression of countenance, approaching +even to the stern, when at rest; though sufficiently animated +and earnest when engaged in conversation, or otherwise excited. +His features were regular, delicately formed, and might be +characterized as singularly handsome, were it not for a want +of roundness in the contour of the face which gave the lineaments +a thin, worn look, totally distinct, however, from haggardness +or emaciation. The nose was delicate and fine; the +nostril especially so; the upper lip was short, curling, graceful, +and haughtily expressive. As to complexion, his skin had a +truly Spanish warmth and intensity of coloring. His figure, +when raised, was tall and masculine, and though slight, exhibited +great personal vigor.</p> + +<p>We will now turn to his companion, the old man with the +great gray glittering eyes. Peter Bradley, of Rookwood—comitatû +Ebor—, where he had exercised the vocation of sexton +for the best part of a life already drawn out to the full span +ordinarily allotted to mortality, was an odd caricature of +humanity. His figure was lean, and almost as lank as a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +skeleton. His bald head reminded one of a bleached skull, +allowing for the overhanging and hoary brows. Deep-seated, +and sunken within their sockets, his gray orbs gleamed with +intolerable lustre. Few could endure his gaze; and, aware of +his power, Peter seldom failed to exercise it. He had likewise +another habit, which, as it savored of insanity, made him +an object of commiseration with some, while it rendered him +yet more obnoxious to others. The habit we allude to, was +the indulgence of wild screaming laughter at times when all +merriment should be checked; and when the exhibition of +levity must proceed from utter disregard of human grief and +suffering, or from mental alienation.</p> + +<p>Wearied with the prolonged silence, Peter at length condescended +to speak. His voice was harsh and grating as a rusty +hinge.</p> + +<p>"Another glass?" said he, pouring out a modicum of the +pale fluid.</p> + +<p>His companion shook his head.</p> + +<p>"It will keep out the cold," continued the sexton, pressing +the liquid upon him: "and you, who are not so much accustomed +as I am to the damps of a vault, may suffer from them. +Besides," added he, sneeringly, "it will give you courage."</p> + +<p>His companion answered not. But the flash of his eye +resented the implied reproach.</p> + +<p>"Nay, never stare at me so hard, Luke," continued the +sexton; "I doubt neither your courage nor your firmness. +But if you won't drink, I will. Here's to the rest eternal of +Sir Piers Rookwood! You'll say amen to that pledge, or you +are neither grandson of mine, nor offspring of his loins."</p> + +<p>"Why should I reverence his memory," answered Luke, bitterly, +refusing the proffered potion, "who showed no fatherly +love for me? He disowned <i>me</i> in life: in death I disown <i>him</i>. +Sir Piers Rookwood was no father of mine."</p> + +<p>"He was as certainly your father, as Susan Bradley, your +mother, was my daughter," rejoined the sexton.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And, surely," cried Luke, impetuously, "<i>you</i> need not +boast of the connection! 'Tis not for you, old man, to couple +their names together—to exult in your daughter's disgrace +and your own dishonor. Shame! shame! Speak not of them +in the same breath, if you would not have me invoke curses on +the dead! <i>I</i> have no reverence—whatever <i>you</i> may have—for +the seducer—for the murderer of my mother."</p> + +<p>"You have choice store of epithets, in sooth, good grandson," +rejoined Peter, with a chuckling laugh. "Sir Piers a +murderer!"</p> + +<p>"Tush!" exclaimed Luke, indignantly, "affect not ignorance. +You have better knowledge than I have of the truth +or falsehood of the dark tale that has gone abroad respecting +my mother's fate; and unless report has belied you foully, had +substantial reasons for keeping sealed lips on the occasion. +But to change this painful subject," added he, with a sudden +alteration of manner, "at what hour did Sir Piers Rookwood +die?"</p> + +<p>"On Thursday last, in the night-time. The exact hour I +know not," replied the sexton.</p> + +<p>"Of what ailment?"</p> + +<p>"Neither do I know that. His end was sudden, yet not +without a warning sign."</p> + +<p>"What warning?" inquired Luke.</p> + +<p>"Neither more nor less than the death-omen of the house. +You look astonished. Is it possible you have never heard of +the ominous Lime-Tree, and the Fatal Bough? Why, 'tis a +common tale hereabouts, and has been for centuries. Any old +crone would tell it you. Peradventure, you <i>have</i> seen the old +avenue of lime-trees leading to the hall, nearly a quarter of a +mile in length, and as noble a row of timber as any in the West +Riding of Yorkshire. Well, there is one tree—the last on the +left hand before you come to the clock-house—larger than all +the rest—a huge piece of timber, with broad spreading branches, +and of I know not what girth in the trunk. That tree is, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +some mysterious manner, connected with the family of Rookwood, +and immediately previous to the death of one of that +line, a branch is sure to be shed from the parent stem, prognosticating +his doom. But you shall hear the legend." And +in a strange sepulchral tone, not inappropriate, however, to his +subject, Peter chanted the following ballad:</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE LEGEND OF THE LIME-TREE</p> + + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 33em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Amid the grove o'er-arched above with lime-trees old and tall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—The avenue that leads unto the Rookwood's ancient hall—,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High o'er the rest its towering crest one tree rears to the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wide out-flings, like mighty wings, its arms umbrageously.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Seven yards its base would scarce embrace—a goodly tree I ween,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With silver bark, and foliage dark, of melancholy green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mid its boughs two ravens house, and build from year to year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their black brood hatch—their black brood watch—then screaming disappear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In that old tree when playfully the summer breezes sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its leaves are stirred, and there is heard a low and plaintive cry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when in shrieks the storm blast speaks its reverend boughs among,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad wailing moans, like human groans, the concert harsh prolong.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But whether gale or calm prevail, or threatening cloud hath fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By hand of Fate, predestinate, a limb that tree will shed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A verdant bough—untouched, I trow, by axe or tempest's breath—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Rookwood's head an omen dread of fast-approaching death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some think that tree instinct must be with preternatural power.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like 'larum bell Death's note to knell at Fate's appointed hour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While some avow that on its bough are fearful traces seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red as the stains from human veins, commingling with the green.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Others, again, there are maintain that on the shattered bark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A print is made, where fiends have laid their scathing talons dark;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, ere it falls, the raven calls thrice from that wizard bough;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that each cry doth signify what space the Fates allow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In olden days, the legend says, as grim Sir Ranulph view'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wretched hag her footsteps drag beneath his lordly wood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His bloodhounds twain he called amain, and straightway gave her chase;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was never seen in forest green, so fierce, so fleet a race!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With eyes of flame to Ranulph came each red and ruthless hound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While mangled, torn—a sight forlorn!—the hag lay on the ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en where she lay was turned the clay, and limb and reeking bone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the earth, with ribald mirth, by Ranulph grim were thrown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And while as yet the soil was wet with that poor witch's gore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lime-tree stake did Ranulph take, and pierced her bosom's core;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, strange to tell, what next befell!—that branch at once took root,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And richly fed, within its bed, strong suckers forth did shoot.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From year to year fresh boughs appear—it waxes huge in size;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with wild glee, this prodigy Sir Ranulph grim espies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One day, when he, beneath that tree, reclined in joy and pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A branch was found upon the ground—the next, Sir Ranulph died!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And from that hour a fatal power has ruled that Wizard Tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Ranulph's line a warning sign of doom and destiny:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For when a bough is found, I trow, beneath its shade to lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere suns shall rise thrice in the skies a Rookwood sure shall die!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"And such an omen preceded Sir Piers's demise?" said +Luke, who had listened with some attention to his grandsire's +song.</p> + +<p>"Unquestionably," replied the sexton. "Not longer ago +than Tuesday morning, I happened to be sauntering down +the avenue I have just described. I know not what took me +thither at that early hour, but I wandered leisurely on till I +came nigh the Wizard Lime-Tree. Great Heaven! what a +surprise awaited me! a huge branch lay right across the path. +It had evidently just fallen, for the leaves were green and unwithered; +the sap still oozed from the splintered wood; and +there was neither trace of knife nor hatchet on the bark. I +looked up among the boughs to mark the spot from whence it +had been torn by the hand of Fate—for no human hand had +done it—and saw the pair of ancestral ravens perched amid +the foliage, and croaking as those carrion fowl are wont to +do when they scent a carcass afar off. Just then a livelier +sound saluted my ears. The cheering cry of a pack of +hounds resounded from the courts, and the great gates being +thrown open, out issued Sir Piers, attended by a troop of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +roystering companions, all on horseback, and all making the +welkin ring with their vociferations. Sir Piers laughed as +loudly as the rest, but his mirth was speedily checked. No +sooner had his horse—old Rook, his favorite steed, who never +swerved at stake or pale before—set eyes upon the accursed +branch, than he started as if the fiend stood before him, and, +rearing backwards, flung his rider from the saddle. At this +moment, with loud screams, the wizard ravens took flight. Sir +Piers was somewhat hurt by the fall, but he was more frightened +than hurt; and though he tried to put a bold face on the +matter, it was plain that his efforts to recover himself were +fruitless. Dr. Titus Tyrconnel and that wild fellow Jack +Palmer—who has lately come to the hall, and of whom you +know something—tried to rally him. But it would not do. +He broke up the day's sport, and returned dejectedly to the +hall. Before departing, however, he addressed a word to me in +private, respecting you; and pointed, with a melancholy shake +of the head, to the fatal branch. '<i>It is my death-warrant</i>,' +said he, gloomily. And so it proved; two days afterwards his +doom was accomplished."</p> + +<p>"And do you place faith in this idle legend?" asked Luke, +with affected indifference, although it was evident, from his +manner, that he himself was not so entirely free from a superstitious +feeling of credulity as he would have it appear.</p> + +<p>"Certes," replied the sexton. "I were more difficult to be +convinced than the unbelieving disciple else. Thrice hath it +occurred to my own knowledge, and ever with the same +result: first, with Sir Reginald; secondly, with thy own +mother; and lastly, as I have just told thee, with Sir Piers."</p> + +<p>"I thought you said, even now, that this death omen, if +such it be, was always confined to the immediate family of +Rookwood, and not to mere inmates of the mansion."</p> + +<p>"To the heads only of that house, be they male or female."</p> + +<p>"Then how could it apply to my mother? Was <i>she</i> of that +house? Was <i>she</i> a wife?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who shall say she was <i>not</i>?" rejoined the sexton.</p> + +<p>"Who shall say she <i>was</i> so?" cried Luke, repeating the +words with indignant emphasis—"who will avouch <i>that</i>?"</p> + +<p>A smile, cold as a wintry sunbeam, played upon the sexton's +rigid lips.</p> + +<p>"I will bear this no longer," cried Luke; "anger me not, +or look to yourself. In a word, have you anything to tell me +respecting her? if not, let me begone."</p> + +<p>"I have. But I will not be hurried by a boy like you," replied +Peter, doggedly. "Go, if you will, and take the consequences. +My lips are sealed forever, and I have much to +say—much that it behoves you to know."</p> + +<p>"Be brief, then. When you sought me out this morning, +in my retreat with the gipsy gang at Davenham Wood, you +bade me meet you in the porch of Rookwood Church at midnight. +I was true to my appointment."</p> + +<p>"And I will keep my promise," replied the sexton. "Draw +closer, that I may whisper in thine ear. Of every Rookwood +who lies around us—and all that ever bore the name, except +Sir Piers himself—who lies in state at the hall—, are here—not +one—mark what I say—not one male branch of the house but +has been suspected——"</p> + +<p>"Of what?"</p> + +<p>"Of murder!" returned the sexton, in a hissing whisper.</p> + +<p>"Murder!" echoed Luke, recoiling.</p> + +<p>"There is one dark stain—one foul blot on all. Blood—blood +hath been spilt."</p> + +<p>"By all?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, and <i>such</i> blood! theirs was no common crime. Even +murder hath its degrees. Theirs was of the first class."</p> + +<p>"Their wives!—you cannot mean that?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, their wives!—I do. You have heard it, then? Ha! +ha! 'tis a trick they had. Did you ever hear the old saying?</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 12em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>No mate ever brook would</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>A Rook of the Rookwood!</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>A merry saying it is, and true. No woman ever stood in a +Rookwood's way but she was speedily removed—that's certain. +They had all, save poor Sir Piers, the knack of stopping a +troublesome woman's tongue, and practised it to perfection. +A rare art, eh?"</p> + +<p>"What have the misdeeds of his ancestry to do with Sir +Piers," muttered Luke, "much less with my mother?"</p> + +<p>"Everything. If he could not rid himself of his wife—and +she is a match for the devil himself—, the <i>mistress</i> might be +more readily set aside."</p> + +<p>"Have you absolute knowledge of aught?" asked Luke, his +voice tremulous with emotion.</p> + +<p>"Nay, I but hinted."</p> + +<p>"Such hints are worse than open speech. Let me know +the worst. Did he kill her?" And Luke glared at the sexton +as if he would have penetrated his secret soul.</p> + +<p>But Peter was not easily fathomed. His cold, bright eye returned +Luke's gaze steadfastly, as he answered, composedly:</p> + +<p>"I have said all I know."</p> + +<p>"But not all you <i>think</i>."</p> + +<p>"Thoughts should not always find utterance, else we might +often endanger our own safety, and that of others."</p> + +<p>"An idle subterfuge—and, from you, worse than idle. I +will have an answer, yea or nay. Was it poison—was it +steel?"</p> + +<p>"Enough—she died."</p> + +<p>"No, it is not enough. When? Where?"</p> + +<p>"In her sleep—in her bed."</p> + +<p>"Why, that was natural."</p> + +<p>A wrinkling smile crossed the sexton's brow.</p> + +<p>"What means that horrible gleam of laughter?" exclaimed +Luke, grasping the shoulder of the man of graves with such +force as nearly to annihilate him. "Speak, or I will strangle +you. She died, you say, in her sleep?"</p> + +<p>"She did so," replied the sexton, shaking off Luke's hold.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And was it to tell me that I had a mother's murder to +avenge, that you brought me to the tomb of her destroyer—when +he is beyond the reach of my vengeance?"</p> + +<p>Luke exhibited so much frantic violence of manner and gesture, +that the sexton entertained some little apprehension that +his intellects were unsettled by the shock of the intelligence. +It was, therefore, in what he intended for a soothing tone that +he attempted to solicit his grandson's attention.</p> + +<p>"I will hear nothing more," interrupted Luke, and the +vaulted chamber rang with his passionate lamentations. "Am +I the sport of this mocking fiend?" cried he, "to whom my +agony is derision—my despair a source of enjoyment—beneath +whose withering glance my spirit shrinks—who, with half-expressed +insinuations, tortures my soul, awakening fancies +that goad me on to dark and desperate deeds? Dead mother! +upon thee I call. If in thy grave thou canst hear the cry of +thy most wretched son, yearning to avenge thee—answer me, +if thou hast the power. Let me have some token of the truth +or falsity of these wild suppositions, that I may wrestle against +this demon. But no," added he, in accents of despair, "no +ear listens to me, save his to whom my wretchedness is food +for mockery."</p> + +<p>"Could the dead hear thee, thy mother might do so," returned +the sexton. "She lies within this space."</p> + +<p>Luke staggered back, as if struck by a sudden shot. He +spoke not, but fell with a violent shock against a pile of coffins, +at which he caught for support.</p> + +<p>"What have I done?" he exclaimed, recoiling.</p> + +<p>A thundering crash resounded through the vault. One of +the coffins, dislodged from its position by his fall, tumbled to +the ground, and, alighting upon its side, split asunder.</p> + +<p>"Great Heavens! what is this?" cried Luke, as a dead +body, clothed in all the hideous apparel of the tomb, rolled +forth to his feet.</p> + +<p>"It is your mother's corpse," answered the sexton, coldly;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +"I brought you hither to behold it. But you have anticipated +my intentions."</p> + +<p>"<i>This</i> my mother?" shrieked Luke, dropping upon his +knees by the body, and seizing one of its chilly hands, as it +lay upon the floor, with the face upwards.</p> + +<p>The sexton took the candle from the sconce.</p> + +<p>"Can this be death?" shouted Luke. "Impossible! Oh, +God! she stirs—she moves. The light!—quick. I see her +stir! This is dreadful!"</p> + +<p>"Do not deceive yourself," said the sexton, in a tone which +betrayed more emotion than was his wont. "'Tis the bewilderment +of fancy. She will never stir again."</p> + +<p>And he shaded the candle with his hand, so as to throw the +light full upon the face of the corpse. It was motionless, as +that of an image carved in stone. No trace of corruption was +visible upon the rigid, yet exquisite tracery of its features. A +profuse cloud of raven hair, escaped from its swathements in +the fall, hung like a dark veil over the bosom and person of +the dead, and presented a startling contrast to the waxlike +hue of the skin and the pallid cereclothes. Flesh still adhered +to the hand, though it mouldered into dust within the gripe of +Luke, as he pressed the fingers to his lips. The shroud was +disposed like night-gear about her person, and from without +its folds a few withered flowers had fallen. A strong aromatic +odor, of a pungent nature, was diffused around; giving evidence +that the art by which the ancient Egyptians endeavored +to rescue their kindred from decomposition had been resorted +to, to preserve the fleeting charms of the unfortunate Susan +Bradley.</p> + +<p>A pause of awful silence succeeded, broken only by the convulsive +respiration of Luke. The sexton stood by, apparently +an indifferent spectator of the scene of horror. His eye +wandered from the dead to the living, and gleamed with a +peculiar and indefinable expression, half apathy, half abstraction. +For one single instant, as he scrutinized the features of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +his daughter, his brow, contracted by anger, immediately +afterwards was elevated in scorn. But otherwise you would +have sought in vain to read the purport of that cold, insensible +glance, which dwelt for a brief space on the face of the +mother, and settled eventually upon her son. At length the +withered flowers attracted his attention. He stooped to pick +up one of them.</p> + +<p>"Faded as the hand that gathered ye—as the bosom on +which ye were strewn!" he murmured. "No sweet smell left—but—faugh!" +Holding the dry leaves to the flame of the +candle, they were instantly ignited, and the momentary brilliance +played like a smile upon the features of the dead. +Peter observed the effect. "Such was thy life," he exclaimed; +"a brief, bright sparkle, followed by dark, utter +extinction!"</p> + +<p>Saying which, he flung the expiring ashes of the floweret +from his hand.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II1" id="CHAPTER_II1"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>THE SKELETON HAND</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 25em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Duch.</i> You are very cold.<br /></span> +<span class="i3">I fear you are not well after your travel.<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Ha! lights.——Oh horrible!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Fer.</i> Let her have lights enough.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Duch.</i> What witchcraft doth he practise, that he hath left<br /></span> +<span class="i3">A dead hand here?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Duchess of Malfy.</i></p></div> + + +<p>The sexton's waning candle now warned him of the progress +of time, and having completed his arrangements, he addressed +himself to Luke, intimating his intention of departing. +But receiving no answer, and remarking no signs of life about +his grandson, he began to be apprehensive that he had fallen +into a swoon. Drawing near to Luke, he took him gently by +the arm. Thus disturbed, Luke groaned aloud.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am glad to find you can breathe, if it be only after that +melancholy fashion," said the sexton; "but come, I have +wasted time enough already. You must indulge your grief +elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"Leave me," sighed Luke.</p> + +<p>"What, here? It were as much as my office is worth. You +can return some other night. But go you must, now—at least, +if you take on thus. I never calculated upon a scene like this, +or it had been long ere I brought you hither. So come away; +yet, stay;—but first lend me a hand to replace the body in the +coffin."</p> + +<p>"Touch it not," exclaimed Luke; "she shall not rest another +hour within these accursed walls. I will bear her hence +myself." And, sobbing hysterically, he relapsed into his +former insensibility.</p> + +<p>"Poh! this is worse than midsummer madness," said Peter; +"the lad is crazed with grief, and all about a mother who has +been four-and-twenty years in her grave. I will e'en put her +out of the way myself."</p> + +<p>Saying which, he proceeded, as noiselessly as possible, to +raise the corpse in his arms, and deposited it softly within its +former tenement. Carefully as he executed his task, he could +not accomplish it without occasioning a slight accident to the +fragile frame. Insensible as he was, Luke had not relinquished +the hold he maintained of his mother's hand. And when +Peter lifted the body, the ligaments connecting the hand with +the arm were suddenly snapped asunder. It would appear +afterwards, that this joint had been tampered with, and partially +dislocated. Without, however, entering into further particulars +in this place, it may be sufficient to observe that the +hand, detached from the socket at the wrist, remained within +the gripe of Luke; while, ignorant of the mischief he had +occasioned, the sexton continued his labors unconsciously, +until the noise which he of necessity made in stamping with +his heel upon the plank, recalled his grandson to sensibility.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +The first thing that the latter perceived, upon collecting +his faculties, were the skeleton fingers twined within his +own.</p> + +<p>"What have you done with the body? Why have you left +this with me?" demanded he.</p> + +<p>"It was not my intention to have done so," answered the +sexton, suspending his occupation. "I have just made fast +the lid, but it is easily undone. You had better restore it."</p> + +<p>"Never," returned Luke, staring at the bony fragment.</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! of what advantage is a dead hand? 'Tis an unlucky +keepsake, and will lead to mischief. The only use I ever +heard of such a thing being turned to, was in the case of Bow-legged +Ben, who was hanged in irons for murder, on Hardchase +Heath, on the York Road, and whose hand was cut off +at the wrist the first night to make a Hand of Glory, or Dead +Man's Candle. Hast never heard what the old song says?" +And without awaiting his grandson's response, Peter broke into +the following wild strain:</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE HAND OF GLORY<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 23em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From the corse that hangs on the roadside tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—A murderer's corse it needs must be—,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sever the right hand carefully:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sever the hand that the deed hath done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere the flesh that clings to the bones be gone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In its dry veins must blood be none.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those ghastly fingers white and cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within a winding-sheet enfold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Count the mystic count of seven:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Name the Governors of Heaven.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then in earthen vessel place them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with dragon-wort encase them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bleach them in the noonday sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the marrow melt and run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the flesh is pale and wan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As a moon-ensilvered cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As an unpolluted shroud.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Next within their chill embrace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dead man's Awful Candle place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of murderer's fat must that candle be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—You may scoop it beneath the roadside tree—,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of wax, and of Lapland sisame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its wick must be twisted of hair of the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the crow and her brood on the wild waste shed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherever that terrible light shall burn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vainly the sleeper may toss and turn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His leaden lids shall he ne'er unclose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So long as that magical taper glows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life and treasures shall he command<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who knoweth the charm of the Glorious Hand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But of black cat's gall let him aye have care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And of screech-owl's venomous blood beware!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"Peace!" thundered Luke, extending his mother's hand towards +the sexton. "What seest thou?"</p> + +<p>"I see something shine. Hold it nigher the light. Ha! +that is strange, truly. How came that ring there?"</p> + +<p>"Ask of Sir Piers! ask of her <i>husband</i>!" shouted Luke, +with a wild burst of exulting laughter. "Ha! ha! ha! 'tis a +wedding-ring! And look! the finger is bent. It must have +been placed upon it in her lifetime. There is no deception in +this—no trickery—ha!"</p> + +<p>"It would seem not; the sinew must have been contracted +in life. The tendons are pulled down so tightly, that +the ring could not be withdrawn without breaking the +finger."</p> + +<p>"You are sure that coffin contains her body?"</p> + +<p>"As sure as I am that this carcass is my own."</p> + +<p>"The hand—'tis hers. Can any doubt exist?"</p> + +<p>"Wherefore should it? It was broken from the arm by +accident within this moment. I noticed not the occurrence, +but it must have been so."</p> + +<p>"Then it follows that she was wedded, and I am not——"</p> + +<p>"Illegitimate. For your own sake I am glad of it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My heart will burst. Oh! could I but establish the fact +of this marriage, her wrongs would be indeed avenged."</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, Luke," said the sexton, solemnly. "I told +you, when I appointed this midnight interview, I had a secret +to communicate. That secret is now revealed—that secret +was your mother's marriage."</p> + +<p>"And it was known to you during her lifetime?"</p> + +<p>"It was. But I was sworn to secrecy."</p> + +<p>"You have proofs then?"</p> + +<p>"I have nothing beyond Sir Piers's word—and he is silent +now."</p> + +<p>"By whom was the ceremony performed?"</p> + +<p>"By a Romish priest—a Jesuit—one Father Checkley, at +that time an inmate of the hall; for Sir Piers, though he afterwards +abjured it, at that time professed the Catholic faith, and +this Checkley officiated as his confessor and counsellor; as the +partner of his pleasures, and the prompter of his iniquities. He +was your father's evil genius."</p> + +<p>"Is he still alive?"</p> + +<p>"I know not. After your mother's death he left the hall. +I have said he was a Jesuit, and I may add, that he was mixed +up in dark political intrigues, in which your father was too +feeble a character to take much share. But though too weak +to guide, he was a pliant instrument, and this Checkley knew. +He moulded him according to his wishes. I cannot tell you +what was the nature of their plots. Suffice it, they were such +as, if discovered, would have involved your father in ruin. He +was saved, however, by his wife."</p> + +<p>"And her reward——" groaned Luke.</p> + +<p>"Was death," replied Peter, coldly. "What Jesuit ever +forgave a wrong—real or imaginary? Your mother, I ought +to have said, was a Protestant. Hence there was a difference +of religious opinion—the worst of differences that can exist +between husband and wife—. Checkley vowed her destruction, +and he kept his vow. He was enamored of her beauty. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +while he burnt with adulterous desire, he was consumed +by fiercest hate—contending, and yet strangely-reconcilable +passions—as you may have reason, hereafter, to discover."</p> + +<p>"Go on," said Luke, grinding his teeth.</p> + +<p>"I have done," returned Peter. "From that hour your +father's love for his supposed mistress, and unacknowledged +wife, declined; and with his waning love declined her health. +I will not waste words in describing the catastrophe that awaited +her union. It will be enough to say, she was found one morning +a corpse within her bed. Whatever suspicions were attached +to Sir Piers were quieted by Checkley, who distributed +gold, largely and discreetly. The body was embalmed by +Barbara Lovel, the Gipsy Queen."</p> + +<p>"My foster-mother!" exclaimed Luke, in a tone of extreme +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Ah," replied Peter, "from her you may learn all particulars. +You have now seen what remains of your mother. +You are in possession of the secret of your birth. The path +is before you, and if you would arrive at honor you must +pursue it steadily, turning neither to the right nor to the left. +Opposition you will meet at each step. But fresh lights may +be thrown upon this difficult case. It is in vain to hope for +Checkley's evidence, even should the caitiff priest be living. +He is himself too deeply implicated—ha!"</p> + +<p>Peter stopped, for at this moment the flame of the candle +suddenly expired, and the speakers were left in total darkness. +Something like a groan followed the conclusion of the sexton's +discourse. It was evident that it proceeded not from his +grandson, as an exclamation burst from him at the same instant. +Luke stretched out his arm. A cold hand seemed to +press against his own, communicating a chill like death to his +frame.</p> + +<p>"Who is between us?" he ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"The devil!" cried the sexton, leaping from the coffin-lid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +with an agility that did him honor. "Is aught between +us?"</p> + +<p>"I will discharge my gun. Its flash will light us."</p> + +<p>"Do so," hastily rejoined Peter. "But not in this direction."</p> + +<p>"Get behind me," cried Luke. And he pulled the trigger.</p> + +<p>A blaze of vivid light illumined the darkness. Still nothing +was visible, save the warrior figure, which was seen for a +moment, and then vanished like a ghost. The buck-shot +rattled against the further end of the vault.</p> + +<p>"Let us go hence," ejaculated the sexton, who had rushed +to the door, and thrown it wide open. "Mole! Mole!" cried +he, and the dog sprang after him.</p> + +<p>"I could have sworn I felt something," said Luke; "whence +issued that groan?"</p> + +<p>"Ask not whence," replied Peter. "Reach me my mattock, +and spade, and the lantern; they are behind you. And stay, +it were better to bring away the bottle."</p> + +<p>"Take them, and leave me here."</p> + +<p>"Alone in the vault?—no, no, Luke, I have not told you +half I know concerning that mystic statue. It is said to move—to +walk—to raise its axe—be warned, I pray."</p> + +<p>"Leave me, or abide, if you will, my coming, in the church. +If there is aught that may be revealed to my ear alone, I will +not shrink from it, though the dead themselves should arise to +proclaim the mystery. It may be—but—go—there are your +tools." And he shut the door, with a jar that shook the +sexton's frame.</p> + +<p>Peter, after some muttered murmurings at the hardihood +and madness, as he termed it, of his grandson, disposed his +lanky limbs to repose upon a cushioned bench without the +communion railing. As the pale moonlight fell upon his gaunt +and cadaverous visage, he looked like some unholy thing suddenly +annihilated by the presiding influence of that sacred +spot. Mole crouched himself in a ring at his master's feet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +Peter had not dozed many minutes, when he was aroused by +Luke's return. The latter was very pale, and the damp stood +in big drops upon his brow.</p> + +<p>"Have you made fast the door?" inquired the sexton.</p> + +<p>"Here is the key."</p> + +<p>"What have you seen?" he next demanded.</p> + +<p>Luke made no answer. At that moment, the church clock +struck two, breaking the stillness with an iron clang. Luke +raised his eyes. A ray of moonlight, streaming obliquely +through the painted window, fell upon the gilt lettering of a +black mural entablature. The lower part of the inscription +was in the shade, but the emblazonment, and the words—</p> + +<p class="cb">Orate pro anima Reginaldi Rookwood equitis aurati,</p> + +<p>were clear and distinct. Luke trembled, he knew not why, +as the sexton pointed to it.</p> + +<p>"You have heard of the handwriting upon the wall," said +Peter. "Look there!—'His kingdom hath been taken from +him.' Ha, ha! Listen to me. Of all thy monster race—of all +the race of Rookwood I should say—no demon ever stalked the +earth more terrible than him whose tablet you now behold. +By him a brother was betrayed; by him a brother's wife was +dishonored. Love, honor, friendship, were with him as words. +He regarded no ties; he defied and set at naught all human +laws and obligations—and yet he was religious, or esteemed so—received +the <i>viaticum</i>, and died full of years and honors, hugging +salvation to his sinful heart. And after death he has yon +lying epitaph to record his virtues. <i>His</i> virtues! ha, ha! Ask +him who preaches to the kneeling throng gathering within this +holy place what shall be the murderer's portion—and he will +answer—<i>Death!</i> And yet Sir Reginald was long-lived. The +awful question, 'Cain, where is thy brother?' broke not his +tranquil slumbers. Luke, I have told you much—but not all. +You know not, as yet—nor shall you know your destiny; but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +you shall be the avenger of infamy and blood. I have a sacred +charge committed to my keeping, which, hereafter, I may delegate +to you. You <i>shall</i> be Sir Luke Rookwood, but the conditions +must be mine to propose."</p> + +<p>"No more," said Luke; "my brain reels. I am faint. Let +us quit this place, and get into the fresh air." And striding +past his grandsire he traversed the aisles with hasty steps. +Peter was not slow to follow. The key was applied, and they +emerged into the churchyard. The grassy mounds were +bathed in the moonbeams, and the two yew-trees, throwing their +black jagged shadows over the grave hills, looked like evil +spirits brooding over the repose of the righteous.</p> + +<p>The sexton noticed the deathly paleness of Luke's countenance, +but he fancied it might proceed from the tinge of the +sallow moonlight.</p> + +<p>"I will be with you at your cottage ere daybreak," said +Luke. And turning an angle of the church, he disappeared +from view.</p> + +<p>"So," exclaimed Peter, gazing after him, "the train is laid; +the spark has been applied; the explosion will soon follow. +The hour is fast approaching when I shall behold this accursed +house shaken to dust, and when my long-delayed vengeance +will be gratified. In that hope I am content to drag on the +brief remnant of my days. Meanwhile, I must not omit the +stimulant. In a short time I may not require it." Draining +the bottle to the last drop, he flung it from him, and commenced +chanting, in a high key and cracked voice, a wild ditty, +the words of which ran as follow:</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE CARRION CROW</p> +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 24em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Carrion Crow is a sexton bold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He raketh the dead from out the mould;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He delveth the ground like a miser old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stealthily hiding his store of gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i9"><i>Caw! Caw!</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Carrion Crow hath a coat of black,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silky and sleek like a priest's to his back;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a lawyer he grubbeth—no matter what way—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fouler the offal, the richer his prey.<br /></span> +<span class="i9"><i>Caw! Caw! the Carrion Crow!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i9"><i>Dig! Dig! in the ground below!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Carrion Crow hath a dainty maw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With savory pickings he crammeth his craw;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kept meat from the gibbet it pleaseth his whim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It can never <i>hang</i> too long for him!<br /></span> +<span class="i9"><i>Caw! Caw!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Carrion Crow smelleth powder, 'tis said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a soldier escheweth the taste of cold lead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No jester, or mime, hath more marvellous wit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, wherever he lighteth, he maketh a hit!<br /></span> +<span class="i9"><i>Caw! Caw! the Carrion Crow!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i9"><i>Dig! Dig! in the ground below!</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Shouldering his spade, and whistling to his dog, the sexton +quitted the churchyard.</p> + +<p>Peter had not been gone many seconds, when a dark figure, +muffled in a wide black mantle, emerged from among the +tombs surrounding the church; gazed after him for a few seconds, +and then, with a menacing gesture, retreated behind the +ivied buttresses of the gray old pile.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III1" id="CHAPTER_III1"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>THE PARK</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Brian.</i> Ralph! hearest thou any stirring?</p> + +<p><i>Ralph.</i> I heard one speak here, hard by, in the hollow. Peace! +master, speak low. Nouns! if I do not hear a bow go off, and the buck +bray, I never heard deer in my life.</p> + +<p><i>Bri.</i> Stand, or I'll shoot.</p> + +<p><i>Sir Arthur.</i> Who's there?</p> + +<p><i>Bri.</i> I am the keeper, and do charge you stand.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">You have stolen my deer.</span></p> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Merry Devil of Edmonton.</i></p></div> + + +<p>Luke's first impulse had been to free himself from the restraint +imposed by his grandsire's society. He longed to commune +with himself. Leaping the small boundary-wall, which +defended the churchyard from a deep green lane, he hurried +along in a direction contrary to that taken by the sexton, making +the best of his way until he arrived at a gap in the high-banked +hazel hedge which overhung the road. Heedless of +the impediments thrown in his way by the undergrowth of a +rough ring fence, he struck through the opening that presented +itself, and, climbing over the moss-grown paling, trod presently +upon the elastic sward of Rookwood Park.</p> + +<p>A few minutes' rapid walking brought him to the summit of +a rising ground crowned with aged oaks and, as he passed beneath +their broad shadows, his troubled spirit, soothed by the +quietude of the scene, in part resumed its serenity.</p> + +<p>Luke yielded to the gentle influence of the time and hour. +The stillness of the spot allayed the irritation of his frame, and +the dewy chillness cooled the fever of his brow. Leaning for +support against the gnarled trunk of one of the trees, he gave +himself up to contemplation. The events of the last hour—of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +his whole existence—passed in rapid review before him. The +thought of the wayward, vagabond life he had led; of the wild +adventures of his youth; of all he had been; of all he had +<i>done</i>, of all he had endured—crowded his mind; and then, +like the passing of a cloud flitting across the autumnal moon, +and occasionally obscuring the smiling landscape before him, +his soul was shadowed by the remembrance of the awful revelations +of the last hour, and the fearful knowledge he had +acquired of his mother's fate—of his father's guilt.</p> + +<p>The eminence on which he stood was one of the highest +points of the park, and commanded a view of the hall, which +might be a quarter of a mile distant, discernible through a +broken vista of trees, its whitened walls glimmering in the +moonlight, and its tall chimney spiring far from out the round +masses of wood in which it lay embosomed. The ground +gradually sloped in that direction, occasionally rising into +swells, studded with magnificent timber—dipping into smooth +dells, or stretching out into level glades, until it suddenly sank +into a deep declivity, that formed an effectual division, without +the intervention of a haw-haw, or other barrier, between +the chase and the home-park. A slender stream strayed +through this ravine, having found its way thither from a small +reservoir, hidden in the higher plantations to the left; and +further on, in the open ground, and in a line with the hall, +though, of course, much below the level of the building, +assisted by many local springs, and restrained by a variety of +natural and artificial embankments, this brook spread out into +an expansive sheet of water. Crossed by a rustic bridge, the +only communication between the parks, the pool found its outlet +into the meads below; and even at that distance, and in +that still hour, you might almost catch the sound of the brawling +waters, as they dashed down the weir in a foaming cascade; +while, far away, in the spreading valley, the serpentine +meanderings of the slender current might be traced, glittering +like silvery threads in the moonshine. The mild beams of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +queen of night, then in her meridian, trembled upon the topmost +branches of the tall timber, quivering like diamond spray +upon the outer foliage; and, penetrating through the interstices +of the trees, fell upon the light wreaths of vapor then +beginning to arise from the surface of the pool, steeping them +in misty splendor, and lending to this part of the picture a +character of dreamy and unearthly beauty.</p> + +<p>All else was in unison. No sound interrupted the silence of +Luke's solitude, except the hooting of a large gray owl, that, +scared at his approach, or in search of prey, winged its spectral +flight in continuous and mazy circles round his head, uttering +at each wheel its startling whoop; or a deep, distant bay, +that ever and anon boomed upon the ear, proceeding from a +pack of hounds kennelled in a shed adjoining the pool before +mentioned, but which was shrouded from view by the rising +mist. No living objects presented themselves, save a herd of +deer, crouched in a covert of brown fern beneath the shadow +of a few stunted trees, immediately below the point of land on +which Luke stood; and although their branching antlers could +scarcely be detected from the ramifications of the wood itself, +they escaped not his practised ken.</p> + +<p>"How often," murmured Luke, "in years gone by, have I +traversed these moonlit glades, and wandered amidst these +woodlands, on nights heavenly as this—ay, and to some purpose, +as yon thinned herd might testify! Every dingle, every +dell, every rising brow, every bosky vale and shelving covert, +have been as familiar to my track as to that of the fleetest and +freest of their number: scarce a tree amidst the thickest of +yon outstretching forest with which I cannot claim acquaintance; +'tis long since I have seen them. By Heavens! 'tis +beautiful! and it is all my own! Can I forget that it was +here I first emancipated myself from thraldom? Can I forget +the boundless feeling of delight that danced within my veins +when I first threw off the yoke of servitude, and roved unshackled, +unrestrained, amidst these woods? The wild intoxicating<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +bliss still tingles to my heart. And they are all my own—my +own! Softly, what have we there?"</p> + +<p>Luke's attention was arrested by an object which could not +fail to interest him, sportsman as he was. A snorting bray +was heard, and a lordly stag stalked slowly and majestically +from out the copse. Luke watched the actions of the noble +animal with great interest, drawing back into the shade. A +hundred yards, or thereabouts, might be between him and the +buck. It was within range of ball. Luke mechanically grasped +his gun; yet his hand had scarcely raised the piece half way +to his shoulder, when he dropped it again to its rest.</p> + +<p>"What am I about to do?" he mentally ejaculated. "Why, +for mere pastime, should I take away yon noble creature's life, +when his carcass would be utterly useless to me? Yet such is +the force of habit, that I can scarce resist the impulse that +tempted me to fire; and I have known the time, and that not +long since, when I should have shown no such self-control."</p> + +<p>Unconscious of the danger it had escaped, the animal moved +forward with the same stately step. Suddenly it stopped, with +ears pricked, as if some sound had smote them. At that +instant the click of a gun-lock was heard, at a little distance +to the right. The piece had missed fire. An instantaneous +report from another gun succeeded; and, with a bound high +in air, the buck fell upon his back, struggling in the agonies of +death. Luke had at once divined the cause; he was aware that +poachers were at hand. He fancied that he knew the parties; +nor was he deceived in his conjecture. Two figures issued +instantly from a covert on the right, and making to the spot, +the first who reached it put an end to the animal's struggles +by plunging a knife into its throat. The affrighted herd took +to their heels, and were seen darting swiftly down the chase.</p> + +<p>One of the twain, meantime, was occupied in feeling for the +deer's fat, when he was approached by the other, who pointed +in the direction of the house. The former raised himself from +his kneeling posture, and both appeared to listen attentively.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +Luke fancied he heard a slight sound in the distance; whatever +the noise proceeded from, it was evident the deer-stealers +were alarmed. They laid hold of the buck, and, dragging it +along, concealed the carcass among the tall fern; they then +retreated, halting for an instant to deliberate, within a few +yards of Luke, who was concealed from their view by the +trunk of the tree, behind which he had ensconced his person. +They were so near, that he lost not a word of their muttered +conference.</p> + +<p>"The game's spoiled this time, Rob Rust, any how," growled +one, in an angry tone; "the hawks are upon us, and we must +leave this brave buck to take care of himself. Curse him!—who'd +'a' thought of Hugh Badger's quitting his bed to-night? +Respect for his late master might have kept him quiet the night +before the funeral. But look out, lad. Dost see 'em?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, thanks to old Oliver—yonder they are," returned the +other. "One—two—three—and a muzzled bouser to boot. +There's Hugh at the head on 'em. Shall we stand and show +fight? I have half a mind for it."</p> + +<p>"No, no," replied the first speaker; "that will never do, +Rob—no fighting. Why run the risk of being grabb'd for a +haunch of venison? Had Luke Bradley or Jack Palmer been +with us, it might have been another affair. As it is, it won't +pay. Besides, we've that to do at the hall to-morrow night +that may make men of us for the rest of our nat'ral lives. +We've pledged ourselves to Jack Palmer, and we can't be off +in honor. It won't do to be snabbled in the nick of it. So +let's make for the prad in the lane. Keep in the shade as +much as you can. Come along, my hearty." And away the +two worthies scampered down the hill-side.</p> + +<p>"Shall I follow," thought Luke, "and run the risk of falling +into the keeper's hand, just at this crisis, too? No, but if I am +found here, I shall be taken for one of the gang. Something +must be done—ha!—devil take them, here they are already."</p> + +<p>Further time was not allowed him for reflection. A hoarse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +baying was heard, followed by a loud cry from the keepers. +The dog had scented out the game; and, as secrecy was no +longer necessary, his muzzle had been removed. To rush forth +now were certain betrayal; to remain was almost equally assured +detection; and, doubting whether he should obtain +credence if he delivered himself over in that garb and armed, +Luke at once rejected the idea. Just then it flashed across +his recollection that his gun had remained unloaded, and he +applied himself eagerly to repair this negligence, when he heard +the dog in full cry, making swiftly in his direction. He threw +himself upon the ground, where the fern was thickest; but this +seemed insufficient to baffle the sagacity of the hound—the animal +had got his scent, and was baying close at hand. The +keepers were drawing nigh. Luke gave himself up for lost. The +dog, however, stopped where the two poachers had halted, and +was there completely at fault: snuffing the ground, he bayed, +wheeled round, and then set off with renewed barking upon +their track. Hugh Badger and his comrades loitered an instant +at the same place, looked warily round, and then, as Luke +conjectured, followed the course taken by the hound.</p> + +<p>Swift as thought, Luke arose, and keeping as much as possible +under cover of the trees, started in a cross line for the +lane. Rapid as was his flight, it was not without a witness: one +of the keeper's assistants, who had lagged behind, gave the +view-halloo in a loud voice. Luke pressed forward with redoubled +energy, endeavoring to gain the shelter of the plantation, +and this he could readily have accomplished, had no impediment +been in his way. But his rage and vexation were +boundless, when he heard the keeper's cry echoed by shouts +immediately below him, and the tongue of the hound resounding +in the hollow. He turned sharply round, steering a middle +course, and still aiming at the fence. It was evident, from +the cheers of his pursuers, that he was in full view, and he +heard them encouraging and directing the dog.</p> + +<p>Luke had gained the park palings, along which he rushed, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +the vain quest of some practicable point of egress, for the fence +was higher in this part of the park than elsewhere, owing to +the inequality of the ground. He had cast away his gun as +useless. But even without that incumbrance, he dared not +hazard the delay of climbing the palings. At this juncture a +deep breathing was heard close behind him. He threw a glance +over his shoulder. Within a few yards was a ferocious bloodhound, +with whose savage nature Luke was well acquainted; +the breed, some of which he had already seen, having been +maintained at the hall ever since the days of grim old Sir +Ranulph. The eyes of the hound were glaring, blood-red; his +tongue was hanging out, and a row of keen white fangs was +displayed, like the teeth of a shark. There was a growl—a +leap—and the dog was close upon him.</p> + +<p>Luke's courage was undoubted. But his heart failed him as +he heard the roar of the remorseless brute, and felt that he +could not avoid an encounter with the animal. His resolution +was instantly taken: he stopped short with such suddenness, +that the dog, when in the act of springing, flew past him with +great violence, and the time, momentary as it was, occupied by +the animal in recovering himself, enabled Luke to drop on +his knee, and to place one arm, like a buckler, before his face, +while he held the other in readiness to grapple his adversary. +Uttering a fierce yell, the hound returned to the charge, darting +at Luke, who received the assault without flinching; and +in spite of a severe laceration of the arm, he seized his foe by +the throat, and hurling him upon the ground, jumped with all +his force upon his belly. There was a yell of agony—the +contest was ended, and Luke was at liberty to pursue his flight +unmolested.</p> + +<p>Brief as had been the interval required for this combat, it +had been sufficient to bring the pursuers within sight of the +fugitive. Hugh Badger, who from the acclivity had witnessed +the fate of his favorite, with a loud oath discharged the contents +of his gun at the head of its destroyer. It was fortunate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +for Luke that at this instant he stumbled over the root of a +tree—the shot rattled in the leaves as he fell, and the keeper, +concluding that he had at least winged his bird, descended +more leisurely towards him. As he lay upon the ground, Luke +felt that he was wounded; whether by the teeth of the dog, +from a stray shot, or from bruises inflicted by the fall, he could +not determine. But, smarting with pain, he resolved to wreak +his vengeance upon the first person who approached him. He +vowed not to be taken with life—to strangle any who should +lay hands upon him. At that moment he felt a pressure at his +breast. It was the dead hand of his mother!</p> + +<p>Luke shuddered. The fire of revenge was quenched. He +mentally cancelled his rash oath; yet he could not bring himself +to surrender at discretion, and without further effort. +The keeper and his assistants were approaching the spot where +he lay, and searching for his body. Hugh Badger was foremost, +and within a yard of him.</p> + +<p>"Confound the rascal!" cried Hugh, "he's not half killed; +he seems to breathe."</p> + +<p>The words were scarcely out of his mouth ere the speaker +was dashed backwards, and lay sprawling upon the sod. Suddenly +and unexpectedly, as an Indian chief might rush upon +his foes, Luke arose, dashing himself with great violence +against Hugh, who happened to stand in his way, and before +the startled assistants, who were either too much taken by +surprise, or unwilling to draw a trigger, could in any way lay +hands upon him, exerting all the remarkable activity which +he possessed, he caught hold of a projecting branch of a +tree, and swung himself, at a single bound, fairly over the +paling.</p> + +<p>Hugh Badger was shortly on his legs, swearing lustily at his +defeat. Directing his men to skirt alongside the fence, and +make for a particular part of the plantation which he named, +and snatching a loaded fowling-piece from one of them, he +clambered over the pales, and guided by the crashing branches<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +and other sounds conveyed to his quick ear, he was speedily +upon Luke's track.</p> + +<p>The plantation through which the chase now took place was +not, as might be supposed, a continuation of the ring fence +which Luke had originally crossed on his entrance into the +park, though girded by the same line of paling, but, in reality, +a close pheasant preserve, occupying the banks of a ravine, +which, after a deep and tortuous course, terminated in the +declivity heretofore described as forming the park boundary. +Luke plunged into the heart of this defile, fighting his way +downwards, in the direction of the brook. His progress was +impeded by a thick undergrowth of brier, and other matted +vegetation, as well as by the entanglements thrown in his way +by the taller bushes of thorn and hazel, the entwined and elastic +branches of which, in their recoil, galled and fretted him, +by inflicting smart blows on his face and hands. This was a +hardship he usually little regarded. But, upon the present occasion, +it had the effect, by irritating his temper, of increasing +the thirst of vengeance raging in his bosom.</p> + +<p>Through the depths of the ravine welled the shallow stream +before alluded to, and Hugh Badger had no sooner reached +its sedgy margin than he lost all trace of the fugitive. He +looked cautiously round, listened intently, and inclined his ear +to catch the faintest echo. All was still: not a branch shook, +not a leaf rustled. Hugh looked aghast. He had made sure +of getting a glimpse, and, perhaps, a stray shot at the "poaching +rascal," as he termed him, "in the open space, which he +was sure the fellow was aiming to reach; and now, all at once, +he had disappeared, like a will-o'-the-wisp or a boggart of the +clough." However, he could not be far off, and Hugh endeavored +to obtain some clue to guide him in his quest. He was +not long in detecting recent marks deeply indented in the mud +on the opposite bank. Hugh leaped thither at once. Further +on, some rushes were trodden down, and there were other +indications of the course the fugitive had taken.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hark forward!" shouted Hugh, in the joy of his heart at +this discovery; and, like a well-trained dog, he followed up +with alacrity the scent he had opened. The brook presented +still fewer impediments to expedition than the thick copse, +and the keeper pursued the wanderings of the petty current, +occasionally splashing into the stream. Here and there, the +print of a foot on the soil satisfied him he was in the right +path. At length he became aware, from the crumbling soil, +that the object of his pursuit had scaled the bank, and he +forthwith moderated his pace. Halting, he perceived what he +took to be a face peeping at him from behind a knot of alders +that overhung the steep and shelving bank immediately above +him. His gun was instantly at his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Come down, you infernal deer-stealing scoundrel," cried +Hugh, "or I'll blow you to shivers."</p> + +<p>No answer was returned: expostulation was vain; and, fearful +of placing himself at a disadvantage if he attempted to scale +the bank, Hugh fired without further parley. The sharp discharge +rolled in echoes down the ravine, and a pheasant, scared +by the sound, answered the challenge from a neighboring +tree. Hugh was an unerring marksman, and on this occasion +his aim had been steadily taken. The result was not precisely +such as he had anticipated. A fur cap, shaken by the shot +from the bough on which it hung, came rolling down the +bank, proclaiming the <i>ruse</i> that had been practised upon the +keeper. Little time was allowed him for reflection. Before +he could reload, he felt himself collared by the iron arm of +Luke.</p> + +<p>Hugh Badger was a man of great personal strength—square-set, +bandy-legged, with a prodigious width of chest, and a +frame like a Hercules, and, energetic as was Luke's assault, he +maintained his ground without flinching. The struggle was +desperate. Luke was of slighter proportion, though exceeding +the keeper in stature by the head and shoulders. This superiority +availed him little. It was rather a disadvantage in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +conflict that ensued. The gripe fastened upon Hugh's throat +was like that of a clenched vice. But Luke might as well have +grappled the neck of a bull, as that of the stalwart keeper. +Defending himself with his hobnail boots, with which he inflicted +several severe blows upon Luke's shins, and struggling +vehemently, Hugh succeeded in extricating himself from his +throttling grasp; he then closed with his foe, and they were +locked together, like a couple of bears at play. Straining, tugging, +and practising every sleight and stratagem coming within +the scope of feet, knees, and thighs—now tripping, now jerking, +now advancing, now retreating, they continued the strife, +but all with doubtful result. Victory, at length, seemed to declare +itself in favor of the sturdy keeper. Aware of his opponent's +strength, it was Luke's chief endeavor to keep his lower +limbs disengaged, and to trust more to skill than force for ultimate +success. To prevent this was Hugh's grand object. +Guarding himself against every feint, he ultimately succeeded +in firmly grappling his agile assailant. Luke's spine was +almost broken by the shock, when he suddenly gave way; and, +without losing his balance, drew his adversary forward, kicking +his right leg from under him. With a crash like that of an uprooted +oak, Hugh fell, with his foe upon him, into the bed of +the rivulet.</p> + +<p>Not a word had been spoken during the conflict. A convulsive +groan burst from Hugh's hardy breast. His hand sought +his girdle, but in vain; his knife was gone. Gazing upwards, +his dancing vision encountered the glimmer of the blade. The +weapon had dropped from its case in the fall. Luke brandished +it before his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Villain!" gasped Hugh, ineffectually struggling to free +himself, "you will not murder me?" And his efforts to +release himself became desperate.</p> + +<p>"No," answered Luke, flinging the uplifted knife into the +brook. "I will not do <i>that</i>, though thou hast twice aimed at +my life to-night. But I will silence thee, at all events." Saying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +which, he dealt the keeper a blow on the head that terminated +all further resistance on his part.</p> + +<p>Leaving the inert mass to choke up the current, with whose +waters the blood, oozing from the wound, began to commingle, +Luke prepared to depart. His perils were not yet past. +Guided by the firing, the report of which alarmed them, the +keeper's assistants hastened in the direction of the sound, presenting +themselves directly in the path Luke was about to take. +He had either to retrace his steps, or face a double enemy. +His election was made at once. He turned and fled.</p> + +<p>For an instant the men tarried with their bleeding companion. +They then dragged him from the brook, and with +loud oaths followed in pursuit.</p> + +<p>Threading, for a second time, the bosky labyrinth, Luke +sought the source of the stream. This was precisely the course +his enemies would have desired him to pursue; and when they +beheld him take it, they felt confident of his capture.</p> + +<p>The sides of the hollow became more and more abrupt as +they advanced, though they were less covered with brushwood. +The fugitive made no attempt to climb the bank, but still +pressed forward. The road was tortuous, and wound round a +jutting point of rock. Now he was a fair mark—no, he had +swept swiftly by, and was out of sight before a gun could be +raised. They reached the same point. He was still before +them, but his race was nearly run. Steep, slippery rocks, shelving +down to the edges of a small, deep pool of water, the source +of the stream, formed an apparently insurmountable barrier in +that direction. Rooted—Heaven knows how!—in some reft +or fissure of the rock, grew a wild ash, throwing out a few +boughs over the solitary pool; this was all the support Luke +could hope for, should he attempt to scale the rock. The rock +was sheer—the pool deep—yet still he hurried on. He reached +the muddy embankment; mounted its sides; and seemed to +hesitate. The keepers were now within a hundred yards of +him. Both guns were discharged. And, sudden as the reports,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +with a dead, splashless plunge, like a diving otter, the +fugitive dropped into the water.</p> + +<p>The pursuers were at the brink. They gazed at the pool. +A few bubbles floated upon its surface, and burst. The water +was slightly discolored with sand. No ruddier stain crimsoned +the tide; no figure rested on the naked rock; no hand +clung to the motionless tree.</p> + +<p>"Devil take the rascal!" growled one; "I hope he harn't +escaped us, arter all."</p> + +<p>"Noa, noa, he be fast enough, never fear," rejoined the +other; "sticking like a snig at the bottom o' the pond; and, +dang him! he deserves it, for he's slipped out of our fingers +like a snig often enough to-night. But come, let's be stumping, +and give poor Hugh Badger a helping hand."</p> + +<p>Whereupon they returned to the assistance of the wounded +and discomfited keeper.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV1" id="CHAPTER_IV1"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>THE HALL</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I am right against my house—seat of my ancestors.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Yorkshire Tragedy.</i></p></div> + + +<p>Rookwood Place was a fine, old, irregular pile, of considerable +size, presenting a rich, picturesque outline, with its innumerable +gable-ends, its fantastical coigns, and tall crest of +twisted chimneys. There was no uniformity of style about the +building, yet the general effect was pleasing and beautiful. Its +very irregularity constituted a charm. Nothing except convenience +had been consulted in its construction: additions had +from time to time been made to it, but everything dropped into +its proper place, and, without apparent effort or design, +grew into an ornament, and heightened the beauty of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +whole. It was, in short, one of those glorious manorial houses +that sometimes unexpectedly greet us in our wanderings, and +gladden us like the discovery of a hidden treasure. Some +such ancestral hall we have occasionally encountered, in unlooked-for +quarters, in our native county of Lancaster, or in its +smiling sister shire; and never without feelings of intense delight, +rejoicing to behold the freshness of its antiquity, and the +greenness of its old age. For, be it observed in passing, a +Cheshire or Lancashire hall, time-honored though it be, with +its often renovated black and white squares, fancifully filled up +with trefoils and quatrefoils, rosettes, and other figures, seems +to bear its years so lightly, that its age, so far from detracting +from its beauty, only lends it a grace; and the same mansion, +to all outward appearance, fresh and perfect as it existed in +the days of good Queen Bess, may be seen in admirable preservation +in the days of the youthful Victoria. Such is Bramall—such +Moreton, and many another we might instance; +the former of these houses may, perhaps, be instanced as the +best specimen of its class,—and its class in our opinion, <i>is</i> the +best—to be met with in Cheshire, considered with reference +either to the finished decoration of its exterior, rich in the chequered +coloring we have alluded to, preserved with a care and +neatness almost Dutch, or to the consistent taste exhibited by +its possessor to the restoration and maintenance of all its original +and truly national beauty within doors. As an illustration +of old English hospitality—that real, hearty hospitality for +which the squirearchy of this country was once so famous—Ah! +why have they bartered it for other customs less substantially +<i>English</i>?—it may be mentioned, that a road conducted the +passenger directly through the great hall of this house, literally +"of entertainment," where, if he listed, strong ale, and other +refreshments, awaited his acceptance and courted his stay. +Well might old King, the Cheshire historian, in the pride of +his honest heart, exclaim, "<i>I know divers men, who are but +farmers, that in their housekeeping may compare with a lord<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +or baron, in some countries beyond the seas;—yea, although I +named a higher degree, I were able to justify it.</i>" We have +no such "golden farmers" in these degenerate days!</p> + +<p>The mansion, was originally built by Sir Ranulph de Rookwood—or, +as it was then written, Rokewode—the first of the +name, a stout Yorkist, who flourished in the reign of Edward +IV., and received the fair domain and broad lands upon +which the edifice was raised, from his sovereign, in reward for +good service; retiring thither in the decline of life, at the close +of the Wars of the Roses, to sequestrate himself from scenes of +strife, and to consult his spiritual weal in the erection and +endowment of the neighboring church. It was of mixed architecture, +and combined the peculiarities of each successive era. +Retaining some of the sterner features of earlier days, the period +ere yet the embattled manor-house peculiar to the reigns of the +later Henrys had been merged into the graceful and peaceable +hall, the residence of the Rookwoods had early anticipated the +gentler characteristics of a later day, though it could boast little +of that exuberance of external ornament, luxuriance of design, +and prodigality of beauty, which, under the sway of the Virgin +Queen, distinguished the residence of the wealthier English +landowner; and rendered the hall of Elizabeth, properly so +called, the pride and boast of our domestic architecture.</p> + +<p>The site selected by Sir Ranulph for his habitation had +been already occupied by a vast fabric of oak, which he in +part removed, though some vestiges might still be traced of +that ancient pile. A massive edifice succeeded, with gate and +tower, court and moat complete; substantial enough, one +would have thought, to have endured for centuries. But even +this ponderous structure grew into disuse, and Sir Ranulph's +successors, remodelling, repairing, almost rebuilding the whole +mansion, in the end so metamorphosed its aspect, that at last +little of its original and distinctive character remained. Still, +as we said before, it was a fine old house, though some changes +had taken place for the worse, which could not be readily pardoned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +by the eye of taste: as, for instance, the deep embayed +windows had dwindled into modernized casements, of lighter +construction; the wide porch, with its flight of steps leading +to the great hall of entrance, had yielded to a narrow door; +and the broad quadrangular court was succeeded by a gravel +drive. Yet, despite all these changes, the house of the Rookwoods, +for an old house—and, after all, what is like an old +house?—was no undesirable or uncongenial abode for any +worshipful country gentleman "who had a great estate."</p> + +<p>The hall was situated near the base of a gently declining +hill, terminating a noble avenue of limes, and partially embosomed +in an immemorial wood of the same timber, which +had given its name to the family that dwelt amongst its rook-haunted +shades. Descending the avenue, at the point of +access afforded by a road that wound down the hill-side, +towards a village distant about half a mile, as you advanced, +the eye was first arrested by a singular octagonal turret of +brick, of more recent construction than the house; and in all +probability occupying the place where the gateway stood of +yore. This tower rose to a height corresponding with the roof +of the mansion; and was embellished on the side facing the +house with a flamingly gilt dial, peering, like an impudent +observer, at all that passed within doors. Two apartments, +which it contained, were appropriated to the house-porter. +Despoiled of its martial honors, the gateway still displayed the +achievements of the family—the rook and the fatal branch—carved +in granite, which had resisted the storms of two +centuries, though stained green with moss, and mapped over +with lichens. To the left, overgrown with ivy, and peeping +from out a tuft of trees, appeared the hoary summit of a +dovecot, indicating the near neighborhood of an ancient barn, +contemporary with the earliest dwelling-house, and of a little +world of offices and outbuildings buried in the thickness of +the foliage. To the right was the garden—the pleasaunce of +the place—formal, precise, old-fashioned, artificial, yet exquisite!—for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +commend us to the bygone, beautiful English +garden—<i>really a garden</i>—not that mixture of park, meadow, +and wilderness<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>, brought up to one's very windows—which, +since the days of the innovators, Kent, and his "bold associates," +Capability Brown and Co., has obtained so largely—this +<i>was</i> a garden! There might be seen the stately terraces, +such as Watteau, and our own Wilson, in his earlier works, +painted—the trim alleys exhibiting all the triumphs of topiarian +art—</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 19em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i7"><i>The sidelong walls</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Of shaven yew; the holly's prickly arms,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Trimm'd into high arcades; the tonsile box,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Wove in mosaic mode of many a curl,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Around the figured carpet of the lawn;</i><a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>the gayest of parterres and greenest of lawns, with its admonitory +sun-dial, its marble basin in the centre, its fountain, +and conched water-god; the quaint summer-house, surmounted +with its gilt vane; the statue, glimmering from out its covert +of leaves; the cool cascade, the urns, the bowers, and a hundred +luxuries besides, suggested and contrived by Art to render +Nature most enjoyable, and to enhance the recreative delights +of home-out-of-doors—for such a garden should be—, with +least sacrifice of indoor comfort and convenience.</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 25em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>When Epicurus to the world had taught,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>That pleasure was the chiefest good;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>—And was perhaps i' th' right, if rightly understood,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>His life he to his doctrine brought—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And in his garden's shade that sovereign pleasure sought.</i><a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>All these delights might once have been enjoyed. But at +the time of which we write, this fair garden was for the most +part a waste. Ill-kept, and unregarded, the gay parterres were +disfigured with weeds; grass grew on the gravel walk; several +of the urns were overthrown; the hour upon the dial was +untold; the fountain was choked up, and the smooth-shaven<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +lawn only rescued, it would seem, from the general fate, that +it might answer the purpose of a bowling-green, as the implements +of that game, scattered about, plainly testified.</p> + +<p>Diverging from the garden to the house, we have before remarked +that the more ancient and characteristic features of +the place had been, for the most part, destroyed; less by the +hand of time than to suit the tastes of different proprietors. +This, however, was not so observable in the eastern wing, +which overlooked the garden. Here might be discerned many +indications of its antiquity. The strength and solidity of the +walls, which had not been, as elsewhere, masked with brickwork; +the low, Tudor arches; the mullioned bars of the +windows—all attested its age. This wing was occupied by an +upper and lower gallery, communicating with suites of chambers, +for the most part deserted, excepting one or two, which +were used as dormitories; and another little room on the +ground-floor, with an oriel window opening upon the lawn, +and commanding the prospect beyond—a favorite resort of +the late Sir Piers. The interior was curious for his honeycomb +ceiling, deeply moulded in plaster, with the arms and +alliances of the Rookwoods. In the centre was the royal +blazon of Elizabeth, who had once honored the hall with a +visit during a progress, and whose cipher <b><i>E. R.</i></b> was also displayed +upon the immense plate of iron which formed the fire-grate.</p> + +<p>To return, for a moment, to the garden, which we linger +about as a bee around a flower. Below the lawn there was +another terrace, edged by a low balustrade of stone, commanding +a lovely view of park, water, and woodland. High hanging-woods +waved in the foreground, and an extensive sweep +of flat champaign country stretched out to meet a line of blue, +hazy hills bounding the distant horizon.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V1" id="CHAPTER_V1"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>SIR REGINALD ROOKWOOD</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>A king who changed his wives as easily as a woman changes her +dress. He threw aside the first, cut off the second's head, the third he +disemboweled: as for the fourth, he pardoned her, and simply turned +her out of doors, but to make matters even, cut off the head of number +five.—<span class="smcap">Victor Hugo</span>: <i>Marie Tudor</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>From the house to its inhabitants the transition is natural. +Besides the connexion between them, there were many points +of resemblance; many family features in common; there was +the same melancholy grandeur, the same character of romance, +the same fantastical display. Nor were the secret passages, +peculiar to the one, wanting to the history of the other. Both +had their mysteries. One blot there was in the otherwise +proud escutcheon of the Rookwoods, that dimmed its splendor, +and made pale its pretensions: their sun was eclipsed +in blood from its rising to its meridian; and so it seemed +would be its setting. This foul reproach attached to all the +race; none escaped it. Traditional rumors were handed down +from father to son, throughout the county, and, like all other +rumors, had taken to themselves wings, and flown abroad; +their crimes became a by-word. How was it they escaped +punishment? How came they to evade the hand of justice? +Proof was ever wanting; justice was ever baffled. They were +a stern and stiff-necked people, of indomitable pride and +resolution, with, for the most part, force of character sufficient +to enable them to breast difficulties and dangers that would +have overwhelmed ordinary individuals. No quality is so advantageous +to its possessor as firmness; and the determined +energy of the Rookwoods bore them harmless through a sea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +of trouble. Besides, they were wealthy; lavish even to profusion; +and gold will do much, if skilfully administered. Yet, +despite all this, a dark, ominous cloud settled over their house, +and men wondered when the vengeance of Heaven, so long +delayed, would fall and consume it.</p> + +<p>Possessed of considerable landed property, once extending +over nearly half the West Riding of Yorkshire, the family increased +in power and importance for an uninterrupted series of +years, until the outbreak of that intestine discord which ended +in the civil wars, when the espousal of the royalist party, with +sword and substance, by Sir Ralph Rookwood, the then lord +of the mansion—a dissolute, depraved personage, who, however, +had been made a Knight of the Bath at the coronation of +Charles I.—, ended in his own destruction at Naseby, and the +wreck of much of his property; a loss which the gratitude of +Charles II., on his restoration, did not fail to make good to +Sir Ralph's youthful heir, Reginald.</p> + +<p>Sir Ralph Rookwood left two sons, Reginald and Alan. The +fate of the latter was buried in obscurity. It was even a mystery +to his family. He was, it was said, a youth of much +promise, and of gentle manners; who, having made an imprudent +match, from jealousy, or some other motive, deserted his +wife, and fled his country. Various reasons were assigned for +his conduct. Amongst others, it was stated that the object of +Alan's jealous suspicions was his elder brother, Reginald; and +that it was the discovery of his wife's infidelity in this quarter +which occasioned his sudden disappearance with his infant +daughter. Some said he died abroad. Others, that he had +appeared again for a brief space at the hall. But all now concurred +in a belief of his decease. Of his child nothing was +known. His inconstant wife, after enduring for some years the +agonies of remorse, abandoned by Sir Reginald, and neglected +by her own relatives, put an end to her existence by poison. +This is all that could be gathered of the story, or the misfortunes +of Alan Rookwood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p>The young Sir Reginald had attended Charles, in the character +of page, during his exile; and if he could not requite the +devotion of the son, by absolutely reinstating the fallen fortunes +of the father, the monarch could at least accord him the fostering +influence of his favor and countenance; and bestow upon +him certain lucrative situations in his household, as an earnest +of his good-will. And thus much he did. Remarkable for his +personal attractions in youth, it is not to be wondered at that +we should find the name of Reginald Rookwood recorded in +the scandalous chronicles of the day, as belonging to a cavalier +of infinite address and discretion, matchless wit, and marvellous +pleasantry; and eminent beyond his peers for his successes with +some of the most distinguished beauties who ornamented that +brilliant and voluptuous court.</p> + +<p>A career of elegant dissipation ended in matrimony. His +first match was unpropitious. Foiled in his attempts upon the +chastity of a lady of great beauty and high honor, he was rash +enough to marry her; rash, we say, for from that fatal hour all +became as darkness; the curtain fell upon the comedy of his +life, to rise to tragic horrors. When, passion subsided, repentance +awoke, and he became anxious for deliverance from the +fetters he had so heedlessly imposed on himself, and on his +unfortunate dame.</p> + +<p>The hapless lady of Sir Reginald was a fair and fragile creature, +floating on the eddying current of existence, and hurried +in destruction as the summer gossamer is swept away by the +rude breeze, and lost forever. So beautiful, so gentle was she, +that if,</p> + +<p class="hd4">Sorrow had not made<br /> +Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self,</p> + +<p>it would have been difficult to say whether the charm of softness +and sweetness was more to be admired than her faultless +personal attractions. But when a tinge of melancholy came, +saddening and shading the once smooth and smiling brow; +when tears dimmed the blue beauty of those deep and tender<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +eyes; when hot, hectic flushes supplied the place of healthful +bloom, and despair took possession of her heart, then was it +seen <i>what</i> was the charm of Lady Rookwood, if charm that +could be called which was a saddening sight to see, and melted +the beholder's soul within him. All acknowledged, that exquisite +as she had been before, the sad, sweet lady was now +more exquisite still.</p> + +<p>Seven moons had waned and flown—seven bitter, tearful +moons—and each day Lady Rookwood's situation claimed more +soothing attention at the hand of her lord. About this time +his wife's brother, whom he hated, returned from the Dutch +wars. Struck with his sister's altered appearance, he readily +divined the cause; indeed, all tongues were eager to proclaim +it to him. Passionately attached to her, Lionel Vavasour implored +an explanation of the cause of his sister's griefs. The +bewildered lady answered evasively, attributing her woe-begone +looks to any other cause than her husband's cruelty; and +pressing her brother, as he valued her peace, her affection, +never to allude to the subject again. The fiery youth departed. +He next sought out his brother-in-law, and taxed him sharply +with his inhumanity, adding threats to his upbraidings. Sir +Reginald listened silently and calmly. When the other had +finished, with a sarcastic obeisance, he replied: "Sir, I am much +beholden for the trouble you have taken in your sister's behalf. +But when she entrusted herself to my keeping, she relinquished, +I conceive, all claim on <i>your</i> guardianship: however, I thank +you for the trouble you have taken; but, for your own sake, I +would venture to caution you against a repetition of interference +like the present."</p> + +<p>"And I, sir, caution <i>you</i>. See that you give heed to my +words, or, by the heaven above us! I will enforce attention to +them."</p> + +<p>"You will find me, sir, as prompt at all times to defend my +conduct, as I am unalterable in my purposes. Your sister is +my wife. What more would you have? Were she a harlot,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +you should have her back and welcome. The tool is virtuous. +Devise some scheme, and take her with you hence—so you rid +<i>me</i> of her I am content."</p> + +<p>"Rookwood, you are a villain." And Vavasour spat upon +his brother's cheek.</p> + +<p>Sir Reginald's eyes blazed. His sword started from its scabbard. +"Defend yourself!" he exclaimed, furiously attacking +Vavasour. Pass after pass was exchanged. Fierce thrusts were +made and parried. Feint and appeal, the most desperate and +dexterous, were resorted to. Their swords glanced like lightning +flashes. In the struggle, the blades became entangled. +There was a moment's cessation. Each glanced at the other +with deadly, inextinguishable hate. Both were admirable +masters of the art of defence. Both were so brimful of wrath +as to be regardless of consequences. They tore back their +weapons. Vavasour's blade shivered. He was at the mercy +of his adversary—an adversary who knew no mercy. Sir +Reginald passed his rapier through his brother's body. The +hilt struck against his ribs.</p> + +<p>Sir Reginald's ire was kindled, not extinguished, by the deed +he had done. Like the tiger, he had tasted blood—like the +tiger, he thirsted for more. He sought his home. He was +greeted by his wife. Terrified by his looks, she yet summoned +courage sufficient to approach him. She embraced his arm—she +clasped his hand. Sir Reginald smiled. His smile was +cutting as his dagger's edge.</p> + +<p>"What ails you, sweetheart?" said he.</p> + +<p>"I know not; your smile frightens me."</p> + +<p>"My smile frightens you—fool! be thankful that I frown +not."</p> + +<p>"Oh! do not frown. Be gentle, my Reginald, as you were +when first I knew you. Smile not so coldly, but as you did +then, that I may, for one instant, dream you love me."</p> + +<p>"Silly wench! There—I <i>do</i> smile."</p> + +<p>"That smile freezes me. Oh, Reginald, could you but know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +what I have endured this morning, on your account. My +brother Lionel has been here."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Nay, look not so. He insisted on knowing the reason of +my altered appearance."</p> + +<p>"And no doubt you made him acquainted with the cause. +You told him <i>your</i> version of the story."</p> + +<p>"Not a word, as I hope to live."</p> + +<p>"A lie!"</p> + +<p>"By my truth, no."</p> + +<p>"A lie, I say. He avouched it to me himself."</p> + +<p>"Impossible! He could not—would not disobey me."</p> + +<p>Sir Reginald laughed bitterly.</p> + +<p>"He would not, I am sure, give utterance to any scandal," +continued Lady Rookwood. "You say this but to try me, do +you not?—ha! what is this? Your hand is bloody. You +have not harmed him? Whose blood is this?"</p> + +<p>"Your brother spat upon my check. I have washed out the +stain," replied Sir Reginald, coldly.</p> + +<p>"Then it <i>is</i> his blood!" shrieked Lady Rookwood, pressing +her hand shuddering before her eyes. "Is he dead?"</p> + +<p>Sir Reginald turned away.</p> + +<p>"Stay," she cried, exerting her feeble strength to retain +him, and becoming white as ashes, "abide and hear me. +You have killed me, I feel, by your cruelty. I am sinking fast—dying. +I, who loved you, only you; yes, one besides—my +brother, and you have slain <i>him</i>. Your hands are dripping +in his blood, and I have kissed them—have clasped them! +And now," continued she, with an energy that shook Sir Reginald, +"I hate you—I renounce you—forever! May my +dying words ring in your ears on your death-bed, for that hour +<i>will</i> come. You cannot shun <i>that</i>. Then think of <i>him</i>! think +of <i>me</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Away!" interrupted Sir Reginald, endeavoring to shake +her off.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I will <i>not</i> away! I will cling to you—will curse you. +My unborn child shall live to curse you—to requite you—to +visit my wrongs on you and yours. Weak as I am, +you shall not cast me off. You shall learn to fear even +<i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>"I fear nothing living, much less a frantic woman."</p> + +<p>"Fear the <i>dead</i>, then."</p> + +<p>There was a struggle—a blow—and the wretched lady sank, +shrieking, upon the floor. Convulsions seized her. A mother's +pains succeeded fierce and fast. She spoke no more, but died +within the hour, giving birth to a female child.</p> + +<p>Eleanor Rookwood became her father's idol—her father's +bane. All the love he had to bestow was centred in her. She +returned it not. She fled from his caresses. With all her +mother's beauty, she had all her father's pride. Sir Reginald's +every thought was for his daughter—for her aggrandizement. +In vain. She seemed only to endure him, and while his affection +waxed stronger, and entwined itself round her alone, she +withered beneath his embraces as the shrub withers in the +clasping folds of the parasite plant.</p> + +<p>She grew towards womanhood. Suitors thronged around +her—gentle and noble ones. Sir Reginald watched them +with a jealous eye. He was wealthy, powerful, high in royal +favor; and could make his own election. He did so. For +the first time, Eleanor promised obedience to his wishes. +They accorded with her own humor. The day was appointed. +It came. But with it came not the bride. She had fled, +with the humblest and the meanest of the pretenders to her +hand—with one upon whom Sir Reginald supposed she had +not deigned to cast her eyes. He endeavored to forget her, +and, to all outward seeming, was successful in the effort. But +he felt that the curse was upon him; the undying flame +scorched his heart.</p> + +<p>Once, and once only, they met again, in France, whither +she had wandered. It was a dread encounter—terrible to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +both; but most so to Sir Reginald. He spoke not of her +afterwards.</p> + +<p>Shortly after the death of his first wife, Sir Reginald had +made proposals to a dowager of distinction, with a handsome +jointure, one of his early attachments, and was, without scruple, +accepted. The power of the family might then be said to be +at its zenith; and but for certain untoward circumstances, and +the growing influence of his enemies, Sir Reginald would have +been elevated to the peerage. Like most reformed spend-thrifts, +he had become proportionately avaricious, and his +mind seemed engrossed in accumulating wealth. In the meantime, +his second wife followed her predecessor, dying, it was +said, of vexation and disappointment.</p> + +<p>The propensity to matrimony, always a distinguishing characteristic +of the Rookwoods, largely displayed itself in Sir Reginald. +Another dame followed—equally rich, younger, and +far more beautiful than her immediate predecessor. She was +a prodigious flirt, and soon set her husband at defiance. Sir +Reginald did not condescend to expostulate. It was not his +way. He effectually prevented any recurrence of her indiscretions. +She was removed, and with her expired Sir Reginald's +waning popularity. So strong was the expression of +odium against him, that he thought it prudent to retire to his +mansion, in the country, and there altogether seclude himself. +One anomaly in Sir Reginald's otherwise utterly selfish character +was uncompromising devotion to the house of Stuart; and +shortly after the abdication of James II., he followed that +monarch to Saint Germain, having previously mixed largely in +secret political intrigues; and only returned from the French +court to lay his bones with those of his ancestry, in the family +vault at Rookwood.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI1" id="CHAPTER_VI1"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>SIR PIERS ROOKWOOD</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>My old master kept a good house, and twenty or thirty tall sword-and-buckler +men about him; and in faith his son differs not much; he +will have metal too; though he has no store of cutler's blades, he will +have plenty of vintners' pots. His father kept a good house for honest +men, his tenants that brought him in part; and his son keeps a bad +house with knaves that help to consume all: 'tis but the change of +time: why should any man repine at it? Crickets, good, loving, and +lucky worms, were wont to feed, sing, and rejoice in the father's chimney; +and now carrion crows build in the son's kitchen.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Wilkins</span>: <i>Miseries of Enforced Marriage</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>Sir Reginald died, leaving issue three children: a daughter, +the before-mentioned Eleanor—who, entirely discountenanced +by the family, had been seemingly forgotten by all but her +father—, and two sons by his third wife. Reginald, the eldest, +whose military taste had early procured him the command +of a company of horse, and whose politics did not coalesce +with those of his sire, fell, during his father's lifetime, at Killiecrankie, +under the banners of William. Piers, therefore, the +second son, succeeded to the title.</p> + +<p>A very different character, in many respects, from his father +and brother, holding in supreme dislike courts and courtiers, +party warfare, political intrigue, and all the subtleties of Jesuitical +diplomacy, neither having any inordinate relish for camps +or campaigns, Sir Piers Rookwood yet displayed in early life +one family propensity, viz., unremitting devotion to the sex. +Among his other mistresses was the unfortunate Susan Bradley, +in whom by some he was supposed to have been clandestinely +united. In early youth, as has been stated, Sir Piers professed +the faith of Rome, but shortly after the death of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +beautiful mistress—or wife, as it might be—, having quarreled +with his father's confessor, Checkley, he publicly abjured his +heresies. Sir Piers subsequently allied himself to Maud, only +daughter of Sir Thomas D'Aubeny, the last of a line as proud +and intolerant as his own. The tables were then turned. +Lady Rookwood usurped sovereign sway over her lord and +Sir Piers, a cipher in his own house, scarce master of himself, +much less of his dame, endured an existence so miserable, +that he was often heard to regret, in his cups, that he had not +inherited, with the estate of his forefathers, the family secret +of shaking off the matrimonial yoke, when found to press too +hardly.</p> + +<p>At the onset, Sir Piers struggled hard to burst his bondage. +But in vain—he was fast fettered; and only bruised himself, +like the caged lark, against the bars of his prison-house. +Abandoning all further effort at emancipation, he gave himself +up to the usual resource of a weak mind, debauchery; and +drank so deeply to drown his cares, that, in the end, his hale +constitution yielded to his excesses. It was even said, that +remorse at his abandonment of the faith of his fathers had +some share in his misery; and that his old spiritual, and if +report spoke truly, sinful adviser, Father Checkley, had visited +him secretly at the hall. Sir Piers was observed to shudder +whenever the priest's name was mentioned.</p> + +<p>Sir Piers Rookwood was a good-humored man in the main, +had little of the old family leaven about him, and was esteemed +by his associates. Of late, however, his temper became soured, +and his friends deserted him; for, between his domestic annoyances, +remorseful feelings, and the inroads already made +upon his constitution by constant inebriety, he grew so desperate +and insane in his revels, and committed such fearful +extravagances, that even his boon companions shrank from his +orgies. Fearful were the scenes between him and Lady Rookwood +upon these occasions—appalling to the witnesses, dreadful +to themselves. And it was, perhaps, their frequent recurrence,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +that, more than anything else, banished all decent +society from the hall.</p> + +<p>At the time of Sir Piers's decease, which brings us down to +the date of our story, his son and successor, Ranulph, was +absent on his travels. Shortly after the completion of his +academical education, he had departed to make the tour of +the Continent, and had been absent rather better than a year. +He had quitted his father in displeasure, and was destined +never again to see his face while living. The last intelligence +received of young Rookwood was from Bordeaux, whence it was +thought he had departed for the Pyrenees. A special messenger +had been despatched in search of him, with tidings of the +melancholy event. But, as it was deemed improbable by +Lady Rookwood that her son could return within any reasonable +space, she gave directions for the accomplishment of the +funeral rites of her husband on the sixth night after his +decease—it being the custom of the Rookwoods ever to inter +their dead at midnight,—intrusting their solemnization entirely +to the care of one of Sir Piers's hangers-on—Dr. Titus Tyrconnel,—for +which she was greatly scandalized in the neighborhood.</p> + +<p>Ranulph Rookwood was a youth of goodly promise. The +stock from which he sprang would on neither side warrant such +conclusion. But it sometimes happens that from the darkest +elements are compounded the brightest and subtlest substances; +and so it occurred in this instance. Fair, frank, and free—generous, +open, unsuspicious—he seemed the very opposite of +all his race—their antagonizing principle. Capriciously indulgent, +his father had allowed him ample means, neither curbing +nor restraining his expenditure; acceding at one moment +to every inclination, and the next irresolutely opposing it. It +was impossible, therefore, for him, in such a state of things, +to act decidedly, without incurring his father's displeasure; +and the only measure he resolved upon, which was to absent +himself for a time, was conjectured to have brought about the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +result he had endeavored to avoid. Other reasons, however, +there were, which secretly influenced him, which it will be our +business in due time to detail.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII1" id="CHAPTER_VII1"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>THE RETURN</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Flam.</i> How croaks the raven?<br /></span> +<span class="i2"> Is our good Duchess dead?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Lod.</i> Dead.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Webster.</span></p></div> + + +<p>The time of the sad ceremonial drew nigh. The hurrying +of the domestics to and fro; the multifarious arrangements for +the night; the distribution of the melancholy trappings, and +the discussion of the "funeral-baked meats," furnished abundant +occupation within doors. Without, there was a constant +stream of the tenantry, thronging down the avenue, +mixed with an occasional horseman, once or twice intercepted +by a large lumbering carriage, bringing friends of the deceased, +some really anxious to pay the last tribute of regard, but the +majority attracted by the anticipated spectacle of a funeral +by torchlight. There were others, indeed, to whom it was not +matter of choice; who were compelled, by a vassal tenure of +their lands, held of the house of Rookwood, to lend a shoulder +to the coffin, and a hand to the torch, on the burial of its lord. +Of these there was a plentiful muster collected in the hall; +they were to be marshalled by Peter Bradley, who was deemed +to be well skilled in the proceedings, having been present at +two solemnities of the kind. That mysterious personage, however, +had not made his appearance—to the great dismay of +the assemblage. Scouts were sent in search of him, but they +returned with the intelligence that the door of his habitation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +was fastened, and its inmate apparently absent. No other +tidings of the truant sexton could be obtained.</p> + +<p>It was a sultry August evening. No breeze was stirring in +the garden; no cool dews refreshed the parched and heated +earth; yet from the languishing flowers rich sweets exhaled. +The plash of a fountain fell pleasantly upon the ear, conveying +in its sound a sense of freshness to the fervid air; while +deep and drowsy murmurs hummed heavily beneath the trees, +making the twilight slumberously musical. The westering sun, +which filled the atmosphere with flame throughout the day, +was now wildly setting; and, as he sank behind the hall, its +varied and picturesque tracery became each instant more darkly +and distinctly defined against the crimson sky.</p> + +<p>At this juncture a little gate, communicating with the chase, +was thrown open, and a young man entered the garden, passing +through the shrubbery, and hurrying rapidly forward till he +arrived at a vista opening upon the house. The spot at which +the stranger halted was marked by a little basin, scantily supplied +with water, streaming from a lion's kingly jaws. His +dress was travel-soiled, and dusty; and his whole appearance +betokened great exhaustion from heat and fatigue. Seating +himself upon an adjoining bench, he threw off his riding-cap, +and unclasped his collar, displaying a finely-turned head and +neck; and a countenance which, besides its beauty, had that +rare nobility of feature which seldom falls to the lot of the +aristocrat, but is never seen in one of an inferior order. A +restless disquietude of manner showed that he was suffering +from over-excitement of mind, as well as from bodily exertion. +His look was wild and hurried; his black ringlets were dashed +heedlessly over a pallid, lofty brow, upon which care was prematurely +written; while his large melancholy eyes were bent, +with a look almost of agony, upon the house before him.</p> + +<p>After a short pause, and as if struggling against violent +emotions, and some overwhelming remembrance, the youth +arose, and plunged his hand into the basin, applying the moist<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +element to his burning brow. Apparently becoming more +calm, he bent his steps towards the hall, when two figures, +suddenly issuing from an adjoining copse, arrested his progress; +neither saw him. Muttering a hurried farewell, one of the +figures disappeared within the shrubbery, and the other, confronting +the stranger, displayed the harsh features and gaunt +form of Peter Bradley. Had Peter encountered the dead Sir +Piers in corporeal form, he could not have manifested more +surprise than he exhibited, for an instant or two, as he shrunk +back from the stranger's path.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII1" id="CHAPTER_VIII1"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>AN IRISH ADVENTURER</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Scapin.</i> A most outrageous, roaring fellow, with a swelled red face +inflamed with brandy.—<i>Cheats of Scapin.</i></p></div> + + +<p>An hour or two prior to the incident just narrated, in a +small, cosy apartment of the hall, nominally devoted to justiciary +business by its late owner, but, in reality, used as a sanctum, +snuggery, or smoking-room, a singular trio were assembled, +fraught with the ulterior purpose of attending the obsequies +of their deceased patron and friend, though immediately +occupied in the discussion of a magnum of excellent claret, +the bouquet of which perfumed the air, like the fragrance of +a bed of violets.</p> + +<p>This little room had been poor Sir Piers's favorite retreat. +It was, in fact, the only room in the house that he could call +his own; and thither would he often, with pipe and punch, +beguile the flagging hours, secure from interruption. A snug, +old-fashioned apartment it was; wainscoted with rich black +oak; with a fine old cabinet of the same material, and a line +or two of crazy, worm-eaten bookshelves, laden with sundry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +dusty, unconsulted law tomes, and a light sprinkling of the +elder divines, equally neglected. The only book, indeed, Sir +Piers ever read, was the "Anatomie of Melancholy;" and he +merely studied Burton because the quaint, racy style of the +learned old hypochondriac suited his humor at seasons, and +gave a zest to his sorrows, such as the olives lent to his +wine.</p> + +<p>Four portraits adorned the walls: those of Sir Reginald +Rookwood and his wives. The ladies were attired in the flowing +drapery of Charles the Second's day, the snow of their +radiant bosoms being somewhat sullied by over-exposure, and +the vermeil tinting of their cheeks darkened by the fumes +of tobacco. There was a shepherdess, with her taper crook, +whose large, languishing eyes, ripe pouting lips, ready to melt +into kisses, and air of voluptuous abandonment, scarcely suited +the innocent simplicity of her costume. She was portrayed +tending a flock of downy sheep, with azure ribbons round +their necks, accompanied by one of those invaluable little dogs +whose length of ear and silkiness of skin evinced him perfect +in his breeding, but whose large-eyed indifference to his charge +proved him to be as much out of character with his situation +as the refined and luxuriant charms of his mistress were out of +keeping with her artless attire. This was Sir Piers's mother, +the third wife, a beautiful woman, answering to the notion of +one who had been somewhat of a flirt in her day. Next to +her was a magnificent dame, with the throat and arm of a +Juno, and a superb bust—the bust was then what the bustle is +now—a paramount attraction; whether the modification be +an improvement, we leave to the consideration of the lovers +of the beautiful—this was the dowager. Lastly, there was the +lovely and ill-fated Eleanor. Every gentle grace belonging to +this unfortunate lady had been stamped in undying beauty on +the canvas by the hand of Lely, breathing a spell on the +picture, almost as powerful as that which had dwelt around +the exquisite original. Over the high carved mantelpiece was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +suspended the portrait of Sir Reginald. It had been painted +in early youth; the features were beautiful, disdainful,—with +a fierceness breaking through the courtly air. The eyes were +very fine, black as midnight, and piercing as those of Cæsar +Borgia, as seen in Raphael's wonderful picture in the Borghese +Palace at Rome. They seemed to fascinate the gazer—to +rivet his glances—to follow him whithersoever he went—and +to search into his soul, as did the dark orbs of Sir Reginald in +his lifetime. It was the work likewise of Lely, and had all +the fidelity and graceful refinement of that great master; nor +was the haughty countenance of Sir Reginald unworthy the +patrician painter.</p> + +<p>No portrait of Sir Piers was to be met with. But in lieu +thereof, depending from a pair of buck's horns, hung the +worthy knight's stained scarlet coat—the same in which he had +ridden forth, with the intent to hunt, on the eventful occasion +detailed by Peter Bradley,—his velvet cap, his buck-handled +whip, and the residue of his equipment for the chase. This +attire was reviewed with melancholy interest and unaffected +emotion by the company, as reminding them forcibly of the +departed, of which it seemed a portion.</p> + +<p>The party consisted of the vicar of Rookwood, Dr. Polycarp +Small; Dr. Titus Tyrconnel, an emigrant, and empirical professor +of medicine, from the sister isle, whose convivial habits +had first introduced him to the hall, and afterwards retained +him there; and Mr. Codicil Coates, clerk of the peace, attorney-at-law, +bailiff, and receiver. We were wrong in saying that +Tyrconnel was retained. He was an impudent, intrusive fellow, +whom, having once gained a footing in the house, it was +impossible to dislodge. He cared for no insult; perceived no +slight; and professed, in her presence, the profoundest respect +for Lady Rookwood: in short, he was ever ready to do anything +but depart.</p> + +<p>Sir Piers was one of those people who cannot dine alone. +He disliked a solitary repast almost as much as a <i>tête-à-tête</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +with his lady. He would have been recognized at once as +the true Amphitryon, had any one been hardy enough to play +the part of Jupiter. Ever ready to give a dinner, he found a +difficulty arise, not usually experienced on such occasions—there +was no one upon whom to bestow it. He had the best +of wine; kept an excellent table; was himself no niggard +host; but his own merits, and those of his <i>cuisine</i>, were forgotten +in the invariable <i>pendant</i> to the feast; and the best of +wine lost its flavor when the last bottle found its way to the +guest's head. Dine alone Sir Piers would not. And as his +old friends forsook him, he plunged lower in his search of +society; collecting within his house a class of persons whom +no one would have expected to meet at the hall, nor even its +owner have chosen for his companions, had any choice remained +to him. He did not endure this state of things without +much outward show of discontent. "Anything for a quiet +life," was his constant saying; and, like the generality of +people with whom those words form a favorite maxim, he led +the most uneasy life imaginable. Endurance, to excite commiseration, +must be uncomplaining—an axiom the aggrieved +of the gentle sex should remember. Sir Piers endured, but +he grumbled lustily, and was on all hands voted a bore; +domestic grievances, especially if the husband be the plaintiff, +being the most intolerable of all mentionable miseries. No +wonder that his friends deserted him; still there was Titus +Tyrconnel; his ears and lips were ever open to pathos and +to punch; so Titus kept his station. Immediately after her +husband's demise, it had been Lady Rookwood's intention to +clear the house of all the "vermin," so she expressed herself, +that had so long infested it; and forcibly to eject Titus, +and one or two other intruders of the same class. But in +consequence of certain hints received from Mr. Coates, who +represented the absolute necessity of complying with Sir Piers's +testamentary instructions, which were particular in that respect, +she thought proper to defer her intentions until after the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +ceremonial of interment should be completed, and, in the +mean time, strange to say, committed its arrangement to Titus +Tyrconnel; who, ever ready to accommodate, accepted, nothing +loth, the charge, and acquitted himself admirably well in +his undertaking: especially, as he said, "in the aiting and +drinking department—the most essential part of it all." He +kept open house—open dining-room—open cellar; resolved +that his patron's funeral should emulate as much as possible +an Irish burial on a grand scale, "the finest sight," in his +opinion, "in the whole world."</p> + +<p>Inflated with the importance of his office, inflamed with +heat, sat Titus, like a "robustious periwig-pated" alderman +after a civic feast. The natural rubicundity of his countenance +was darkened to a deep purple tint, like that of a full-blown +peony, while his ludicrous dignity was augmented by a +shining suit of sables, in which his portly person was invested.</p> + +<p>The first magnum had been discussed in solemn silence; +the cloud, however, which hung over the conclave, disappeared +under the genial influence of "another and a better" bottle, +and gave place to a denser vapor, occasioned by the introduction +of the pipe and its accompaniments.</p> + +<p>Ensconced in a comfortable old chair—it is not every old +chair that <i>is</i> comfortable,—with pipe in mouth, and in full unbuttoned +ease, his bushy cauliflower wig laid aside, by reason +of the heat, reposed Dr. Small. Small, indeed, was somewhat +of a misnomer, as applied to the worthy doctor, who, besides +being no diminutive specimen of his kind, entertained no insignificant +opinion of himself. His height was certainly not +remarkable; but his width of shoulder—his sesquipedality of +stomach—and obesity of calf—these were unique! Of his +origin we know nothing; but presume he must, in some way +or other, have been connected with the numerous family of +"the Smalls," who, according to Christopher North, form the +predominant portion of mankind. In appearance, the doctor +was short-necked and puffy, with a sodden, pasty face, wherein<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +were set eyes whose obliquity of vision was, in some measure, +redeemed by their expression of humor. He was accounted +a man of parts and erudition, and had obtained high honors +at his university. Rigidly orthodox, he abominated the very +names of Papists and Jacobites, amongst which heretical herd +he classed his companion, Mr. Titus Tyrconnel—Ireland being +with him synonymous with superstition and Catholicism—and +every Irishman rebellious and schismatical. On this head +he was inclined to be disputatious. His prejudices did not +prevent him from passing the claret, nor from laughing, as +heartily as a plethoric asthma and sense of the decorum due +to the occasion would permit, at the quips and quirks of the +Irishman, who, he admitted, notwithstanding his heresies, was +a pleasant fellow in the main. And when, in addition to the +flattery, a pipe had been insinuated by the officious Titus, at +the precise moment that Small yearned for his afternoon's solace, +yet scrupled to ask for it; when the door had been made +fast, and the first whiff exhaled, all his misgivings vanished, and +he surrendered himself to the soft seduction. In this Elysian +state we find him.</p> + +<p>"Ah! you may say that, Dr. Small," said Titus, in answer +to some observation of the vicar, "that's a most original apothegm. +We all of us hould our lives by a thrid. Och! +many's the sudden finale I have seen. Many's the fine fellow's +heels tripped up unawares, when least expected. Death +hangs over our heads by a single hair, as your reverence says, +precisely like the sword of Dan Maclise,<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> the flatterer of Dinnish +what-do-you-call-him, ready to fall at a moment's notice, +or no notice at all—eh?—Mr. Coates. And that brings me +back again to Sir Piers—poor gentleman—ah! we sha'n't +soon see the like of him again!"</p> + +<p>"Poor Sir Piers!" said Mr. Coates, a small man, in a +scratch wig, with a face red and round as an apple, and almost +as diminutive. "It is to be regretted that his over-conviviality +should so much have hastened his lamented demise."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Conviviality!" replied Titus; "no such thing—it was +apoplexy—extravasation of <i>sarum</i>."</p> + +<p>"Extra vase-ation of rum and water, you mean," replied +Coates, who, like all his tribe, rejoiced in a quibble.</p> + +<p>"The squire's ailment," continued Titus, "was a sanguineous +effusion, as we call it—positive determination of blood to +the head, occasioned by a low way he got into, just before his +attack—a confirmed case of hypochondriasis, as that <i>ould</i> book +Sir Piers was so fond of terms the blue devils. He neglected +the bottle, which, in a man who has been a hard drinker all +his life, is a bad sign. The lowering system never answers—never. +Doctor, I'll just trouble you"—for Small, in a fit of +absence, had omitted to pass the bottle, though not to help +himself. "Had he stuck to <i>this</i>"—holding up a glass, ruby +bright—"the elixir vitæ—the grand panacea—he might have +been hale and hearty at this present moment, and as well as +any of us. But he wouldn't be advised. To my thinking, as +that was the case, he'd have been all the better for a little of +your reverence's sperretual advice; and his conscience having +been relieved by confession and absolution, he might have +opened a fresh account with an aisy heart and clane breast."</p> + +<p>"I trust, sir," said Small, gravely withdrawing his pipe from +his lips, "that Sir Piers Rookwood addressed himself to a +higher source than a sinning creature of clay like himself for +remission of his sins; but, if there was any load of secret guilt +that might have weighed heavy upon his conscience, it is to +be regretted that he refused the last offices of the church, and +died incommunicate. I was denied all admittance to his +chamber."</p> + +<p>"Exactly my case," said Mr. Coates, pettishly. "I was +refused entrance, though my business was of the utmost importance—certain +dispositions—special bequests—matter connected +with his sister—for though the estate is entailed, yet +still there are charges—you understand me—very strange to +refuse to see <i>me</i>. Some people may regret it—may live to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +regret it, I say—that's all. I've just sent up a package to +Lady Rookwood, which was not to be delivered till after Sir +Piers's death. Odd circumstance that—been in my custody +a long while—some reason to think Sir Piers meant to alter +his will—ought to have seen <i>me</i>—sad neglect!"</p> + +<p>"More's the pity. But it was none of poor Sir Piers's +doing!" replied Titus; "he had no will of his own, poor fellow, +during his life, and the devil a will was he likely to have after +his death. It was all Lady Rookwood's doing," added he, in +a whisper. "I, his medical adviser and confidential friend, was +ordered out of the room; and, although I knew it was as much +as his life was worth to leave him for a moment in that state, +I was forced to comply: and, would you believe it, as I left +the room, I heard high words. Yes, doctor, as I hope to be +saved, words of anger from her at that awful juncture."</p> + +<p>The latter part of this speech was uttered in a low tone, and +very mysterious manner. The speakers drew so closely together, +that the bowls of their pipes formed a common centre, +whence the stems radiated. A momentary silence ensued, +during which each man puffed for very life. Small next +knocked the ashes from his tube, and began to replenish it, +coughing significantly. Mr. Coates expelled a thin, curling +stream of vapor from a minute orifice in the corner of his +almost invisible mouth, and arched his eyebrows in a singular +manner, as if he dared not trust the expression of his thoughts +to any other feature. Titus shook his huge head, and, upon +the strength of a bumper which he swallowed, mustered resolution +enough to unburden his bosom.</p> + +<p>"By my sowl," said he, mysteriously, "I've seen enough +lately to frighten any quiet gentleman out of his senses. I'll +not get a wink of sleep, I fear, for a week to come. There +must have been something dreadful upon Sir Piers's mind; +sure—nay, there's no use in mincing the matter with <i>you</i>—in +a word, then, some crime too deep to be divulged."</p> + +<p>"Crime!" echoed Coates and Small, in a breath.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ay, crime!" repeated Titus. "Whist! not so loud, lest +any one should overhear us. Poor Sir Piers, he's dead now. +I'm sure you both loved him as I did, and pity and pardon +him if he was guilty; for certain am I that no soul ever took +its flight more heavily laden than did that of our poor friend. +Och! it was a terrible ending. But you shall hear <i>how</i> he +died, and judge for yourselves. When I returned to his room +after Lady Rookwood's departure, I found him quite delirious. +I knew death was not far off then. One minute he was in the +chase, cheering on the hounds. 'Halloo! tallyho!' cried +he: 'who clears that fence?—who swims that stream?' The +next, he was drinking, carousing, and hurrahing, at the head of +his table. 'Hip! hip! hip!'—as mad, and wild, and frantic +as ever he used to be when wine had got the better of him; +and then all of a sudden, in the midst of his shouting, he +stopped, exclaiming, 'What! here again?—who let her in?—the +door is fast—I locked it myself. Devil! why did you open +it?—you have betrayed me—she will poison me—and I cannot +resist. Ha! another! Who—who is that?—her face is +white—her hair hangs about her shoulders. Is she alive again? +Susan! Susan! why that look? You loved me well—too well. +You will not drag me to perdition! You will not appear +against me! No, no, no—it is not in your nature—you +whom I doted on, whom I loved—whom I—but I repented—I +sorrowed—I prayed—prayed! Oh! oh! no prayers would +avail. Pray for me, Susan—for ever! <i>Your</i> intercession may +avail. It is not too late. I will do justice to all. Bring me +pen and ink—paper—I will confess—<i>he</i> shall have all. Where +is my sister? I would speak with her—would tell her—tell +her. Call Alan Rookwood—I shall die before I can tell it. +Come hither,' said he to me. 'There is a dark, dreadful secret +on my mind—it must forth. Tell my sister—no, my senses +swim—Susan is near me—fury in her eyes—avenging fury—keep +her off. What is this white mass in my arms? what +do I hold? is it the corpse by my side, as it lay that long,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +long night? It is—it is. Cold, stiff, stirless as then. White—horribly +white—as when the moon, that would not set, showed +all its ghastliness. Ah! it moves, embraces me, stifles, suffocates +me. Help! remove the pillow. I cannot breathe—I +choke—oh!' And now I am coming to the strangest part +of my story—and, strange as it may sound, every word is as +true as Gospel."</p> + +<p>"Ahem!" coughed Small.</p> + +<p>"Well, at this moment—this terrible moment—what should +I hear but a tap against the wainscot. Holy Virgin! how it +startled me. My heart leapt to my mouth in an instant, and +then went thump, thump, against my ribs. But I said nothing, +though you may be sure I kept my ears wide open—and +then presently I heard the tap repeated somewhat louder, and +shortly afterwards a third—I should still have said nothing, but +Sir Piers heard the knock, and raised himself at the summons, +as if it had been the last trumpet. 'Come in,' cried he, in a +dying voice; and Heaven forgive me if I confess that I expected +a certain person, whose company one would rather dispense +with upon such an occasion, to step in. However, +though it wasn't the ould gentleman, it was somebody near +akin to him; for a door I had never seen, and never even +dreamed of, opened in the wall, and in stepped Peter Bradley—ay, +you may well stare, gentlemen; but it was Peter, looking +as stiff as a crowbar, and as blue as a mattock. Well, he +walked straight up to the bed of the dying man, and bent his +great, diabolical gray eyes upon him, laughing all the while—yes, +laughing—you know the cursed grin he has. To proceed. +'You have called me,' said he to Sir Piers; 'I am here. What +would you with me?'—'We are not alone,' groaned the dying +man. 'Leave us, Mr. Tyrconnel—leave me for five minutes—only +five, mark me.'—'I'll go,' thinks I, 'but I shall never +see you again alive.' And true enough it was—I never did +see him again with breath in his body. Without more ado, I +left him, and I had scarcely reached the corridor when I heard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +the door bolted behind me. I then stopped to listen: and +I'm sure you'll not blame me when I say I clapped my eye to +the keyhole; for I suspected something wrong. But, Heaven +save us! that crafty gravedigger had taken his precautions too +well. I could neither see nor hear anything, except after a +few minutes, a wild unearthly screech. And then the door +was thrown open, and I, not expecting it, was precipitated +head foremost into the room, to the great damage of my nose. +When I got up, Peter had vanished, I suppose, as he came; +and there was poor Sir Piers leaning back upon the pillow +with his hands stretched out as if in supplication, his eyes +unclosed and staring, and his limbs stark and stiff!"</p> + +<p>A profound silence succeeded this narrative. Mr. Coates +would not venture upon a remark. Dr. Small seemed, for +some minutes, lost in painful reflection; at length he spoke: +"You have described a shocking scene, Mr. Tyrconnel, and +in a manner that convinces me of its fidelity. But I trust you +will excuse me, as a friend of the late Sir Piers, in requesting +you to maintain silence in future on the subject. Its repetition +can be productive of no good, and may do infinite harm by +giving currency to unpleasant reports, and harrowing the feelings +of the survivors. Every one acquainted with Sir Piers's +history must be aware, as I dare say you are already, of an +occurrence which cast a shade over his early life, blighted his +character, and endangered his personal safety. It was a dreadful +accusation. But I believe, nay, I am sure, it was unfounded. +Dark suspicions attach to a Romish priest of the name of +Checkley. He, I believe, is beyond the reach of human justice. +Erring Sir Piers was, undoubtedly. But I trust he was +more weak than sinful. I have reason to think he was the +tool of others, especially of the wretch I have named. And +it is easy to perceive how that incomprehensible lunatic, Peter +Bradley, has obtained an ascendancy over him. His daughter, +you are aware, was Sir Piers's mistress. Our friend is now +gone, and with him let us bury his offences, and the remembrance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +of them. That his soul was heavily laden, would appear +from your account of his last moments; yet I fervently trust +that his repentance was sincere, in which case there is hope +of forgiveness for him. 'At what time soever a sinner shall +repent him of his sins, from the bottom of his heart, I will +blot out all his wickedness out of my remembrance, saith the +Lord.' Heaven's mercy is greater than man's sins. And there +is hope of salvation even for Sir Piers."</p> + +<p>"I trust so, indeed," said Titus, with emotion; "and as to +repeating a syllable of what I have just said, devil a word more +will I utter on the subject. My lips shall be shut and sealed, +as close as one of Mr. Coates's bonds, for ever and a day: but +I thought it just right to make you acquainted with the circumstances. +And now, having dismissed the bad for ever, I am +ready to speak of Sir Piers's good qualities, and not few they +were. What was there becoming a gentleman that he couldn't +do, I'd like to know? Couldn't he hunt as well as ever a one +in the county? and hadn't he as good a pack of hounds? +Couldn't he shoot as well, and fish as well, and drink as well, +or better?—only he couldn't carry his wine, which was his +misfortune, not his fault. And wasn't he always ready to ask +a friend to dinner with him? and didn't he give him a good +dinner when he came, barring the cross-cups afterwards? +And hadn't he everything agreeable about him, except his +wife? which was a great drawback. And with all his peculiarities +and humors, wasn't he as kind-hearted a man as needs +be? and an Irishman at the core? And so, if he wern't dead, +I'd say long life to him! But as he is, here's peace to his +memory!"</p> + +<p>At this juncture, a knocking was heard at the door, which +some one without had vainly tried to open. Titus rose to unclose +it, ushering in an individual known at the hall as Jack +Palmer.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX1" id="CHAPTER_IX1"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>AN ENGLISH ADVENTURER</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Mrs. Peachem.</i> Sure the captain's the finest gentleman on the road.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Beggar's Opera.</i></p></div> + + +<p>Jack Palmer was a good-humored, good-looking man, with +immense bushy, red whiskers, a freckled, florid complexion, +and sandy hair, rather inclined to scantiness towards the scalp +of the head, which garnished the nape of his neck with a ruff +of crisp little curls, like the ring on a monk's shaven crown. +Notwithstanding this tendency to baldness, Jack could not +be more than thirty, though his looks were some five years in +advance. His face was one of those inexplicable countenances, +which appear to be proper to a peculiar class of men—a +regular Newmarket physiognomy—compounded chiefly of +cunning and assurance; not low cunning, nor vulgar assurance, +but crafty sporting subtlety, careless as to results, indifferent to +obstacles, ever on the alert for the main chance, game and +turf all over, eager, yet easy, keen, yet quiet. He was somewhat +showily dressed, in such wise that he looked half like a +fine gentleman of that day, half like a jockey of our own. His +nether man appeared in well-fitting, well-worn buckskins, and +boots with tops, not unconscious of the saddle; while the +airy extravagance of his broad-skirted, sky-blue riding coat, the +richness of his vest—the pockets of which were beautifully +exuberant, according to the mode of 1737—the smart luxuriance +of his cravat, and a certain curious taste in the size +and style of his buttons, proclaimed that, in his own esteem +at least, his person did not appear altogether unworthy of +decoration; nor, in justice to Jack, can we allow that he was in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +error. He was a model of a man for five feet ten; square, +compact, capitally built in every particular, excepting that his +legs were slightly imbowed, which defect probably arose from +his being almost constantly on horseback; a sort of exercise +in which Jack greatly delighted, and was accounted a superb +rider. It was, indeed, his daring horsemanship, upon one particular +occasion, when he had outstripped a whole field, that +had procured him the honor of an invitation to Rookwood. +Who he was, or whence he came, was a question not easily +answered—Jack, himself, evading all solution to the inquiry. +Sir Piers never troubled his head about the matter: he was a +"deuced good fellow—rode well, and stood on no sort of ceremony;" +that was enough for him. Nobody else knew anything +about him, save that he was a capital judge of horseflesh, +kept a famous black mare, and attended every hunt in the +West Riding—that he could sing a good song, was a choice +companion, and could drink three bottles without feeling the +worse for them.</p> + +<p>Sensible of the indecorum that might attach to his appearance, +Dr. Small had hastily laid down his pipe, and arranged his wig. +But when he saw who was the intruder, with a grunt of defiance +he resumed his occupation, without returning the bow of the +latter, or bestowing further notice upon him. Nothing discomposed +at the churchman's displeasure, Jack greeted Titus cordially, +and carelessly saluting Mr. Coates, threw himself into +a chair. He next filled a tumbler of claret, and drained it at +a draught.</p> + +<p>"Have you ridden far, Jack?" asked Titus, noticing the +dusty state of Palmer's azure attire.</p> + +<p>"Some dozen miles," replied Palmer; "and that, on such a +sultry afternoon as the present, makes one feel thirstyish. I'm +as dry as a sandbed. Famous wine this—beautiful tipple—better +than all your red fustian. Ah, how poor Sir Piers used +to like it! Well, that's all over—a glass like this might do him +good in his present quarters! I'm afraid I'm intruding. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +the fact is, I wanted a little information about the order of the +procession, and missing you below, came hither in search of +you. You're to be chief mourner, I suppose, Titus—<i>rehearsing</i> +your part, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Jack, no joking," replied Titus; "the subject's +too serious. I am to be chief mourner—and I expect +you to be a mourner—and everybody else to be mourners. +We must all mourn at the proper time. There'll be a power +of people at the church."</p> + +<p>"There <i>are</i> a power of people here already," returned Jack, +"if they all attend."</p> + +<p>"And they all <i>will</i> attend, or what is the eating and drinking +to go for? I sha'n't leave a soul in the house."</p> + +<p>"Excepting one," said Jack, archly. "Lady Rookwood +won't attend, I think."</p> + +<p>"Ay, excepting her ladyship and her ladyship's abigail. All +the rest go with me, and form part of the procession. You go +too."</p> + +<p>"Of course. At what time do you start?"</p> + +<p>"Twelve precisely. As the clock strikes, we set out—all in +a line, and a long line we'll make. I'm waiting for that ould +coffin-faced rascal, Peter Bradley, to arrange the order."</p> + +<p>"How long will it all occupy, think you?" asked Jack, +carelessly.</p> + +<p>"That I can't say," returned Titus; "possibly an hour, +more or less. But we shall start to the minute—that is, if we +can get all together, so don't be out of the way. And hark +ye, Jack, you must contrive to change your toggery. That +sky-blue coat won't do. It's not the thing at all, at all."</p> + +<p>"Never fear that," replied Palmer. "But who were those +in the carriages?"</p> + +<p>"Is it the last carriage you mean? Squire Forester and +his sons. They're dining with the other gentlefolk, in the +great room up-stairs, to be out of the way. Oh, we'll have a +grand <i>berrin'</i>. And, by St. Patrick! I must be looking after it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Stay a minute," said Jack; "let's have a cool bottle first. +They are all taking care of themselves below, and Peter Bradley +has not made his appearance, so you need be in no hurry. +I'll go with you presently. Shall I ring for the claret?"</p> + +<p>"By all means," replied Titus.</p> + +<p>Jack accordingly arose; and a butler answering the summons, +a long-necked bottle was soon placed before them.</p> + +<p>"You heard of the affray last night, I presume?" said Jack, +renewing the conversation.</p> + +<p>"With the poachers? To be sure I did. Wasn't I called +in to examine Hugh Badger's wounds the first thing this +morning; and a deep cut there was, just over the eye, besides +other bruises."</p> + +<p>"Is the wound dangerous?" inquired Palmer.</p> + +<p>"Not exactly mortal, if you mean that," replied the Irishman; +"dangerous, certainly."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" exclaimed Jack; "they'd a pretty hardish bout +of it, I understand. Anything been heard of the body?"</p> + +<p>"What body?" inquired Small, who was half-dozing.</p> + +<p>"The body of the drowned poacher," replied Jack; "they +were off to search for it this morning."</p> + +<p>"Found it—not they!" exclaimed Titus. "Ha, ha!—I +can't help laughing, for the life and <i>sowl</i> of me; a capital trick +he played 'em,—capital—ha, ha! What do you think the +fellow did? Ha, ha!—after leading 'em the devil's dance, all +around the park, killing a hound as savage as a wolf, and breaking +Hugh Badger's head, which is as hard and thick as a +butcher's block, what does the fellow do but dive into a pool, +with a great rock hanging over it, and make his way to the +other side, through a subterranean cavern, which nobody knew +anything about, till they came to drag it, thinking him snugly +drowned all the while—ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha, ha!" chorused Jack; "bravo! he's a lad of the +right sort—ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>"He! who?" inquired the attorney.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, the poacher, to be sure," replied Jack; "who else +were we talking about?"</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon," returned Coates; "I thought you might have +heard some intelligence. We've got an eye upon him. We +know who it was."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" exclaimed Jack; "and who was it?"</p> + +<p>"A fellow known by the name of Luke Bradley."</p> + +<p>"Zounds!" cried Titus, "you don't say it was he? Murder +in Irish! that bates everything; why, he was Sir Piers's——"</p> + +<p>"Natural son," replied the attorney; "he has not been heard +of for some time—shockingly incorrigible rascal—impossible +to do anything with him."</p> + +<p>"You don't say so?" observed Jack. "I've heard Sir Piers +speak of the lad; and, by his account, he's as fine a fellow as +ever crossed tit's back; only a little wildish and unreasonable, +as the best of us may be; wants breaking, that's all. Your +skittish colt makes the best horse, and so would he. To speak +the truth, I'm glad he escaped."</p> + +<p>"So am I," rejoined Titus; "for, in the first place, I've a +foolish partiality for poachers, and am sorry when any of 'em +come to hurt; and, in the second, I'd be mighty displeased +if any ill had happened to one of Sir Piers's flesh and blood, +as this young chap appears to be."</p> + +<p>"Appears to be!" repeated Palmer; "there's no <i>appearing</i> +in the case, I take it. This Bradley's an undoubted offshoot +of the old squire. His mother was a servant-maid at the hall, +I rather think. You sir," continued he, addressing Coates, +"perhaps, can inform us of the real facts of the case."</p> + +<p>"She was something better than a servant," replied the +attorney, with a slight cough and a knowing wink. "I remember +her quite well, though I was but a boy then; a lovely +creature, and so taking, I don't wonder that Sir Piers was +smitten with her. He was mad after the women in those days, +and pretty Sue Bradley above all others. She lived with him +quite like his lady."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So I've heard," returned Jack; "and she remained with +him till her death. Let me see, wasn't there something rather +odd in the way in which she died, rather suddenish and unexpected,—a +noise made about it at the time, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Not that I ever heard," replied Coates, shaking his head, +and appearing to be afflicted with an instantaneous ignorance; +while Titus affected not to hear the remark, but occupied himself +with his wine-glass. Small snored audibly. "I was too +young, then, to pay any attention to idle rumors," continued +Coates. "It's a long time ago. May I ask the reason of +your inquiry?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing further than simple curiosity," replied Jack, enjoying +the consternation of his companions. "It is, as you say, +a long while since. But it's singular how that sort of thing +is remembered. One would think people had something else +to do than talk of one's private affairs for ever. For my part, +I despise such tattle. But there <i>are</i> persons in the neighborhood +who still say it was an awkward business. Amongst +others, I've heard that this very Luke Bradley talks in pretty +plain terms about it."</p> + +<p>"Does he, indeed?" said Coates. "So much the worse +for him. Let me once lay hands upon him, and I'll put a gag +in his mouth that shall spoil his talking in the future."</p> + +<p>"That's precisely the point I desire to arrive at," replied +Jack; "and I advise you by all means to accomplish that, for +the sake of the family. Nobody likes his friends to be talked +about. So I'd settle the matter amicably, were I you. Just +let the fellow go his way; he won't return here again in a hurry, +I'll be bound. As to clapping him in quod, he might prattle—turn +stag."</p> + +<p>"Turn stag!" replied Coates, "what the deuce is that? In +my opinion, he has 'turned stag' already. At all events, he'll +pay <i>deer</i> for his night's sport, you may depend upon it. What +signifies it what <i>he</i> says? Let me lay hands upon him, +that's all."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, well," said Jack, "no offence. I only meant to offer +a suggestion. I thought the family, young Sir Ranulph, I mean, +mightn't like the story to be revived. As to Lady Rookwood, +she don't, I suppose, care much about idle reports. Indeed, +if I've been rightly informed, she bears this youngster no particular +good-will to begin with, and has tried hard to get him +out of the country. But, as you say, what <i>does</i> it signify what +he says? he can <i>only</i> talk. Sir Piers is dead and gone."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" muttered Coates, peevishly.</p> + +<p>"But it does seem a little hard, that a lad should swing for +killing a bit of venison in his own father's park."</p> + +<p>"Which he'd a <i>nat'ral</i> right to do," cried Titus.</p> + +<p>"He had no natural right to bruise, violently assault, and +endanger the life of his father's, or anybody else's gamekeeper," +retorted Coates. "I tell you, sir, he's committed a capital +offence, and if he's taken——"</p> + +<p>"No chance of that, I hope," interrupted Jack.</p> + +<p>"That's a wish I can't help wishing myself," said Titus: +"on my conscience, these poachers are fine boys, when all's +said and done."</p> + +<p>"The finest of all boys," exclaimed Jack, with a kindred +enthusiasm, "are those birds of the night, and minions of the +moon, whom we call, most unjustly, poachers. They are, +after all, only <i>professional sportsmen</i>, making a business of what +we make a pleasure; a nightly pursuit of what is to us a daily +relaxation; there's the main distinction. As to the rest, it's +all in idea; they merely thin an overstocked park, as <i>you</i> +would reduce a plethoric patient, doctor; or as <i>you</i> would +work a moneyed client, if you got him into Chancery, Mister +Attorney. And then how much more scientifically and systematically +they set to work than we amateurs do! how noiselessly +they bag a hare, smoke a pheasant, or knock a buck down +with an air-gun! how independent are they of any license, +except that of a good eye, and a swift pair of legs! how unnecessary +is it for them to ask permission to shoot over Mr. So-and-so's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +grounds, or my Lord That's preserves! they are free +of every cover, and indifferent to any alteration in the game +laws. I've some thoughts, when everything else fails, of taking +to poaching myself. In my opinion, a poacher's a highly +respectable character. What say you, Mr. Coates?" turning +very gravely to that gentleman.</p> + +<p>"Such a question, sir," replied Coates, bridling up, "scarcely +deserves a serious answer. I make no doubt you will next +maintain that a highwayman is a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"Most undoubtedly," replied Palmer, in the same grave tone, +which might have passed for banter, had Jack ever bantered. +"I'll maintain and prove it. I don't see how he can be otherwise. +It is as necessary for a man to be a gentleman before he +can turn highwayman, as it is for a doctor to have his diploma, +or an attorney his certificate. Some of the finest gentlemen of +their day, as Captain Lovelace, Hind, Hannum, and Dudley, +were eminent on the road, and they set the fashion. Ever since +their day a real highwayman would consider himself disgraced, +if he did not conduct himself in every way like a gentleman. +Of course, there are pretenders in this line, as in everything else. +But these are only exceptions, and prove the rule. What are +the distinguishing characteristics of a fine gentleman?—perfect +knowledge of the world—perfect independence of character—notoriety—command +of cash—and inordinate success with the +women. You grant all these premises? First, then, it is +part of a highwayman's business to be thoroughly acquainted +with the world. He is the easiest and pleasantest fellow going. +There is Tom King, for example: he is the handsomest man +about town, and the best-bred fellow on the road. Then +whose inclinations are so uncontrolled as the highwayman's, so +long as the mopuses last? who produces so great an effect by +so few words?—'<span class="smcap">Stand and deliver!</span>' is sure to arrest attention. +Every one is captivated by an address so <i>taking</i>. As to money, +he wins a purse of a hundred guineas as easily as you would +the same sum from the faro table. And wherein lies the difference?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +only in the name of the game. Who so little need of +a banker as he? all he has to apprehend is a check—all he has +to draw is a trigger. As to the women, they dote upon him: +not even your red-coat is so successful. Look at a highwayman +mounted on his flying steed, with his pistols in his holsters, +and his mask upon his face. What can be a more gallant sight? +The clatter of his horse's heels is like music to his ear—he is +in full quest—he shouts to the fugitive horseman to stay—the +other flies all the faster—what chase can be half so exciting as +that? Suppose he overtakes his prey, which ten to one he will, +how readily his summons to deliver is obeyed! how satisfactory +is the appropriation of a lusty purse or corpulent pocket-book!—getting +the brush is nothing to it. How tranquilly +he departs, takes off his hat to his accommodating acquaintance, +wishes him a pleasant journey, and disappears across the +heath! England, sir, has reason to be proud of her highwaymen. +They are peculiar to her clime, and are as much before +the brigand of Italy, the contrabandist of Spain, or the cut-purse +of France—as her sailors are before all the rest of the +world. The day will never come, I hope, when we shall degenerate +into the footpad, and lose our <i>Night Errantry</i>. Even the +French borrow from us—they have only one highwayman of +eminence, and he learnt and practised his art in England."</p> + +<p>"And who was he, may I ask?" said Coates.</p> + +<p>"Claude Du-Val," replied Jack; "and though a Frenchman, +he was a deuced fine fellow in his day—quite a tip-top +macaroni—he could skip and twirl like a figurant, warble like +an opera-singer, and play the flageolet better than any man of +his day—he always carried a lute in his pocket, along with his +snappers. And then his dress—it was quite beautiful to see +how smartly he was rigg'd out, all velvet and lace; and even +with his vizard on his face, the ladies used to cry out to see +him. Then he took a purse with the air and grace of a +receiver-general. All the women adored him—and that, bless +their pretty faces! was the best proof of his gentility. I wish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +he'd not been a Mounseer. The women never mistake. <i>They</i> +can always discover the true gentlemen, and they were all, of +every degree, from the countess to the kitchen-maid, over +head and ears in love with him."</p> + +<p>"But he was taken, I suppose?" asked Coates.</p> + +<p>"Ay," responded Jack, "the women were his undoing, as +they've been many a brave fellow's before, and will be again." +Touched by which reflection, Jack became for once in his life +sentimental, and sighed. "Poor Du-Val! he was seized at the +Hole-in-the-Wall in Chandos-street by the bailiff of Westminster, +when dead drunk, his liquor having been drugged by +his dells—and was shortly afterwards hanged at Tyburn."</p> + +<p>"It was thousand pities," said Mr. Coates, with a sneer, +"that so fine a gentleman should come to so ignominious an +end!"</p> + +<p>"Quite the contrary," returned Jack. "As his biographer, +Doctor Pope, properly remarks, 'Who is there worthy of the +name of man, that would not prefer such a death before a +mean, solitary, inglorious life?' By-the-by, Titus, as we're +upon the subject, if you like I'll sing you a song about highwaymen."</p> + +<p>"I should like it of all things," replied Titus, who entertained +a very favorable opinion of Jack's vocal powers, and +was by no means an indifferent performer; "only let it be in +a minor key."</p> + +<p>Jack required no further encouragement, but disregarding +the hints and looks of Coates, sang with much unction the +following ballad to a good old tune, then very popular—the +merit of which "nobody can deny."</p> + + +<p class="hd1">A CHAPTER OF HIGHWAYMEN</p> +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 27em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of every rascal of every kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The most notorious to my mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was the Cavalier Captain, gay <span class="smcap">Jemmy Hind</span>!<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i15"><i>Which nobody can deny.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the pleasantest coxcomb among them all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For lute, coranto, and madrigal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was the galliard Frenchman, <span class="smcap">Claude Du-Val</span>!<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i15"><i>Which nobody can deny.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Tobygloak never a coach could rob,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could lighten a pocket, or empty a fob,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a neater hand than <span class="smcap">Old Mob</span>, <span class="smcap">Old Mob</span>!<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i15"><i>Which nobody can deny.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor did housebreaker ever deal harder knocks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the stubborn lid of a good strong box,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than that prince of good fellows, <span class="smcap">Tom Cox</span>, <span class="smcap">Tom Cox</span>!<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i15"><i>Which nobody can deny.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A blither fellow on broad highway,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did never with oath bid traveller stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than devil-may-care <span class="smcap">Will Holloway</span>!<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i15"><i>Which nobody can deny.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And in roguery naught could exceed the tricks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of <span class="smcap">Gettings</span> and <span class="smcap">Grey</span>, and the five or six<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who trod in the steps of bold <span class="smcap">Neddy Wicks</span>!<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i15"><i>Which nobody can deny.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor could any so handily break a lock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As <span class="smcap">Sheppard</span>, who stood on the Newgate dock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And nicknamed the jailers around him "<i>his flock</i>!"<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i15"><i>Which nobody can deny.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor did highwaymen ever before possess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ease, for security, danger, distress,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such a mare as <span class="smcap">Dick Turpin's</span> Black Bess! Black Bess!<br /></span> +<span class="i15"><i>Which nobody can deny.</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"A capital song, by the powers!" cried Titus, as Jack's ditty +came to a close. "But your English robbers are nothing at +all, compared with our Tories<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> and Rapparees—nothing at all. +They were the <i>raal</i> gentlemen—they were the boys to cut a +throat <i>aisily</i>."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" exclaimed Jack, in disgust, "the gentlemen I +speak of never maltreated any one, except in self-defence."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Maybe not," replied Titus; "I'll not dispute the point—but +these Rapparees were true brothers of the blade, and gentlemen +every inch. I'll just sing you a song I made about them +myself. But meanwhile don't let's forget the bottle—talking's +dry work. My service to you, doctor!" added he, winking at +the somnolent Small. And tossing off his glass, Titus delivered +himself with much joviality of the following ballad; the words of +which he adapted to the tune of the <i>Groves of the Pool</i>:</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE RAPPAREES</p> +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 38em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let the Englishman boast of his Turpins and Sheppards, as cocks of the walk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Mulsacks, and Cheneys, and Swiftnecks<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a>—it's all botheration and talk;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Compared with the robbers of Ireland, they don't come within half a mile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There never were yet any rascals like those of my own native isle!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">First and foremost comes <span class="smcap">Redmond O'Hanlon</span>, allowed the first thief of the world,<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That o'er the broad province of Ulster the Rapparee banner unfurled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Och! he was an elegant fellow, as ever you saw in your life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At fingering the blunderbuss trigger, or handling the throat-cutting knife.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then such a dare-devil squadron as that which composed <span class="smcap">Redmond's</span> <i>tail</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meel, Mactigh, Jack Reilly, Shan Bernagh, Phil Galloge, and Arthur O'Neal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Shure</i> never were any boys like 'em for rows, <i>agitations</i>, and sprees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not a <i>rap</i> did they leave in the country, and hence they were called <i>Rap</i>parees.<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Next comes <span class="smcap">Power</span>, the great Tory<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> of Munster, a gentleman born every inch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strong <span class="smcap">Jack Macpherson</span> of Leinster, a horse-shoe who broke at a pinch;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last was a fellow so <i>lively</i>, not death e'en his courage could damp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For as he was led to the gallows, he played his own "march to the camp."<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Paddy Fleming</span>, <span class="smcap">Dick Balf</span>, and <span class="smcap">Mulhoni</span>, I think are the next on my list,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All adepts in the beautiful science of giving a pocket a twist;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Jemmy Carrick</span> must follow his leaders, <i>ould</i> <span class="smcap">Purney</span> who put in a huff,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By dancing a hornpipe at Tyburn, and bothering the hangman for snuff.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There's <span class="smcap">Paul Liddy</span>, the curly-pate Tory, whose noddle was stuck on a spike,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <span class="smcap">Billy Delaney</span>, the "<i>Songster</i>,"<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> we never shall meet with his like;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For his neck by a witch was anointed, and warranted safe by her charm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No hemp that was ever yet twisted his wonderful throttle could harm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And lastly, there's <span class="smcap">Cahir na Cappul</span>, the handiest rogue of them all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who only need whisper a word, and your horse will trot out of his stall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your tit is not safe in your stable, though you or your groom should be near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And devil a bit in the paddock, if <span class="smcap">Cahir</span> gets <i>hould</i> of his ear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then success to the Tories of Ireland, the generous, the gallant, the gay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With them the best <i>Rumpads</i><a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> of England are not to be named the same day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And were further proof wanting to show what precedence we take with our <i>prigs</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Recollect that <i>our</i> robbers are Tories, while those of <i>your</i> country are Whigs.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"Bravissimo!" cried Jack, drumming upon the table.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Coates, "we've had enough about the Irish +highwaymen, in all conscience. But there's a rascal on our +side of the Channel, whom you have only incidentally mentioned, +and who makes more noise than them all put together."</p> + +<p>"Who's that?" asked Jack, with some curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Dick Turpin," replied the attorney: "he seems to me +quite as worthy of mention as any of the Hinds, the Du-Vals, +or the O'Hanlons, you have either of you enumerated."</p> + +<p>"I did not think of him," replied Palmer, smiling; "though, +if I had, he scarcely deserves to be ranked with those illustrious +heroes."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Gads bobs!" cried Titus; "they tell me Turpin keeps +the best nag in the United Kingdom, and can ride faster and +further in a day than any other man in a week."</p> + +<p>"So I've heard," said Palmer, with a glance of satisfaction. +"I should like to try a run with him. I warrant me, I'd not +be far behind."</p> + +<p>"I should like to get a peep at him," quoth Titus.</p> + +<p>"So should I," added Coates. "Vastly!"</p> + +<p>"You may both of you be gratified, gentlemen," said Palmer. +"Talking of Dick Turpin, they say, is like speaking of the +devil, he's at your elbow ere the word's well out of your mouth. +He may be within hearing at this moment, for anything we +know to the contrary."</p> + +<p>"Body o' me!" ejaculated Coates, "you don't say so? +Turpin in Yorkshire! I thought he confined his exploits to +the neighborhood of the metropolis, and made Epping Forest +his headquarters."</p> + +<p>"So he did," replied Jack, "but the cave is all up now. +The whole of the great North Road, from Tottenham Cross to +York gates, comes within Dick's present range; and Saint +Nicholas only knows in which part of it he is most likely to +be found. He shifts his quarters as often and as readily as a +Tartar; and he who looks for him may chance to catch a +Tartar—ha!—ha!"</p> + +<p>"It's a disgrace to the country that such a rascal should +remain unhanged," returned Coates, peevishly. "Government +ought to look to it. Is the whole kingdom to be kept in a +state of agitation by a single highwayman?—Sir Robert Walpole +should take the affair into his own hands."</p> + +<p>"Fudge!" exclaimed Jack, emptying his glass.</p> + +<p>"I have already addressed a letter to the editor of the +<i>Common Sense</i> on the subject," said Coates, "in which I have +spoken my mind pretty plainly: and I repeat, it is perfectly +disgraceful that such a rascal should be suffered to remain at +large."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You don't happen to have that letter by you, I suppose," +said Jack, "or I should beg the favor to hear it?—I am not +acquainted with the newspaper to which you allude;—I read +<i>Fog's Journal</i>."</p> + +<p>"So I thought," replied Coates, with a sneer; "that's the +reason you are so easily mystified. But luckily I have the paper +in my pocket; and you are quite welcome to my opinions. +Here it is," added he, drawing forth a newspaper. "I shall +waive my preliminary remarks, and come to the point at once."</p> + +<p>"By all means," said Jack.</p> + +<p>"'I thank God,'" began Coates, in an authoritative tone, +"'that I was born in a country that hath formerly emulated +the Romans in their public spirit; as is evident from their +conquests abroad, and their struggles for liberty at home.'"</p> + +<p>"What has all this got to do with Turpin?" interposed +Jack.</p> + +<p>"You will hear," replied the attorney—"no interruptions +if you please. 'But this noble principle,'" continued he, with +great emphasis, "'though not utterly lost, I cannot think at +present so active as it ought to be in a nation so jealous of her +liberty.'"</p> + +<p>"Good!" exclaimed Jack. "There is more than '<i>common +sense</i>' in that observation, Mr. Coates."</p> + +<p>"'My suspicion,'" proceeded Coates, "'is founded on a +late instance. I mean the flagrant, undisturbed success of the +notorious <span class="smcap">Turpin</span>, who hath robb'd in a manner scarce ever +known before for several years, and is grown so insolent and +impudent as to threaten particular persons, and become openly +dangerous to the lives as well as fortunes of the people of +England.'"</p> + +<p>"Better and better," shouted Jack, laughing immoderately. +"Pray go on, sir."</p> + +<p>"'That a fellow,'" continued Coates, "'who is known to be +a thief by the whole kingdom, shall for so long a time continue +to rob us, and not only rob us, but make a jest of us——'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ha—ha—ha—capital! Excuse me, sir," roared Jack, +laughing till the tears ran down his cheeks—"pray, pray, go on."</p> + +<p>"I see nothing to laugh at," replied Coates, somewhat offended; +"however, I will conclude my letter, since I have begun +it—'not only rob us, but make a jest of us, shall defy the +laws, and laugh at justice, argues a want of public spirit, which +should make every particular member of the community sensible +of the public calamity, and ambitious of the honor of +extirpating such a notorious highwayman from society, since +he owes his long successes to no other cause than his immoderate +impudence, and the sloth and pusillanimity of those who +ought to bring him to justice.' I will not deny," continued +Coates, "that, professing myself, as I do, to be a staunch new +Whig, I had not some covert political object in penning this +epistle.<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> Nevertheless, setting aside my principles——"</p> + +<p>"Right," observed Jack; "you Whigs, new or old, always +set aside your principles."</p> + +<p>"Setting aside any political feeling I may entertain," continued +Coates, disregarding the interruption, "I repeat, I am +ambitious of extirpating this modern Cacus—this Autolycus of +the eighteenth century."</p> + +<p>"And what course do you mean to pursue?" asked Jack, +"for I suppose you do not expect to catch this '<i>ought-to-lick-us</i>,' +as you call him, by a line in the newspapers."</p> + +<p>"I am in the habit of keeping my own counsel, sir," replied +Coates, pettishly; "and to be plain with you, I hope to finger +all the reward myself."</p> + +<p>"Oons, is there a reward offered for Turpin's apprehension?" +asked Titus.</p> + +<p>"No less than two hundred pounds," answered Coates, +"and that's no trifle, as you will both admit. Have you not +seen the king's proclamation, Mr. Palmer?"</p> + +<p>"Not I," replied Jack, with affected indifference.</p> + +<p>"Nor I," added Titus, with some appearance of curiosity; +"do you happen to have <i>that</i> by you too?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I always carry it about with me," replied Coates, "that I +may refer to it in case of emergency. My father, Christopher, +or Kit Coates, as he was familiarly called, was a celebrated +thief-taker. He apprehended Spicket, and Child, and half a +dozen others, and always kept their descriptions in his pocket. +I endeavor to tread in my worthy father's footsteps. I hope +to signalize myself by capturing a highwayman. By-the-by," +added he, surveying Jack more narrowly, "it occurs to me that +Turpin must be rather like you, Mr. Palmer?"</p> + +<p>"Like me," said Jack, regarding Coates askance; "like +me—how am I to understand you, sir, eh?"</p> + +<p>"No offence; none whatever, sir. Ah! stay, you won't object +to my comparing the description. That <i>can</i> do no harm. Nobody +would take you for a highwayman—nobody whatever—ha! +ha! Singular resemblance—he—he. These things <i>do</i> happen +sometimes: not very often, though. But here is Turpin's +description in the <i>Gazette</i>, <i>June 28th</i>, <span class="smcapl">A.D.</span> 1737:—'<i>It having +been represented to the King that Richard Turpin did, on Wednesday, +the 4th of May last, rob on his Majesty's highway Vavasour +Mowbray, Esq., Major of the 2d troop of Horse Grenadiers</i>'—that +Major Mowbray, by-the-by, is a nephew of the +late Sir Piers, and cousin of the present baronet—'<i>and commit +other notorious felonies and robberies near London, his +Majesty is pleased to promise his most gracious pardon to any +of his accomplices, and a reward of two hundred pounds to +any person or persons who shall discover him, so as he may be +apprehended and convicted</i>.'"</p> + +<p>"Odsbodikins!" exclaimed Titus, "a noble reward! I +should like to lay hands upon Turpin," added he, slapping +Palmer's shoulder: "I wish he were in your place at this +moment, Jack."</p> + +<p>"Thank you!" replied Palmer, shifting his chair.</p> + +<p>"'<i>Turpin</i>,'" continued Coates, "'<i>was born at Thacksted, +in Essex; is about thirty</i>'—you, sir, I believe, are about +thirty?" added he, addressing Palmer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thereabouts," said Jack, bluffly. "But what has my age +to do with that of Turpin?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing—nothing at all," answered Coates; "suffer me, +however, to proceed:—'<i>Is by trade a butcher</i>,'—you, sir, I +believe, never had any dealings in that line?"</p> + +<p>"I have some notion how to dispose of a troublesome calf," +returned Jack. "But Turpin, though described as a butcher, +is, I understand, a lineal descendant of a great French archbishop +of the same name."</p> + +<p>"Who wrote the chronicles of that royal robber Charlemagne; +I know him," replied Coates—"a terrible liar!—The +modern Turpin '<i>is about five feet nine inches high</i>'—exactly +your height, sir—exactly!"</p> + +<p>"I am five feet ten," answered Jack, standing bolt upright.</p> + +<p>"You have an inch, then, in your favor," returned the +unperturbed attorney, deliberately proceeding with his examination—"'<i>he +has a brown complexion, marked with the smallpox</i>.'"</p> + +<p>"My complexion is florid—my face without a seam," quoth +Jack.</p> + +<p>"Those whiskers would conceal anything," replied Coates, +with a grin. "Nobody wears whiskers nowadays, except a +highwayman."</p> + +<p>"Sir!" said Jack, sternly. "You are personal."</p> + +<p>"I don't mean to be so," replied Coates; "but you must +allow the description tallies with your own in a remarkable manner. +Hear me out, however—'<i>his cheek bones are broad—his +face is thinner towards the bottom—his visage short—pretty +upright—and broad about the shoulders</i>.' Now I appeal to +Mr. Tyrconnel if all this does not sound like a portrait of +yourself."</p> + +<p>"Don't appeal to me," said Titus, hastily, "upon such a +delicate point. I can't say that I approve of a gentleman +being likened to a highwayman. But if ever there was a highwayman +I'd wish to resemble, it's either Redmond O'Hanlon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +or Richard Turpin; and may the devil burn me if I know +which of the two is the greater rascal!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Palmer," said Coates, "I repeat, I mean no +offence. Likenesses are unaccountable. I am said to be +like my Lord North; whether I am or not, the Lord knows. +But if ever I meet with Turpin I shall bear you in mind—he—he! +Ah! if ever I <i>should</i> have the good luck to stumble +upon him, I've a plan for his capture which couldn't fail. +Only let me get a glimpse of him, that's all. You shall see +how I'll dispose of him."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, we <i>shall</i> see," observed Palmer. "And for +your own sake, I wish you may never be nearer to him than you +are at this moment. With his friends, they say Dick Turpin +can be as gentle as a lamb; with his foes, especially with a +limb of the law like yourself, he's been found but an ugly +customer. I once saw him at Newmarket, where he was collared +by two constable culls, one on each side. Shaking off +one, and dealing the other a blow in the face with his heavy-handled +whip, he stuck spurs into his mare, and though the +whole field gave chase, he distanced them all, easily."</p> + +<p>"And how came you not to try your pace with him, if +you were there, as you boasted a short time ago?" asked +Coates.</p> + +<p>"So I did, and stuck closer to him than any one else. We +were neck and neck. I was the only person who could have +delivered him to the hands of justice, if I'd felt inclined."</p> + +<p>"Zounds!" cried Coates; "If I had a similar opportunity, +it should be neck or nothing. Either he or I should reach +the scragging-post first. I'd take him, dead or alive."</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> take Turpin?" cried Jack, with a sneer.</p> + +<p>"I'd engage to do it," replied Coates. "I'll bet you a +hundred guineas I take him, if I ever have the same chance."</p> + +<p>"Done!" exclaimed Jack, rapping the table at the same +time, so that the glasses danced upon it.</p> + +<p>"That's right," cried Titus. "I'll go you halves."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's the matter—what's the matter?" exclaimed Small, +awakened from his doze.</p> + +<p>"Only a trifling bet about a highwayman," replied Titus.</p> + +<p>"A highwayman!" echoed Small. "Eh! what? there are +none in the house, I hope."</p> + +<p>"I hope not," answered Coates. "But this gentleman has +taken up the defence of the notorious Dick Turpin in so singular +a manner, that——"</p> + +<p>"<i>Quod factu fœdum est, idem est et Dictu Turpe</i>," returned +Small. "The less said about that rascal the better."</p> + +<p>"So I think," replied Jack. "The fact is as you say, sir—were +Dick here, he would, I am sure, take the <i>freedom to hide +'em</i>."</p> + +<p>Further discourse was cut short by the sudden opening of the +door, followed by the abrupt entrance of a tall, slender young +man, who hastily advanced towards the table, around which +the company were seated. His appearance excited the utmost +astonishment in the whole group: curiosity was exhibited in +every countenance—the magnum remained poised midway in +the hand of Palmer—Dr. Small scorched his thumb in the bowl +of his pipe; and Mr. Coates was almost choked, by swallowing +an inordinate whiff of vapor.</p> + +<p>"Young Sir Ranulph!" ejaculated he, as soon as the syncope +would permit him.</p> + +<p>"Sir Ranulph here?" echoed Palmer, rising.</p> + +<p>"Angels and ministers!" exclaimed Small.</p> + +<p>"Odsbodikins!" cried Titus, with a theatrical start; "this +is more than I expected."</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," said Ranulph, "do not let my unexpected +arrival here discompose you. Dr. Small, you will excuse the +manner of my greeting; and you, Mr. Coates. One of the +present party, I believe, was my father's medical attendant, +Dr. Tyrconnel."</p> + +<p>"I had that honor," replied the Irishman, bowing profoundly—"I +am Dr. Tyrconnel, Sir Ranulph, at your service."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> + +<p>"When, and at what hour, did my father breathe his last, +sir?" inquired Ranulph.</p> + +<p>"Poor Sir Piers," answered Titus, again bowing, "departed +this life on Thursday last."</p> + +<p>"The hour?—the precise minute?" asked Ranulph, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Troth, Sir Ranulph, as nearly as I can recollect, it might +be a few minutes before midnight."</p> + +<p>"The very hour!" exclaimed Ranulph, striding towards the +window. His steps were arrested as his eye fell upon the attire +of his father, which, as we have before noticed, hung at +that end of the room. A slight shudder passed over his frame. +There was a momentary pause, during which Ranulph continued +gazing intently at the apparel. "The very dress, too!" muttered +he; then turning to the assembly, who were watching +his movements with surprise; "Doctor," said he, addressing +Small, "I have something for your private ear. Gentlemen, +will you spare us the room for a few minutes?"</p> + +<p>"On my conscience," said Tyrconnel to Jack Palmer, as +they quitted the sanctum, "a mighty fine boy is this young +Sir Ranulph!—and a chip of the ould block!—he'll be as good +a fellow as his father."</p> + +<p>"No doubt," replied Palmer, shutting the door. "But what +the devil brought him back, just in the nick of it?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X1" id="CHAPTER_X1"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>RANULPH ROOKWOOD</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 25em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Fer.</i> Yes, Francisco,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He hath left his curse upon me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Fran.</i> How?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Fer.</i> His curse I dost comprehend what that word carries?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shot from a father's angry breath? Unless<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I tear poor Felisarda from my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He hath pronounced me heir to all his curses.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Shirley</span>: <i>The Brothers</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>"There is nothing, I trust, my dear young friend, and +quondam pupil," said Dr. Small, as the door was closed, +"that weighs upon your mind, beyond the sorrow naturally incident +to an affliction, severe as the present. Forgive my +apprehensions if I am wrong. You know the affectionate interest +I have ever felt for you—an interest which, I assure +you, is nowise diminished, and which will excuse my urging +you to unburden your mind to me; assuring yourself, that +whatever may be your disclosure, you will have my sincere +sympathy and commiseration. I may be better able to advise +with you, should counsel be necessary, than others, from my +knowledge of your character and temperament. I would not +anticipate evil, and am, perhaps, unnecessarily apprehensive. +But I own, I am startled at the incoherence of your expressions, +coupled with your sudden and almost mysterious appearance +at this distressing conjuncture. Answer me: has your return +been the result of mere accident? is it to be considered one of +those singular circumstances which almost look like fate, and +baffle our comprehension? or were you nearer home than we +expected, and received the news of your father's demise through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +some channel unknown to us? Satisfy my curiosity, I beg of +you, upon this point."</p> + +<p>"Your curiosity, my dear sir," replied Ranulph, gravely and +sadly, "will not be decreased, when I tell you, that my return +has neither been the work of chance,—for I came, fully anticipating +the dread event, which I find realized,—nor has it been +occasioned by any intelligence derived from yourself, or others. +It was only, indeed, upon my arrival here that I received full +confirmation of my apprehensions. I had another, a more +terrible summons to return."</p> + +<p>"What summons? you perplex me!" exclaimed Small, +gazing with some misgiving into the face of his young friend.</p> + +<p>"I am myself perplexed—sorely perplexed," returned +Ranulph. "I have much to relate; but I pray you bear with +me to the end. I have that on my mind which, like guilt, +must be revealed."</p> + +<p>"Speak, then, fearlessly to me," said Small, affectionately +pressing Ranulph's hand, "and assure yourself, beforehand, of +my sympathy."</p> + +<p>"It will be necessary," said Ranulph, "to preface my narrative +by some slight allusion to certain painful events—and +yet I know not why I should call them painful, excepting in +their consequences—which influenced my conduct in my final +interview between my father and myself—an interview which +occasioned my departure for the Continent—and which was of +a character so dreadful, that I would not even revert to it, were +it not a necessary preliminary to the circumstance I am about +to detail.</p> + +<p>"When I left Oxford, I passed a few weeks alone, in London. +A college friend, whom I accidentally met, introduced me, +during a promenade in St. James's Park, to some acquaintances +of his own, who were taking an airing in the Mall at the same +time—a family whose name was Mowbray, consisting of a +widow lady, her son, and daughter. This introduction was +made in compliance with my own request. I had been struck<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +by the singular beauty of the younger lady, whose countenance +had a peculiar and inexpressible charm to me, from its marked +resemblance to the portrait of the Lady Eleanor Rookwood, +whose charms and unhappy fate I have so often dwelt upon +and deplored. The picture is there," continued Ranulph, +pointing to it: "look at it, and you have the fair creature I +speak of before you; the color of the hair—the tenderness of +the eyes. No—the expression is not so sad, except when——but +no matter! I recognized her features at once.</p> + +<p>"It struck me, that upon the mention of my name, the party +betrayed some surprise, especially the elder lady. For my +own part, I was so attracted by the beauty of the daughter, +the effect of which upon me seemed rather the fulfilment of a +predestined event, originating in the strange fascination which +the family portrait had wrought in my heart, than the operation +of what is called 'love at first sight,' that I was insensible to +the agitation of the mother. In vain I endeavored to rally +myself; my efforts at conversation were fruitless; I could not +talk—all I could do was silently to yield to the soft witchery +of those tender eyes; my admiration increasing each instant +that I gazed upon them.</p> + +<p>"I accompanied them home. Attracted as by some irresistible +spell, I could not tear myself away; so that, although +I fancied I could perceive symptoms of displeasure in the +looks of both the mother and the son, yet, regardless of consequences, +I ventured, uninvited, to enter the house. In order +to shake off the restraint which I felt my society imposed, I +found it absolutely necessary to divest myself of bashfulness, +and to exert such conversational powers as I possessed. I +succeeded so well that the discourse soon became lively and +animated; and what chiefly delighted me was, that <i>she</i>, for +whose sake I had committed my present rudeness, became +radiant with smiles. I had been all eagerness to seek for some +explanation of the resemblance to which I have just alluded, +and the fitting moment had, I conceived, arrived. I called<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +attention to a peculiar expression in the features of Miss Mowbray, +and then instanced the likeness that subsisted between +her and my ancestress. 'It is the more singular,' I said, turning +to her mother, 'because there could have been no affinity, +that I am aware of, between them, and yet the likeness is +really surprising.'—'It is not so singular as you imagine,' +answered Mrs. Mowbray; 'there <i>is</i> a close affinity. That +Lady Rookwood was my mother. Eleanor Mowbray <i>does</i> +resemble her ill-fated ancestress.'</p> + +<p>"Words cannot paint my astonishment. I gazed at Mrs. +Mowbray, considering whether I had not misconstrued her +speech—whether I had not so shaped the sounds as to suit my +own quick and passionate conceptions. But no! I read in +her calm, collected countenance—in the downcast glance, and +sudden sadness of Eleanor, as well as in the changed and +haughty demeanor of the brother, that I had heard her rightly. +Eleanor Mowbray was my cousin—the descendant of that +hapless creature whose image I had almost worshipped.</p> + +<p>"Recovering from my surprise, I addressed Mrs. Mowbray, +endeavoring to excuse my ignorance of our relationship, on +the plea that I had not been given to understand that such +had been the name of the gentleman she had espoused. 'Nor +was it,' answered she, 'the name he bore at Rookwood; circumstances +forbade it then. From the hour I quitted that +house until this moment, excepting one interview with my—with +Sir Reginald Rookwood—I have seen none of my family—have +held no communication with them. My brothers have +been strangers to me; the very name of Rookwood has been +unheard, unknown; nor would you have been admitted here, +had not accident occasioned it.' I ventured now to interrupt +her, and to express a hope that she would suffer an acquaintance +to be kept up, which had so fortunately commenced, and +which might most probably bring about an entire reconciliation +between the families. I was so earnest in my expostulations, +my whole soul being in them, that she inclined a more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +friendly ear to me. Eleanor, too, smiled encouragement. +Love lent me eloquence; and at length, as a token of my +success, and her own relenting, Mrs. Mowbray held forth her +hand: I clasped it eagerly. It was the happiest moment of +my life.</p> + +<p>"I will not trouble you with any lengthened description of +Eleanor Mowbray. I hope, at some period or other, you may +still be enabled to see her, and judge for yourself; for though +adverse circumstances have hitherto conspired to separate us, +the time for a renewal of our acquaintance is approaching, I +trust, for I am not yet altogether without hope. But this +much I may be allowed to say, that her rare endowments of +person were only equalled by the graces of her mind.</p> + +<p>"Educated abroad, she had all the vivacity of our livelier +neighbors, combined with every solid qualification which we +claim as more essentially our own. Her light and frolic manner +was French, certainly; but her gentle, sincere heart was +as surely English. The foreign accent that dwelt upon her +tongue communicated an inexpressible charm, even to the +language which she spoke.</p> + +<p>"I will not dwell too long upon this theme. I feel ashamed +of my own prolixity. And yet I am sure you will pardon it. +Ah, those bright brief days! too quickly were they fled! I +could expatiate upon each minute—recall each word—revive +each look. It may not be. I must hasten on. Darker +themes await me.</p> + +<p>"My love made rapid progress—I became each hour more +enamored of my new-found cousin. My whole time was +passed near her; indeed, I could scarcely exist in absence +from her side. Short, however, was destined to be my indulgence +in this blissful state. One happy week was its extent. +I received a peremptory summons from my father to return +home.</p> + +<p>"Immediately upon commencing this acquaintance, I had +written to my father, explaining every particular attending it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +This I should have done of my own free will, but I was urged +to it by Mrs. Mowbray. Unaccustomed to disguise, I had +expatiated upon the beauty of Eleanor, and in such terms, I +fear, that I excited some uneasiness in his breast. His letter +was laconic. He made no allusion to the subject upon which +I had expatiated when writing to him. He commanded me +to return.</p> + +<p>"The bitter hour was at hand. I could not hesitate to comply. +Without my father's sanction, I was assured Mrs. Mowbray +would not permit any continuance of my acquaintance. +Of Eleanor's inclinations I fancied I had some assurance; but +without her mother's consent, to whose will she was devoted, +I felt, had I even been inclined to urge it, that my suit was +hopeless. The letter which I had received from my father +made me more than doubt whether I should not find him +utterly adverse to my wishes. Agonized, therefore, with a thousand +apprehensions, I presented myself on the morning of my +departure. It was then I made the declaration of my passion to +Eleanor; it was then that every hope was confirmed, every apprehension +realized. I received from her lips a confirmation +of my fondest wishes; yet were those hopes blighted in the bud, +when I heard, at the same time, that their consummation was +dependent on the will of two others, whose assenting voices, she +feared, could never be obtained. From Mrs. Mowbray I received +a more decided reply. All her haughtiness was aroused. +Her farewell words assured me, that it was indifferent to her +whether we met again as relatives or as strangers. Then was +it that the native tenderness of Eleanor displayed itself, in an +outbreak of feeling peculiar to a heart keenly sympathetic as +hers. She saw my suffering—the reserve natural to her sex +gave way—she flung herself into my arms—and so we parted.</p> + +<p>"With a heavy foreboding I returned to Rookwood, and, +oppressed with the gloomiest anticipations, endeavored to prepare +myself for the worst. I arrived. My reception was such +as I had calculated upon; and, to increase my distress, my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +parents had been at variance. I will not pain you and myself +with any recital of their disagreement. My mother had espoused +my cause, chiefly, I fear, with the view of thwarting my +poor father's inclinations. He was in a terrible mood, exasperated +by the fiery stimulants he had swallowed, which had not +indeed, drowned his reason, but roused and inflamed every +dormant emotion to violence. He was as one insane. It was +evening when I arrived. I would willingly have postponed the +interview till the morrow. It could not be. He insisted upon +seeing me.</p> + +<p>"My mother was present. You know the restraint she +usually had over my father, and how she maintained it. On this +occasion she had none. He questioned me as to every particular; +probed my secret soul; dragged forth every latent feeling, +and then thundered out his own determination that +Eleanor never should be bride of mine; nor would he receive, +under his roof, her mother, the discountenanced daughter of his +father. I endeavored to remonstrate with him. He was deaf +to my entreaties. My mother added sharp and stinging words +to my expostulations. 'I had her consent,' she said; 'what +more was needed? The lands were entailed. I should at no +distant period be their master, and might then please myself.' +This I mention in order to give you my father's strange answer.</p> + +<p>"'Have a care, madam,' replied he, 'and bridle your +tongue; they <i>are</i> entailed, 'tis true, but I need not ask <i>his</i> +consent to cut off that entail. Let him dare to disobey me in +this particular, and I will so divert the channel of my wealth, +that no drop shall reach him. I will—but why threaten?—let +him do it, and approve the consequences.'</p> + +<p>"On the morrow I renewed my importunities, with no better +success. We were alone.</p> + +<p>"'Ranulph,' said he, 'you waste time in seeking to change +my resolution. It is unalterable. I have many motives which +influence me; they are inexplicable, but imperative. Eleanor +Mowbray never can be yours. Forget her as speedily as may<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +be, and I pledge myself, upon whomsoever else your choice +may fix, I will offer no obstacle.'</p> + +<p>"'But why,' exclaimed I, with vehemence, 'do you object +to one whom you have never beheld? At least, consent to see +her.'</p> + +<p>"'Never!' he replied, 'The tie is sundered, and cannot be +reunited; my father bound me by an oath never to meet in +friendship with my sister; I will not break my vow, I will not +violate its conditions, even in the second degree. We never +can meet again. An idle prophecy which I have heard has +said "<i>that when a Rookwood shall marry a Rookwood the end +of the house draweth nigh</i>." That I regard not. It may have +no meaning, or it may have much. To me it imports nothing +further, than that, if you wed Eleanor, every acre I possess shall +depart from you. And assure yourself this is no idle threat. +I can, and will do it. My curse shall be your sole inheritance.'</p> + +<p>"I could not avoid making some reply, representing to him +how unjustifiable such a procedure was to me, in a case where +the happiness of my life was at stake; and how inconsistent it +was with the charitable precepts of our faith, to allow feelings +of resentment to influence his conduct. My remonstrances, as +in the preceding meeting, were ineffectual. The more I spoke, +the more intemperate he grew. I therefore desisted, but not +before he had ordered me to quit the house. I did not leave +the neighborhood, but saw him again on the same evening.</p> + +<p>"Our last interview took place in the garden. I then told +him that I had determined to go abroad for two years, at the +expiration of which period I proposed returning to England; +trusting that his resolution might then be changed, and that +he would listen to my request, for the fulfilment of which I +could never cease to hope. Time, I hoped, might befriend +me. He approved of my plan of travelling, requesting me +not to see Eleanor before I set out; adding, in a melancholy +tone—'We may never meet again, Ranulph, in this life; in +that case, farewell forever. Indulge no vain hopes. Eleanor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +never can be yours, but upon one condition, and to that you +would never consent!'—'Propose it!' I cried; 'there is no +condition I could not accede to.'—'Rash boy!' he replied, +'you know not what you say; that pledge you would never +fulfil, were I to propose it to you; but no—should I survive till +you return, you shall learn it then—and now, farewell.'—'Speak +now, I beseech you!' I exclaimed; 'anything, everything—what +you will!'—'Say no more,' replied he, walking towards +the house; 'when you return we will renew this subject; farewell—perhaps +forever!' His words were prophetic—that +parting <i>was</i> forever. I remained in the garden till nightfall. +I saw my mother, but <i>he</i> came not again. I quitted England +without beholding Eleanor."</p> + +<p>"Did you not acquaint her by letter with what had occurred, +and your consequent intentions?" asked Small.</p> + +<p>"I did," replied Ranulph; "but I received no reply. My +earliest inquiries will be directed to ascertain whether the +family are still in London. It will be a question for our consideration, +whether I am not justified in departing from my +father's expressed wishes, or whether I should violate his commands +in so doing."</p> + +<p>"We will discuss that point hereafter," replied Small; adding, +as he noticed the growing paleness of his companion, "you +are too much exhausted to proceed—you had better defer the +remainder of your story to a future period."</p> + +<p>"No," replied Ranulph, swallowing a glass of water; "I am +exhausted, yet I cannot rest—my blood is in a fever, which +nothing will allay. I shall feel more easy when I have made +the present communication. I am approaching the sequel of +my narrative. You are now in possession of the story of my +love—of the motive of my departure. You shall learn what +was the occasion of my return.</p> + +<p>"I had wandered from city to city during my term of exile—consumed +by hopeless passion—with little that could amuse +<i>me</i>, though surrounded by a thousand objects of interest to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +others, and only rendering life endurable by severest study or +most active exertion. My steps conducted me to Bordeaux;—there +I made a long halt, enchanted by the beauty of the neighboring +scenery. My fancy was smitten by the situation of a villa +on the banks of the Garonne, within a few leagues of the city. It +was an old château, with fine gardens bordering the blue waters +of the river, and commanding a multitude of enchanting prospects. +The house, which had in part gone to decay, was inhabited +by an aged couple, who had formerly been servants to +an English family, the members of which had thus provided +for them on their return to their own country. I inquired the +name. Conceive my astonishment to find that this château +had been the residence of the Mowbrays. This intelligence +decided me at once—I took up my abode in the house; and a +new and unexpected source of solace and delight was opened +to me, I traced the paths she had traced; occupied the +room she had occupied; tended the flowers she had tended; +and, on the golden summer evenings, would watch the rapid +waters, tinged with all the glorious hues of sunset, sweeping past +my feet, and think how <i>she</i> had watched them. Her presence +seemed to pervade the place. I was now comparatively happy, +and, anxious to remain unmolested, wrote home that I was +leaving Bordeaux for the Pyrenees, on my way to Spain."</p> + +<p>"That account arrived," observed Small.</p> + +<p>"One night," continued Ranulph—"'tis now the sixth since +the occurrence I am about to relate—I was seated in a bower +that overlooked the river. It had been a lovely evening—so +lovely, that I lingered there, wrapped in the heavenly contemplation +of its beauties. I watched each rosy tint reflected +upon the surface of the rapid stream—now fading into yellow—now +shining silvery white. I noticed the mystic mingling of +twilight with darkness—of night with day, till the bright current +on a sudden became a black mass of waters. I could scarcely +discern a leaf—all was darkness—when lo! another change! +The moon was up—a flood of light deluged all around—the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +stream was dancing again in reflected radiance, and I still +lingering at its brink.</p> + +<p>"I had been musing for some moments, with my head resting +upon my hand, when, happening to raise my eyes, I beheld a +figure immediately before me. I was astonished at the sight, +for I had perceived no one approach—had heard no footstep +advance towards me, and was satisfied that no one besides myself +could be in the garden. The presence of the figure inspired +me with an undefinable awe! and, I can scarce tell why, +but a thrilling presentiment convinced me that it was a supernatural +visitant. Without motion—without life—without substance, +it seemed; yet still the outward character of life was +there. I started to my feet. God! what did I behold? The +face was turned to me—my father's face! And what an aspect, +what a look! Time can never efface that terrible expression; +it is graven upon my memory—I cannot describe it. It was +not anger—it was not pain: it was as if an eternity of woe were +stamped upon its features. It was too dreadful to behold, I +would fain have averted my gaze—my eyes were fascinated—fixed—I +could not withdraw them from the ghastly countenance. +I shrank from it, yet stirred not—I could not move a limb. +Noiselessly gliding towards me, the apparition approached. I +could not retreat. It stood obstinately beside me. I became +as one half-dead. The phantom shook its head with the deepest +despair; and as the word 'Return!' sounded hollowly in +my ears, it gradually melted from my view. I cannot tell how +I recovered from the swoon into which I fell, but daybreak +saw me on my way to England. I am here. On that night—at +that same hour, my father died."</p> + +<p>"It was, after all, then, a supernatural summons that you +received?" said Small.</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly," replied Ranulph.</p> + +<p>"Humph!—the coincidence, I own, is sufficiently curious," +returned Small, musingly; "but it would not be difficult, I +think, to discover a satisfactory explanation of the delusion."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There was no delusion," replied Ranulph, coldly; "the +figure was as palpable as your own. Can I doubt, when I +behold this result? Could any deceit have been practised +upon me, at that distance?—the precise time, moreover, +agreeing. Did not the phantom bid me return?—I <i>have</i> +returned—he is dead. I have gazed upon a being of another +world. To doubt were impious, after that look."</p> + +<p>"Whatever my opinions may be, my dear young friend," +returned Small, gravely, "I will suspend them for the present. +You are still greatly excited. Let me advise you to seek some +repose."</p> + +<p>"I am easier," replied Ranulph; "but you are right, I will +endeavor to snatch a little rest. Something within tells me all +is not yet accomplished. What remains?—I shudder to think +of it. I will rejoin you at midnight. I shall myself attend +the solemnity. Adieu!"</p> + +<p>Ranulph quitted the room. Small sighingly shook his head, +and having lighted his pipe, was presently buried in a profundity +of smoke and metaphysical speculation.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI1" id="CHAPTER_XI1"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>LADY ROOKWOOD</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 29em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Fran. de Med.</i> Your unhappy husband<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Is dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Vit. Cor.</i><span style="margin-left: 6em;">Oh, he's a happy husband!</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">Now he owes nature nothing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Mon.</i><span style="margin-left: 4em;">And look upon this creature as his wife.</span><br /></span> +<span class="i6">She comes not like a widow—she comes armed<br /></span> +<span class="i6">With scorn and impudence. Is this a mourning habit?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>The White Devil.</i></p></div> + + +<p>The progress of our narrative demands our presence in +another apartment of the hall—a large, lonesome chamber,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +situate in the eastern wing of the house, already described as +the most ancient part of the building—the sombre appearance +of which was greatly increased by the dingy, discolored tapestry +that clothed its walls; the record of the patience and industry +of a certain Dame Dorothy Rookwood, who flourished +some centuries ago, and whose skilful needle had illustrated +the slaughter of the Innocents, with a severity of <i>gusto</i>, and +sanguinary minuteness of detail, truly surprising in a lady so +amiable as she was represented to have been. Grim-visaged +Herod glared from the ghostly woof, with his shadowy legions, +executing their murderous purposes, grouped like a troop of +Sabbath-dancing witches around him. Mysterious twilight, +admitted through the deep, dark, mullioned windows, revealed +the antique furniture of the room, which still boasted a sort of +mildewed splendor, more imposing, perhaps, than its original +gaudy magnificence; and showed the lofty hangings, and tall, +hearse-like canopy of a bedstead, once a couch of state, but +now destined for the repose of Lady Rookwood. The stiff +crimson hangings were embroidered in gold, with the arms and +cipher of Elizabeth, from whom the apartment, having once +been occupied by that sovereign, obtained the name of the +"Queen's Room."</p> + +<p>The sole tenant of this chamber was a female, in whose +countenance, if time and strong emotion had written strange +defeatures, they had not obliterated its striking beauty and +classical grandeur of expression. It was a face majestical and +severe. Pride was stamped in all its lines; and though each +passion was, by turns, developed, it was evident that all were +subordinate to the sin by which the angels fell. The contour +of her face was formed in the purest Grecian mould, and +might have been a model for Medea; so well did the gloomy +grandeur of the brow, the severe chiselling of the lip, the +rounded beauty of the throat, and the faultless symmetry of +her full form, accord with the beau ideal of antique perfection. +Shaded by smooth folds of raven hair, which still maintained<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +its jetty dye, her lofty forehead would have been displayed to +the greatest advantage, had it not been at this moment knit +and deformed by excess of passion, if that passion can be said +to deform which only calls forth strong and vehement expression. +Her figure, which wanted only height to give it dignity, +was arrayed in the garb of widowhood; and if she exhibited +none of the desolation of heart which such a bereavement +might have been expected to awaken, she was evidently a prey +to feelings scarcely less harrowing. At the particular time of +which we speak, Lady Rookwood, for she it was, was occupied +in the investigation of the contents of an escritoire. Examining +the papers which it contained with great deliberation, she +threw each aside, as soon as she had satisfied herself of its purport, +until she arrived at a little package, carefully tied up +with black ribbon, and sealed. This, Lady Rookwood hastily +broke open, and drew forth a small miniature. It was that of +a female, young and beautiful, rudely, yet faithfully, executed—faithfully, +we say, for there was an air of sweetness and +simplicity—and, in short, a look of reality and nature about +the picture (it is seldom, indeed, that we mistake a likeness, +even if we are unacquainted with the original) that attested +the artist's fidelity. The face was as radiant with smiles as a +bright day with sunbeams. The portrait was set in gold, and +behind it was looped a lock of the darkest and finest hair. +Underneath the miniature was written, in Sir Piers's hand, the +words "<i>Lady Rookwood</i>." A slip of folded paper was also +attached to it.</p> + +<p>Lady Rookwood scornfully scrutinized the features for a few +moments, and then unfolded the paper, at the sight of which +she started, and turned pale. "Thank God!" she cried, +"this is in my possession—while I hold this, we are safe. +Were it not better to destroy this evidence at once? No, no, +not <i>now</i>—it shall not part from me. I will abide Ranulph's return. +This document will give me a power over him such as I +could never otherwise obtain." Placing the marriage certificate,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +for such it was, within her breast, and laying the miniature upon +the table, she next proceeded, deliberately, to arrange the +disordered contents of the box.</p> + +<p>All outward traces of emotion had, ere this, become so subdued +in Lady Rookwood, that although she had, only a few +moments previously, exhibited the extremity of passionate indignation, +she now, apparently without effort, resumed entire +composure, and might have been supposed to be engaged in +a matter of little interest to herself. It was a dread calm, +which they who knew her would have trembled to behold. +"From these letters I gather," exclaimed she, "that their +wretched offspring knows not of his fortune. So far, well. +There is no channel whence he can derive information, and +my first care shall be to prevent his obtaining any clue to the +secret of his birth. I am directed to provide for him—ha! +ha! I will provide—a grave! There will I bury him and his +secret. My son's security and my own wrong demand it. I +must choose surer hands—the work must not be half-done, as +heretofore. And now, I bethink me, he is in the neighborhood, +connected with a gang of poachers—'tis as I could wish +it."</p> + +<p>At this moment a knock at the chamber-door broke upon +her meditations. "Agnes, is it you?" demanded Lady Rookwood.</p> + +<p>Thus summoned, the old attendant entered the room.</p> + +<p>"Why are my orders disobeyed?" asked the lady, in a +severe tone of voice. "Did I not say, when you delivered me +this package from Mr. Coates, which he himself wished to +present, that I would not be disturbed?"</p> + +<p>"You did, my lady, but——"</p> + +<p>"Speak out," said Lady Rookwood, somewhat more mildly, +perceiving, from Agnes's manner, that she had something of importance +to communicate. "What is it brings you hither?"</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," returned Agnes, "to disturb your ladyship, +but—but——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But what?" interrupted Lady Rookwood, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"I could not help it, my lady—he would have me come; he +said he was resolved to see your ladyship, whether you would +or not."</p> + +<p>"Would see me, ha! is it so? I guess his errand, and its +object—he has some suspicion. No, that cannot be; he would +not dare to tamper with these seals. Agnes, I will <i>not</i> see +him."</p> + +<p>"But he swears, my lady, that he will not leave the house +without seeing you—he would have forced his way into your +presence, if I had not consented to announce him."</p> + +<p>"Insolent!" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, with a glance of +indignation; "force his way! I promise you he shall not +display an equal anxiety to repeat the visit. Tell Mr. Coates +I will see him."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Coates! Mercy on us, my lady, it's not he. He'd +never have intruded upon you unasked. No such thing. He +knows his place too well. No, no; it's not Mr. Coates——"</p> + +<p>"If not he, who is it?"</p> + +<p>"Luke Bradley; your ladyship knows whom I mean."</p> + +<p>"He here—now?——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lady; and looking so fierce and strange, I was +quite frightened to see him. He looked so like his—his——"</p> + +<p>"His father, you would say. Speak out."</p> + +<p>"No, my lady, his grandfather—old Sir Reginald. He's the +very image of him. But had not your ladyship better ring +the alarm-bell? and when he comes in, I'll run and fetch the +servants—he's dangerous, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"I have no fears of him. He <i>will</i> see me, you say——"</p> + +<p>"Ay, <i>will</i>!" exclaimed Luke, as he threw open the door, and +shut it forcibly after him, striding towards Lady Rookwood, +"nor abide longer delay."</p> + +<p>It was an instant or two ere Lady Rookwood, thus taken by +surprise, could command speech. She fixed her eyes with a +look of keen and angry inquiry upon the bold intruder, who,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +nothing daunted, confronted her glances with a gaze as stern +and steadfast as her own.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, and what seek you?" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, +after a brief pause, and, in spite of herself, her voice +sounded tremulously. "What would you have, that you venture +to appear before me at this season and in this fashion?"</p> + +<p>"I might have chosen a fitter opportunity," returned Luke, +"were it needed. My business will not brook delay—you +must be pleased to overlook this intrusion on your privacy, at +a season of sorrow like the present. As to the fashion of my +visit, you must be content to excuse it. I cannot help myself. +I may amend hereafter. Who I am, you are able, I doubt not, +to divine. What I seek, you shall hear, when this old woman +has left the room, unless you would have a witness to a declaration +that concerns you as nearly as myself."</p> + +<p>An indefinite feeling of apprehension had, from the first +instant of Luke's entrance crossed Lady Rookwood's mind. +She, however, answered, with some calmness:</p> + +<p>"What you can have to say is of small moment to me—nor +does it signify who may hear it. It shall not, however, be said +that Lady Rookwood feared to be alone, even though she +endangered her life."</p> + +<p>"I am no assassin," replied Luke, "nor have sought the +destruction of my deadliest foe—though 'twere but retributive +justice to have done so."</p> + +<p>Lady Rookwood started.</p> + +<p>"Nay, you need not fear me," replied Luke; "my revenge +will be otherwise accomplished."</p> + +<p>"Go," said Lady Rookwood to Agnes; "yet—stay without, +in the antechamber."</p> + +<p>"My lady," said Agnes, scarcely able to articulate, "shall +I——"</p> + +<p>"Hear me, Lady Rookwood," interrupted Luke. "I repeat, +I intend you no injury. My object here is solely to obtain a +private conference. You can have no reason for denying me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +this request. I will not abuse your patience. Mine is no idle +mission. Say you refuse me, and I will at once depart. I +will find other means of communicating with you—less direct, +and therefore less desirable. Make your election. But we +<i>must</i> be alone—undisturbed. Summon your household—let +them lay hands upon me, and I will proclaim aloud what you +would gladly hide, even from yourself."</p> + +<p>"Leave us, Agnes," said Lady Rookwood. "I have no fear +of this man. I can deal with him myself, should I see occasion."</p> + +<p>"Agnes," said Luke, in a stern, deep whisper, arresting the +ancient handmaiden as she passed him, "stir not from the +door till I come forth. Have you forgotten your former mistress!—my +mother? Have you forgotten Barbara Lovel, and +<i>that night</i>?"</p> + +<p>"In Heaven's name, hush!" replied Agnes, with a shudder.</p> + +<p>"Let that be fresh in your memory. Move not a footstep, +whatever you may hear," added he, in the same tone as +before.</p> + +<p>"I will not—I will not." And Agnes departed.</p> + +<p>Luke felt some wavering in his resolution when he found +himself alone with the lady, whose calm, collected, yet haughty +demeanor, as she resumed her seat, prepared for his communication, +could not fail to inspire him with a certain degree of +awe. Not unconscious of her advantage, nor slow to profit by +it, Lady Rookwood remained perfectly silent, with her eyes +steadily fixed upon his face, while his embarrassment momentarily +increased. Summoning, at length, courage sufficient to +address her, and ashamed of his want of nerve, he thus broke +forth:</p> + +<p>"When I entered this room, you asked my name and object. +As to the first, I answer to the same designation as your +ladyship. I have long borne my mother's name. I now claim +my father's. My object is, the restitution of my rights."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Soh!—it is as I suspected," thought Lady Rookwood, +involuntarily casting her large eyes down. "Do I hear you +rightly?" exclaimed she, aloud; "your name is——"</p> + +<p>"Sir Luke Rookwood. As my father's elder born; by right +of <i>his</i> right to that title."</p> + +<p>If a glance could have slain him, Luke had fallen lifeless at +the lady's feet. With a smile of ineffable disdain, she replied, +"I know not why I hesitate to resent this indignity, even for an +instant. But I would see how far your audacity will carry you. +The name you bear is Bradley?"</p> + +<p>"In ignorance I have done so," replied Luke. "I am the +son of her whose maiden name was Bradley. She was——"</p> + +<p>"'Tis false—I will not hear it—she was <i>not</i>," cried Lady +Rookwood, her vehemence getting the master of her prudence.</p> + +<p>"Your ladyship anticipates my meaning," returned Luke. +"Susan Bradley was the first wife of Sir Piers Rookwood."</p> + +<p>"His minion—his mistress if you will; nought else. Is it +new to you, that a village wench, who lends herself to shame, +should be beguiled by such shallow pretences? That she was +so duped, I doubt not. But it is too late now to complain, and +I would counsel you not to repeat your idle boast. It will serve +no other purpose, trust me, than to blazon forth your own—your +mother's dishonor."</p> + +<p>"Lady Rookwood," sternly answered Luke, "my mother's +fame is as free from dishonor as your own. I repeat, she was +the first wife of Sir Piers; and that I, her child, am first in the +inheritance; nay, sole heir to the estates and title of Rookwood, +to the exclusion of your son. Ponder upon that intelligence. +Men say they fear you, as a thing of ill. <i>I</i> fear you not. +There <i>have</i> been days when the Rookwoods held their dames +in subjection. Discern you nought of that in me?"</p> + +<p>Once or twice during this speech Lady Rookwood's glances +had wandered towards the bell-cord, as if about to summon aid; +but the intention was abandoned almost as soon as formed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +probably from apprehension of the consequences of any such +attempt. She was not without alarm as to the result of the +interview, and was considering how she could bring it to a +termination without endangering herself, and, if possible, secure +the person of Luke, when the latter, turning sharply round +upon her, and drawing a pistol, exclaimed,—</p> + +<p>"Follow me!"</p> + +<p>"Whither?" asked she, in alarm.</p> + +<p>"To the chamber of death!"</p> + +<p>"Why there? what would you do? Villain! I will not trust +my life with you. I will <i>not</i> follow you."</p> + +<p>"Hesitate not, as you value your life. Do aught to alarm +the house, and I fire. Your safety depends upon yourself. I +would see my father's body ere it be laid in the grave. I will +not leave you here."</p> + +<p>"Go," said Lady Rookwood; "if that be all, I pledge +myself you shall not be interrupted."</p> + +<p>"I will not take your pledge; your presence shall be my +surety. By my mother's unavenged memory, if you play me +false, though all your satellites stand around you, you die upon +the spot! Obey me, and you are safe. Our way leads to +the room by the private staircase—we shall pass unobserved—you +see I know the road. The room, by your own command, +is vacant—save of the dead. We shall, therefore, be alone. +This done, I depart. You will then be free to act. Disobey +me, and your blood be upon your own head."</p> + +<p>"Lead on!" said Lady Rookwood, pressing towards the +antechamber.</p> + +<p>"The door I mean is there," pointing to another part of +the room—"that panel,—"</p> + +<p>"Ha! how know you that?"</p> + +<p>"No matter; follow."</p> + +<p>Luke touched a spring, and the panel flying open, disclosed +a dim recess, into which he entered; and, seizing Lady Rookwood's +hand, dragged her after him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII1" id="CHAPTER_XII1"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>THE CHAMBER OF DEATH</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is the body—I have orders given<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That here it should be laid.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>De Montfort.</i></p></div> + + +<p>The recess upon which the panel opened had been a small +oratory, and, though entirely disused, still retained its cushions +and its crucifix. There were two other entrances to this place +of prayer, the one communicating with a further bedchamber, +the other leading to the gallery. Through the latter, after +closing the aperture, without relinquishing his grasp, Luke +passed.</p> + +<p>It was growing rapidly dark, and at the brightest seasons +this gloomy corridor was but imperfectly lighted from narrow, +painted, and wire-protected windows that looked into the old +quadrangular courtyard below; and as they issued from the +oratory a dazzling flash of lightning—a storm having suddenly +arisen—momentarily illumined the whole length of the passage, +disclosing the retreating figure of a man, wrapped in +a large sable cloak, at the other extremity of the gallery. +Lady Rookwood uttered an outcry for assistance; but the +man, whoever he might be, disappeared in the instantaneously +succeeding gloom, leaving her in doubt whether or not her +situation had been perceived. Luke had seen this dark figure +at the same instant; and, not without apprehensions lest his +plans should be defeated, he griped Lady Rookwood's arm +still more strictly, and placing the muzzle of the pistol to her +breast, hurried her rapidly forwards.</p> + +<p>All was now in total obscurity; the countenance of neither +could be perceived as they trod the dark passage; but Luke's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +unrelaxed grasp indicated no change in his purposes, nor did +the slow, dignified march of the lady betray any apprehension +on her part. Descending a spiral staircase, which led from +the gallery to a lower story, their way now lay beneath the +entrance-hall, a means of communication little used. Their +tread sounded hollowly on the flagged floor; no other sound +was heard. Mounting a staircase, similar to the one they had +just descended, they arrived at another passage. A few paces +brought them to the door. Luke turned the handle, and they +stood within the chamber of the dead.</p> + +<p>The room which contained the remains of poor Sir Piers +was arrayed in all that mockery of state which, vainly attempting +to deride death, is itself a bitter derision of the living. +It was the one devoted to the principal meals of the day; a +strange choice, but convenience had dictated its adoption by +those with whom this part of the ceremonial had originated, +and long custom had rendered its usage, for this purpose, +almost prescriptive. This room, which was of some size, had +originally formed part of the great hall, from which it was +divided by a thick screen of black, lustrously varnished oak, +enriched with fanciful figures carved in bold relief. The walls +were panelled with the same embrowned material, and sustained +sundry portraits of the members of the family, in every +possible costume, from the steely gear of Sir Ranulph, down +to the flowing attire of Sir Reginald. Most of the race were +ranged around the room; and, seen in the yellow light shed +upon their features by the flambeaux, they looked like an array +of stern and silent witnesses, gazing upon their departed descendant. +The sides of the chamber were hung with black +cloth, and upon a bier in the middle of the room rested the +body. Broad escutcheons, decked out in glowing colors +pompously set forth the heraldic honors of the departed. +Tall lights burned at the head and feet, and fragrant perfumes +diffused their odors from silver censers.</p> + +<p>The entrance of Luke and his unwilling companion had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +abrupt. The transition from darkness to the glare of light +was almost blinding, and they had advanced far into the room +ere Lady Rookwood perceived a man, whom she took to be +one of the mutes, leaning over the bier. The coffin-lid was +entirely removed, and the person, whose back was towards +them appeared to be wrapped in mournful contemplation of +the sad spectacle before him. Suddenly bursting from Luke's +hold, Lady Rookwood rushed forward with a scream, and +touched the man's shoulder. He started at the summons, and +disclosed the features of her son!</p> + +<p>Rapidly as her own act, Luke followed. He levelled a +pistol at her head, but his hand dropped to his side as he +encountered the glance of Ranulph. All three seemed paralyzed +by surprise. Ranulph, in astonishment, extended his +arm to his mother, who, placing one arm over his shoulder, +pointed with the other to Luke; the latter stared sternly and +inquiringly at both—yet none spoke.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII1" id="CHAPTER_XIII1"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>THE BROTHERS</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 24em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i11">We're sorry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His violent act has e'en drawn blood of honor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stained our honors;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrown ink upon the forehead of our fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which envious spirits will dip their pens into<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After our death, and blot us in our tombs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For that which would seem treason in our lives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is laughter when we're dead. Who dares now whisper,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That dares not then speak out; and even proclaim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With loud words, and broad pens, our closest shame?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>The Revenger's Tragedy.</i></p></div> + + +<p>With that quickness of perception which at once supplies +information on such an emergency, Luke instantly conjectured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +who was before him. Startled as he was, he yet retained his +composure, abiding the result with his arms folded upon his +breast.</p> + +<p>"Seize him!" cried Lady Rookwood, as soon as she could +command her speech.</p> + +<p>"He rushes on his death if he stirs," exclaimed Luke, pointing +his pistol.</p> + +<p>"Bethink you where you are, villain!" cried Ranulph; +"you are entrapped in your own toils. Submit yourself to +our mercy—resistance is vain, and will not secure your safety, +while it will aggravate your offence. Surrender yourself——"</p> + +<p>"Never!" answered Luke. "Know you whom you ask to +yield?"</p> + +<p>"How should I?" answered Ranulph.</p> + +<p>"By that instinct which tells me who <i>you</i> are. Ask Lady +Rookwood—she can inform you, if she will."</p> + +<p>"Parley not with him—seize him!" cried Lady Rookwood. +"He is a robber, a murderer, who has assailed my life."</p> + +<p>"Beware!" said Luke to Ranulph, who was preparing to +obey his mother's commands; "I am no robber—no murderer. +Do not you make me a fratricide."</p> + +<p>"Fratricide!" echoed Ranulph.</p> + +<p>"Heed him not," ejaculated Lady Rookwood. "It is false—he +dares not harm thee, for his soul. I will call assistance."</p> + +<p>"Hold, mother!" exclaimed Ranulph, detaining Lady +Rookwood; "this man may be what he represents himself. +Before we proceed to extremities, I would question him. I +would not have mentioned it in your hearing could it have +been avoided, but my father had another son."</p> + +<p>Lady Rookwood frowned. She would have checked him, +but Luke rejoined—</p> + +<p>"You have spoken the truth; he had a son—I am he. +I——"</p> + +<p>"Be silent, I command you!" said Lady Rookwood.</p> + +<p>"Death!" cried Luke, in a loud voice. "Why should I be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +silent at your bidding—at <i>yours</i>—who regard no laws, human +or divine; who pursue your own fell purposes, without fear +of God or man? Waste not your frowns on me—I heed them +not. Do you think I am like a tame hound, to be cowed to +silence? I <i>will</i> speak. Ranulph Rookwood, the name you +bear is mine, and by a right as good as is your own. From +his loins, who lies a corpse before us, I sprang. No brand of +shame is on my birth. I am your father's son—his first-born—your +<i>elder</i> brother. Hear me!" cried he, rushing to the bier. +"By this body, I swear that I have avouched the truth—and +though to me the dead Sir Piers Rookwood hath never +been what a father should be to a son—though I have never +known his smile, felt his caresses, or received his blessing, yet +now be all forgiven, all forgotten." And he cast himself with +frantic violence upon the coffin.</p> + +<p>It is difficult to describe the feelings with which Ranulph +heard Luke's avowal. Amazement and dread predominated. +Unable to stir, he stood gazing on in silence. Not so Lady +Rookwood. The moment for action was arrived. Addressing +her son in a low tone, she said, "Your prey is within your +power. Secure him."</p> + +<p>"Wherefore?" rejoined Ranulph; "if he be my brother, +shall I raise my hand against him?"</p> + +<p>"Wherefore not?" returned Lady Rookwood.</p> + +<p>"'Twere an accursed deed," replied Ranulph. "The +mystery is resolved. 'Twas for this that I was summoned +home."</p> + +<p>"Ha! what say you? summoned! by whom?"</p> + +<p>"My father!"</p> + +<p>"Your father?" echoed Lady Rookwood, in great surprise.</p> + +<p>"Ay, my dead father! He has appeared to me since his +decease."</p> + +<p>"Ranulph, you rave—you are distracted with grief—with +astonishment."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, mother; but I will not struggle against my destiny."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! your destiny is Rookwood, its manors, its lands, its +rent-roll, and its title; nor shall you yield it to a base-born +churl like this. Let him prove his rights. Let the law adjudge +them to him, and we will yield—but not till then. I tell +thee he has <i>not</i> the right, nor can he maintain it. He is a +deluded dreamer, who, having heard some idle tale of his +birth, believes it, because it chimes with his wishes. I treated +him with the scorn he deserved. I would have driven +him from my presence, but he was armed, as you see, +and forced me hither, perhaps to murder me; a deed he +might have accomplished had it not been for your intervention. +His life is already forfeit, for an attempt of +the same sort last night. Why else came he hither? for +what else did he drag me to this spot? Let him answer +that!"</p> + +<p>"I <i>will</i> answer it," replied Luke, raising himself from the +bier.</p> + +<p>His face was ghastly as the corpse over which he leaned. +"I had a deed to do, which I wished you to witness. It was +a wild conception. But the means by which I have acquired +the information of my rights were wild. Ranulph, we are both +the slaves of fate. You have received your summons hither—I +have had mine. Your father's ghost called you; my mother's +spectral hand beckoned me. Both are arrived. One thing +more remains, and my mission is completed." Saying which, +he drew forth the skeleton hand; and having first taken the +wedding-ring from the finger, he placed the withered limb +upon the left breast of his father's body. "Rest there," he +cried, "for ever."</p> + +<p>"Will you suffer that?" said Lady Rookwood, tauntingly, +to her son.</p> + +<p>"No," replied Ranulph; "such profanation of the dead shall +not be endured, were he ten times my brother. Stand aside," +added he, advancing towards the bier, and motioning Luke<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +away. "Withdraw your hand from my father's body, and +remove what you have placed upon it."</p> + +<p>"I will neither remove it nor suffer it to be removed," returned +Luke. "'Twas for that purpose I came hither. 'Twas +to that hand he was united in life, in death he shall not be +divided from it."</p> + +<p>"Such irreverence shall not be!" exclaimed Ranulph, seizing +Luke with one hand, and snatching at the cereclothes with +the other. "Remove it, or by Heaven——"</p> + +<p>"Leave go your hold," said Luke, in a voice of thunder; +"you strive in vain."</p> + +<p>Ranulph ineffectually attempted to push him backwards; +and, shaking away the grasp that was fixed upon his collar, +seized his brother's wrist, so as to prevent the accomplishment +of his purpose. In this unnatural and indecorous strife the +corpse of their father was reft of its covering and the hand +discovered lying upon the pallid breast.</p> + +<p>And as if the wanton impiety of their conduct called forth an +immediate rebuke, even from the dead, a frown seemed to pass +over Sir Piers's features, as their angry glances fell in that direction. +This startling effect was occasioned by the approach +of Lady Rookwood, whose shadow, falling over the brow and +visage of the deceased, produced the appearance we have +described. Simultaneously quitting each other, with a deep +sense of shame, mingled with remorse, both remained, +their eyes fixed upon the dead, whose repose they had +violated.</p> + +<p>Folding the graveclothes decently over the body, Luke +prepared to depart.</p> + +<p>"Hold!" cried Lady Rookwood; "you go not hence."</p> + +<p>"My brother Ranulph will not oppose my departure," returned +Luke; "who else shall prevent it?"</p> + +<p>"That will I!" cried a sharp voice behind him; and, ere +he could turn to ascertain from whom the exclamation proceeded, +Luke felt himself grappled by two nervous assailants,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +who, snatching the pistol from his hold, fast pinioned his +arms.</p> + +<p>This was scarcely the work of a moment, and he was a prisoner +before he could offer any resistance. A strong smile of +exultation evinced Lady Rookwood's satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Bravo, my lads, bravo!" cried Coates, stepping forward, +for he it was under whose skilful superintendence the seizure +had been effected: "famously managed; my father the +thief-taker's runners couldn't have done it better—hand me +that pistol—loaded, I see—slugs, no doubt—oh, he's a precious +rascal—search him—turn his pockets inside out, while I +speak to her ladyship." Saying which, the brisk attorney, +enchanted with the feat he had performed, approached Lady +Rookwood with a profound bow, and an amazing smirk of self-satisfaction. +"Just in time to prevent mischief," said he; +"hope your ladyship does not suffer any inconvenience from +the alarm—beg pardon, annoyance I meant to say—which +this horrible outrage must have occasioned; excessively disagreeable +this sort of thing to a lady at any time, but at a +period like this more than usually provoking. However, we +have the villain safe enough. Very lucky I happened to be +in the way. Perhaps your ladyship would like to know how I +discovered——"</p> + +<p>"Not now," replied Lady Rookwood, checking the volubility +of the man of law. "I thank you, Mr. Coates, for the +service you have rendered me; you will now add materially to +the obligation by removing the prisoner with all convenient +despatch."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if your ladyship wishes it. Shall I detain him a +close prisoner in the hall for the night, or remove him at once +to the lock-up house in the village?"</p> + +<p>"Where you please, so you do it quickly," replied Lady +Rookwood, noticing, with great uneasiness, the agitated manner +of her son, and apprehensive lest, in the presence of so many +witnesses, he might say or do something prejudicial to their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +interests. Nor were her fears groundless. As Coates was about +to return to the prisoner, he was arrested by the voice of +Ranulph, commanding him to stay.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Coates," said he, "however appearances may be against +this man, he is no robber—you must, therefore, release him."</p> + +<p>"Eh day, what's that? release him, Sir Ranulph?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; I tell you he came here neither with the intent +to rob nor to offer violence."</p> + +<p>"That is false, Ranulph," replied Lady Rookwood. "I was +dragged hither by him at the peril of my life. He is Mr. +Coates's prisoner on another charge."</p> + +<p>"Unquestionably, your ladyship is perfectly right; I have a +warrant against him for assaulting Hugh Badger, the keeper, +and for other misdemeanors."</p> + +<p>"I will myself be responsible for his appearance to that +charge," replied Ranulph. "Now, sir, at once release him."</p> + +<p>"At your peril!" exclaimed Lady Rookwood.</p> + +<p>"Well, really," muttered the astonished attorney, "this is +the most perplexing proceeding I ever witnessed."</p> + +<p>"Ranulph," said Lady Rookwood, sternly, to her son, +"beware how you thwart me!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir Ranulph, let me venture to advise you, as a friend, +not to thwart her ladyship," whispered the attorney; "indeed, +she is in the right." But seeing his advice unheeded, Coates +withdrew to a little distance.</p> + +<p>"I will not see injustice done to my father's son," replied +Ranulph, in a low tone. "Why would you detain him?"</p> + +<p>"Why?" returned she, "our safety demands it—our +honor."</p> + +<p>"Our honor demands his instant liberation; each moment +he remains in those bonds sullies its purity. I will free him +myself from his fetters."</p> + +<p>"And brave my curse, foolish boy? You incurred your +miserable father's anathema for a lighter cause than this. +Our honor cries aloud for his destruction. Have I not been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +injured in the nicest point a woman can be injured? Shall I +lend my name to mockery and scorn, by base acknowledgment +of such deceit, or will you? Where would be my honor, then, +stripped of my fair estates—my son—myself—beggars—dependent +on the bounty of an upstart? Does honor ask you to +bear this? It is a phantom sense of honor, unsubstantial as +your father's shade, of which you just now spoke, that would +prompt you to do otherwise."</p> + +<p>"Do not evoke his awful spirit, mother," cried Ranulph, +with a shudder; "do not arouse his wrath."</p> + +<p>"Do not arouse <i>my</i> wrath," returned Lady Rookwood. "I +am the more to be feared. Think of Eleanor Mowbray; the +bar between your nuptials is removed. Would you raise up a +greater impediment?"</p> + +<p>"Enough, mother; more than enough. You have decided, +though not convinced me. Detain him within the house, if +you will, until the morrow; in the meantime, I will consider +over my line of conduct."</p> + +<p>"Is this, then, your resolve?"</p> + +<p>"It is. Mr. Coates," said Ranulph, calling the attorney, +who had been an inquisitive spectator, though, luckily, not an +auditor of this interview, "unbind the prisoner, and bring him +hither."</p> + +<p>"Is it your ladyship's pleasure?" asked Mr. Coates, who +regretted exceedingly that he could not please both parties.</p> + +<p>Lady Rookwood signified her assent by a slight gesture in +the affirmative.</p> + +<p>"Your bidding shall be done, Sir Ranulph," said Coates, +bowing and departing.</p> + +<p>"<i>Sir</i> Ranulph!" echoed Lady Rookwood, with strong emphasis; +"marked you that?"</p> + +<p>"Body o' me," muttered the attorney, "this is the most +extraordinary family, to be sure. Make way, gentlemen, if +you please," added he, pushing through the crowd, towards +the prisoner.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + +<p>Having described what took place between Lady Rookwood +and her son in one part of the room, we must now briefly narrate +some incidental occurrences in the other. The alarm of +a robber having been taken spread with great celerity through +the house, and almost all its inmates rushed into the room, +including Dr. Small, Titus Tyrconnel, and Jack Palmer.</p> + +<p>"Odsbodikins! are you there, honey?" said Titus, who discovered +his ally; "the bird's caught, you see."</p> + +<p>"Caught be d—d," replied Jack, bluffly; "so I see; all his +own fault; infernal folly to come here, at such a time as this. +However, it can't be helped now; he must make the best of +it. And as to that sneaking, gimlet-eyed, parchment-skinned +quill-driver, if I don't serve him out for his officiousness one +of these days, my name's not Jack Palmer."</p> + +<p>"Och! cushlamacree! did I ever? why, what's the boy to +you, Jack? Fair play's a jewel, and surely Mr. Coates only did +his duty. I'm sorry he's captured, for his relationship to Sir +Piers, and because I think he'll be tucked up for his pains; and, +moreover, I could forgive the poaching; but as to the breaking +into a house on such an occasion as this, och! It's a +plaguy bad look. I'm afraid he's worse than I thought him."</p> + +<p>A group of the tenantry, many of whom were in a state of +intoxication, had, in the meantime, formed themselves round +the prisoner. Whatever might be the nature of his thoughts, +no apprehension was visible in Luke's countenance. He stood +erect amidst the assemblage, his tall form towering above them +all, and his eyes fixed upon the movements of Lady Rookwood +and her son. He had perceived the anguish of the latter, and +the vehemence of the former, attributing both to their real +causes. The taunts and jeers, threats and insolent inquiries, +of the hinds who thronged around him, passed unheeded; yet +one voice in his ear, sharp as the sting of a serpent, made him +start. It was that of the sexton.</p> + +<p>"You have done well," said Peter, "have you not? Your +fetters are, I hope, to your liking. Well! a wilful man must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +have his own way, and perhaps the next time you will be content +to follow my advice. You must now free yourself, the +best way you can, from these Moabites, and I promise you it +will be no easy matter. Ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>Peter withdrew into the crowd; and Luke, vainly endeavoring +to discover his retreating figure, caught the eye of Jack +Palmer fixed upon himself, with a peculiar and very significant +expression.</p> + +<p>At this moment Mr. Coates made his appearance.</p> + +<p>"Bring forward the prisoner," said the man of law to his two +assistants; and Luke was accordingly hurried along, Mr. Coates +using his best efforts to keep back the crowd. It was during +the pressure that Luke heard a voice whisper in his ear, "Never +fear; all's right!" and turning his head, he became aware of +the propinquity of Jack Palmer. The latter elevated his eyebrows +with a gesture of silence, and Luke passed on as if nothing +had occurred. He was presently confronted with Lady +Rookwood and her son; and, notwithstanding the efforts of +Mr. Coates, seconded by some few others, the crowd grew +dense around them.</p> + +<p>"Remove his fetters," said Ranulph. And his manacles +were removed.</p> + +<p>"You will consent to remain here a prisoner till to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"I consent to nothing," replied Luke; "I am in your +hands."</p> + +<p>"He does not deserve your clemency, Sir Ranulph," interposed +Coates.</p> + +<p>"Let him take his own course," said Lady Rookwood; +"he will reap the benefit of it anon."</p> + +<p>"Will you pledge yourself not to depart?" asked Ranulph.</p> + +<p>"Of course," cried the attorney; "to be sure he will. Ha, +ha!"</p> + +<p>"No," returned Luke, haughtily, "I will not—and you will +detain me at your proper peril."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Better and better," exclaimed the attorney. "This is the +highest joke I ever heard."</p> + +<p>"I shall detain, you, then, in custody, until proper inquiries +can be made," said Ranulph. "To your care, Mr. Coates, +and to that of Mr. Tyrconnel, whom I must request to lend +you his assistance, I commit the charge; and I must further +request, that you will show him every attention which his situation +will permit. Remove him. We have a sacred duty to +the dead to fulfil, to which even justice to the living must give +way. Disperse this crowd, and let instant preparations be +made for the completion of the ceremonial. You understand +me, sir."</p> + +<p>"Ranulph Rookwood," said Luke, sternly, as he departed, +"you have another—a more sacred office to perform. Fulfil +your duty to your father's son."</p> + +<p>"Away with him!" cried Lady Rookwood. "I am out of +all patience with this trilling. Follow me to my chamber," +added she to her son, passing towards the door. The concourse +of spectators, who had listened to this extraordinary +scene in astonishment, made way for her instantly, and she left +the room, accompanied by Ranulph. The prisoner was led +out by the other door.</p> + +<p>"Botheration!" cried Titus to Mr. Coates, as they followed +in the wake, "why did he choose out me? I'll lose the funeral +entirely by his arrangement."</p> + +<p>"That you will," replied Palmer. "Shall I be your +deputy?"</p> + +<p>"No, no," returned Coates. "I will have no other than +Mr. Tyrconnel. It was Sir Ranulph's express wish."</p> + +<p>"That's the devil of it," returned Titus; "and I, who was +to have been chief mourner, and have made all the preparations, +am to be omitted. I wish Sir Ranulph had stayed till +to-morrow—what could bring him here, to spoil all?—it's +cursedly provoking!"</p> + +<p>"Cursed provoking!" echoed Jack.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But then there's no help, so I must make the best of +it," returned the good-humored Irishman.</p> + +<p>"Body o' me," said Coates, "there's something in all this +that I can't fathom. As to keeping the prisoner <i>here</i>, that's +all moonshine. But I suppose we shall know the whole drift +of it to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Ay," replied Jack, with a meaning smile, "to-morrow!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BOOK_II" id="BOOK_II"></a>BOOK II</h2> + + +<h3>THE SEXTON</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Duchess.</i> Thou art very plain.</p> + +<p><i>Bosola.</i> My trade is to flatter the dead—not the living—I am a +tomb-maker.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Webster.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I2" id="CHAPTER_I2"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>THE STORM</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 20em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, list, and hark! the bell doth towle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For some but now departing sowle;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And was not that some ominous fowle?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bat, the night-crow, or screech-owle?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To these I hear the wild wolf howle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In this dark night that seems to scowle;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All these my blacke-booke shall enrowle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For hark! still hark! the bell doth towle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For some but new-departed sowle!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Haywood</span>: <i>Rape of Lucrece</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>The night was wild and stormy. The day had been sultry, +with a lurid, metallic-looking sky, hanging like a vast galvanic +plate over the face of nature. As evening drew on, everything +betokened the coming tempest. Unerring indications of its +approach were noted by the weatherwise at the hall. The +swallow was seen to skim the surface of the pool so closely +that he ruffled its placid mirror as he passed; and then, sharply +darting round and round, with twittering scream, he winged +his rapid flight to his clay-built home, beneath the barn eaves. +The kine that had herded to the margin of the water, and +sought, by splashing, to relieve themselves from the keen persecution +of their myriad insect tormentors, wended stallwards, +undriven, and deeply lowing. The deer, that at twilight had +trooped thither also for refreshment, suddenly, "with expanded +nostrils, snuffed the air," and bounded off to their coverts, +amidst the sheltering fernbrake. The rooks "obstreperous of +wing, in crowds combined," cawed in a way that, as plainly as +words could have done, bespoke their apprehension; and were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +seen, some hovering and beating the air with flapping pinion, +others shooting upwards in mid space, as if to reconnoitre the +weather; while others, again, were croaking to their mates, in +loud discordant tone, from the highest branches of the lime-trees; +all, seemingly, as anxious and as busy as mariners before +a gale of wind. At sunset, the hazy vapors, which had obscured +the horizon throughout the day, rose up in spiral +volumes, like smoke from a burning forest, and, becoming +gradually condensed, assumed the form of huge, billowy masses, +which, reflecting the sun's light, changed, as the sinking orb +declined, from purple to flame-color, and thence to ashy, angry +gray. Night rushed onwards, like a sable steed. There was +a dead calm. The stillness was undisturbed, save by an intermittent, +sighing wind, which, hollow as a murmur from the +grave, died as it rose. At once the gray clouds turned to an +inky blackness. A single, sharp, intensely vivid flash, shot +from the bosom of the rack, sheer downwards, and struck the +earth with a report like that of a piece of ordnance. In ten +minutes it was dunnest night, and a rattling thunder-storm.</p> + +<p>The progress of the storm was watched with infinite apprehension +by the crowd of tenantry assembled in the great hall; +and loud and frequent were the ejaculations uttered, as each +succeeding peal burst over their heads. There was, however, +one amongst the assemblage who seemed to enjoy the uproar. +A kindred excitement appeared to blaze in his glances, as he +looked upon the storm without. This was Peter Bradley. He +stood close by the window, and shaded not his eyes, even +before the fiercest flashes. A grin of unnatural exhilaration +played upon his features, and he seemed to exult in, and to +court, the tempestuous horrors, which affected the most hardy +amongst his companions with consternation, and made all +shrink, trembling, into the recesses of the room. Peter's conduct +was not unobserved, nor his reputation for unholy dealing +forgotten. To some he was almost as much an object of +dread as the storm itself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Didst ever see the like o' that?" said Farmer Burtenshaw—one +of the guests, whose round, honest face good wine had +recently empurpled, but fear had now mottled white,—addressing +a neighbor. "Didst ever hear of any man that were a +Christian laughing in the very face o' a thunder-storm, with +the lightnin' fit to put out his eyes, and the rattle above ready +to break the drums o' his ears? I always thought Peter +Bradley was not exactly what he ought to be, and now I am +sure on it."</p> + +<p>"For my part, I think, Neighbor Burtenshaw," returned the +other, "that this great burst of weather's all of his raising, for +in all my born days I never see'd such a hurly-burly, and hope +never to see the like of it again. I've heard my grandfather +tell of folk as could command wind and rain; and, mayhap, +Peter may have the power—we all know he can do more nor +any other man."</p> + +<p>"We know, at all events," replied Burtenshaw, "that he +lives like no other man; that he spends night after night by +himself in that dreary churchyard; that he keeps no living +thing, except an old terrier dog, in his crazy cottage; and that +he never asks a body into his house from one year's end to +another. I've never crossed his threshold these twenty years. +But," continued he mysteriously, "I happened to pass the +house one dark, dismal night, and there what dost think I +see'd through the window?"</p> + +<p>"What—what didst see?"</p> + +<p>"Peter Bradley sitting with a great book open on his knees; +it were a Bible, I think, and he crying like a child."</p> + +<p>"Art sure o' that?"</p> + +<p>"The tears were falling fast upon the leaves," returned +Burtenshaw; "but when I knocked at the door, he hastily shut +up the book, and ordered me to be gone, in a surly tone, as +if he were ashamed of being caught in the fact."</p> + +<p>"I thought no tear had ever dropped from his eye," said +the other. "Why, he laughed when his daughter Susan<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +went off at the hall; and, when she died, folks said he received +hush-money to say nought about it. <i>That</i> were a bad +business, anyhow; and now that his grandson Luke be taken +in the fact of housebreaking, he minds it no more, not he, than +if nothing had happened."</p> + +<p>"Don't be too sure of that," replied Burtenshaw; "he +may be scheming summat all this time. Well, I've known +Peter Bradley now these two-and-fifty years, and, excepting +that one night, I never saw any good about him, and never +heard of nobody who could tell who he be, or where he do +come from."</p> + +<p>"One thing's certain, at least," replied the other farmer—"he +were never born at Rookwood. How he came here the +devil only knows. Save us! what a crash!—this storm be all +of his raising, I tell 'ee."</p> + +<p>"He be—what he certainly will be," interposed another +speaker, in a louder tone, and with less of apprehension in his +manner than his comrade, probably from his nerves being better +fortified with strong liquor. "Dost thou think, Samuel +Plant, as how Providence would entrust the like o' him with +the command of the elements? No—no, it's rank blasphemy +to suppose such a thing, and I've too much of the true Catholic +and apostate church about me, to stand by and hear that +said."</p> + +<p>"Maybe, then, he gets his power from the Prince of Darkness," +replied Plant; "no man else could go on as he does—only +look at him. He seems to be watching for the thunderbowt."</p> + +<p>"I wish he may catch it, then," returned the other.</p> + +<p>"That's an evil wish, Simon Toft, and thou mayst repent it."</p> + +<p>"Not I," replied Toft; "it would be a good clearance to +the neighborhood to get rid o' th' old croaking curmudgeon."</p> + +<p>Whether or not Peter overheard the conversation, we pretend +not to say, but at that moment a blaze of lightning showed him +staring fiercely at the group.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> + +<p>"As I live, he's overheard you, Simon," exclaimed Plant. +"I wouldn't be in your skin for a trifle."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," added Burtenshaw.</p> + +<p>"Let him overhear me," answered Toft; "who cares? he +shall hear summat worth listening to. I'm not afraid o' him +or his arts, were they as black as Beelzebuth's own; and to +show you I'm not, I'll go and have a crack with him on the +spot."</p> + +<p>"Thou'rt a fool for thy pains, if thou dost, Friend Toft," +returned Plant, "that's all I can say."</p> + +<p>"Be advised by me, and stay here," seconded Burtenshaw, +endeavoring to hold him back.</p> + +<p>But Toft would not be advised—</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kings may be blest, but he was glorious,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er all the ills of life victorious.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Staggering up to Peter, he laid a hard grasp upon his +shoulder, and, thus forcibly soliciting his attention, burst into +a loud horse-laugh.</p> + +<p>But Peter was, or affected to be, too much occupied to look +at him.</p> + +<p>"What dost see, man, that thou starest so?"</p> + +<p>"It comes, it comes—the rain—the rain—a torrent—a deluge—ha, +ha! Blessed is the corpse the rain rains on. Sir +Piers may be drenched through his leaden covering by such a +downfall as that—splash, splash—fire and water and thunder, +all together—is not that fine?—ha, ha! The heavens +will weep for him, though friends shed not a tear. When +did a great man's heir feel sympathy for his sire's decease? +When did his widow mourn? When doth any man +regret his fellow? Never! He rejoiceth—he maketh glad in +his inmost heart—he cannot help it—it is nature. We all +pray for—we all delight in each other's destruction. We were +created to do so; or why else should we act thus? I never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +wept for any man's death, but I have often laughed. Natural +sympathy!—out on the phrase! The distant heavens—the +senseless trees—the impenetrable stones—shall regret you +more than man shall bewail your death with more sincerity. +Ay, 'tis well—rain on—splash, splash: it will cool the +hell-fever. Down, down—buckets and pails, ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>There was a pause, during which the sexton, almost exhausted +by the frenzy in which he had suffered himself to be +involved, seemed insensible to all around him.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what," said Burtenshaw to Plant, "I have always +thought there was more in Peter Bradley nor appears on the +outside. He is not what he seems to be, take my word on it. +Lord love you! do you think a man such as he pretends to be +could talk in that sort of way—about nat'ral simpering?—no +such thing."</p> + +<p>When Peter recovered, his insane merriment broke out +afresh, having only acquired fury by the pause.</p> + +<p>"Look out, look out!" cried he; "hark to the thunder—list +to the rain! Marked ye that flash—marked ye the clock-house—and +the bird upon the roof? 'tis the rook—the great +bird of the house, that hath borne away the soul of the +departed. There, there—can you not see it? it sits and +croaks through storm and rain, and never heeds at all—and +wherefore should it heed? See, it flaps its broad black wings—it +croaks—ha, ha! It comes—it comes."</p> + +<p>And driven, it might be by the terror of the storm, from +more secure quarters, a bird, at this instant, was dashed against +the window, and fell to the ground.</p> + +<p>"That's a call," continued Peter; "it will be over soon, and +we must set out. The dead will not need to tarry. Look at +that trail of fire along the avenue; dost see yon line of sparkles, +like a rocket's tail? That's the path the corpse will take. St. +Hermes's flickering fire, Robin Goodfellow's dancing light, or +the blue flame of the corpse-candle, which I saw flitting to the +churchyard last week, was not so pretty a sight—ha, ha! You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +asked me for a song a moment ago—you shall have one now +without asking."</p> + +<p>And without waiting to consult the inclinations of his comrades, +Peter broke into the following wild strain with all the +fervor of a half-crazed improvisatore:</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE CORPSE-CANDLE</p> + + +<p class="center">Lambere flamma <span title="taphos">ταφος</span> et circum funera pasci.</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 23em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through the midnight gloom did a pale blue light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the churchyard mirk wing its lonesome flight:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrice it floated those old walls round—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrice it paused—till the grave it found.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the grass-green sod it glanced,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the fresh-turned earth it danced,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a torch in the night-breeze quivering—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never was seen so gay a thing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never was seen so blithe a sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the midnight dance of that blue light!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now what of that pale blue flame dost know?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canst tell where it comes from, or where it will go?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it the soul, released from clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the earth that takes its way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tarries a moment in mirth and glee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the corse it hath quitted interred shall be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or is it the trick of some fanciful sprite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That taketh in mortal mischance delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And marketh the road the coffin shall go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the spot where the dead shall be soon laid low?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ask him who can answer these questions aright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know not the cause of that pale blue light!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"I can't say I like thy song, Master Peter," said Toft, as +the sexton finished his stave, "but if thou <i>didst</i> see a corpse-candle, +as thou call'st thy pale blue flame, whose death doth +it betoken?—eh!"</p> + +<p>"Thine own," returned Peter, sharply.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mine! thou lying old cheat—dost dare to say that to my +face? Why, I'm as hale and hearty as ever a man in the +house. Dost think there's no life and vigor in this arm, thou +drivelling old dotard?"</p> + +<p>Upon which, Toft seized Peter by the throat with an energy +that, but for the timely intervention of the company, who +rushed to his assistance, the prophet might himself have anticipated +the doom he prognosticated.</p> + +<p>Released from the grasp of Toft, who was held back by the +bystanders, Peter again broke forth into his eldritch laugh; and +staring right into the face of his adversary, with eyes glistening, +and hands uplifted, as if in the act of calling down an imprecation +on his head, he screamed, in a shrill and discordant +voice, "Soh! you will not take my warning? you revile me—you +flout me! 'Tis well! your fate shall prove a warning to all +unbelievers—<i>they</i> shall remember this night, though <i>you</i> will +not. Fool! fool!—your doom has long been sealed! I saw +your wraith choose out its last lodgment on Halloween; I +know the spot. Your grave is dug already—ha, ha!" And, +with renewed laughter, Peter rushed out of the room.</p> + +<p>"Did I not caution thee not to provoke him, friend Toft?" +said Plant; "it's ill playing with edge-tools; but don't let him +fly off in that tantrum—one of ye go after him."</p> + +<p>"That will I," replied Burtenshaw; and he departed in +search of the sexton.</p> + +<p>"I'd advise thee to make it up with Peter so soon as thou +canst, neighbor," continued Plant; "he's a bad friend, but a +worse enemy."</p> + +<p>"Why, what harm can he do me?" returned Toft, who, +however, was not without some misgivings. "If I must die, I +can't help it—I shall go none the sooner for him, even if he +speak the truth, which I don't think he do; and if I must, I +sha'n't go unprepared—only I think as how, if it pleased +Providence, I could have wished to keep my old missus company +some few years longer, and see those bits of lasses of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +mine grow up into women, and respectably provided for. But +His will be done. I sha'n't leave 'em quite penniless, and +there's one eye at least, I'm sure, won't be dry at my departure." +Here the stout heart of Toft gave way, and he shed +some few "natural tears," which, however, he speedily brushed +away. "I'll tell you what, neighbors," continued he, "I +think we may all as well be thinking of going to our own +homes, for, to my mind, we shall never reach the churchyard +to-night."</p> + +<p>"That <i>you</i> never will," exclaimed a voice behind him; and +Toft, turning round, again met the glance of Peter.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Master Peter," cried the good-natured +farmer, "this be ugly jesting—ax pardon for my share of it—sorry +for what I did—so give us thy hand, man, and think no +more about it."</p> + +<p>Peter extended his claw, and the parties were, apparently, +once more upon terms of friendship.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II2" id="CHAPTER_II2"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>THE FUNERAL ORATION</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 20em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In northern customs duty was exprest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To friends departed by their funeral feast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though I've consulted Hollingshed and Stow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I find it very difficult to know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, to refresh the attendants to the grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burnt claret first, or Naples' biscuit gave.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">King</span>: <i>Art of Cookery</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Ceterum priusquam corpus humo injectâ contegatur, defunctus oratione +funebri laudabatur.—<span class="smcap">Durand.</span></p></div> + + +<p>A supply of spirits was here introduced; lights were brought +at the same time, and placed upon a long oak table. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +party gathering round it, ill-humor was speedily dissipated, +and even the storm disregarded, in the copious libations that +ensued. At this juncture, a loiterer appeared in the hall. +His movements were unnoticed by all excepting the sexton, +who watched his proceedings with some curiosity. The person +walked to the window, appearing, so far as could be discovered, +to eye the storm with great impatience. He then paced the +hall rapidly backwards and forwards, and Peter fancied he +could detect sounds of disappointment in his muttered exclamations. +Again he returned to the window, as if to ascertain the +probable duration of the shower. It was a hopeless endeavor; +all was pitch-dark without; the lightning was now only seen +at long intervals, but the rain still audibly descended in torrents. +Apparently seeing the impossibility of controlling the +elements, the person approached the table.</p> + +<p>"What think you of the night, Mr. Palmer?" asked the sexton +of Jack, for he was the anxious investigator of the weather.</p> + +<p>"Don't know—can't say—set in, I think—cursed unlucky—for +the funeral, I mean—we shall be drowned if we go."</p> + +<p>"And drunk if we stay," rejoined Peter. "But never fear, +it will hold up, depend upon it, long before we can start. +Where have they put the prisoner?" asked he, with a sudden +change of manner.</p> + +<p>"I know the room, but can't describe it; it's two or three +doors down the lower corridor of the eastern gallery."</p> + +<p>"Good. Who are on guard?"</p> + +<p>"Titus Tyrconnel and that swivel-eyed quill-driver, Coates."</p> + +<p>"Enough."</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Master Peter," roared Toft, "let's have another +stave. Give us one of your odd snatches. No more +corpse-candles, or that sort of thing. Something lively—something +jolly—ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>"A good move," shouted Jack. "A lively song from <i>you</i>—lillibullero +from a death's-head—ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>"My songs are all of a sort," returned Peter; "I am seldom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +asked to sing a second time. However, you are welcome to +the merriest I have." And preparing himself, like certain +other accomplished vocalists, with a few preliminary hems and +haws, he struck forth the following doleful ditty:</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE OLD OAK COFFIN</p> + + +<p class="center">Sic ego componi versus in ossa velim.—<span class="smcap">Tibullus.</span></p> +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 33em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In a churchyard, upon the sward, a coffin there was laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leaning stood, beside the wood, a sexton on his spade.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A coffin old and black it was, and fashioned curiously,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With quaint device of carved oak, in hideous fantasie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For here was wrought the sculptured thought of a tormented face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With serpents lithe that round it writhe, in folded strict embrace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grim visages of grinning fiends were at each corner set,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And emblematic scrolls, mort-heads, and bones together met.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ah, welladay!" that sexton gray unto himself did cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Beneath that lid much lieth hid—much awful mysterie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is an ancient coffin from the abbey that stood here;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance it holds an abbot's bones, perchance those of a frere.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In digging deep, where monks do sleep, beneath yon cloister shrined,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That coffin old, within the mould, it was my chance to find;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The costly carvings of the lid I scraped full carefully,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In hope to get at name or date, yet nothing could I see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"With pick and spade I've plied my trade for sixty years and more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet never found, beneath the ground, shell strange as that before;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full many coffins have I seen—have seen them deep or flat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fantastical in fashion—none fantastical as that."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And saying so, with heavy blow, the lid he shattered wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, pale with fright, a ghastly sight that sexton gray espied;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A miserable sight it was, that loathsome corpse to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last, last, dreary, darksome stage of fall'n humanity.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though all was gone, save reeky bone, a green and grisly heap,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With scarce a trace of fleshly face, strange posture did it keep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hands were clenched, the teeth were wrenched, as if the wretch had risen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en after death had ta'en his breath, to strive and burst his prison.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The neck was bent, the nails were rent, no limb or joint was straight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together glued, with blood imbued, black and coagulate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as the sexton stooped him down to lift the coffin plank,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His fingers were defiled all o'er with slimy substance dank.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ah, welladay!" that sexton gray unto himself did cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Full well I see how Fate's decree foredoomed this wretch to die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A living man, a breathing man, within the coffin thrust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alack! alack! the agony ere he returned to dust!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A vision drear did then appear unto that sexton's eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like that poor wight before him straight he in a coffin lies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lieth in a trance within that coffin close and fast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet though he sleepeth now, he feels he shall awake at last.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The coffin, then, by reverend men, is borne with footsteps slow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where tapers shine before the shrine, where breathes the requiem low;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for the dead the prayer is said, for the soul that is <i>not</i> flown—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then all is drowned in hollow sound, the earth is o'er him thrown!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He draweth breath—he wakes from death to life more horrible;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To agony! such agony! no living tongue may tell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Die! die he must, that wretched one! he struggles—strives in vain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more Heaven's light, nor sunshine bright, shall he behold again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gramercy, Lord!" the sexton roared, awakening suddenly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"If this be dream, yet doth it seem most dreadful so to die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, cast my body in the sea! or hurl it on the shore!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But nail me not in coffin fast—no grave will I dig more."<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>It was not difficult to discover the effect produced by this +song, in the lengthened faces of the greater part of the audience. +Jack Palmer, however, laughed loud and long.</p> + +<p>"Bravo, bravo!" cried he; "that suits my humor exactly. +I can't abide the thoughts of a coffin. No deal box for me."</p> + +<p>"A gibbet might, perhaps, serve your turn as well," muttered +the sexton; adding aloud, "I am now entitled to call upon +you;—a song!—a song!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, a song, Mr. Palmer, a song!" reiterated the hinds. +"Yours will be the right kind of thing."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Say no more," replied Jack. "I'll give you a chant composed +upon Dick Turpin, the highwayman. It's no great +shakes, to be sure, but it's the best I have." And, with a +knowing wink at the sexton, he commenced, in the true nasal +whine, the following strain:</p> + +<p class="hd1">ONE FOOT IN THE STIRRUP</p> + +<p class="center"><small><b>OR TURPIN'S FIRST FLING</b></small></p> + +<p class="center">Cum esset proposita fuga <i>Turpi</i>(n)<i>s</i>.—<span class="smcap">Cicero.</span></p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 26em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"One foot in the stirrup, one hand in the rein,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the noose be my portion, or freedom I'll gain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! give me a seat in my saddle once more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And these bloodhounds shall find that the chase is not o'er!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus muttered Dick Turpin, who found, while he slept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the Philistines old on his slumbers had crept;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had entrapped him as puss on her form you'd ensnare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that gone were his snappers—and gone was his mare.<br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>Hilloah!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How Dick had been captured is readily told,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pursuit had been hot, though the night had been cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So at daybreak, exhausted, he sought brief repose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mid the thick of a corn-field, away from his foes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in vain was his caution—in vain did his steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever watchful and wakeful in moments of need,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lip and with hoof on her master's cheek press—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He slept on, nor heeded the warning of Bess.<br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>Hilloah!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Zounds! gem'men!" cried Turpin, "you've found me at fault,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the highflying highwayman's come to a halt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have turned up a trump—for I weigh well my weight,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the <i>forty is yours</i>, though the halter's <i>my</i> fate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, come on't what will, you shall own when all's past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Dick Turpin, the Dauntless, was game to the last.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, before we go further, I'll hold you a bet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That one foot in my stirrup you won't let me set.<br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>Hilloah!</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A hundred to one is the odds <i>I</i> will stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hundred to one is the odds <i>you</i> command;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here's a handful of goldfinches ready to fly!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May I venture a foot in my stirrup to try?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As he carelessly spoke, Dick directed a glance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At his courser, and motioned her slyly askance:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You might tell by the singular toss of her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the prick of her ears, that his meaning she read.<br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>Hilloah!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With derision at first was Dick's wager received,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his error at starting as yet unretrieved;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when from his pocket the shiners he drew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And offered to "make up the hundred to two,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There were havers in plenty, and each whispered each,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The same thing, though varied in figure of speech,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Let the fool act his folly—the stirrup of Bess!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has put his foot <i>in it</i> already, we guess!"<br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>Hilloah!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bess was brought to her master—Dick steadfastly gazed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the eye of his mare, then his foot quick upraised;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His toe touched the stirrup, his hand grasped the rein—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was safe on the back of his courser again!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the clarion, fray-sounding and shrill, was the neigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Black Bess, as she answered his cry "Hark-away!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Beset me, ye bloodhounds! in rear and in van;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My foot's in the stirrup and catch me who can!"<br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>Hilloah!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was riding and gibing mid rabble and rout,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the old woods re-echoed the Philistines' shout!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was hurling and whirling o'er brake and o'er brier,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the course of Dick Turpin was swift as Heaven's fire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whipping, spurring, and straining would nothing avail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dick laughed at their curses, and scoffed at their wail;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My foot's in the stirrup!"—thus rang his last cry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Bess has answered my call; now her mettle we'll try!"<br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>Hilloah!</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Uproarious applause followed Jack's song, when the joviality +of the mourners was interrupted by a summons to attend in +the state-room. Silence was at once completely restored; and, +in the best order they could assume, they followed their leader,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +Peter Bradley. Jack Palmer was amongst the last to enter, +and remained a not incurious spectator of a by no means +common scene.</p> + +<p>Preparations had been made to give due solemnity to the +ceremonial. The leaden coffin was fastened down, and enclosed +in an outer case of oak, upon the lid of which stood a +richly-chased massive silver flagon, filled with burnt claret, +called the grace-cup. All the lights were removed, save two +lofty wax flambeaux, which were placed to the back, and threw +a lurid glare upon the group immediately about the body, +consisting of Ranulph Rookwood and some other friends of +the deceased. Dr. Small stood in front of the bier; and, +under the directions of Peter Bradley, the tenantry and household +were formed into a wide half-moon across the chamber. +There was a hush of expectation, as Dr. Small looked +gravely round; and even Jack Palmer, who was as little likely +as any man to yield to an impression of the kind, felt himself +moved by the scene.</p> + +<p>The very orthodox Small, as is well known to our readers, +held everything savoring of the superstitions of the Scarlet +Woman in supreme abomination; and, entertaining such opinions, +it can scarcely be supposed that a funeral oration would +find much favor in his eyes, accompanied, as it was, with the +accessories of censer, candle, and cup; all evidently derived +from that period when, under the three-crowned pontiff's sway, +the shaven priest pronounced his benediction o'er the dead, +and released the penitent's soul from purgatorial flames, while +he heavily mulcted the price of his redemption from the possessions +of his successor. Small resented the idea of treading +in such steps, as an insult to himself and his cloth. Was he, +the intolerant of Papistry, to tolerate this? Was he, who could +not endure the odor of Catholicism, to have his nostrils thus +polluted—his garments thus defiled by actual contact with it? +It was not to be thought of: and he had formally signified his +declination to Mr. Coates, when a little conversation with that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +gentleman, and certain weighty considerations therein held +forth—the advowson of the church of Rookwood residing with +the family—and represented by him, as well as the placing in +juxtaposition of penalties to be incurred by refusal, that the +scruples of Small gave way; and, with the best grace he could +muster, very reluctantly promised compliance.</p> + +<p>With these feelings, it will be readily conceived that the +doctor was not in the best possible frame of mind for the delivery +of his exhortation. His spirit had been ruffled by a +variety of petty annoyances, amongst the greatest of which was +the condition to which the good cheer had reduced his clerk, +Zachariah Trundletext, whose reeling eye, pendulous position, +and open mouth proclaimed him absolutely incapable of office. +Zachariah was, in consequence, dismissed, and Small commenced +his discourse unsupported. But as our recording it +would not probably conduce to the amusement of our readers, +whatever it might to their edification, we shall pass it over with +very brief mention. Suffice it to say, that the oration was so +thickly interstrewn with lengthy quotations from the fathers,—Chrysostomus, +Hieronymus, Ambrosius, Basilius, Bernardus, +and the rest, with whose recondite Latinity, notwithstanding the +clashing of their opinions with his own, the doctor was intimately +acquainted, and which he moreover delighted to quote,—that +his auditors were absolutely mystified and perplexed, and +probably not without design. Countenances of such amazement +were turned towards him, that Small, who had a keen +sense of the ludicrous, could scarcely forbear smiling as he +proceeded; and if we could suspect so grave a personage of +waggery, we should almost think that, by way of retaliation, +he had palmed some abstruse, monkish epicedium upon his +astounded auditors.</p> + +<p>The oration concluded, biscuits and confectionery were, +according to old observance, handed to such of the tenantry +as chose to partake of them. The serving of the grace-cup, +which ought to have formed part of the duties of Zachariah,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +had he been capable of office, fell to the share of the sexton. +The bowl was kissed, first by Ranulph, with lips that trembled +with emotion, and afterward by his surrounding friends; but +no drop was tasted—a circumstance which did not escape +Peter's observation. Proceeding to the tenantry, the first in +order happened to be Farmer Toft. Peter presented the cup, +and as Toft was about to drain a deep draught of the wine, +Peter whispered in his ear, "Take my advice for once, Friend +Toft, and don't let a bubble of the liquid pass your lips. For +every drop of the wine you drain, Sir Piers will have one sin +the less, and you a load the heavier on your conscience. +Didst never hear of sin-swallowing? For what else was this +custom adopted? Seest thou not the cup's brim hath not yet +been moistened? Well, as you will—ha, ha!" And the sexton +passed onwards.</p> + +<p>His work being nearly completed, he looked around for +Jack Palmer, whom he had remarked during the oration, but +could nowhere discover him. Peter was about to place the +flagon, now almost drained of its contents, upon its former +resting-place, when Small took it from his hands.</p> + +<p>"<i>In poculi fundo residuum non relinque</i>, admonisheth Pythagoras," +said he, returning the empty cup to the sexton.</p> + +<p>"My task here is ended," muttered Peter, "but not elsewhere. +Foul weather or fine, thunder or rain, I must to the church."</p> + +<p>Bequeathing his final instructions to certain of the household +who were to form part of the procession, in case it set out, he +opened the hall door, and, the pelting shower dashing heavily +in his face, took his way up the avenue, screaming, as he +strode along, the following congenial rhymes:</p> + + +<p class="hd1">EPHIALTES</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 24em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I ride alone—I ride by night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the moonless air on a courser white!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the dreaming earth I fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here and there—at my fantasy!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +<span class="i0">My frame is withered, my visage old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My locks are frore, and my bones ice cold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wolf will howl as I pass his lair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ban-dog moan, and the screech-owl stare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For breath, at my coming, the sleeper strains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the freezing current forsakes his veins!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vainly for pity the wretch may sue—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Merciless Mara no prayers subdue!<br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>To his couch I flit—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>On his breast I sit!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Astride! astride! astride!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>And one charm alone</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>—A hollow stone!—</i><a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Can scare me from his side!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A thousand antic shapes I take;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stoutest heart at my touch will quake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The miser dreams of a bag of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or a ponderous chest on his bosom rolled.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The drunkard groans 'neath a cask of wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The reveller swelts 'neath a weighty chine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The recreant turns, by his foes assailed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To flee!—but his feet to the ground are nailed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The goatherd dreams of his mountain-tops,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, dizzily reeling, downward drops.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The murderer feels at his throat a knife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gasps, as his victim gasped, for life!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thief recoils from the scorching brand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mariner drowns in sight of land!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus sinful man have I power to fray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Torture, and rack, but not to slay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ever the couch of purity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With shuddering glance, I hurry by.<br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Then mount! away!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>To horse! I say,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>To horse! astride! astride!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>The fire-drake shoots—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>The screech-owl hoots—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>As through the air I glide!</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III2" id="CHAPTER_III2"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>THE CHURCHYARD</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 20em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Methought I walked, about the mid of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into a churchyard.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Webster</span>: <i>The White Devil</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>Lights streamed through the chancel window as the sexton +entered the churchyard, darkly defining all the ramified tracery +of the noble Gothic arch, and illumining the gorgeous dyes of +its richly-stained glass, profusely decorated with the armorial +bearings of the founder of the fane, and the many alliances of +his descendants. The sheen of their blazonry gleamed bright +in the darkness, as if to herald to his last home another of +the line whose achievements it displayed. Glowing colorings, +checkered like rainbow tints, were shed upon the broken +leaves of the adjoining yew-trees, and upon the rounded grassy +tombs.</p> + +<p>Opening the gate, as he looked in that direction, Peter became +aware of a dark figure, enveloped in a large black cloak, +and covered with a slouched hat, standing at some distance, +between the window and the tree, and so intervening as to +receive the full influence of the stream of radiance which +served to dilate its almost superhuman stature. The sexton +stopped. The figure remained stationary. There was something +singular both in the costume and situation of the person. +Peter's curiosity was speedily aroused, and, familiar with every +inch of the churchyard, he determined to take the nearest cut, +and to ascertain to whom the mysterious cloak and hat belonged. +Making his way over the undulating graves, and +instinctively rounding the headstones that intercepted his path, +he quickly drew near the object of his inquiry. From the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +moveless posture it maintained, the figure appeared to be +unconscious of Peter's approach. To his eyes it seemed to +expand as he advanced. He was now almost close upon it, +when his progress was arrested by a violent grasp laid on his +shoulder. He started, and uttered an exclamation of alarm. +At this moment a vivid flash of lightning illumined the whole +churchyard, and Peter then thought he beheld, at some distance +from him, two other figures, bearing upon their shoulders +a huge chest, or, it might be, a coffin. The garb of these +figures, so far as it could be discerned through the drenching +rain, was fantastical in the extreme. The foremost seemed to +have a long white beard descending to his girdle. Little +leisure, however, was allowed Peter for observation. The +vision no sooner met his glance than it disappeared, and nothing +was seen but the glimmering tombstones—nothing heard +but the whistling wind and the heavily-descending shower. +He rubbed his eyes. The muffled figure had vanished, and +not a trace could be discovered of the mysterious coffin-bearers, +if such they were.</p> + +<p>"What have I seen?" mentally ejaculated Peter: "is this +sorcery or treachery, or both? No body-snatchers would visit +this place on a night like this, when the whole neighborhood +is aroused. Can it be a vision I have seen? Pshaw! shall I +juggle myself as I deceive these hinds? It was no bearded +demon that I beheld, but the gipsy patrico, Balthazar. I knew +him at once. But what meant that muffled figure; and whose +arm could it have been that griped my shoulder? Ha! what +if Lady Rookwood should have given orders for the removal of +Susan's body? No, no; that cannot be. Besides, I have the +keys of the vault; and there are hundreds now in the church +who would permit no such desecration. I am perplexed to +think what it can mean. But I will to the vault." Saying +which, he hastened to the church porch, and after wringing +the wet from his clothes, as a water-dog might shake the +moisture from his curly hide, and doffing his broad felt hat, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +entered the holy edifice. The interior seemed one blaze of +light to the sexton, in his sudden transition from outer darkness. +Some few persons were assembled, probably such as +were engaged in the preparations; but there was one group +which immediately caught his attention.</p> + +<p>Near the communion-table stood three persons, habited in +deep mourning, apparently occupied in examining the various +monumental carvings that enriched the walls. Peter's office +led him to that part of the church. About to descend into +the vaults, to make the last preparations for the reception of the +dead, with lantern in hand, keys, and a crowbar, he approached +the party. Little attention was paid to the sexton's proceedings, +till the harsh grating of the lock attracted their notice.</p> + +<p>Peter started as he beheld the face of one of the three, and +relaxing his hold upon the key, the strong bolt shot back in +the lock. There was a whisper amongst the party. A light +step was heard advancing towards him; and ere the sexton +could sufficiently recover his surprise, or force open the door, +a female figure stood by his side.</p> + +<p>The keen, inquiring stare which Peter bestowed upon the +countenance of the young lady so much abashed her, that she +hesitated in her purpose of addressing him, and hastily retired.</p> + +<p>"She here!" muttered Peter; "nay, then, I must no longer +withhold the dreaded secret from Luke, or Ranulph may, +indeed, wrest his possessions from him."</p> + +<p>Reinforced by her companions, an elderly lady and a tall, +handsome man, whose bearing and deportment bespoke him +to be a soldier, the fair stranger again ventured towards Peter.</p> + +<p>"You are the sexton," said she, addressing him in a voice +sweet and musical.</p> + +<p>"I am," returned Peter. It was harmony succeeded by +dissonance.</p> + +<p>"You, perhaps, can tell us, then," said the elderly lady, +"whether the funeral is likely to take place to-night? We +thought it possible that the storm might altogether prevent it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The storm is over, as nearly as maybe," replied Peter. +"The body will soon be on its way. I am but now arrived +from the hall."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" exclaimed the lady. "None of the family will +be present, I suppose. Who is the chief mourner?"</p> + +<p>"Young Sir Ranulph," answered the sexton. "There will +be more of the family than were expected."</p> + +<p>"Is Sir Ranulph returned?" asked the young lady, with +great agitation of manner. "I thought he was abroad—that +he was not expected. Are you sure you are rightly informed?"</p> + +<p>"I parted with him at the hall not ten minutes since," +replied Peter. "He returned from France to-night most +unexpectedly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother!" exclaimed the younger lady, "that this +should be—that I should meet him here. Why did we +come?—let us depart."</p> + +<p>"Impossible!" replied her mother; "the storm forbids it. +This man's information is so strange, I scarce can credit it. +Are you sure you have asserted the truth?" said she, addressing +Peter.</p> + +<p>"I am not accustomed to be doubted," answered he. +"Other things as strange have happened at the hall."</p> + +<p>"What mean you?" asked the gentleman, noticing this last +remark.</p> + +<p>"You would not need to ask the question of me, had you +been there, amongst the other guests," retorted Peter. "Odd +things, I tell you, have been done there this night, and stranger +things may occur before the morning."</p> + +<p>"You are insolent, sirrah! I comprehend you not."</p> + +<p>"Enough! I can comprehend <i>you</i>," replied Peter, significantly; +"I know the count of the mourners invited to +this ceremonial, and I am aware that there are three too +many."</p> + +<p>"Know you this saucy knave, mother?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I cannot call him to mind, though I fancy I have seen +him before."</p> + +<p>"My recollection serves me better, lady," interposed Peter. +"I remember one who was once the proud heiress of Rookwood—ay, +proud and beautiful. Then the house was filled +with her gallant suitors. Swords were crossed for her. Hearts +bled for her. Yet she favored none, until one hapless hour. +Sir Reginald Rookwood <i>had</i> a daughter; Sir Reginald <i>lost</i> a +daughter. Ha!—I see I am right. Well, he is dead and +buried; and Reginald, his son, is dead likewise; and Piers is +on his road hither; and you are the last, as in the course +of nature you might have been the first. And, now that they +are all gone, you do rightly to bury your grievances with them."</p> + +<p>"Silence, sirrah!" exclaimed the gentleman, "or I will beat +your brains out with your own spade."</p> + +<p>"No; let him speak, Vavasour," said the lady, with an +expression of anguish—"he has awakened thoughts of other +days."</p> + +<p>"I have done," said Peter, "and must to work. Will you +descend with me, madam, into the sepulchre of your ancestry? +All your family lie within—ay, and the Lady Eleanor, your +mother, amongst the number."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mowbray signified her assent, and the party prepared +to follow him.</p> + +<p>The sexton held the lantern so as to throw its light upon the +steps as they entered the gloomy receptacle of the departed. +Eleanor half repented having ventured within its dreary limits, +so much did the appearance of the yawning catacombs, surcharged +with mortality, and, above all, the ghostly figure of the +grim knight, affect her with dread, as she looked wistfully +around. She required all the support her brother's arm could +afford her; nor was Mrs. Mowbray altogether unmoved.</p> + +<p>"And all the family are here interred, you say?" inquired +the latter.</p> + +<p>"All," replied the sexton.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where, then, lies Sir Reginald's younger brother?"</p> + +<p>"Who?" exclaimed Peter, starting.</p> + +<p>"Alan Rookwood."</p> + +<p>"What of him?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing of moment. But I thought you could, perhaps, +inform me. He died young."</p> + +<p>"He did," replied Peter, in an altered tone—"very young; +but not before he had lived to an old age of wretchedness. +Do you know his story, madam?"</p> + +<p>"I have heard it."</p> + +<p>"From your father's lips?"</p> + +<p>"From Sir Reginald Rookwood's—never. Call him not +my father, sirrah; even <i>here</i> I will not have him named so to +me."</p> + +<p>"Your pardon, madam," returned the sexton. "Great +cruelty was shown to the Lady Eleanor, and may well call forth +implacable resentment in her child; yet methinks the wrong +he did his brother Alan was the foulest stain with which Sir +Reginald's black soul was dyed."</p> + +<p>"With what particular wrong dost thou charge Sir Reginald?" +demanded Major Mowbray. "What injury did he +inflict upon his brother Alan?"</p> + +<p>"He wronged his brother's honor," replied the sexton; +"he robbed him of his wife, poisoned his existence, and hurried +him to an untimely grave."</p> + +<p>Eleanor shudderingly held back during this horrible narration, +the hearing of which she would willingly have shunned, +had it been possible.</p> + +<p>"Can this be true?" asked the major.</p> + +<p>"Too true, my son," replied Mrs. Mowbray, sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>"And where lies the unfortunate Alan?" asked Major +Mowbray.</p> + +<p>"'Twixt two cross roads. Where else should the suicide +lie?"</p> + +<p>Evading any further question, Peter hastily traversed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +vault, elevating the light so as to reveal the contents of each +cell. One circumstance filled him with surprise and dismay—he +could nowhere perceive the coffin of his daughter. In vain +he peered into every catacomb—they were apparently undisturbed; +and, with much internal marvelling and misgiving, +Peter gave up the search. "That vision is now explained," +muttered he; "the body is removed, but by whom? Death! +can I doubt? It must be Lady Rookwood—who else can +have any interest in its removal. She has acted boldly. But +she shall yet have reason to repent her temerity." As he continued +his search, his companions silently followed. Suddenly +he stopped, and, signifying that all was finished, they not unwillingly +quitted this abode of horror, leaving him behind them.</p> + +<p>"It is a dreadful place," whispered Eleanor to her mother; +"nor would I have visited it, had I conceived anything of its +horrors. And that strange man! who or what is he?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, who is he?" repeated Major Mowbray.</p> + +<p>"I recollect him now," replied Mrs. Mowbray; "he is one +who has ever been connected with the family. He had a +daughter, whose beauty was her ruin: it is a sad tale; I cannot +tell it now: you have heard enough of misery and guilt: +but that may account for his bitterness of speech. He was a +dependent upon my poor brother."</p> + +<p>"Poor man!" replied Eleanor; "if he has been unfortunate, +I pity him. I am sorry we have been into that dreadful +place. I am very faint: and I tremble more than ever at +the thought of meeting Ranulph Rookwood again. I can +scarcely support myself—I am sure I shall not venture to look +upon him."</p> + +<p>"Had I dreamed of the likelihood of his attending the ceremony, +rest assured, dear Eleanor, we should not have been +here: but I was informed there was no possibility of his return. +Compose yourself, my child. It will be a trying time +to both of us; but it is now inevitable."</p> + +<p>At this moment the bell began to toll. "The procession<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +has started," said Peter, as he passed the Mowbrays. "That +bell announces the setting out."</p> + +<p>"See yonder persons hurrying to the door," exclaimed Eleanor, +with eagerness, and trembling violently. "They are +coming. Oh! I shall never be able to go through with it, +dear mother."</p> + +<p>Peter hastened to the church door, where he stationed himself, +in company with a host of others, equally curious. Flickering +lights in the distance, shining like stars through the trees, +showed them that the procession was collecting in front of the +hall. The rain had now entirely ceased; the thunder muttered +from afar, and the lightning seemed only to lick the +moisture from the trees. The bell continued to toll, and its +loud booming awoke the drowsy echoes of the valley. On the +sudden, a solitary, startling concussion of thunder was heard; +and presently a man rushed down from the belfry, with the +tidings that he had seen a ball of fire fall from a cloud right +over the hall. Every ear was on the alert for the next sound; +none was heard. It was the crisis of the storm. Still the +funeral procession advanced not. The strong sheen of the +torchlight was still visible from the bottom of the avenue, now +disappearing, now brightly glimmering, as if the bearers were +hurrying to and fro amongst the trees. It was evident that +much confusion prevailed, and that some misadventure had +occurred. Each man muttered to his neighbor, and few were +there who had not in a measure surmised the cause of the delay. +At this juncture, a person without his hat, breathless with +haste and almost palsied with fright, rushed through the midst +of them and, stumbling over the threshold, fell headlong into +the church.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Master Plant? What has happened? +Tell us! Tell us!" exclaimed several voices simultaneously.</p> + +<p>"Lord have mercy upon us!" cried Plant, gasping for +utterance, and not attempting to raise himself. "It's horrible! +dreadful! oh!—oh!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What has happened?" inquired Peter, approaching the +fallen man.</p> + +<p>"And dost <i>thou</i> need to ask, Peter Bradley? thou, who foretold +it all? but I will not say what I think, though my tongue +itches to tell thee the truth. Be satisfied, thy wizard's lore +has served thee right—he is dead."</p> + +<p>"Who? Ranulph Rookwood? Has anything befallen +him, or the prisoner, Luke Bradley?" asked the sexton, with +eagerness.</p> + +<p>A scream here burst forth from one who was standing behind +the group; and, in spite of the efforts of her mother to withhold +her, Eleanor Mowbray rushed forward.</p> + +<p>"Has aught happened to Sir Ranulph?" asked she.</p> + +<p>"Noa—noa—not to Sir Ranulph—he be with the body."</p> + +<p>"Heaven be thanked for that!" exclaimed Eleanor. And +then, as if ashamed of her own vehemence, and, it might +seem, apparent indifference to another's fate, she inquired +who was hurt.</p> + +<p>"It be poor neighbor Toft, that be killed by a thunderbolt, +ma'am," replied Plant.</p> + +<p>Exclamations of horror burst from all around.</p> + +<p>No one was more surprised at this intelligence than the sexton. +Like many other seers, he had not, in all probability, +calculated upon the fulfilment of his predictions, and he now +stared aghast at the extent of his own foreknowledge.</p> + +<p>"I tell 'ee what, Master Peter," said Plant, shaking his bullet-head, +"it be well for thee thou didn't live in my grandfather's +time, or thou'dst ha' been ducked in a blanket; or may be +burnt at the stake, like Ridley and Latimer, as we read on—but +however that may be, ye shall hear how poor Toft's death +came to pass, and nobody can tell 'ee better nor I, seeing I +were near to him, poor fellow, at the time. Well, we thought +as how the storm were all over—and had all got into order of +march, and were just beginning to step up the avenue, the +coffin-bearers pushing lustily along, and the torches shining<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +grandly, when poor Simon Toft, who could never travel well +in liquor in his life, reeled to one side, and staggering against +the first huge lime-tree, sat himself down beneath it—thou +knowest the tree I mean."</p> + +<p>"The tree of fate," returned Peter. "I ought, methinks, +to know it."</p> + +<p>"Well, I were just stepping aside to pick him up, when all +at once there comes such a crack of thunder, and, whizzing +through the trees, flashed a great globe of red fire, so bright +and dazzlin', it nearly blinded me; and when I opened my +eyes, winkin' and waterin', I see'd that which blinded me +more even than the flash—that which had just afore been poor +Simon, but which was now a mass o' black smouldering ashes, +clean consumed and destroyed—his clothes rent to a thousand +tatters—the earth and stones tossed up, and scattered all +about, and a great splinter of the tree lying beside him."</p> + +<p>"Heaven's will be done!" said the sexton; "this is an +awful judgment."</p> + +<p>"And Sathan cast down; for this is a spice o' his handiwork," +muttered Plant; adding, as he slunk away, "If ever +Peter Bradley do come to the blanket, dang me if I don't +lend a helpin' hand."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV2" id="CHAPTER_IV2"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>THE FUNERAL</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 20em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How like a silent stream, shaded by night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gliding softly with our windy sighs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moves the whole frame of this solemnity!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tears, sighs, and blacks, filling the simile!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whilst I, the only murmur in this grove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of death, thus hollowly break forth.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>The Fatal Dowry.</i></p></div> + + +<p>Word being given that the funeral train was fast approaching, +the church door was thrown open, and the assemblage +divided in two lines, to allow it admission.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, a striking change had taken place, even in this +brief period, in the appearance of the night. The sky, heretofore +curtained with darkness, was now illumined by a serene, +soft moon, which, floating in a watery halo, tinged with silvery +radiance the edges of a few ghostly clouds that hurried along +the deep and starlit skies. The suddenness of the change +could not fail to excite surprise and admiration, mingled with +regret that the procession had not been delayed until the +present time.</p> + +<p>Slowly and mournfully the train was seen to approach the +churchyard, winding, two by two, with melancholy step, around +the corner of the road. First came Dr. Small; then the mutes, +with their sable panoply; next, the torch-bearers; next, those +who sustained the coffin, bending beneath their ponderous +burden, followed by Sir Ranulph and a long line of attendants, +all plainly to be distinguished by the flashing torchlight. There +was a slight halt at the gate, and the coffin changed supporters.</p> + +<p>"Ill luck betide them!" ejaculated Peter; "could they find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +no other place except that to halt at? Must Sir Piers be gatekeeper +till next Yule! No," added he, seeing what followed; +"it will be poor Toft, after all."</p> + +<p>Following close upon the coffin came a rude shell, containing, +as Peter rightly conjectured, the miserable remains of +Simon Toft, who had met his fate in the manner described by +Plant. The bolt of death glanced from the tree which it first +struck, and reduced the unfortunate farmer to a heap of +dust. Universal consternation prevailed, and doubts were entertained +as to what course should be pursued. It was judged best +by Dr. Small to remove the remains at once to the charnel-house. +Thus "unanointed, unaneled, with all his imperfections +on his head," was poor Simon Toft, in one brief second, in the +twinkling of an eye, plunged from the height of festivity to the +darkness of the grave, and so horribly disfigured, that scarce a +vestige of humanity was discernible in the mutilated mass that +remained of him. Truly may we be said to walk in blindness, +and amidst deep pitfalls.</p> + +<p>The churchyard was thronged by the mournful train. The +long array of dusky figures—the waving torchlight gleaming +ruddily in the white moonshine—now glistening upon the sombre +habiliments of the bearers, and on their shrouded load, now +reflected upon the jagged branches of the yew-trees, or falling +upon the ivied buttresses of the ancient church, constituted +no unimpressive picture. Over all, like a lamp hung in the +still sky, shone the moon, shedding a soothing, spiritual lustre +over the scene.</p> + +<p>The organ broke into a solemn strain as the coffin was borne +along the mid-aisle—the mourners following, with reverent +step, and slow. It was deposited near the mouth of the +vault, the whole assemblage circling around it. Dr. Small +proceeded with the performance of that magnificent service +appointed for the burial of the dead, in a tone as remarkable +for its sadness as for its force and fervor. There was a tear in +every eye—a cloud on every brow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> + +<p>Brightly illumined as was the whole building, there were still +some recesses which, owing to the intervention of heavy pillars, +were thrown into shade; and in one of these, supported by her +mother and brother, stood Eleanor, a weeping witness of the +scene. She beheld the coffin silently borne along; she saw one +dark figure slowly following; she knew those pale features—oh, +how pale they were! A year had wrought a fearful alteration; +she could scarce credit what she beheld. He must, +indeed, have suffered—deeply suffered; and her heart told her +that his sorrows had been for her.</p> + +<p>Many a wistful look, besides, was directed to the principal +figure in this ceremonial, Ranulph Rookwood. He was a prey +to unutterable anguish of soul; his heart bled inwardly for the +father he had lost. Mechanically following the body down the +aisle, he had taken his station near it, gazing with confused +vision upon the bystanders; had listened, with a sad composure, +to the expressive delivery of Small, until he read—"<i>For man +walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in vain; +he heapeth up riches, and cannot tell who shall gather +them.</i>"</p> + +<p>"Verily!" exclaimed a deep voice; and Ranulph, looking +round, met the eyes of Peter Bradley fixed full upon him. But +it was evidently not the sexton who had spoken.</p> + +<p>Small continued the service. He arrived at this verse: +"<i>Thou hast set our misdeeds before thee; and our secret sins +in the light of thy countenance.</i>"</p> + +<p>"Even so!" exclaimed the voice; and as Ranulph raised his +eyes in the direction of the sound, he thought he saw a dark +figure, muffled in a cloak, disappear behind one of the pillars. +He bestowed, however, at the moment, little thought upon +this incident. His heart melted within him; and leaning his +face upon his hand, he wept aloud.</p> + +<p>"Command yourself, I entreat of you, my dear Sir Ranulph," +said Dr. Small, as soon as the service was finished, +"and suffer this melancholy ceremonial to be completed."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +Saying which, he gently withdrew Ranulph from his support, +and the coffin was lowered into the vault.</p> + +<p>Ranulph remained for some time in the extremity of sorrow. +When he in part recovered, the crowd had dispersed, +and few persons were remaining within the church; yet near +him stood three apparent loiterers. They advanced towards +him. An exclamation of surprise and joy burst from his lips.</p> + +<p>"Eleanor!"</p> + +<p>"Ranulph!"</p> + +<p>"Is it possible? Do I indeed behold you, Eleanor?"</p> + +<p>No other word was spoken. They rushed into each other's +arms. Oh! sad—sad is the lover's parting—no pang so keen; +but if life hath a zest more exquisite than others—if felicity +hath one drop more racy than the rest in her honeyed cup, it +is the happiness enjoyed in such a union as the present. To +say that he was as one raised from the depths of misery by +some angel comforter, were a feeble comparison of the transport +of Ranulph. To paint the thrilling delight of Eleanor—the +trembling tenderness—the fond abandonment which vanquished +all her maiden scruples, would be impossible. Reluctantly +yielding—fearing, yet complying, her lips were sealed +in one long, loving kiss, the sanctifying pledge of their tried +affection.</p> + +<p>"Eleanor, dear Eleanor," exclaimed Ranulph, "though I +hold you within my arms—though each nerve within my frame +assures me of your presence—though I look into those eyes, +which seem fraught with greater endearment than ever I have +known them wear—though I see and feel and know all this, +so sudden, so unlooked for is the happiness, that I could +almost doubt its reality. Say to what blessed circumstance I +am indebted for this unlooked-for happiness."</p> + +<p>"We are staying not far hence, with friends, dear Ranulph; +and my mother, hearing of Sir Piers Rookwood's death, and +wishing to bury all animosity with him, resolved to be present +at the sad ceremony. We were told you could not be here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And would my presence have prevented your attendance, +Eleanor?"</p> + +<p>"Not that, dear Ranulph; but——"</p> + +<p>"But what?"</p> + +<p>At this moment the advance of Mrs. Mowbray offered an +interruption to their further discourse.</p> + +<p>"My son and I appear to be secondary in your regards, Sir +Ranulph," said she, gravely.</p> + +<p>"<i>Sir</i> Ranulph!" mentally echoed the young man. "What +will <i>she</i> think when she knows that that title is not mine? I +dread to tell her." He then added aloud, with a melancholy +smile, "I crave your pardon, madam; the delight of a meeting +so unexpected with your daughter must plead my apology."</p> + +<p>"None is wanting, Sir Ranulph," said Major Mowbray. "I +who have known what separation from my sister is, can readily +excuse your feelings. But you look ill."</p> + +<p>"I have, indeed, experienced much mental anxiety," said +Ranulph, looking at Eleanor; "it is now past, and I would +fain hope that a brighter day is dawning." His heart answered, +'twas but a hope.</p> + +<p>"You were unlooked for here to-night, Sir Ranulph," said +Mrs. Mowbray; "by us, at least: we were told you were +abroad."</p> + +<p>"You were rightly informed, madam," replied Ranulph. "I +only arrived this evening from Bordeaux."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you are returned. We are at present on a visit +with your neighbors, the Davenhams, at Braybrook, and trust +we shall see you there."</p> + +<p>"I will ride over to-morrow," replied Ranulph; "there is +much on which I would consult you all. I would have ventured +to request the favor of your company at Rookwood, had +the occasion been other than the present."</p> + +<p>"And I would willingly have accepted your invitation," returned +Mrs. Mowbray; "I should like to see the old house +once more. During your father's lifetime I could not approach<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +it. You are lord of broad lands, Sir Ranulph—a +goodly inheritance."</p> + +<p>"Madam!"</p> + +<p>"And a proud title, which you will grace well, I doubt not. +The first, the noblest of our house, was he from whom you +derive your name. You are the third Sir Ranulph; the first +founded the house of Rookwood; the next advanced it; 'tis +for you to raise its glory to its height."</p> + +<p>"Alas! madam, I have no such thought."</p> + +<p>"Wherefore not? you are young, wealthy, powerful. With +such domains as those of Rookwood—with such a title as its +lord can claim, naught should be too high for your aspirations."</p> + +<p>"I aspire to nothing, madam, but your daughter's hand; +and even that I will not venture to solicit until you are acquainted +with——" And he hesitated.</p> + +<p>"With what?" asked Mrs. Mowbray, in surprise.</p> + +<p>"A singular, and to me most perplexing event has occurred +to-night," replied Ranulph, "which may materially affect my +future fortunes."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray. "Does it relate to +your mother?"</p> + +<p>"Excuse my answering the question now, madam," replied +Ranulph; "you shall know all to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Ay, to-morrow, dear Ranulph," said Eleanor; "and whatever +that morrow may bring forth, it will bring happiness to +me, if you are bearer of the tidings."</p> + +<p>"I shall expect your coming with impatience," said Mrs. +Mowbray.</p> + +<p>"And I," added Major Mowbray, who had listened thus far +in silence, "would offer you my services in any way you think +they would be useful. Command me as you think fitting."</p> + +<p>"I thank you heartily," returned Ranulph. "To-morrow +you shall learn all. Meanwhile, it shall be my business to +investigate the truth or falsehood of the statement I have heard, +ere I report it to you. Till then, farewell."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> + +<p>As they issued from the church it was gray dawn. Mrs. +Mowbray's carriage stood at the door. The party entered it; +and accompanied by Dr. Small, whom he found within in +the vestry, Ranulph walked towards the hall, where a fresh +surprise awaited him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V2" id="CHAPTER_V2"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>THE CAPTIVE</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 26em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Black Will.</i> Which is the place where we're to be concealed?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Green.</i><span style="margin-left: 2em;">This inner room.</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Black Will.</i> 'Tis well. The word is, "Now I take you."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Arden of Feversham.</i></p></div> + + +<p>Guarded by the two young farmers who had displayed so +much address in seizing him, Luke, meanwhile, had been conveyed +in safety to the small chamber in the eastern wing, destined +by Mr. Coates to be his place of confinement for the +night. The room, or rather closet, opening from another room, +was extremely well adapted for the purpose, having no perceptible +outlet; being defended, on either side, by thick partition +walls of the hardest oak, and at the extremity by the solid +masonry of the mansion. It was, in fact, a remnant of the +building anterior to the first Sir Ranulph's day; and the narrow +limits of Luke's cell had been erected long before the date +of his earliest progenitor. Having seen their prisoner safely +bestowed, the room was carefully examined, every board +sounded, every crevice and corner peered into by the curious +eye of the little lawyer; and nothing being found insecure, the +light was removed, the door locked, the rustic constables dismissed, +and a brace of pistols having been loaded and laid on +the table, Mr. Coates pronounced himself thoroughly satisfied +and quite comfortable.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> + +<p>Comfortable! Titus heaved a sigh as he echoed the word. +He felt anything but comfortable. His heart was with the +body all the while. He thought of the splendor of the funeral, +the torches, the illumined church, his own dignified march +down the aisle, and the effect he expected to produce amongst +the bewildered rustics. He thought of all these things, and +cursed Luke by all the saints in the calendar. The sight of +the musty old apartment, hung round with faded arras, which, +as he said, "smelt of nothing but rats and ghosts, and suchlike +varmint," did not serve to inspirit him; and the proper equilibrium +of his temper was not completely restored until the +appearance of the butler, with all the requisites for the manufacture +of punch, afforded him some prospective solace.</p> + +<p>"And what are they about now, Tim?" asked Titus.</p> + +<p>"All as jolly as can be," answered the domestic; "Dr. +Small is just about to pronounce the funeral 'ration."</p> + +<p>"Devil take it," ejaculated Titus, "there's another miss! +Couldn't I just slip out, and hear that?"</p> + +<p>"On no account," said Coates. "Consider, Sir Ranulph +is there."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," rejoined Titus, heaving a deep sigh, and +squeezing a lemon; "are you sure this is <i>biling</i> water, Tim? +You know, I'm mighty particular."</p> + +<p>"Perfectly aware of it, sir."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Tim, do you recollect the way I used to brew for +poor Sir Piers, with a bunch of red currants at the bottom of +the glass? And then to think that, after all, I should be left +out of his funeral—it's the height of barbarity. Tim, this +rum of yours is poor stuff—there's no punch worth the trouble +of drinking, except whisky-punch. A glass of right potheen, +straw-color, peat-flavor, ten degrees over proof, would be the +only thing to drown my cares. Any such thing in the cellar? +There used to be an odd bottle or so, Tim—in the left bin, +near the door."</p> + +<p>"I've a notion there be," returned Timothy. "I'll try the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +bin your honor mentions, and if I can lay hands upon a bottle +you shall have it, you may depend."</p> + +<p>The butler departed, and Titus, emulating Mr. Coates, who +had already enveloped himself, like Juno at the approach of +Ixion, in a cloud, proceeded to light his pipe.</p> + +<p>Luke, meanwhile, had been left alone, without light. He +had much to meditate upon, and with naught to check the +current of his thoughts, he pensively revolved his present situation +and future prospects. The future was gloomy enough—the +present fraught with danger. And now that the fever of +excitement was passed, he severely reproached himself for his +precipitancy.</p> + +<p>His mind, by degrees, assumed a more tranquil state; and, +exhausted with his great previous fatigue, he threw himself +upon the floor of his prison-house, and addressed himself to +slumber. The noise he made induced Coates to enter the +room, which he did with a pistol in each hand, followed by +Titus with a pipe and candle; but finding all safe the sentinels +retired.</p> + +<p>"One may see, with half an eye, that you're not used to a +feather-bed, my friend," said Titus, as the door was locked. +"By the powers, he's a tall chap, anyhow—why his feet +almost touch the door. I should say that room was a matter +of six feet long, Mr. Coates."</p> + +<p>"Exactly six feet, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's a good guess. Hang that ugly rascal, Tim; +he's never brought the whisky. But I'll be even with him to-morrow. +Couldn't you just see to the prisoner for ten minutes, +Mr. Coates?"</p> + +<p>"Not ten seconds. I shall report you, if you stir from your +post."</p> + +<p>Here the door was opened, and Tim entered with the +whisky.</p> + +<p>"Arrah! by my soul, Tim, and here you are at last—uncork +it, man, and give us a thimbleful—blob! there goes the stopper—here's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +a glass"—smacking his lips—"whist, Tim, another +drop—stuff like this will never hurt a body. Mr. Coates, try +it—no—I thought you'd be a man of more taste."</p> + +<p>"I must limit you to a certain quantity," replied Coates, +"or you will not be fit to keep guard—another glass must be +the extent of your allowance."</p> + +<p>"Another glass! and do you think I'll submit to any such +iniquitous proposition?"</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon, gentlemen," said Tim, "but her ladyship +desires me to tell you both, that she trusts you will keep the +strictest watch upon the prisoner. I have the same message +also from Sir Ranulph."</p> + +<p>"Do you hear that?" said Coates.</p> + +<p>"And what are they all about now, Tim?" groaned Titus.</p> + +<p>"Just starting, sir," returned Tim; "and, indeed, I must +not lose my time gossiping here, for I be wanted below. You +must be pleased to take care of yourselves, gentlemen, for an +hour or so, for there will be only a few women-kind left in the +house. The storm's just over, and the men are all lighting +their torches. Oh, it's a grand sight!" And off set +Tim.</p> + +<p>"Bad luck to myself, anyhow," ejaculated Titus; "this is +more than I can bear—I've had enough of this watch and ward +business—if the prisoner stirs, shoot him, if you think proper—I'll +be back in an hour."</p> + +<p>"I tell you what, Mr. Tyrconnel," said Coates, coolly taking +up the pistol from the table, "I'm a man of few words, but +those few are, I hope, to the purpose, and I'd have you to +know if you stir from that chair, or attempt to leave the room, +damme but I'll send a brace of bullets after you. I'm serious, +I assure you." And he cocked the pistol.</p> + +<p>By way of reply to this menace, Titus deliberately filled a +stiff glass of whisky-and-water.</p> + +<p>"That's your last glass," said the inexorable Coates.</p> + +<p>To return once more to Luke. He slept uneasily for some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +short space, and was awakened by a sound which reached his +dreaming ears and connected itself with the visions that +slumber was weaving around him. It was some moments +before he could distinctly remember where he was. He would +not venture to sleep again, though he felt overwhelmed by +drowsiness—there was a fixed pain at his heart, as if circulation +were suspended. Changing his posture, he raised himself +upon one arm; he then became aware of a scratching +noise, somewhat similar to the sound he had heard in his +dream, and perceived a light gleaming through a crevice in the +oaken partition. His attention was immediately arrested, and +placing his eye close to the chink, he distinctly saw a dark lantern +burning, and by its light a man filing some implement of housebreaking. +The light fell before the hard features of the man, +with whose countenance Luke was familiar; and although only +one person came within the scope of his view, Luke could +make out, from a muttered conversation that was carried on, +that he had a companion. The parties were near to him, and +though speaking in a low tone, Luke's quick ear caught the +following:</p> + +<p>"What keeps Jack Palmer, I wonder?" said he of the file. +"We're all ready for the fakement—pops primed—and I tell +you what, Rob Rust, I've made my clasp-knife as sharp as a +razor, and damme, if Lady Rookwood offers any resistance, I'll +spoil her talking in future, I promise you."</p> + +<p>Suppressed laughter from Rust followed this speech. That +laugh made Luke's blood run cold within his veins.</p> + +<p>"Harkee, Dick Wilder, you're a reg'lar out-and-outer, and +stops at nothing, and curse me if I'd think any more of it than +yourself. But Jack's as squeamish of bloodshed as young Miss +that cries at her cut finger. It's the safer plan. Say what you +will, nothing but <i>that</i> will stop a woman's tongue."</p> + +<p>"I shall make short work with her ladyship to-night, anyhow. +Hist! here Jack comes."</p> + +<p>A footstep crossed in the room, and, presently afterwards,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +exclamations of surprise and smothered laughter were heard +from the parties.</p> + +<p>"Bravo, Jack! famous! that disguise would deceive the +devil himself."</p> + +<p>"And now, my lads," said the newcomer, "is all right?"</p> + +<p>"Right and tight."</p> + +<p>"Nothing forgotten?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"Then off with your stamps, and on with your list slippers; +not a word. Follow me, and, for your lives, don't move a step +but as I direct you. The word must be, '<i>Sir Piers Rookwood +calls</i>.' We'll overhaul the swag here. This crack may make +us all for life; and if you'll follow my directions implicitly, +we'll do the trick in style. This slum must be our rendezvous +when all's over; for hark ye, my lads, I'll not budge an inch +till Luke Bradley be set free. He's an old friend, and I always +stick by old friends. I'd do the same for one of you if you +were in the same scrape, so, damn you, no flinching; besides, +I owe that spider-shanked, snivelling split-cause Coates, who +stands sentry, a grudge, and I'll pay him off, as Paul did the +Ephesians. You may crop his ears, or slit his tongue as you +would a magpie's, or any other chattering varmint; make him +sign his own testament, or treat him with a touch of your +<i>Habeas Corpus</i> Act, if you think proper, or give him a taste of +blue plumb. One thing only I stipulate, that you don't hurt +that fat, mutton-headed Broganeer, whatever he may say or do; +he's a devilish good fellow. And now to business."</p> + +<p>Saying which, they noiselessly departed. But carefully as +the door was closed, Luke's ear could detect the sound. His +blood boiled with indignation; and he experienced what all +must have felt who have been similarly situated, with the will, +but not the power, to assist another—a sensation almost +approaching to torture. At this moment a distant scream +burst upon his ears—another—he hesitated no longer. With +all his force he thundered at the door.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What do you want, rascal?" cried Coates, from without.</p> + +<p>"There are robbers in the house."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for the information. There is one I know of +already."</p> + +<p>"Fool, they are in Lady Rookwood's room. Run to her +assistance."</p> + +<p>"A likely story, and leave you here."</p> + +<p>"Do you hear that scream?"</p> + +<p>"Eh, what—what's that? I do hear something." +Here Luke dashed with all his force against the door. It +yielded to the blow, and he stood before the astonished attorney.</p> + +<p>"Advance a footstep, villain," exclaimed Coates, presenting +both his pistols, "and I lodge a brace of balls in your head."</p> + +<p>"Listen to me," said Luke; "the robbers are in Lady Rookwood's +chamber—they will plunder the place of everything—perhaps +murder her. Fly to her assistance, I will accompany +you—assist you—it is your only chance."</p> + +<p>"<i>My</i> only chance—<i>your</i> only chance. Do you take me for +a greenhorn? This is a poor subterfuge; could you not have +vamped up something better? Get back to your own room, +or I shall make no more of shooting you than I would of +snuffing that candle."</p> + +<p>"Be advised, sir," continued Luke. "There are three of +them—give me a pistol, and fear nothing."</p> + +<p>"Give <i>you</i> a pistol! Ha, ha!—to be its mark myself. +You are an amusing rascal, I will say."</p> + +<p>"Sir, I tell you not a moment is to be lost. Is life nothing? +Lady Rookwood may be murdered."</p> + +<p>"I tell <i>you</i>, once for all, it won't do. Go back to your +room, or take the consequences."</p> + +<p>"By the powers! but it shall do, anyhow," exclaimed Titus, +flinging himself upon the attorney, and holding both his arms; +"you've bullied me long enough. I'm sure the lad's in the +right."</p> + +<p>Luke snatched the pistols from the hands of Coates.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Very well, Mr. Tyrconnel; very well, sir," cried the +attorney, boiling with wrath, and spluttering out his words. +"Extremely well, sir. You are not perhaps aware, sir, what +you have done; but you will repent this, sir—repent, I say—repent +was my word, Mr. Tyrconnel."</p> + +<p>"Poh!—poh!" replied Titus. "I shall never repent a +good-natured action."</p> + +<p>"Follow me," cried Luke; "settle your disputes hereafter. +Quick, or we shall be too late."</p> + +<p>Coates bustled after him, and Titus, putting the neck of the +forbidden whisky bottle to his lips, and gulping down a hasty +mouthful, snatched up a rusty poker, and followed the party +with more alacrity than might have been expected from so +portly a personage.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI2" id="CHAPTER_VI2"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>THE APPARITION</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Gibbet.</i> Well, gentlemen, 'tis a fine night for our enterprise.</p> + +<p><i>Hounslow.</i> Dark as hell.</p> + +<p><i>Bagshot.</i> And blows like the devil.</p> + +<p><i>Boniface.</i> You'll have no creature to deal with but the ladies.</p> + +<p><i>Gibbet.</i> And I can assure you, friend, there's a great deal of address, +and good manners, in robbing a lady. I am the most of a gentleman, +that way, that ever travelled the road.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Beaux Stratagem.</i></p></div> + + +<p>Accompanied by her son, Lady Rookwood, on quitting the +chamber of the dead, returned to her own room. She then +renewed all her arguments; had recourse to passionate supplications—to +violent threats, but without effect. Ranulph maintained +profound silence. Passion, as it ever doth, defeated its +own ends; and Lady Rookwood, seeing the ill effect her anger +would probably produce, gradually softened the asperity of her +manner, and suffered him to depart.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> + +<p>Left to herself, and to the communings of her own troubled +spirit, her fortitude, in a measure, forsook her, under the +pressure of the difficulties by which she was environed. There +was no plan she could devise—no scheme adopt, unattended +with peril. She must act alone—with promptitude and secrecy. +To win her son over was her chief desire, and that, at all +hazards, she was resolved to do. But how? She knew of only +one point on which he was vulnerable—his love for Eleanor +Mowbray. By raising doubts in his mind, and placing fresh +difficulties in his path, she might compel him to acquiesce in her +machinations, as a necessary means of accomplishing his own +object. This she hoped to effect. Still there was a depth of +resolution in the placid stream of Ranulph's character which +she had often noticed with apprehension. Aware of his firmness, +she dreaded lest his sense of justice should be stronger +than his passion.</p> + +<p>As she wove these webs of darkness, fear, hitherto unknown, +took possession of her soul. She listened to the howling of +the wind—to the vibration of the rafters—to the thunder's +roar, and to the hissing rain—till she, who never trembled at +the thought of danger, became filled with vague uneasiness. +Lights were ordered; and when her old attendant returned. +Lady Rookwood fixed a look so wistful upon her, that Agnes +ventured to address her.</p> + +<p>"Bless you, my lady," said the ancient handmaiden, trembling, +"you look very pale, and no wonder. I feel sick at heart, +too. Oh! I shall be glad when they return from the church, +and happier still when the morning dawns. I can't sleep a +wink—can't close my eyes, but I think of him."</p> + +<p>"Of <i>him</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Of Sir Piers, my lady; for though he's dead, I don't think +he's gone."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"Why, my lady, the corruptible part of him's gone, sure +enough. But the incorruptible, as Dr. Small calls it—the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +sperrit, my lady. It might be my fancy, your ladyship; but +as I'm standing here, when I went back into the room just +now for the lights, as I hope to live, I thought I saw Sir Piers +in the room."</p> + +<p>"You are crazed, Agnes."</p> + +<p>"No, my lady, I'm not crazed; it was mere fancy, no doubt. +Oh, it's a blessed thing to live with an easy conscience—a +thrice blessed thing to <i>die</i> with an easy one, and that's what I +never shall, I'm afeard. Poor Sir Piers! I'd mumble a prayer +for him, if I durst."</p> + +<p>"Leave me," said Lady Rookwood, impatiently.</p> + +<p>And Agnes quitted the room.</p> + +<p>"What if the dead can return?" thought Lady Rookwood. +"All men doubt it, yet all men believe it. <i>I</i> would not believe +it, were there not a creeping horror that overmasters me, when +I think of the state beyond the grave—that intermediate state, +for such it must be, when the body lieth mouldering in the +ground, and the soul survives, to wander, unconfined, until the +hour of doom. And doth the soul survive when disenthralled? +Is it dependent on the body? Does it perish with the body? +These are doubts I cannot resolve. But if I deemed there +was no future state, this hand should at once liberate me from +my own weaknesses—my fears—my life. There is but one +path to acquire that knowledge, which, once taken, can never +be retraced. I am content to live—while living, to be feared—it +may be, hated; when dead, to be contemned—yet still remembered. +Ha! what sound was that? A stifled scream! +Agnes!—without there! She is full of fears. I am not free +from them myself, but I will shake them off. This will divert +their channel," continued she, drawing from her bosom the +marriage certificate. "This will arouse the torpid current of +my blood—'<i>Piers Rookwood to Susan Bradley</i>.' And by +whom was it solemnized? The name is Checkley—Richard +Checkley. Ha! I bethink me—a Papist priest—a recusant—who +was for some time an inmate of the hall. I have heard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +of this man—he was afterwards imprisoned, but escaped—he +is either dead or in a foreign land. No witnesses—'tis well! +Methinks Sir Piers Rookwood did well to preserve this. It +shall light his funeral pyre. Would he could now behold me, +as I consume it!"</p> + +<p>She held the paper in the direction of the candle; but, ere +it could touch the flame, it dropped from her hand. As if her +horrible wish had been granted, before her stood the figure +of her husband! Lady Rookwood started not. No sign of +trepidation or alarm, save the sudden stiffening of her form, +was betrayed. Her bosom ceased to palpitate—her respiration +stopped—her eyes were fixed upon the apparition.</p> + +<p>The figure appeared to regard her sternly. It was at some +little distance, within the shade cast by the lofty bedstead. +Still she could distinctly discern it. There was no ocular +deception; it was attired in the costume Sir Piers was wont to +wear—a hunting dress. All that her son had told her rushed +to her recollection. The phantom advanced. Its countenance +was pale, and wore a gloomy frown.</p> + +<p>"What would you destroy?" demanded the apparition, in +a hollow tone.</p> + +<p>"The evidence of——"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Your marriage."</p> + +<p>"With yourself, accursed woman?"</p> + +<p>"With Susan Bradley."</p> + +<p>"What's that I hear?" shouted the figure, in an altered +tone. "Married to her! then Luke <i>is</i> legitimate, and heir to +this estate!" Whereupon the apparition rushed to the table, +and laid a very substantial grasp upon the document. "A +marriage certificate!" ejaculated the spectre; "here's a piece +of luck! It ain't often in our lottery life we draw a prize like +this. One way or the other, it must turn up a few cool thousands."</p> + +<p>"Restore that paper, villain," exclaimed Lady Rookwood,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +recovering all the audacity natural to her character the instant +she discovered the earthly nature of the intruder—"restore it, +or, by Heaven, you shall rue your temerity."</p> + +<p>"Softly, softly," replied the pseudo-phantom, with one hand +pushing back the lady, while the other conveyed the precious +document to the custody of his nether man—"softly," said he, +giving the buckskin pocket a slap—"two words to that, my +lady. I know its value as well as yourself, and must make my +market. The highest offer has me, your ladyship; he's but +a poor auctioneer that knocks down his ware when only one +bidder is present. Luke Bradley, or, as I find he now is, Sir +Luke Rookwood, may come down more handsomely."</p> + +<p>"Who are you, ruffian, and to what end is this masquerade +assumed? If for the purpose of terrifying me into compliance +with the schemes of that madman, Luke Bradley, whom I presume +to be your confederate, your labor is misspent—your +stolen disguise has no more weight with me than his forged +claims."</p> + +<p>"Forged claims! Egad, he must be a clever hand to have +forged that certificate. Your ladyship, however, is in error. +Sir Luke Rookwood is no associate of mine; I am his late +father's friend. But I have no time to bandy talk. What +money have you in the house? Be alive."</p> + +<p>"You <i>are</i> a robber, then?"</p> + +<p>"Not I. I'm a tax-gatherer—a collector of Rich-Rates—ha, +ha! What plate have you got? Nay, don't be alarmed—take +it quietly—these things can't be helped—better make +up your mind to do it without more ado—much the best plan—no +screaming, it may injure your lungs, and can alarm nobody. +Your maids have done as much before—it's beneath +your dignity to make so much noise. So, you will not heed +me? As you will." Saying which, he deliberately cut the +bell-cord, and drew out a brace of pistols at the same time.</p> + +<p>"Agnes!" shrieked Lady Rookwood, now seriously alarmed.</p> + +<p>"I must caution your ladyship to be silent," said the robber,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +who, as our readers will no doubt have already conjectured, +was no other than the redoubted Jack Palmer. "Agnes +is already disposed of," said he, cocking a pistol. "However +like your deceased 'lord and master' I may appear, you will +find you have got a very different spirit from that of Sir Piers +to deal with. I am naturally the politest man breathing—have +been accounted the best-bred man on the road by every lady +whom I have had the honor of addressing; and I should be +sorry to sully my well-earned reputation by anything like rudeness. +I must use a little force, of the gentlest kind. Perhaps +you will permit me to hand you to a chair. Bless me! what +a wrist your ladyship has got. Excuse me if I hurt you, but +you are so devilish strong. What ho! 'Sir Piers Rookwood +calls—'"</p> + +<p>"Ready," cried a voice.</p> + +<p>"That's the word," rejoined another; "ready;" and immediately +two men, their features entirely hidden by a shroud of +black crape, accoutred in rough attire, and each armed with +pistols, rushed into the room.</p> + +<p>"Lend a hand," said Jack.</p> + +<p>Even in this perilous extremity Lady Rookwood's courage +did not desert her. Anticipating their purpose, ere her assailants +could reach her she extricated herself from Palmer's grasp, +and rushed upon the foremost so unexpectedly, that, before the +man could seize her, she snatched a pistol from his hand, and +presented it at the group with an aspect like that of a tigress +at bay—her eye wandering from one to the other, as if selecting +a mark.</p> + +<p>There was a pause of a few seconds, in which the men +glanced at the lady, and then at their leader. Jack looked +blank.</p> + +<p>"Hem!" said he, coolly; "this is something new—disarmed—defied +by a petticoat. Hark ye, Rob Rust, the disgrace +rests with you. Clear your character, by securing her at once. +What! afraid of a woman?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A woman!" repeated Rust, in a surly tone; "devilish like +a woman, indeed. Few men could do what she has done. +Give the word, and I fire. As to seizing her, that's more than +I'll engage to do."</p> + +<p>"You are a coward," cried Jack. "I will steer clear of +blood—if I can help it. Come, madam, surrender, like the +more sensible part of your sex, at discretion. You will find +resistance of no avail." And he stepped boldly towards her.</p> + +<p>Lady Rookwood pulled the trigger. The pistol flashed in +the pan. She flung away the useless weapon without a +word.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha!" said Jack, as he leisurely stooped to pick up the +pistol, and approached her ladyship; "the bullet is not yet +cast that is to be my billet. Here," said he, dealing Rust a +heavy thump upon the shoulder with the butt-end of the piece, +"take back your snapper, and look you prick the touchhole, +or your barking-iron will never bite for you. And now, madam, +I must take the liberty of again handing you to a seat. Dick +Wilder, the cord—quick. It distresses me to proceed to such +lengths with your ladyship—but safe bind, safe find, as Mr. +Coates would say."</p> + +<p>"You will not bind me, ruffian."</p> + +<p>"Your ladyship is very much mistaken—I have no alternative—your +ladyship's wrist is far too dexterous to be at liberty. +I must furthermore request of your ladyship to be less vociferous—you +interrupt business, which should be transacted with +silence and deliberation."</p> + +<p>Lady Rookwood's rage and vexation at this indignity were +beyond all bounds. Resistance, however, was useless, and she +submitted in silence. The cord was passed tightly round her +arms, when it flashed upon her recollection for the first time +that Coates and Tyrconnel, who were in charge of her captive +in the lower corridor, might be summoned to her assistance. +This idea no sooner crossed her mind than she uttered a loud +and prolonged scream.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Sdeath!" cried Jack; "civility is wasted here. Give me +the gag, Rob."</p> + +<p>"Better slit her squeaking-pipe at once," replied Rust, +drawing his clasped knife; "she'll thwart everything."</p> + +<p>"The gag, I say, not <i>that</i>."</p> + +<p>"I can't find the gag," exclaimed Wilder, savagely. +"Leave Rob Rust to manage her—he'll silence her, I warrant +you, while you and I rummage the room."</p> + +<p>"Ay, leave her to me," said the other miscreant. "Go +about your business, and take no heed. Her hands are fast—she +can't scratch. I'll do it with a single gash—send her to +join her lord, whom she loved so well, before he's under ground. +They'll have something to see when they come home from the +master's funeral—their mistress <i>cut and dry</i> for another. Ho, +ho!"</p> + +<p>"Mercy, mercy!" shrieked Lady Rookwood.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, I'll be merciful," said Rust, brandishing his knife +before her eyes. "I'll not be long about it. Leave her to +me—I'll give her a taste of Sir Sydney."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Rust; no bloodshed," said Jack, authoritatively; +"I'll find some other way to gag the jade."</p> + +<p>At this moment a noise of rapid footsteps was heard within +the passage.</p> + +<p>"Assistance comes," screamed Lady Rookwood. "Help! +help!"</p> + +<p>"To the door!" cried Jack. The words were scarcely out +of his mouth before Luke dashed into the room, followed by +Coates and Tyrconnel.</p> + +<p>Palmer and his companions levelled their pistols at the intruders, +and the latter would have fired, but Jack's keen eye +having discerned Luke amongst the foremost, checked further +hostilities for the present. Lady Rookwood, meanwhile, finding +herself free from restraint, rushed towards her deliverers, +and crouched beneath Luke's protecting arms, which were extended, +pistol in hand, over her head. Behind them stood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +Titus Tyrconnel, flourishing the poker, and Mr. Coates, who, +upon the sight of so much warlike preparation, began somewhat +to repent having rushed so precipitately into the lion's +den.</p> + +<p>"Luke Bradley!" exclaimed Palmer, stepping forward.</p> + +<p>"Luke Bradley!" echoed Lady Rookwood, recoiling and +staring into his face.</p> + +<p>"Fear nothing, madam," cried Luke. "I am here to assist +you—I will defend you with my life."</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> defend <i>me</i>!" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Even <i>I</i>," cried Luke, "strange as it may sound."</p> + +<p>"Holy powers protect me!" ejaculated Titus. "As I live, +it is Sir Piers himself."</p> + +<p>"Sir Piers!" echoed Coates, catching the infection of terror, +as he perceived Palmer more distinctly. "What! is the dead +come to life again? A ghost, a ghost!"</p> + +<p>"By my soul," cried Titus, "it's the first ghost I ever heard +of that committed a burglary in its own house, and on the +night of the body's burial, too. But who the devil are these? +maybe they're ghosts likewise."</p> + +<p>"They are," said Palmer, in a hollow tone, mimicking the +voice of Sir Piers, "attendant spirits. We are come for this +woman; her time is out; so no more palavering, Titus. Lend +a hand to take her to the churchyard, and be hanged to +you."</p> + +<p>"Upon my conscience, Mr. Coates," cried Titus, "it's either +the devil, or Sir Piers. We'll be only in the way here. He's +only just settling his old scores with his lady. I thought it +would come to this long ago. We'd best beat a retreat."</p> + +<p>Jack took advantage of the momentary confusion created by +this incidental alarm at his disguise to direct Rust towards the +door by which the new comers had entered; and, this being +accomplished, he burst into a loud laugh.</p> + +<p>"What! not know me?" cried he—"not know your old +friend with a new face, Luke? Nor you, Titus? Nor you,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +who can see through a millstone, lawyer Coates, don't you recognize——"</p> + +<p>"Jack Palmer, as I'm a sinner!" cried Titus. "Why, this +beats Banaghan. Arrah! Jack, honey, what does this mean? +Is it yourself I see in such company? You're not robbing in +earnest?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed but I am, friend Titus," exclaimed Jack; "and <i>it +is</i> my own self you see. I just took the liberty of borrowing +Sir Piers's old hunting-coat from the justice-room. You said +my toggery wouldn't do for the funeral. I'm no other than +plain Jack Palmer, after all."</p> + +<p>"With half a dozen aliases at your back, I dare say," cried +Coates. "<i>I</i> suspected you all along. All your praise of highwaymen +was not lost upon me. No, no; I <i>can</i> see into a +millstone, be it ever so thick."</p> + +<p>"Well," replied Jack, "I'm sorry to see you here, friend +Titus. Keep quiet, and you shall come to no harm. As to +you, Luke Bradley, you have anticipated my intention by half +an hour; I meant to set you free. For you, Mr. Coates, you +may commit all future care of your affairs to your executors, +administrators, and assigns. You will have no further need to +trouble yourself with worldly concerns," added he, levelling a +pistol at the attorney, who, however, shielded himself, in an +agony of apprehension, behind Luke's person. "Stand aside, +Luke."</p> + +<p>"I stir not," replied Luke. "I thank you for your good +intention, and will not injure you—that is, if you do not force +me to do so. I am here to defend her ladyship."</p> + +<p>"What's that you say?" returned Jack, in surprise—"<i>defend</i> +her ladyship?"</p> + +<p>"With my life," replied Luke. "Let me counsel you to depart."</p> + +<p>"Are you mad? Defend her—Lady Rookwood—your +enemy—who would hang you? Tut, tut! Stand aside, I say, +Luke Bradley, or look to yourself."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You had better consider well ere you proceed," said Luke. +"You know me of old. I have taken odds as great, and +not come off the vanquished."</p> + +<p>"The odds are even," cried Titus, "if Mr. Coates will but +show fight. I'll stand by you to the last, my dear boy. You're +the right son of your father, though on the wrong side. Och! +Jack Palmer, my jewel, no wonder you resemble Dick Turpin."</p> + +<p>"You hear this?" cried Luke.</p> + +<p>"Hot-headed fool!" muttered Jack.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you shoot him on the spot?" said Wilder.</p> + +<p>"And mar my own chance," thought Jack. "No, that will +never do; his life is not to be thrown away. Be quiet," said +he, in a whisper to Wilder; "I've another card to play, which +shall serve us better than all the plunder here. No harm must +come to that youngster; his life is worth thousands to us." +Then, turning to Luke, he continued, "I'm loth to hurt you; +yet what can I do? You must have the worst of it if we come +to a pitched battle. I therefore advise you, as a friend, to +draw off your forces. We are three to three, it is true; but +two of <i>your</i> party are unarmed."</p> + +<p>"Unarmed!" interrupted Titus. "Devil burn me! this +iron shillelah shall convince you to the contrary, Jack, or any +of your friends."</p> + +<p>"Make ready then, my lads," cried Palmer.</p> + +<p>"Stop a minute," exclaimed Coates. "This gets serious; it +will end in homicide—in murder. We shall all have our +throats cut to a certainty; and though these rascals will as +certainly be hanged for it, that will be poor satisfaction to the +sufferers. Had we not better refer the matter to arbitration?"</p> + +<p>"I'm for fighting it out," said Titus, whisking the poker +round his head like a flail in action. "My blood's up. Come +on, Jack Palmer, I'm for you."</p> + +<p>"I should vote for retreating," chattered the attorney, "if +that cursed fellow had not placed a <i>ne exeat</i> at the door."</p> + +<p>"Give the word, captain," cried Rust, impatiently.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ay, ay," echoed Wilder.</p> + +<p>"A skilful general always parleys," said Jack. "A word in +your ear, Luke, ere that be done which cannot be undone."</p> + +<p>"You mean me no treachery?" returned Luke.</p> + +<p>Jack made no answer, but uncocking his pistols, deposited +them within his pockets.</p> + +<p>"Shoot him as he advances," whispered Coates; "he is in +your power now."</p> + +<p>"Scoundrel!" replied Luke, "do you think me as base as +yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush! for God's sake don't expose me," said +Coates.</p> + +<p>Lady Rookwood had apparently listened to this singular +conference with sullen composure, though in reality she was +racked with anxiety as to its results; and, now apprehending +that Palmer was about to make an immediate disclosure to +Luke, she accosted him as he passed her.</p> + +<p>"Unbind me!" cried she, "and what you wish shall be +yours—money—jewels——"</p> + +<p>"Ha! may I depend?"</p> + +<p>"I pledge my word."</p> + +<p>Palmer untied the cord, and Lady Rookwood, approaching +a table whereon stood the escritoire, touched a spring, and a +secret drawer flew open.</p> + +<p>"You do this of your own free will?" asked Luke. "Speak, +if it be otherwise."</p> + +<p>"I do," returned the lady, hastily.</p> + +<p>Palmer's eyes glistened at the treasures exposed to his +view.</p> + +<p>"They are jewels of countless price. Take them, and rid +me," she added in a whisper, "of <i>him</i>."</p> + +<p>"Luke Bradley?"</p> + +<p>"Ay."</p> + +<p>"Give them to me."</p> + +<p>"They are yours freely on those terms."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You hear that, Luke," cried he, aloud; "you hear it, Titus; +this is no robbery. Mr. Coates—'Know all men by these +<i>presents</i>'—I call you to witness, Lady Rookwood gives me +these pretty things."</p> + +<p>"I do," returned she; adding, in a whisper, "on the terms +which I proposed."</p> + +<p>"Must it be done at once?"</p> + +<p>"Without an instant's delay."</p> + +<p>"Before your own eyes?"</p> + +<p>"I fear not to look on. Each moment is precious. He is +off his guard now. You do it, you know, in self-defence."</p> + +<p>"And you?"</p> + +<p>"For the same cause."</p> + +<p>"Yet he came here to aid you?"</p> + +<p>"What of that?"</p> + +<p>"He would have risked his life for yours?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot pay back the obligation. He must die!"</p> + +<p>"The document?"</p> + +<p>"Will be useless then."</p> + +<p>"Will not that suffice; why aim at life?"</p> + +<p>"You trifle with me. You fear to do it."</p> + +<p>"<i>Fear!</i>"</p> + +<p>"About it, then; you shall have more gold."</p> + +<p>"I will about it," cried Jack, throwing the casket to Wilder, +and seizing Lady Rookwood's hands. "I am no Italian bravo, +madam—no assassin—no remorseless cut-throat. What are +you—devil or woman—who ask me to do this? Luke Bradley, +I say."</p> + +<p>"Would you betray me?" cried Lady Rookwood.</p> + +<p>"You have betrayed yourself, madam. Nay, nay, Luke, +hands off. See, Lady Rookwood, how you would treat a friend. +This strange fellow would blow out my brains for laying a finger +upon your ladyship."</p> + +<p>"I will suffer no injury to be done to her," said Luke; +"release her."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Your ladyship hears him," said Jack. "And you, Luke, +shall learn the value set upon your generosity. You will not +have <i>her</i> injured. This instant she has proposed, nay, paid +for <i>your</i> assassination."</p> + +<p>"How?" exclaimed Luke, recoiling.</p> + +<p>"A lie, as black as hell," cried Lady Rookwood.</p> + +<p>"A truth, as clear as heaven," retained Jack. "I will +speedily convince you of the fact." Then, turning to Lady +Rookwood, he whispered, "Shall I give him the marriage +document?"</p> + +<p>"Beware!" said Lady Rookwood.</p> + +<p>"Do I avouch the truth, then?"</p> + +<p>She was silent.</p> + +<p>"I am answered," said Luke.</p> + +<p>"Then leave her to her fate," cried Jack.</p> + +<p>"No," replied Luke; "she is still a woman, and I will not +abandon her to ruffianly violence. Set her free."</p> + +<p>"You are a fool," said Jack.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah, hurrah!" vociferated Coates, who had rushed to +the window. "Rescue, rescue! they are returning from the +church; I see the torchlight in the avenue; we are saved!"</p> + +<p>"Hell and the devil!" cried Jack; "not an instant is to be +lost. Alive, lads; bring off all the plunder you can; be +handy!"</p> + +<p>"Lady Rookwood, I bid you farewell," said Luke, in a tone in +which scorn and sorrow were blended. "We shall meet again."</p> + +<p>"We have not parted yet," returned she; "will you let this +man pass? A thousand pounds for his life."</p> + +<p>"Upon the nail?" asked Rust.</p> + +<p>"By the living God, if any of you attempt to touch him, I +will blow his brains out upon the spot, be he friend or foe," +cried Jack. "Luke Bradley, <i>we</i> shall meet again. You shall +hear from me."</p> + +<p>"Lady Rookwood," said Luke, as he departed, "I shall not +forget this night."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is all ready?" asked Palmer of his comrades.</p> + +<p>"All."</p> + +<p>"Then budge."</p> + +<p>"Stay!" cried Lady Rookwood, in a whisper to him. +"What will purchase that document?"</p> + +<p>"Hem!"</p> + +<p>"A thousand pounds?"</p> + +<p>"Double it."</p> + +<p>"It <i>shall</i> be doubled."</p> + +<p>"I will turn it over."</p> + +<p>"Resolve me now."</p> + +<p>"You shall hear from me."</p> + +<p>"In what manner?"</p> + +<p>"I will find speedy means."</p> + +<p>"Your name is Palmer?"</p> + +<p>"Palmer is the name he goes by, your ladyship," replied +Coates, "but it is the fashion with these rascals to have an +alias."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha!" said Jack, thrusting the ramrod into his pistol-barrel, +"are you there, Mr. Coates? Pay your wager, sir."</p> + +<p>"What wager?"</p> + +<p>"The hundred we bet that you would take me if ever you +had the chance."</p> + +<p>"Take <i>you</i>!—it was Dick Turpin I betted to take."</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> am <span class="smcap">Dick Turpin</span>—that's my alias!" replied Jack.</p> + +<p>"Dick Turpin! then I'll have a snap at you at all hazards," +cried Coates, springing suddenly towards him.</p> + +<p>"And I at you," said Turpin, discharging his pistol right in +the face of the rash attorney; "there's a quittance in full."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BOOK_III" id="BOOK_III"></a>BOOK III</h2> + + +<h3>THE GIPSY</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 15em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lay a garland on my hearse<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the dismal yew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maidens, willow branches bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Say I died true.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My love was false, but I was firm<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From my hour of birth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon my buried body lie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lightly, gentle earth.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Beaumont and Fletcher.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I3" id="CHAPTER_I3"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>A MORNING RIDE</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">I had a sister, who among the race<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of gipsies was the fairest. Fair she was<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In gentle blood, and gesture to her beauty.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Brome.</span></p></div> + + +<p>On quitting Lady Rookwood's chamber, Luke speeded +along the gloomy corridor, descended the spiral stairs, and, +swiftly traversing sundry other dark passages, issued from a +door at the back of the house. Day was just beginning to +break. His first object had been to furnish himself with means +to expedite his flight; and, perceiving no one in the yard, he +directed his hasty steps towards the stable. The door was +fortunately unfastened; and, entering, he found a strong roan +horse, which he knew, from description, had been his father's +favorite hunter, and to the use of which he now considered +himself fully entitled. The animal roused himself as he +approached, shook his glossy coat, and neighed, as if he recognized +the footsteps and voice.</p> + +<p>"Thou art mistaken, old fellow," said Luke; "I am not he +thou thinkest; nevertheless, I am glad thy instinct would have +it so. If thou bearest my father's son as thou hast borne thy +old master, o'er many a field for many a day, he need not fear +the best mounted of his pursuers. Soho! come hither, Rook."</p> + +<p>The noble steed turned at the call. Luke hastily saddled +him, vaulted upon his back, and, disregarding every impediment +in the shape of fence or ditch, shaped his course across +the field towards the sexton's cottage, which he reached just +as its owner was in the act of unlocking his door. Peter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +testified his delight and surprise at the escape of his grandson, +by a greeting of chuckling laughter.</p> + +<p>"How?—escaped!" exclaimed he. "Who has delivered +you from the hands of the Moabites? Ha, ha! But why do +I ask? Who could it have been but Jack Palmer?"</p> + +<p>"My own hands have set me free," returned Luke. "I am +indebted to no man for liberty; still less to <i>him</i>. But I cannot +tarry here; each moment is precious. I came to request +you to accompany me to the gipsy encampment. Will you go, +or not?"</p> + +<p>"And mount behind you?" replied Peter; "I like not the +manner of conveyance."</p> + +<p>"Farewell, then." And Luke turned to depart.</p> + +<p>"Stay; that is Sir Piers's horse, old Rook. I care not if I +do ride him."</p> + +<p>"Quick, then; mount."</p> + +<p>"I will not delay you a moment," rejoined the sexton, opening +his door, and throwing his implements into the cottage. +"Back, Mole; back, sir," cried he, as the dog rushed out to +greet him. "Bring your steed nigh this stone, grandson Luke—there—a +little nearer—all's right." And away they galloped.</p> + +<p>The sexton's first inquiries were directed to ascertain how +Luke had accomplished his escape; and, having satisfied himself +in this particular, he was content to remain silent; musing, +it might be, on the incidents detailed to him.</p> + +<p>The road Luke chose was a rough, unfrequented lane, that +skirted, for nearly a mile, the moss-grown palings of the park. +It then diverged to the right, and seemed to bear towards a +range of hills rising in the distance. High hedges impeded +the view on either hand; but there were occasional gaps, affording +glimpses of the tract of country through which he was +riding. Meadows were seen steaming with heavy dews, intersected +by a deep channelled stream, whose course was marked +by a hanging cloud of vapor, as well as by a row of melancholy +pollard-willows, that stood like stripped, shivering urchins by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +the river side. Other fields succeeded, yellow with golden +grain, or bright with flowering clover—the autumnal crop—colored +with every shade, from the light green of the turnip to +the darker verdure of the bean, the various products of the +teeming land. The whole was backed by round drowsy masses +of trees.</p> + +<p>Luke spoke not, nor abated his furious course, till the road +began to climb a steep ascent. He then drew in the rein, and +from the heights of the acclivity surveyed the plain over which +he had passed.</p> + +<p>It was a rich agricultural district, with little picturesque +beauty, but much of true English endearing loveliness to +recommend it. Such a quiet, pleasing landscape, in short, as +one views, at such a season of the year, from every eminence +in every county of our merry isle. The picture was made up +of a tract of land filled with corn ripe for the sickle, or studded +with sheaves of the same golden produce, enlivened with green +meadows, so deeply luxuriant as to claim the scythe for the +second time; each divided from the other by thick hedgerows, +the uniformity of which was broken ever and anon by some +towering elm, tall poplar, or wide-branching oak. Many old +farmhouses, with their broad barns and crowded haystacks—forming +little villages in themselves—ornamented the landscape +at different points, and by their substantial look evidenced +the fertility of the soil, and the thriving condition of its inhabitants. +Some three miles distant might be seen the scattered +hamlet of Rookwood; the dark russet thatch of its houses +scarcely perceptible amidst the embrowned foliage of the +surrounding timber. The site of the village was, however, +pointed out by the square tower of the antique church, that +crested the summit of the adjoining hill; and although the +hall was entirely hidden from view, Luke readily traced out its +locality amidst the depths of the dark grove in which it was +embosomed.</p> + +<p>This goodly prospect had other claims to attention in Luke's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +eyes besides its agricultural or pictorial merit. It was, or he +deemed it was, his own. Far as his eye ranged, yea, even beyond +the line of vision, the estates of Rookwood extended.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that house below us in the valley?" asked +Peter of his companion.</p> + +<p>"I do," replied Luke; "a snug old house—a model of a +farm. Everything looks comfortable and well to do about it. +There are a dozen lusty haystacks, or thereabouts; and the +great barn, with its roof yellowed like gold, looks built for a +granary; and there are stables, kine-houses, orchards, dovecots, +and fishponds, and an old circular garden, with wall-fruit +in abundance. He should be a happy man, and a wealthy one, +who dwells therein."</p> + +<p>"He dwells therein no longer," returned Peter; "he died +last night."</p> + +<p>"How know you that? None are stirring in the house as +yet."</p> + +<p>"The owner of that house, Simon Toft," replied Peter, +"was last night struck by a thunderbolt. He was one of the +coffin-bearers at your father's funeral. They are sleeping within +the house, you say. 'Tis well. Let them sleep on—they +will awaken too soon, wake when they may—ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>"Peace!" cried Luke; "you blight everything—even this +smiling landscape you would turn to gloom. Does not this +morn awaken a happier train of thoughts within your mind? +With me it makes amends for want of sleep, effaces resentment, +and banishes every black misgiving. 'Tis a joyous thing +thus to scour the country at earliest dawn; to catch all the +spirit and freshness of the morning; to be abroad before the +lazy world is half awake; to make the most of a brief existence; +and to have spent a day of keen enjoyment, almost before the +day begins with some. I like to anticipate the rising of the +glorious luminary; to watch every line of light changing, as at +this moment, from shuddering gray to blushing rose! See how +the heavens are dyed! Who would exchange yon gorgeous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +spectacle," continued he, pointing towards the east, and again +urging his horse to full speed down the hill, endangering +the sexton's seat, and threatening to impale him upon the +crupper of the saddle—"who would exchange that sight, and +the exhilarating feeling of this fresh morn, for a couch of eiderdown, +and a headache in reversion?"</p> + +<p>"I for one," returned the sexton, sharply, "would willingly +exchange it for that, or any other couch, provided it rid me of +this accursed crupper, which galls me sorely. Moderate your +pace, grandson Luke, or I must throw myself off the horse in +self-defence."</p> + +<p>Luke slackened his charger's pace, in compliance with the +sexton's wish.</p> + +<p>"Ah! well," continued Peter, restored in a measure to comfort; +"now I can contemplate the sunrise, which you laud, +somewhat at mine ease. 'Tis a fine sight, I doubt not, to the +eyes of youth; and, to the sanguine soul of him upon whom +life itself is dawning, is, I dare say, inspiriting: but when the +heyday of existence is past; when the blood flows sluggishly +in the veins; when one has known the desolating storms which +the brightest sunrise has preceded, the seared heart refuses to +trust its false glitter; and, like the experienced sailor, sees oft +in the brightest skies a forecast of the tempest. To such a +one, there can be no new dawn of the heart; no sun can gild +its cold and cheerless horizon; no breeze can revive pulses +that have long since ceased to throb with any chance emotion. +I am too old to feel freshness in this nipping air. It chills me +more than the damps of night, to which I am accustomed. +Night—midnight! is my season of delight. Nature is instinct +then with secrets dark and dread. There is a language which +he who sleepeth not, but will wake, and watch, may haply +learn. Strange organs of speech hath the invisible world; +strange language doth it talk; strange communion hold with +him who would pry into its mysteries. It talks by bat and +owl—by the grave-worm, and by each crawling thing—by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +dust of graves, as well as by those that rot therein—but ever +doth it discourse by night, and specially when the moon is at +the full. 'Tis the lore I have then learned that makes that season +dear to me. Like your cat, mine eye expands in darkness. +I blink at the sunshine, like your owl."</p> + +<p>"Cease this forbidding strain," returned Luke; "it sounds +as harshly as your own screech-owl's cry. Let your thoughts +take a more sprightly turn, more in unison with my own and +the fair aspect of nature."</p> + +<p>"Shall I direct them to the gipsies' camp, then?" said +Peter, with a sneer. "Do your own thoughts tend thither?"</p> + +<p>"You are not altogether in the wrong," replied Luke. "I +<i>was</i> thinking of the gipsies' camp, and of one who dwells +amongst its tents."</p> + +<p>"I knew it," replied Peter. "Did you hope to deceive me +by attributing all your joyousness of heart to the dawn? Your +thoughts have been wandering all this while upon one who +hath, I will engage, a pair of sloe-black eyes, an olive skin, +and yet withal a clear one—'black, yet comely, as the tents of +Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon'—a mesh of jetty hair, that +hath entangled you in its network—ripe lips, and a cunning +tongue—one of the plagues of Egypt.—Ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>"You have guessed shrewdly," replied Luke; "I care not +to own that my thoughts were so occupied."</p> + +<p>"I was assured of it," replied the sexton. "And what may +be the name of her towards whom your imagination was +straying?"</p> + +<p>"Sibila Perez," replied Luke. "Her father was a Spanish +Gitano. She is known amongst her people by her mother's +name of Lovel."</p> + +<p>"She is beautiful, of course?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, very beautiful!—but no matter! You shall judge of +her charms anon."</p> + +<p>"I will take your word for them," returned the sexton; "and +you love her?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Passionately."</p> + +<p>"You are not married?" asked Peter, hastily.</p> + +<p>"Not as yet," replied Luke; "but my faith is plighted."</p> + +<p>"Heaven be praised! The mischief is not then irreparable. +I would have you married—though not to a gipsy girl."</p> + +<p>"And whom would you select?"</p> + +<p>"One before whom Sybil's beauty would pale as stars at +day's approach."</p> + +<p>"There lives not such a one."</p> + +<p>"Trust me there does. Eleanor Mowbray is lovely beyond +parallel. I was merely speculating upon a possibility when I +wished her yours—it is scarcely likely she would cast her eyes +upon you."</p> + +<p>"I shall not heed her neglect. Graced with my title, I +doubt not, were it my pleasure to seek a bride amongst those +of gentle blood, I should not find all indifferent to my +suit."</p> + +<p>"Possibly not. Yet what might weigh with others, would +not weigh with her. There are qualities you lack which she +has discovered in another."</p> + +<p>"In whom?"</p> + +<p>"In Ranulph Rookwood."</p> + +<p>"Is <i>he</i> her suitor?"</p> + +<p>"I have reason to think so."</p> + +<p>"And you would have me abandon my own betrothed love, +to beguile from my brother his destined bride? That were to +imitate the conduct of my grandsire, the terrible Sir Reginald, +towards <i>his</i> brother Alan."</p> + +<p>The sexton answered not, and Luke fancied he could perceive +a quivering in the hands that grasped his body for support. +There was a brief pause in their conversation.</p> + +<p>"And who is Eleanor Mowbray?" asked Luke, breaking +the silence.</p> + +<p>"Your cousin. On the mother's side a Rookwood. 'Tis +therefore I would urge your union with her. There is a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +prophecy relating to your house, which seems as though it +would be fulfilled in your person and in hers:</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 32em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<big><b><i><span class="i0">When the stray Rook shall perch on the topmost bough,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There shall be clamor and screaming, I trow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But of right, and of rule, of the ancient nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Rook that with Rook mates shall hold him possest."<br /></span></i></b></big> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"I place no faith in such fantasies," replied Luke; "and +yet the lines bear strangely upon my present situation."</p> + +<p>"Their application to yourself and Eleanor Mowbray is unquestionable," +replied the sexton.</p> + +<p>"It would seem so, indeed," rejoined Luke; and he again +sank into abstraction, from which the sexton did not care to +arouse him.</p> + +<p>The aspect of the country had materially changed since +their descent of the hill. In place of the richly-cultivated +district which lay on the other side, a broad brown tract of +waste land spread out before them, covered with scattered +patches of gorse, stunted fern, and low brushwood, presenting +an unvaried surface of unbaked turf. The shallow coat of sod +was manifested by the stones that clattered under the horse's +hoofs as he rapidly traversed the arid soil, clearing with ease +to himself, though not without discomfort to the sexton, every +gravelly trench, natural chasm, or other inequality of ground +that occurred in his course. Clinging to his grandson with +the tenacity of a bird of prey, Peter for some time kept his +station in security; but, unluckily, at one dike rather wider +than the rest, the horse, owing possibly to the mismanagement, +intentional or otherwise, of Luke, swerved; and the sexton, +dislodged from his "high estate," fell at the edge of the trench, +and rolled incontinently to the bottom.</p> + +<p>Luke drew in the rein to inquire if any bones were broken; +and Peter presently upreared his dusty person from the abyss, +and without condescending to make any reply, yet muttering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +curses, "not loud, but deep," accepted his grandson's proffered +hand, and remounted.</p> + +<p>While thus occupied, Luke fancied he heard a distant shout, +and noting whence the sound proceeded—the same quarter +by which he had approached the heath—he beheld a single +horseman spurring in their direction at the top of his speed; +and to judge from the rate at which he advanced, it was evident +he was anything but indifferently mounted. Apprehensive +of pursuit, Luke expedited the sexton's ascent; and that +accomplished, without bestowing further regard upon the object +of his solicitude, he resumed his headlong flight. He now +thought it necessary to bestow more attention on his choice of +road, and, perfectly acquainted with the heath, avoided all unnecessary +hazardous passes. In spite of his knowledge of the +ground, and the excellence of his horse, the stranger sensibly +gained upon him. The danger, however, was no longer imminent.</p> + +<p>"We are safe," cried Luke; "the limits of Hardchase are +past. In a few seconds we shall enter Davenham Wood. I +will turn the horse loose, and we will betake ourselves to flight +amongst the trees. I will show you a place of concealment. +He cannot follow us on horseback, and on foot I defy him."</p> + +<p>"Stay," cried the sexton. "He is not in pursuit—he takes +another course—he wheels to the right. By Heaven! it is the +Fiend himself upon a black horse, come for Bow-legged Ben. +See, he is there already."</p> + +<p>The horseman had turned, as the sexton stated, careering +towards a revolting object at some little distance on the right +hand. It was a gibbet, with its grisly burden. He rode +swiftly towards it, and, reining in his horse, took off his hat, +bowing profoundly to the carcase that swung in the morning +breeze. Just at that moment a gust of air catching the fleshless +skeleton, its arms seemed to be waved in reply to the salutation. +A solitary crow winged its flight over the horseman's +head as he paused. After a moment's halt, he wheeled about, +and again shouted to Luke, waving his hat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p> + +<p>"As I live," said the latter, "it is Jack Palmer."</p> + +<p>"Dick Turpin, you mean," rejoined the sexton. "He has +been paying his respects to a brother blade. Ha, ha! +Dick will never have the honor of a gibbet; he is too tender of +the knife. Did you mark the crow? But here he comes." +And in another instant Turpin was by their side.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II3" id="CHAPTER_II3"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>A GIPSY ENCAMPMENT</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 20em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I see a column of slow-rising smoke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'ertop the lofty wood, that skirts the wild.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Cowper</span>: <i>The Task</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>"The top of the morning to you, gem'men," said Turpin, +as he rode up at an easy canter. "Did you not hear my +halloo? I caught a glimpse of you on the hill yonder. I knew +you both, two miles off; and so, having a word or two to say +to you, Luke Bradley, before I leave this part of the country, +I put Bess to it, and she soon brought me within hail. Bless +her black skin," added he, affectionately patting his horse's neck, +"there's not her match in these parts, or in any other; she +wants no coaxing to do her work—no bleeders for her. I +should have been up with you before this had I not taken a +cross cut to look at poor Ben.</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 24em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One night, when mounted on my mare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Bagshot Heath I did repair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw Will Davies hanging there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the gibbet bleak and bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>With a rustified, fustified, mustified air.</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Excuse my singing. The sight of a gibbet always puts me in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +mind of the Golden Farmer. May I ask whither you are +bound, comrades?"</p> + +<p>"Comrades!" whispered the sexton to Luke; "you see <i>he</i> +does not so easily forget his old friends."</p> + +<p>"I have business that will not admit of delay," rejoined +Luke; "and to speak plainly——"</p> + +<p>"You want not my society," returned Turpin; "I guessed +as much. Natural enough! You have got an inkling of your +good fortune. You have found out you are a rich man's heir, +not a poor wench's bastard. No offence; I'm a plain +spoken man, as you will find, if you know it not already. I +have no objection to your playing these fine tricks on others, +though it won't answer your turn to do so with me."</p> + +<p>"Sir!" exclaimed Luke, sharply.</p> + +<p>"Sir to you," replied Turpin—"Sir Luke—as I suppose you +would now choose to be addressed. I am aware of all. A nod +is as good as a wink to me. Last night I learned the fact of Sir +Piers's marriage from Lady Rookwood—ay, from her ladyship. +You stare—and old Peter, there, opens his ogles now. She let it +out by accident; and I am in possession of what can alone +substantiate your father's first marriage, and establish your +claims to the property."</p> + +<p>"The devil!" cried the sexton; adding, in a whisper to +Luke, "You had better not be precipitate in dropping so +obliging an acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"You are jesting," said Luke to Turpin.</p> + +<p>"It is ill jesting before breakfast," returned Dick: "I am +seldom in the mood for a joke so early. What if a certain +marriage certificate had fallen into my hand?"</p> + +<p>"A marriage certificate!" echoed Luke and the sexton +simultaneously.</p> + +<p>"The only existing proof of the union of Sir Piers Rookwood +with Susan Bradley," continued Turpin. "What if I +had stumbled upon such a document—nay more, if I knew +where to direct you to it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Peace!" cried Luke to his tormentor; and then addressing +Turpin, "if what you say be true, my quest is at an end. +All that I need, you appear to possess. Other proofs are secondary +to this. I know with whom I have to deal. What do +you demand for that certificate?"</p> + +<p>"We will talk about the matter after breakfast," said Turpin. +"I wish to treat with you as friend with friend. Meet me on +those terms, and I am your man; reject my offer, and I turn +my mare's head, and ride back to Rookwood. With me now +rest all your hopes. I have dealt fairly with you, and I expect +to be fairly dealt with in return. It were idle to say, now I +have an opportunity, that I should not turn this luck to my +account. I were a fool to do otherwise. You cannot expect +it. And then I have Rust and Wilder to settle with. Though +I have left them behind, they know my destination. We have +been old associates. I like your spirit—I care not for your +haughtiness; but I will not help you up the ladder to be +kicked down myself. Now you understand me. Whither are +you bound?"</p> + +<p>"To Davenham Priory, the gipsy camp."</p> + +<p>"The gipsies are your friends?"</p> + +<p>"They are."</p> + +<p>"I am alone."</p> + +<p>"You are safe."</p> + +<p>"You pledge your word that all shall be on the square. You +will not mention to one of that canting crew what I have told +you?"</p> + +<p>"With one exception, you may rely upon my secrecy."</p> + +<p>"Whom do you except?"</p> + +<p>"A woman."</p> + +<p>"Bad! never trust a petticoat."</p> + +<p>"I will answer for her with my life."</p> + +<p>"And for your granddad there?"</p> + +<p>"He will answer for himself," said Peter. "You need not +fear treachery in me. Honor among thieves, you know."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Or where else should you seek it?" rejoined Turpin; "for it +has left all other classes of society. Your highwayman is your +only man of honor. I will trust you both; and you shall find +you may trust me. After breakfast, as I said before, we will +bring the matter to a conclusion. Tip us your daddle, Sir +Luke, and I am satisfied. You shall rule in Rookwood, I'll +engage, ere a week be flown; and then—— But so much parleying +is dull work; let's make the best of our way to breakfast."</p> + +<p>And away they cantered.</p> + +<p>A narrow bridle-road conducted them singly through the +defiles of a thick wood. Their route lay in the shade, and the +air felt chilly amidst the trees, the sun not having attained +sufficient altitude to penetrate its depths, while overhead all +was warmth and light. Quivering on the tops of the timber, +the horizontal sunbeams created, in their refraction, brilliant +prismatic colorings, and filled the air with motes like golden +dust. Our horsemen heeded not the sunshine or the shade. +Occupied each with his own train of thought, they silently +rode on.</p> + +<p>Davenham Wood, through which they urged their course, +had, in the olden time, been a forest of some extent. It was +then an appendage to the domains of Rookwood, but had +passed from the hands of that family to those of a wealthy +adjoining landowner and lawyer, Sir Edward Davenham, in the +keeping of whose descendants it had ever after continued. A +noble wood it was, and numbered many patriarchal trees. +Ancient oaks, with broad, gnarled limbs, which the storms of +five hundred years had vainly striven to uproot, and which +were now sternly decaying; gigantic beech trees, with silvery +stems shooting smoothly upwards, sustaining branches of such +size, that each, dissevered, would in itself have formed a tree, +populous with leaves, and variegated with rich autumnal tints; +the sprightly sycamore, the dark chestnut, the weird wych-elm, +the majestic elm itself, festooned with ivy, every variety of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +wood, dark, dense, and intricate, composed the forest through +which they rode; and so multitudinous was the timber, so +closely planted, so entirely filled up with a thick, matted vegetation, +which had been allowed to collect beneath, that little +view was afforded, had any been desired by the parties, into +the labyrinth of the grove. Tree after tree, clad in the glowing +livery of the season, was passed, and as rapidly succeeded +by others. Occasionally a bough projected over their path, +compelling the riders to incline their heads as they passed; +but, heedless of such difficulties, they pressed on. Now the +road grew lighter, and they became at once sensible of the +genial influence of the sun. The transition was as agreeable +as instantaneous. They had opened upon an extensive plantation +of full-grown pines, whose tall, branchless stems grew up +like a forest of masts, and freely admitted the pleasant sunshine. +Beneath those trees, the soil was sandy and destitute +of all undergrowth, though covered with brown, hair-like fibres +and dry cones, shed by the pines. The agile squirrel, that +freest denizen of the grove, starting from the ground as the +horsemen galloped on, sprang up the nearest tree, and might +be seen angrily gazing at the disturbers of his haunts, beating +the branches with his fore feet, in expression of displeasure; +the rabbit darted across their path; the jays flew screaming +amongst the foliage; the blue cushat, scared at the clatter of +the horses' hoofs, sped on swift wing into quarters secure from +their approach; while the parti-colored pies, like curious village +gossips, congregated to peer at the strangers, expressing their +astonishment by loud and continuous chattering. Though so +gentle of ascent as to be almost imperceptible, it was still evident +that the path they were pursuing gradually mounted a +hill-side; and when at length they reached an opening, the +view disclosed the eminence they had insensibly won. Pausing +for a moment upon the brow of the hill, Luke pointed to a +stream that wound through the valley, and, tracing its course, +indicated a particular spot amongst the trees. There was no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +appearance of a dwelling house—no cottage roof, no white +canvas shed, to point out the tents of the wandering tribe +whose abode they were seeking. The only circumstance +betokening that it had once been the haunt of man were a few +gray monastic ruins, scarce distinguishable from the stony +barrier by which they were surrounded; and the sole evidence +that it was still frequented by human beings was a thin column +of pale blue smoke, that arose in curling wreaths from out the +brake, the light-colored vapor beautifully contrasting with the +green umbrage whence it issued.</p> + +<p>"Our destination is yonder," exclaimed Luke, pointing in +the direction of the vapor.</p> + +<p>"I am glad to hear it," cried Turpin, "as well as to perceive +there is some one awake. That smoke holds out a prospect +of breakfast. No smoke without fire, as old Lady Scanmag +said; and I'll wager a trifle that fire was not lighted for +the fayter fellows to count their fingers by. We shall find +three sticks, and a black pot with a kid seething in it, I'll engage. +These gipsies have picked out a prettyish spot to quarter +in—quite picturesque, as one may say—and but for that tell-tale +smoke, which looks for all the world like a Dutch skipper +blowing his morning cloud, no one need know of their vicinity. +A pretty place, upon my soul."</p> + +<p>The spot, in sooth, merited Turpin's eulogium. It was a +little valley, in the midst of wooded hills, so secluded, that not +a single habitation appeared in view. Clothed with timber to +the very summits, excepting on the side where the party stood, +which verged upon the declivity, these mountainous ridges +presented a broken outline of foliage, variegated with tinted +masses of bright orange, timber, and deepest green. Four +hills hemmed in the valley. Here and there a gray slab of rock +might be discerned amongst the wood, and a mountain-ash +figured conspicuously upon a jutting crag immediately below +them. Deep sunken in the ravine, and concealed in part from +view by the wild herbage and dwarf shrubs, ran a range of precipitous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +rocks, severed, it would seem, by some diluvial convulsion, +from the opposite mountain side, as a corresponding +rift was there visible, in which the same dip of strata might be +observed, together with certain ribbed cavities, matching huge +bolts of rock which had once locked these stony walls together. +Washing this cliff, swept a clear stream, well known and well +regarded, as it waxed in width, by the honest brethren of the +angle, who seldom, however, tracked it to its rise amongst +these hills. The stream found its way into the valley through +a chasm far to the left, and rushed thundering down the mountain +side in a boiling cascade. The valley was approached in +this direction from Rookwood by an unfrequented carriage-road, +which Luke had, from prudential reasons, avoided. All +seemed consecrated to silence—to solitude—to the hush of +nature; yet this quiet scene was the chosen retreat of lawless +depredators, and had erstwhile been the theatre of feudal oppression. +We have said that no habitation was visible; that +no dwelling tenanted by man could be seen; but following the +spur of the furthest mountain hill, some traces of a stone wall +might be discovered; and upon a natural platform of rock +stood a stern square tower, which had once been the donjon +of the castle, the lords of which had called the four hills their +own. A watch-tower then had crowned each eminence, every +vestige of which had, however, long since disappeared. Sequestered +in the vale stood the Priory before alluded to—a Monastery +of Gray Friars, of the Order of St. Francis—some of +the venerable walls of which were still remaining; and if they +had not reverted to the bat and the owl, as is wont to be the fate +of such sacred structures, their cloistered shrines were devoted +to beings whose natures partook, in some measure, of the instincts +of those creatures of the night—a people whose deeds +were of darkness, and whose eyes shunned the light. Here +the gipsies had pitched their tent; and though the place was +often, in part, deserted by the vagrant horde, yet certain of +the tribe, who had grown into years—over whom Barbara<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +Lovel held queenly sway—made it their haunt, and were suffered +by the authorities of the neighborhood to remain unmolested—a +lenient piece of policy, which, in our infinite +regard for the weal of the tawny tribe, we recommend to the +adoption of all other justices and knights of the shire.</p> + +<p>Bidding his grandsire have regard to his seat, Luke leaped a +high bank; and, followed by Turpin, began to descend the +hill. Peter, however, took care to provide for himself. The +descent was so perilous, and the footing so insecure, that he +chose rather to trust to such conveyance as nature had furnished +him with, than to hazard his neck by any false step of +the horse. He contrived, therefore, to slide off from behind, +shaping his own course in a more secure direction.</p> + +<p>He who has wandered amidst the Alps must have often had +occasion to witness the wonderful surefootedness of that mountain +pilot, the mule. He must have remarked how, with tenacious +hoof, he will claw the rock, and drag himself from one +impending fragment to another, with perfect security to his +rider; how he will breast the roaring currents of air, and stand +unshrinking at the verge of almost unfathomable ravines. But +it is not so with the horse: fleet on the plain, careful over +rugged ground, he is timid and uncertain on the hill-side, and +the risk incurred by Luke and Turpin, in their descent of the +almost perpendicular sides of the cliff, was tremendous. Peter +watched them in their descent with some admiration, and with +much contempt.</p> + +<p>"He will break his neck, of a surety," said he; "but what +matters it? As well now as hereafter."</p> + +<p>So saying, he approached the verge of the precipice, where +he could see them more distinctly.</p> + +<p>The passage along which Luke rode had never before been +traversed by horse's hoof. Cut in the rock, it presented a steep +zigzag path amongst the cliffs, without any defence for the foot +traveller, except such as was afforded by a casual clinging shrub, +and no protection whatever existed for a horseman; the possibility<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +of any one attempting the passage not having, in all probability, +entered into the calculation of those who framed it. +Added to this, the steps were of such unequal heights, and +withal so narrow, that the danger was proportionately increased.</p> + +<p>"Ten thousand devils!" cried Turpin, staring downwards, +"is this the best road you have got?"</p> + +<p>"You will find one more easy," replied Luke, "if you ride +for a quarter of a mile down the wood, and then return by the +brook side. You will meet me at the priory."</p> + +<p>"No," answered the highwayman, boldly; "if you go, I go +too. It shall never be said that Dick Turpin was afraid to +follow where another would lead. Proceed."</p> + +<p>Luke gave his horse the bridle, and the animal slowly and +steadily commenced the descent, fixing his fore legs upon the +steps, and drawing his hinder limbs carefully after him. Here +it was that the lightness and steadiness of Turpin's mare was +completely shown. No Alpine mule could have borne its +rider with more apparent ease and safety. Turpin encouraged +her by hand and word; but she needed it not. The sexton +saw them, and, tracking their giddy descent, he became more +interested than he anticipated. His attention was suddenly +drawn towards Luke.</p> + +<p>"He is gone," cried Peter. "He falls—he sinks—my plans +are all defeated—the last link is snapped. No," added he, +recovering his wonted composure, "his end is not so fated."</p> + +<p>Rook had missed his footing. He rolled stumbling down +the precipice a few yards. Luke's fate seemed inevitable. +His feet were entangled in the stirrup, he could not free himself. +A birch tree, growing in a chink of the precipice, arrested +his further fall. But for this timely aid all had been over. +Here Luke was enabled to extricate himself from the stirrup +and to regain his feet; seizing the bridle, he dragged his +faulty steed back again to the road.</p> + +<p>"You have had a narrow escape, by Jove," said Turpin, +who had been thunderstruck with the whole proceeding.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +"Those big cattle are always clumsy; devilish lucky it's no +worse."</p> + +<p>It was now comparatively smooth travelling; but they had +not as yet reached the valley, and it seemed to be Luke's +object to take a circuitous path. This was so evident that +Turpin could not help commenting upon it.</p> + +<p>Luke evaded the question. "The crag is steep there," said +he; "besides, to tell you the truth, I want to surprise them."</p> + +<p>"Ho, ho!" laughed Dick. "Surprise them, eh? What a +pity the birch tree was in the way; you would have done it +properly then. Egad, here's another surprise."</p> + +<p>Dick's last exclamation was caused by his having suddenly +come upon a wide gully in the rock, through which dashed a +headlong torrent, crossed by a single plank.</p> + +<p>"You must be mad to have taken this road," cried Turpin, +gazing down into the roaring depths in which the waterfall +raged, and measuring the distance of the pass with his eye. +"So, so, Bess!—Ay, look at it, wench. Curse me, Luke, if I +think your horse will do it, and, therefore, turn him loose."</p> + +<p>But Dick might as well have bidden the cataract to flow +backwards. Luke struck his heels into his horse's sides. The +steed galloped to the brink, snorted, and refused the leap.</p> + +<p>"I told you so—he can't do it," said Turpin. "Well, if +you are obstinate, a wilful man must have his way. Stand aside, +while I try it for you." Patting Bess, he put her to a gallop. +She cleared the gulf bravely, landing her rider safely upon the +opposite rock.</p> + +<p>"Now then," cried Turpin, from the other side of the chasm.</p> + +<p>Luke again urged his steed. Encouraged by what he had +seen, this time the horse sprang across without hesitation. +The next instant they were in the valley.</p> + +<p>For some time they rode along the banks of the stream in +silence. A sound at length caught the quick ears of the highwayman.</p> + +<p>"Hist!" cried he; "some one sings. Do you hear it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I do," replied Luke, the blood rushing to his cheeks.</p> + +<p>"And could give a guess at the singer, no doubt," said +Turpin, with a knowing look. "Was it to hear yon woodlark that +you nearly broke your own neck, and put mine in jeopardy?"</p> + +<p>"Prithee be silent," whispered Luke.</p> + +<p>"I am dumb," replied Turpin; "I like a sweet voice as +well as another."</p> + +<p>Clear as the note of a bird, yet melancholy as the distant +dole of a vesper-bell, arose the sound of that sweet voice from +the wood. A fragment of a Spanish gipsy song it warbled: +Luke knew it well. Thus ran the romance:</p> + + +<p class="hd1">LA GITANILLA</p> +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 19em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">By the Guadalquivir,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ere the sun be flown,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By that glorious river<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sits a maid alone.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like the sunset splendor<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of that current bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shone her dark eyes tender<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As its witching light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the ripple flowing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tinged with purple sheen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darkly, richly glowing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is her warm cheek seen.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'Tis the Gitanilla<br /></span> +<span class="i6">By the stream doth linger,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In the hope that eve<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Will her lover bring her.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">See, the sun is sinking;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">All grows dim, and dies;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">See, the waves are drinking<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Glories of the skies.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Day's last lustre playeth<br /></span> +<span class="i4">On that current dark;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet no speck betrayeth<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His long looked-for bark.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis the hour of meeting!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nay, the hour is past;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift the time is fleeting!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fleeteth hope as fast.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Still the Gitanilla<br /></span> +<span class="i6">By the stream doth linger,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In the hope that night<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Will her lover bring her.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>The tender trembling of a guitar was heard in accompaniment +of the ravishing melodist.</p> + +<p>The song ceased.</p> + +<p>"Where is the bird?" asked Turpin.</p> + +<p>"Move on in silence, and you shall see," said Luke; and +keeping upon the turf, so that his horse's tread became inaudible, +he presently arrived at a spot where, through the +boughs, the object of his investigation could plainly be distinguished, +though he himself was concealed from view.</p> + +<p>Upon a platform of rock, rising to the height of the trees, +nearly perpendicularly from the river's bed, appeared the figure +of the gipsy maid. Her footstep rested on the extreme edge +of the abrupt cliff, at whose base the water boiled in a deep +whirlpool, and the bounding chamois could not have been more +lightly poised. One small hand rested upon her guitar, the +other pressed her brow. Braided hair, of the jettiest dye and +sleekest texture, was twined around her brow in endless +twisted folds:</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rowled it was in many a curious fret,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much like a rich and curious coronet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon whose arches twenty Cupids lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And were as tied, or loth to fly away.<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>And so exuberant was this rarest feminine ornament, that, +after encompassing her brow, it was passed behind, and hung +down in long thick plaits almost to her feet. Sparkling, as +the sunbeams that played upon her dark yet radiant features,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +were the large, black, Oriental eyes of the maiden, and shaded +with lashes long and silken. Hers was a Moorish countenance, +in which the magnificence of the eyes eclipses the face, be it +ever so beautiful—an effect to be observed in the angelic +pictures of Murillo,—and the lovely contour is scarcely noticed +in the gaze which those long, languid, luminous orbs attract. +Sybil's features were exquisite, yet you looked only at her +eyes—they were the loadstars of her countenance. Her costume +was singular, and partook, like herself, of other climes. +Like the Andalusian dame, her choice of color inclined towards +black, as the material of most of her dress was of that +sombre hue. A bodice of embroidered velvet restrained her +delicate bosom's swell; a rich girdle, from which depended a +silver chain, sustaining a short poniard, bound her waist; +around her slender throat was twined a costly kerchief; and +the rest of her dress was calculated to display her slight, yet +faultless, figure to the fullest advantage.</p> + +<p>Unconscious that she was the object of regard, she raised +her guitar, and essayed to touch the chords. She struck a +few notes, and resumed her romance:</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 15em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swift that stream flows on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Swift the night is wearing,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet she is not gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though with heart despairing.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Her song died away. Her hand was needed to brush off +the tears that were gathering in her large dark eyes. At once +her attitude was changed. The hare could not have started +more suddenly from her form. She heard accents well known +concluding the melody:</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dips an oar-plash—hark!—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gently on the river;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis her lover's bark.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the Guadalquivir.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Hark! a song she hears!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Every note she snatches;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the singer nears,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her own name she catches.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Now the Gitanilla<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Stays not by the water,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For the midnight hour<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Hath her lover brought her.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>It was her lover's voice. She caught the sound at once, +and, starting, as the roe would arouse herself at the hunter's +approach, bounded down the crag, and ere he had finished the +refrain, was by his side.</p> + +<p>Flinging the bridle to Turpin, Luke sprang to her, and +caught her in his arms. Disengaging herself from his ardent +embrace, Sybil drew back, abashed at the sight of the highwayman.</p> + +<p>"Heed him not," said Luke; "it is a friend."</p> + +<p>"He is welcome here then," replied Sybil. "But where +have you tarried so long, dear Luke?" continued she, as they +walked to a little distance from the highwayman. "What hath +detained you? The hours have passed wearily since you departed. +You bring good news?"</p> + +<p>"Good news, my girl; so good, that I falter even in the +telling of it. You shall know all anon. And see, our friend +yonder grows impatient. Are there any stirring? We must +bestow a meal upon him, and that forthwith: he is one of those +who brook not much delay."</p> + +<p>"I came not to spoil a love meeting," said Turpin, who had +good-humoredly witnessed the scene; "but, in sober seriousness, +if there is a stray capon to be met with in the land of +Egypt, I shall be glad to make his acquaintance. Methinks I +scent a stew afar off."</p> + +<p>"Follow me," said Sybil; "your wants shall be supplied."</p> + +<p>"Stay," said Luke; "there is one other of our party whose +coming we must abide."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He is here," said Sybil, observing the sexton at a distance. +"Who is that old man?"</p> + +<p>"My grandsire, Peter Bradley."</p> + +<p>"Is that Peter Bradley?" asked Sybil.</p> + +<p>"Ay, you may well ask whether that old dried-up <i>otomy</i>, +who ought to grin in a glass case for folks to stare at, be kith +and kin of such a bang-up cove as your fancy man, Luke," +said Turpin, laughing—"but i' faith he is."</p> + +<p>"Though he is your grandsire, Luke," said Sybil, "I like +him not. His glance resembles that of the Evil Eye."</p> + +<p>And, in fact, the look which Peter fixed upon her was such +as the rattlesnake casts upon its victim, and Sybil felt like a +poor fluttering bird under the fascination of that venomous +reptile. She could not remove her eyes from his, though she +trembled as she gazed. We have said that Peter's orbs were +like those of the toad. Age had not dimmed their brilliancy. +In his harsh features you could only read bitter scorn or withering +hate; but in his eyes resided a magnetic influence of attraction +or repulsion. Sybil underwent the former feeling in +a disagreeable degree. She was drawn to him as by the motion +of a whirlpool, and involuntarily clung to her lover.</p> + +<p>"It is the Evil Eye, dear Luke."</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut, dear Sybil; I tell you it is my grandsire."</p> + +<p>"The girl says rightly, however," rejoined Turpin; "Peter +has a confounded ugly look about the ogles, and stares enough +to put a modest wench out of countenance. Come, come, my +old earthworm, crawl along, we have waited for you long +enough. Is this the first time you have seen a pretty lass, +eh?"</p> + +<p>"It is the first time I have seen one so beautiful," said +Peter; "and I crave her pardon if my freedom has offended +her. I wonder not at your enchantment, grandson Luke, now +I behold the object of it. But there is one piece of counsel I +would give to this fair maid. The next time she trusts you +from her sight, I would advise her to await you at the hill-top,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +otherwise the chances are shrewdly against your reaching the +ground with neck unbroken."</p> + +<p>There was something, notwithstanding the satirical manner +in which Peter delivered this speech, calculated to make a +more favorable impression upon Sybil than his previous conduct +had inspired her with; and, having ascertained from Luke +to what his speech referred, she extended her hand to him, +yet not without a shudder, as it was enclosed in his skinny +grasp. It was like the fingers of Venus in the grasp of a +skeleton.</p> + +<p>"This is a little hand," said Peter, "and I have some skill +myself in palmistry. Shall I peruse its lines?"</p> + +<p>"Not now, in the devil's name!" said Turpin, stamping +impatiently. "We shall have Old Ruffin himself amongst us +presently, if Peter Bradley grows gallant."</p> + +<p>Leading their horses, the party took their way through the +trees. A few minutes' walking brought them in sight of the +gipsy encampment, the spot selected for which might be termed +the Eden of the valley. It was a small green plain, smooth as +a well-shorn lawn, kept ever verdant—save in the spots where +the frequent fires had scorched its surface—by the flowing +stream that rushed past it, and surrounded by an amphitheatre +of wooded hills. Here might be seen the canvas tent with its +patches of varied coloring; the rude-fashioned hut of primitive +construction; the kettle slung</p> + +<p class="hd4">Between two poles, upon a stick transverse;</p> + +<p>the tethered beasts of burden, the horses, asses, dogs, carts, +caravans, wains, blocks, and other movables and immovables +belonging to the wandering tribe. Glimmering through the +trees, at the extremity of the plain, appeared the ivy-mantled +walls of Davenham Priory. Though much had gone to decay, +enough remained to recall the pristine state of this once majestic +pile, and the long, though broken line of Saxon arches, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +still marked the cloister wall; the piers that yet supported the +dormitory; the enormous horse-shoe arch that spanned the +court; and, above all, the great marigold, or circular window, +which terminated the chapel, and which, though now despoiled +of its painted honors, retained, like the skeleton leaf, its +fibrous intricacies entire,—all eloquently spoke of the glories +of the past, while they awakened reverence and admiration for +the still enduring beauty of the present.</p> + +<p>Towards these ruins Sybil conducted the party.</p> + +<p>"Do you dwell therein?" asked Peter, pointing towards +the priory.</p> + +<p>"That is my dwelling," said Sybil.</p> + +<p>"It is one I should covet more than a modern mansion," +returned the sexton.</p> + +<p>"I love those old walls better than any house that was ever +fashioned," replied Sybil.</p> + +<p>As they entered the Prior's Close, as it was called, several +swarthy figures made their appearance from the tents. Many +a greeting was bestowed upon Luke, in the wild jargon of the +tribe. At length an uncouth dwarfish figure, with a shock +head of black hair, hopped towards them. He seemed to acknowledge +Luke as his master.</p> + +<p>"What ho! Grasshopper," said Luke, "take these horses, +and see that they lack neither dressing nor provender."</p> + +<p>"And hark ye, Grasshopper," added Turpin; "I give you +a special charge about this mare. Neither dress nor feed her +till I see both done myself. Just walk her for ten minutes, +and if you have a glass of ale in the place, let her sip it."</p> + +<p>"Your bidding shall be done," chirped the human insect, +as he fluttered away with his charges.</p> + +<p>A motley assemblage of tawny-skinned varlets, dark-eyed +women and children, whose dusky limbs betrayed their lineage, +in strange costume, and of wild deportment, checked the path, +muttering welcome upon welcome into the ear of Luke as he +passed. As it was evident he was in no mood for converse,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +Sybil, who seemed to exercise considerable authority over the +crew, with a word dispersed them, and they herded back to +their respective habitations.</p> + +<p>A low door admitted Luke and his companions into what +had once been the garden, in which some old moss-encrusted +apple and walnut-trees were still standing, bearing a look of +antiquity almost as venerable as that of the adjoining fabric.</p> + +<p>Another open door gave them entrance to a spacious chamber, +formerly the eating-room or refectory of the holy brotherhood, +and a goodly room it had been, though now its slender +lanceolated windows were stuffed with hay to keep out the air. +Large holes told where huge oaken rafters had once crossed +the roof, and a yawning aperture marked the place where a +cheering fire had formerly blazed. As regarded this latter +spot, the good old custom was not, even now, totally abrogated. +An iron plate, covered with crackling wood, sustained a ponderous +black caldron, the rich steam from which gratefully +affected the olfactory organs of the highwayman.</p> + +<p>"That augurs well," said he, rubbing his hands.</p> + +<p>"Still hungering after the fleshpots of Egypt," said the sexton, +with a ghastly smile.</p> + +<p>"We will see what that kettle contains," said Luke.</p> + +<p>"Handassah—Grace!" exclaimed Sybil, calling.</p> + +<p>Her summons was answered by two maidens, habited not +unbecomingly, in gipsy gear.</p> + +<p>"Bring the best our larder can furnish," said Sybil, "and +use despatch. You have appetites to provide for, sharpened +by a long ride in the open air."</p> + +<p>"And by a night's fasting," said Luke, "and solitary confinement +to boot."</p> + +<p>"And a night of business," added Turpin—"and plaguy +perplexing business into the bargain."</p> + +<p>"And the night of a funeral too," doled Peter; "and that +funeral a father's. Let us have breakfast speedily, by all means. +We have rare appetites."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> + +<p>An old oaken table—it might have been the self-same upon +which the holy friars had broken their morning fast—stood in +the middle of the room. The ample board soon groaned beneath +the weight of the savory caldron, the unctuous contents +of which proved to be a couple of dismembered pheasants, an +equal proportion of poultry, great gouts of ham, mushrooms, +onions, and other piquant condiments, so satisfactory to Dick +Turpin, that, upon tasting a mouthful, he absolutely shed tears +of delight. The dish was indeed the triumph of gipsy cookery; +and so sedulously did Dick apply himself to his mess, and so +complete was his abstraction, that he perceived not he was +left alone. It was only when about to wash down the last +drumstick of the last fowl with a can of excellent ale that he +made this discovery.</p> + +<p>"What! all gone? And Peter Bradley, too? What the +devil does this mean?" mused he. "I must not muddle my +brain with any more Pharaoh, though I have feasted like a +king of Egypt. That will never do. Caution, Dick, caution. +Suppose I shift yon brick from the wall, and place this precious +document beneath it. Pshaw! Luke would never play +me false. And now for Bess! Bless her black skin! she'll +wonder where I've been so long. It's not my way to leave +her to shift for herself, though she can do that on a pinch."</p> + +<p>Soliloquizing thus, he arose and walked towards the door.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III3" id="CHAPTER_III3"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>SYBIL</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 21em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wiving vine, that round the friendly elm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twines her soft limbs, and weaves a leafy mantle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For her supporting lover, dares not venture<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To mix her humble boughs with the embraces<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the more lofty cedar.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Glapthorne</span>: <i>Albertus Wallenstein</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>Beneath a moldering wall, whither they had strayed, to be +free from interruption, and upon a carpet of the greenest moss, +sat Sybil and her lover.</p> + +<p>With eager curiosity she listened to his tale. He recounted +all that had befallen him since his departure. He told her of +the awful revelations of the tomb; of the ring that, like a talisman, +had conjured up a thousand brilliant prospects; of his +subsequent perils; his escapes; his rencontre with Lady Rookwood; +his visit to his father's body; and his meeting with his +brother. All this she heard with a cheek now flushed with +expectation, now made pale with apprehension; with palpitating +bosom, and suppressed breath. But when taking a softer +tone, love, affection, happiness inspired the theme, and Luke +sought to paint the bliss that should be theirs in his new +estate; when he would throw his fortune into her lap, his +titles at her feet, and bid her wear them with him; when, +with ennobled hand and unchanged heart, he would fulfil the +troth plighted in his outcast days; in lieu of tender, grateful +acquiescence, the features of Sybil became overcast, the soft +smile faded away, and, as spring sunshine is succeeded by +the sudden shower, the light that dwelt in her sunny orbs +grew dim with tears.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why—why is this, dear Sybil?" said Luke, gazing upon +her in astonishment, not unmingled with displeasure. "To +what am I to attribute these tears? You do not, surely, regret +my good fortune?"</p> + +<p>"Not on your own account, dear Luke," returned she, sadly. +"The tears I shed were for myself—the first, the only tears +that I have ever shed for such cause; and," added she, raising +her head like a flower surcharged with moisture, "they shall +be the last."</p> + +<p>"This is inexplicable, dear Sybil. Why should you lament +for yourself, if not for me? Does not the sunshine of prosperity +that now shines upon me gild you with the same beam? +Did I not even now affirm that the day that saw me enter the +hall of my forefathers should dawn upon our espousals?"</p> + +<p>"True; but the sun that shines upon you, to me wears a +threatening aspect. The day of those espousals will never +dawn. You cannot make me the Lady of Rookwood."</p> + +<p>"What do I hear?" exclaimed Luke, surprised at this +avowal of his mistress, sadly and deliberately delivered. "Not +wed you! And wherefore not? Is it the rank I have acquired, +or hope to acquire, that displeases you? Speak, that I may +waste no further time in thus pursuing the shadows of happiness, +while the reality fleets from me."</p> + +<p>"And <i>are</i> they shadows; and <i>is</i> this the reality, dear Luke? +Question your secret soul, and you will find it otherwise. You +could not forego your triumph; it is not likely. You have +dwelt too much upon the proud title which will be yours to +yield it to another, when it may be won so easily. And, above +all, when your mother's reputation, and your own stained +name, may be cleared by one word, breathed aloud, would you +fail to utter it? No, dear Luke, I read your heart; you would +not."</p> + +<p>"And if I could <i>not</i> forego this, wherefore is it that you +refuse to be a sharer in my triumph? Why will you render my +honors valueless when I have acquired them? You love me not."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not love you, Luke?"</p> + +<p>"Approve it, then."</p> + +<p>"I do approve it. Bear witness the sacrifice I am about to +make of all my hopes, at the shrine of my idolatry to you. +Bear witness the agony of this hour. Bear witness the horror +of the avowal, that I never can be yours. As Luke Bradley, I +would joyfully—oh, how joyfully!—have been your bride. As +Sir Luke Rookwood"—and she shuddered as she pronounced +the name—"I never can be so."</p> + +<p>"Then, by Heaven! Luke Bradley will I remain. But +wherefore—wherefore not as Sir Luke Rookwood?"</p> + +<p>"Because," replied Sybil, with reluctance—"because I am +no longer your equal. The gipsy's low-born daughter is no +mate for Sir Luke Rookwood. Love cannot blind me, dear +Luke. It cannot make me other than I am; it cannot exalt +me in my own esteem, nor in that of the world, with which +you, alas! too soon will mingle, and which will regard even me as—no +matter what!—it shall not scorn me as your bride. I will +not bring shame and reproach upon you. Oh! if for me, dear +Luke, the proud ones of the earth were to treat you with contumely, +this heart would break with agony. For myself, I have +pride sufficient—perchance too much. Perchance 'tis pride +that actuates me now. I know not. But for you I am all +weakness. As you were heretofore, I would have been to you +the tenderest and truest wife that ever breathed; as you are +now——"</p> + +<p>"Hear me, Sybil."</p> + +<p>"Hear <i>me</i> out, dear Luke. One other motive there is that +determines my present conduct, which, were all else surmounted, +would in itself suffice. Ask me not what that is. I +cannot explain it. For your own sake; I implore you, be satisfied +with my refusal."</p> + +<p>"What a destiny is mine!" exclaimed Luke, striking his +forehead with his clenched hand. "No choice is left me. +Either way I destroy my own happiness. On the one hand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +stands love—on the other, ambition; yet neither will conjoin."</p> + +<p>"Pursue, then, ambition," said Sybil, energetically, "if you +<i>can</i> hesitate. Forget that I have ever existed; forget you +have ever loved; forget that such a passion dwells within the +human heart, and you may still be happy, though you are +great."</p> + +<p>"And do you deem," replied Luke, with frantic impatience, +"that I <i>can</i> accomplish this; that I <i>can</i> forget that I have +loved you; that I <i>can</i> forget you? Cost what it will, the effort +shall be made. Yet by our former love, I charge you tell +me what has wrought this change in you! Why do you <i>now</i> +refuse me?"</p> + +<p>"I have said you are Sir Luke Rookwood," returned Sybil, +with painful emotion. "Does that name import nothing?"</p> + +<p>"Imports it aught of ill?"</p> + +<p>"To me, everything of ill. It is a fated house. Its line +are all predestined."</p> + +<p>"To what?" demanded Luke.</p> + +<p>"To <i>murder</i>!" replied Sybil, with solemn emphasis. "To +the murder of their wives. Forgive me, Luke, if I have dared +to utter this. Yourself compelled me to it."</p> + +<p>Amazement, horror, wrath, kept Luke silent for a few moments. +Starting to his feet, he cried:</p> + +<p>"And can you suspect me of a crime so foul? Think you, +because I shall assume the name, that I shall put on the nature +likewise of my race? Do you believe me capable of aught so +horrible?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I believe it not. I am sure you would not do it. +Your soul would reject with horror such a deed. But if Fate +should guide your hand, if the avenging spirit of your murdered +ancestress should point to the steel, you could not shun +it then."</p> + +<p>"In Heaven's name! to what do you allude?"</p> + +<p>"To a tradition of your house," replied Sybil. "Listen to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +me, and you shall hear the legend." And with a pathos that +produced a thrilling effect upon Luke, she sang the following +ballad:</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE LEGEND OF THE LADY OF ROOKWOOD</p> +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 34em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Grim Ranulph home hath at midnight come, from the long wars of the Roses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the squire, who waits at his ancient gates, a secret dark discloses;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To that varlet's words no response accords his lord, but his visage stern<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grows ghastly white in the wan moonlight, and his eyes like the lean wolf's burn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To his lady's bower, at that lonesome hour, unannounced, is Sir Ranulph gone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the dim corridor, through the hidden door, he glides—she is all alone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full of holy zeal doth his young dame kneel at the meek Madonna's feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hands are pressed on her gentle breast, and upturned is her aspect sweet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beats Ranulph's heart with a joyful start, as he looks on her guiltless face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the raging fire of his jealous ire is subdued by the words of grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His own name shares her murmured prayers—more freely can he breathe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ah! that look! Why doth he pluck his poniard from its sheath?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On a footstool thrown, lies a costly gown of saye and of minevere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—A mantle fair for the dainty wear of a migniard cavalier,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on it flung, to a bracelet hung, a picture meets his eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"By my father's head!" grim Ranulph said, "false wife, thy end draws nigh."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From off its chain hath the fierce knight ta'en that fond and fatal pledge;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His dark eyes blaze, no word he says, thrice gleams his dagger's edge!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her blood it drinks, and, as she sinks, his victim hears his cry:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"For kiss impure of paramour, adult'ress, dost thou die!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Silent he stood, with hands embrued in gore, and glance of flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As thus her plaint, in accents faint, made his ill-fated dame:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Kind Heaven can tell, that all too well, I've loved thee, cruel lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now with hate commensurate, assassin, thou'rt abhorred.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I've loved thee long, through doubt and wrong; I've loved thee and no other;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my love was pure for my paramour, for alas! he was my brother!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Red, Red Rose, on <i>thy</i> banner glows, on <i>his</i> pennon gleams the White,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bitter feud, that ye both have rued, forbids ye to unite.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My bower he sought, what time he thought thy jealous vassals slept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of joy we dreamed, and never deemed that watch those vassals kept;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An hour flew by, too speedily!—that picture was his boon:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! little thrift to me that gift: he left me all too soon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wo worth the hour! dark fates did lower, when our hands were first united,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For my heart's firm truth, 'mid tears and ruth, with death hast thou requited:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In prayer sincere, full many a year of my wretched life I've spent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to hell's control would I give my soul to work thy chastisement!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These wild words said, low drooped her head, and Ranulph's life-blood froze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the earth did gape, as an awful shape from out its depths arose:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thy prayer is heard, Hell hath concurred," cried the fiend, "thy soul is mine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like fate may dread each dame shall wed with Ranulph or his line!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Within the tomb to await her doom is that hapless lady sleeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And another bride by Ranulph's side through the livelong night is weeping.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This</i> dame declines—a third repines, and fades, like the rest, away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her lot she rues, whom a Rookwood woos—<i>cursed is her Wedding Day</i>!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"And this is the legend of my ancestress?" said Luke, as +Sybil's strains were ended.</p> + +<p>"It is," replied she.</p> + +<p>"An idle tale," observed Luke, moodily.</p> + +<p>"Not so," answered Sybil. "Has not the curse of blood +clung to all your line? Has it not attached to your father—to +Sir Reginald—Sir Ralph—Sir Ranulph—to all? Which of +them has escaped it? And when I tell you this, dear Luke; +when I find you bear the name of this accursed race, can you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +wonder if I shudder at adding to the list of the victims of that +ruthless spirit, and that I tremble for you? I would die <i>for</i> +you willingly—but not by your hand. I would not that my +blood, which I would now pour out for you as freely as water, +should rise up in judgment against you. For myself I have no +tears—for <i>you</i>, a thousand. My mother, upon her death-bed, +told me I should never be yours. I believed her not, for I was +happy then. She said that we never should be united; or, if +united——?"</p> + +<p>"What, in Heaven's name?"</p> + +<p>"That you would be my destroyer. How could I credit +her words then? How can I doubt them now, when I find +you are a Rookwood? And think not, dear Luke, that I am +ruled by selfish fears in this resolution. To renounce you may +cost me my life; but the deed will be my own. You may call +me superstitious, credulous: I have been nurtured in credulity. +It is the faith of my fathers. There are those, methinks, who +have an insight into futurity; and such boding words have +been spoken, that, be they true or false, I will not risk their +fulfilment in my person. I may be credulous; I may be +weak; I may be erring; but I am steadfast in this. Bid me +perish at your feet, and I will do it. I will not be your Fate. +I will not be the wretched instrument of your perdition. I will +love, worship, watch, serve, perish for you—but I'll not wed you."</p> + +<p>Exhausted by the vehemence of her emotion, she would +have sunk upon the ground, had not Luke caught her in his +arms. Pressing her to his bosom, he renewed his passionate +protestations. Every argument was unavailing. Sybil appeared +inflexible.</p> + +<p>"You love me as you have ever loved me?" said she, at +length.</p> + +<p>"A thousand-fold more fervently," replied Luke; "put it +to the test."</p> + +<p>"How if I dare to do so? Consider well: I may ask too +much."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Name it. If it be not to surrender you, by my mother's +body I will obey you."</p> + +<p>"I would propose an oath."</p> + +<p>"Ha!"</p> + +<p>"A solemn, binding oath, that; if you wed me not, you will +not wed another. Ha! do you start? Have I appalled +you?"</p> + +<p>"I start? I will take it. Hear me—by——"</p> + +<p>"Hold!" exclaimed a voice behind them. "Do not forswear +yourself." And immediately afterwards the sexton made +his appearance. There was a malignant smile upon his countenance. +The lovers started at the ominous interruption.</p> + +<p>"Begone!" cried Luke.</p> + +<p>"Take not that oath," said Peter, "and I leave you. Remember +the counsel I gave you on our way hither."</p> + +<p>"What counsel did he give you, Luke?" inquired Sybil, +eagerly, of her lover.</p> + +<p>"We spoke of you, fond girl," replied Peter. "I cautioned +him against the match. I knew not your sentiments, or I +had spared myself the trouble. You have judged wisely. +Were he to wed you, ill would come of it. But he <i>must</i> wed +another."</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Must!</span>" cried Sybil, her eyes absolutely emitting sparkles +of indignation from their night-like depths; and, unsheathing +as she spoke the short poniard which she wore at her girdle, +she rushed towards Peter, raising her hand to strike.</p> + +<p>"<i>Must</i> wed another! And dare you counsel this?"</p> + +<p>"Put up your dagger, fair maiden," said Peter, calmly. +"Had I been younger, your eyes might have had more terrors +for me than your weapon; as it is, I am proof against both. +You would not strike an old man like myself, and of your +lover's kin?"</p> + +<p>Sybil's uplifted hand fell to her side.</p> + +<p>"'Tis true," continued the sexton, "I dared to give him +this advice; and when you have heard me out, you will not, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +am persuaded, think me so unreasonable as, at first, I may appear +to be. I have been an unseen listener to your converse; +not that I desire to pry into your secrets—far from it; I overheard +you by accident. I applaud your resolution; but if you +are inclined to sacrifice all for your lover's weal, do not let the +work be incomplete. Bind him not by oaths which he will regard +as spiders' webs, to be burst through at pleasure. You +see, as well as I do, that he is bent on being lord of Rookwood; +and, in truth, to an aspiring mind, such a desire is +natural, is praiseworthy. It will be pleasant, as well as honorable, +to efface the stain cast upon his birth. It will be an act +of filial duty in him to restore his mother's good name; and I, +her father, laud his anxiety on that score; though, to speak +truth, fair maid, I am not so rigid as your nice moralists in my +view of human nature, and can allow a latitude to love which +their nicer scruples will not admit. It will be a proud thing to +triumph over his implacable foe; and this he may accomplish——"</p> + +<p>"Without marriage," interrupted Sybil, angrily.</p> + +<p>"True," returned Peter; "yet not maintain it. May win it, +but not wear it. You have said truly, the house of Rookwood +is a fated house; and it hath been said likewise, that if he wed +not one of his own kindred—that if Rook mate not with Rook, +his possessions shall pass away from his hands. Listen to +this prophetic quatrain:</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 32em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<big><b><i><span class="i0">When the stray Rook shall perch on the topmost bough,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There shall be clamor and screeching, I trow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But of right to, and rule of the ancient nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Rook that with Rook mates shall hold him possest.<br /></span></i></b></big> +</div></div></div> + +<p>You hear what these quaint rhymes say. Luke is, doubtless, +the stray rook, and a fledgeling hath flown hither from a distant +country. He must take her to his mate, or relinquish her and +'the ancient nest' to his brother. For my own part, I disregard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +such sayings. I have little faith in prophecy and divination. +I know not what Eleanor Mowbray, for so she is called, +can have to do with the tenure of the estates of Rookwood. +But if Luke Rookwood, after he has lorded it for awhile in +splendor, be cast forth again in rags and wretchedness, let him +not blame his grandsire for his own want of caution."</p> + +<p>"Luke, I implore you, tell me," said Sybil, who had listened, +horror-stricken, to the sexton, shuddering, as it were, beneath +the chilly influence of his malevolent glance, "is this true? +Does your fate depend upon Eleanor Mowbray? Who is she? +What has she to do with Rookwood? Have you seen her? +Do you love her?"</p> + +<p>"I have never seen her," replied Luke.</p> + +<p>"Thank Heaven for that!" cried Sybil. "Then you love +her not?"</p> + +<p>"How were that possible?" returned Luke. "Do I not say +I have not seen her?"</p> + +<p>"Who is she, then?"</p> + +<p>"This old man tells me she is my cousin. She is betrothed +to my brother Ranulph."</p> + +<p>"How?" ejaculated Sybil. "And would you snatch his +betrothed from your brother's arms? Would you do him this +grievous wrong? Is it not enough that you must wrest from +him that which he has long deemed his own? And if he has +falsely deemed it so, it will not make his loss the less bitter. +If you do thus wrong your brother, do not look for happiness; +do not look for respect; for neither will be your portion. +Even this stony-hearted old man shrinks aghast at such a deed. +His snake-like eyes are buried on the ground. See, I have +moved even <i>him</i>."</p> + +<p>And in truth Peter did appear, for an instant, strangely +moved.</p> + +<p>"'Tis nothing," returned he, mastering his emotion by a +strong effort. "What is all this to me? I never had a brother. +I never had aught—wife, child, or relative, that loved me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +And I love not the world, nor the things of the world, nor +those that inhabit the world. But I know what sways the +world and its inhabitants; and that is, <span class="smcapl">SELF! AND SELF-INTEREST!</span> +Let Luke reflect on this. The key to Rookwood is Eleanor +Mowbray. The hand that grasps hers, grasps those lands; +thus saith the prophecy."</p> + +<p>"It is a lying prophecy."</p> + +<p>"It was uttered by one of your race."</p> + +<p>"By whom?"</p> + +<p>"By Barbara Lovel," said Peter, with a sneer of triumph.</p> + +<p>"Ha!"</p> + +<p>"Heed him not," exclaimed Luke, as Sybil recoiled at this +intelligence. "I am yours."</p> + +<p>"Not mine! not mine!" shrieked she; "but, oh! not +<i>hers</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Whither go you?" cried Luke, as Sybil, half bewildered, +tore herself from him.</p> + +<p>"To Barbara Lovel."</p> + +<p>"I will go with you."</p> + +<p>"No! let me go alone. I have much to ask her; yet tarry +not with this old man, dear Luke, or close your ears to his +crafty talk. Avoid him. Oh, I am sick at heart. Follow me +not; I implore you, follow me not."</p> + +<p>And with distracted air she darted amongst the mouldering +cloisters, leaving Luke stupefied with anguish and surprise. +The sexton maintained a stern and stoical composure.</p> + +<p>"She is a woman, after all," muttered he; "all her high-flown +resolves melt like snow in the sunshine at the thought of +a rival. I congratulate you, grandson Luke; you are free from +your fetters."</p> + +<p>"Free!" echoed Luke. "Quit my sight; I loathe to look +upon you. You have broken the truest heart that ever beat in +woman's bosom."</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut," returned Peter; "it is not broken yet. Wait +till we hear what old Barbara has got to say; and, meanwhile,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +we must arrange with Dick Turpin the price of that certificate. +The knave knows its value well. Come, be a man. This is +worse than womanish."</p> + +<p>And at length he succeeded, half by force and half by persuasion, +in dragging Luke away with him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV3" id="CHAPTER_IV3"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>BARBARA LOVEL</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Los Gitanos son encantadores, adivinos, magos, chyromanticos, que +dicen por las rayas de las manos lo Futuro, que ellos llaman Buenaventura, +y generalmente son dados à toda supersticion.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><span style="margin-right: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Doctor Sancho de Moncada.</span></span><br /> +<i>Discurso sobre Espulsion de los Gitanos.</i></p></div> + + +<p>Like a dove escaped from the talons of the falcon, Sybil fled +from the clutches of the sexton. Her brain was in a whirl, her +blood on fire. She had no distinct perception of external +objects; no definite notion of what she herself was about to +do, and glided more like a flitting spirit than a living woman +along the ruined ambulatory. Her hair had fallen in disorder +over her face. She stayed not to adjust it, but tossed aside +the blinding locks with frantic impatience. She felt as one +may feel who tries to strain his nerves, shattered by illness, to +the endurance of some dreadful, yet necessary pain.</p> + +<p>Sybil loved her granddame, old Barbara; but it was with a +love tempered by fear. Barbara was not a person to inspire +esteem or to claim affection. She was regarded by the wild +tribe which she ruled as their queen-elect, with some such +feeling of inexplicable awe as is entertained by the African +slave for the Obeah woman. They acknowledged her power, +unhesitatingly obeyed her commands, and shrank with terror<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +from her anathema, which was indeed seldom pronounced; +but when uttered, was considered as doom. Her tribe she +looked upon as her flock, and stretched her maternal hand over +all, ready alike to cherish or chastise; and having already survived +a generation, that which succeeded, having from infancy +imbibed a superstitious veneration for the "cunning woman," +as she was called, the sentiment could never be wholly effaced. +Winding her way, she knew not how, through roofless halls, +over disjointed fragments of fallen pillars, Sybil reached a flight +of steps. A door, studded with iron nails, stayed her progress; +it was an old, strong oaken frame, surmounted by a Gothic +arch, in the keystone of which leered one of those grotesque +demoniacal faces with which the fathers of the church delighted +to adorn their shrines. Sybil looked up—her glance encountered +the fantastical visage. It recalled the features of the +sexton, and seemed to mock her—to revile her. Her fortitude +at once deserted her. Her fingers were upon the handle of +the door. She hesitated: she even drew back, with the intention +of departing, for she felt then that she dared not face +Barbara. It was too late—she had moved the handle. A +deep voice from within called to her by name. She dared not +disobey that call—she entered.</p> + +<p>The room in which Sybil found herself was the only entire +apartment now existing in the priory. It had survived the +ravages of time; it had escaped the devastation of man, whose +ravages outstrip those of time. Octagonal, lofty, yet narrow, +you saw at once that it formed the interior of a turret. It +was lighted by a small oriel window, commanding a lovely view +of the scenery around, and paneled with oak, richly wrought +in ribs and groins; and from overhead depended a molded +ceiling of honeycomb plaster-work. This room had something, +even now, in the days of its desecration, of monastic beauty +about it. Where the odor of sanctity had breathed forth, the +fumes of idolatry prevailed; but imagination, ever on the wing, +flew back to that period—and a tradition to that effect warranted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +the supposition—when, perchance, it had been the sanctuary +and the privacy of the prior's self.</p> + +<p>Wrapped in a cloak composed of the skins of various +animals, upon a low pallet, covered with stained scarlet cloth, +sat Barbara. Around her head was coiffed, in folds like those +of an Asiatic turban, a rich, though faded shawl, and her waist +was encircled with the magic zodiacal zone—proper to the +sorceress—the <i>Mago Cineo</i> of the Cingara—whence the name +Zingaro, according to Moncada—which Barbara had brought +from Spain. From her ears depended long golden drops, of +curious antique fashioning; and upon her withered fingers, +which looked like a coil of lizards, were hooped a multitude of +silver rings, of the purest and simplest manufacture. They +seemed almost of massive unwrought metal. Her skin was +yellow as the body of a toad; corrugated as its back. She +might have been steeped in saffron from her finger tips, the +nails of which were of the same hue, to such portions of her +neck as were visible, and which was puckered up like the +throat of a turtle. To look at her, one might have thought +the embalmer had experimented her art upon herself. So +dead, so bloodless, so blackened seemed the flesh, where flesh +remained, leather could scarce be tougher than her skin. She +seemed like an animated mummy. A frame so tanned, +appeared calculated to endure for ages; and, perhaps, might +have done so. But, alas! the soul cannot be embalmed. No +oil can re-illumine that precious lamp! And that Barbara's +vital spark was fast waning, was evident from her heavy, blood-shot +eyes, once of a swimming black, and lengthy as a witch's, +which were now sinister and sunken.</p> + +<p>The atmosphere of the room was as strongly impregnated +as a museum with volatile odors, emitted from the stores of +drugs with which the shelves were loaded, as well as from +various stuffed specimens of birds and wild animals. Barbara's +only living companion was a monstrous owl, which, perched +over the old gipsy's head, hissed a token of recognition as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +Sybil advanced. From a hook, placed in the plaster roof, +was suspended a globe of crystal glass, about the size and +shape of a large gourd, filled with a pure pellucid liquid, in which +a small snake, the Egyptian aspic, described perpetual gyrations.</p> + +<p>Dim were the eyes of Barbara, yet not altogether sightless. +The troubled demeanor of her grandchild struck her as she +entered. She felt the hot drops upon her hand as Sybil +stooped to kiss it; she heard her vainly-stifled sobs.</p> + +<p>"What ails you, child?" said Barbara, in a voice that rattled +in her throat, and hollow as the articulation of a phantom. +"Have you heard tidings of Luke Bradley? Has any ill befallen +him? I said you would either hear of him or see him +this morning. He is not returned, I see. What have you +heard?"</p> + +<p>"He <i>is</i> returned," replied Sybil, faintly; "and no ill hath +happened to him."</p> + +<p>"He <i>is</i> returned, and you are here," echoed Barbara. +"No ill hath happened to <i>him</i>, thou sayest—am I to understand +there is—to <i>you</i>?"</p> + +<p>Sybil answered not. She could not answer.</p> + +<p>"I see, I see," said Barbara, more gently, her head and +hand shaking with paralytic affection: "a quarrel, a lover's +quarrel. Old as I am, I have not forgotten my feelings as a +girl. What woman ever does, if she be woman? and you, like +your poor mother, are a true-hearted wench. She loved her +husband, as a husband should be loved, Sybil; and though she +loved me well, she loved him better, as was right. Ah! it was +a bitter day when she left me for Spain; for though, to one of +our wandering race, all countries are alike, yet the soil of our +birth is dear to us, and the presence of our kindred dearer. +Well, well, I will not think of that. She is gone. Nay, take +it not so to heart, wench. Luke has a hasty temper. 'Tis +not the first time I have told you so. He will not bear rebuke, +and you have questioned him too shrewdly touching his absence. +Is it not so? Heed it not. Trust me, you will have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +him seek your forgiveness ere the shadows shorten 'neath the +noontide sun."</p> + +<p>"Alas! alas!" said Sybil, sadly, "this is no lover's quarrel, +which may, at once, be forgotten and forgiven—would it were +so!"</p> + +<p>"What is it, then?" asked Barbara; and without waiting +Sybil's answer, she continued, with vehemence, "has he +wronged you? Tell me, girl, in what way? Speak, that I +may avenge you, if your wrong requires revenge. Are you +blood of mine, and think I will not do this for you, girl? +None of the blood of Barbara Lovel were ever unrevenged. +When Richard Cooper stabbed my first-born, Francis, he fled +to Flanders to escape my wrath. But he did not escape it. +I pursued him thither. I hunted him out; drove him back to +his own country, and brought him to the gallows. It took a +power of gold. What matter? Revenge is dearer than gold. +And as it was with Richard Cooper, so it shall be with Luke +Bradley. I will catch him, though he run. I will trip him, +though he leap. I will reach him, though he flee afar. I will +drag him hither by the hair of his head," added she, with a +livid smile, and clutching at the air with her hands, as if in the +act of pulling some one towards her. "He shall wed you +within the hour, if you will have it, or if your honor need that +it should be so. My power is not departed from me. My +people are yet at my command. I am still their queen, and +woe to him that offendeth me!"</p> + +<p>"Mother! mother!" cried Sybil, affrighted at the storm +she had unwittingly aroused, "he has not injured me. 'Tis I +alone who am to blame, not Luke."</p> + +<p>"You speak in mysteries," said Barbara.</p> + +<p>"Sir Piers Rookwood is dead."</p> + +<p>"Dead!" echoed Barbara, letting fall her hazel rod. "Sir +Piers dead!"</p> + +<p>"And Luke Bradley——"</p> + +<p>"Ha!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is his successor."</p> + +<p>"Who told you that?" asked Barbara, with increased astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Luke himself. All is disclosed." And Sybil hastily recounted +Luke's adventures. "He is now Sir Luke Rookwood."</p> + +<p>"This is news, in truth," said Barbara; "yet not news to +weep for. You should rejoice, not lament. Well, well, I foresaw +it. I shall live to see all accomplished; to see my +Agatha's child ennobled; to see her wedded; ay, to see her +well wedded."</p> + +<p>"Dearest mother!"</p> + +<p>"I can endow you, and I will do it. You shall bring your +husband not alone beauty, you shall bring him wealth."</p> + +<p>"But, mother——"</p> + +<p>"My Agatha's daughter shall be Lady Rookwood."</p> + +<p>"Never! It cannot be."</p> + +<p>"What cannot be?"</p> + +<p>"The match you now propose."</p> + +<p>"What mean you, silly wench? Ha! I perceive the meaning +of those tears. The truth flashes upon me. He has discarded +you."</p> + +<p>"No, by the Heaven of Heavens, he is still the same—unaltered +in affection."</p> + +<p>"If so, your tears are out of place."</p> + +<p>"Mother, it is not fitting that I, a gipsy born, should wed +with him."</p> + +<p>"Not fitting! Ha! and you my child! Not fitting! Get +up, or I will spurn you. Not fitting! This from you to me! +I tell you it <i>is</i> fitting; you shall have a dower as ample as that +of any lady in the land. Not fitting! Do you say so, because +you think that he derives himself from a proud and ancient +line—ancient and proud—ha, ha! I tell you, girl, that for +his one ancestor I can number twenty; for the years in which +his lineage hath flourished, my race can boast centuries,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +and was a people—a kingdom!—ere the land in which he +dwells was known. What! if, by the curse of Heaven, we +were driven forth, the curse of hell rests upon his house."</p> + +<p>"I know it," said Sybil; "a dreadful curse, which, if I wed +him, will alight on me."</p> + +<p>"No; not on you; you shall avoid that curse. I know +a means to satisfy the avenger. Leave that to me."</p> + +<p>"I dare not, as it never can be; yet, tell me—you saw the +body of Luke's ill-fated mother. Was she poisoned? Nay, +you may speak. Sir Piers's death releases you from your +oath. How died she?"</p> + +<p>"By strangulation," said the old gipsy, raising her palsied +hand to her throat.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried Sybil, gasping with horror. "Was there a +ring upon her finger when you embalmed the body?"</p> + +<p>"A ring—a wedding-ring! The finger was crookened. +Listen, girl, I could have told Luke the secret of his birth +long ago, but the oath imposed by Sir Piers sealed fast my +lips. His mother was wedded to Sir Piers; his mother was +murdered by Sir Piers. Luke was entrusted to my care by his +father. I have brought him up with you. I have affianced you +together; and I shall live to see you united. He is now Sir +Luke. He is your husband."</p> + +<p>"Do not deceive yourself, mother," said Sybil, with a fearful +earnestness. "He is not yet Sir Luke Rookwood; would +he had no claim to be so! The fortune that has hitherto +been so propitious may yet desert him. Bethink you of a +prophecy you uttered."</p> + +<p>"A prophecy? Ha!"</p> + +<p>And with slow enunciation Sybil pronounced the mystic +words which she had heard repeated by the sexton.</p> + +<p>As she spoke, a gloom, like that of a thunder-cloud, began +to gather over the brow of the old gipsy. The orbs of her +sunken eyes expanded, and wrath supplied her frame with +vigor. She arose.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who told you that?" cried Barbara.</p> + +<p>"Luke's grandsire, Peter Bradley."</p> + +<p>"How learnt he it?" said Barbara. "It was to one who +hath long been in his grave I told it; so long ago, it had +passed from my memory. 'Tis strange! old Sir Reginald +had a brother, I know. But there is no other of the +house."</p> + +<p>"There is a cousin, Eleanor Mowbray."</p> + +<p>"Ha! I see; a daughter of that Eleanor Rookwood who +fled from her father's roof. Fool, fool. Am I caught in my +own toils? Those words were words of truth and power, and +compel the future and 'the will be' as with chains of brass. +They must be fulfilled, yet not by Ranulph. He shall never +wed Eleanor."</p> + +<p>"Whom then shall she wed?"</p> + +<p>"His elder brother."</p> + +<p>"Mother!" shrieked Sybil. "Do you say so? Oh! +recall your words."</p> + +<p>"I may not; it is spoken. Luke shall wed her."</p> + +<p>"Oh God, support me!" exclaimed Sybil.</p> + +<p>"Silly wench, be firm. It must be as I say. He shall wed +her—yet shall he wed her not. The nuptial torch shall be +quenched as soon as lighted; the curse of the avenger shall fall—yet +not on thee."</p> + +<p>"Mother," said Sybil, "if sin must fall upon some innocent +head, let it be on mine—not upon hers. I love him, I +would gladly die for him. She is young—unoffending—perhaps +happy. Oh! do not let her perish."</p> + +<p>"Peace, I say!" cried Barbara, "and mark me. This is +your birthday. Eighteen summers have flown over your young +head—eighty winters have sown their snows on mine. <i>You</i> +have yet to learn. Years have brought wrinkles—they have +brought wisdom likewise. To struggle with Fate, I tell you, is +to wrestle with Omnipotence. We may foresee, but not avert +our destiny. What will be, shall be. This is your eighteenth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +birthday, Sybil: it is a day of fate to you; in it occurs your +planetary hour—an hour of good or ill, according to your +actions. I have cast your horoscope. I have watched your +natal star; it is under the baleful influence of Scorpion, and +fiery Saturn sheds his lurid glance upon it. Let me see your +hand. The line of life is drawn out distinct and clear—it runs—ha! +what means that intersection? Beware—beware, my +Sybil. Act as I tell you, and you are safe. I will make another +trial, by the crystal bowl. Attend."</p> + +<p>Muttering some strange words, sounding like a spell, Barbara, +with the bifurcate hazel staff which she used as a divining-rod, +described a circle upon the floor. Within this circle +she drew other lines, from angle to angle, forming seven triangles, +the bases of which constituted the sides of a septilateral +figure. This figure she studied intently for a few moments. +She then raised her wand and touched the owl with it. The +bird unfolded its wings, and arose in flight; then slowly circled +round the pendulous globe. Each time it drew nearer, until +at length it touched the glassy bowl with its flapping pinions.</p> + +<p>"Enough!" ejaculated Barbara. And at another motion +from her rod the bird stayed its flight and returned to its +perch.</p> + +<p>Barbara arose. She struck the globe with her staff. The +pure lymph became instantly tinged with crimson, as if blood +had been commingled with it. The little serpent could be seen +within, coiled up and knotted, as in the struggles of death.</p> + +<p>"Again I say, beware!" ejaculated Barbara, solemnly. +"This is ominous of ill."</p> + +<p>Sybil had sunk, from faintness, on the pallet. A knock was +heard at the door.</p> + +<p>"Who is without?" cried Barbara.</p> + +<p>"'Tis I, Balthazar," replied a voice.</p> + +<p>"Thou mayest enter," answered Barbara; and an old man +with a long beard, white as snow, reaching to his girdle, and a +costume which might be said to resemble the raiment of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +Jewish high priest, made his appearance. This venerable personage +was no other than the patrico, or hierophant of the +Canting Crew.</p> + +<p>"I come to tell you that there are strangers—ladies—within +the priory," said the patrico, gravely. "I have searched for +you in vain," continued he, addressing Sybil; "the younger +of them seems to need your assistance."</p> + +<p>"Whence come they?" exclaimed Barbara.</p> + +<p>"They have ridden, I understand, from Rookwood," answered +the patrico. "They were on their way to Davenham, +when they were prevented."</p> + +<p>"From Rookwood?" echoed Sybil. "Their names—did +you hear their names?"</p> + +<p>"Mowbray is the name of both; they are a mother and a +daughter; the younger is called——"</p> + +<p>"Eleanor?" asked Sybil, with an acute foreboding of +calamity.</p> + +<p>"Eleanor is the name, assuredly," replied the patrico, somewhat +surprised. "I heard the elder, whom I guess to be her +mother, so address her."</p> + +<p>"Gracious God! She here!" exclaimed Sybil.</p> + +<p>"Here! Eleanor Mowbray here," cried Barbara; "within +my power. Not a moment is to be lost. Balthazar, hasten +round the tents—not a man must leave his place—above all, +Luke Bradley. See that these Mowbrays are detained within +the abbey. Let the bell be sounded. Quick, quick; leave +this wench to me; she is not well. I have much to do. +Away with thee, man, and let me know when thou hast done +it." And as Balthazar departed on his mission, with a glance +of triumph in her eyes, Barbara exclaimed, "Soh, no sooner +hath the thought possessed me, than the means of accomplishment +appear. It shall be done at once. I will tie the knot. +I will untie, and then retie it. This weak wench must be +nerved to the task," added she, regarding the senseless form +of Sybil. "Here is that will stimulate her," opening the cupboard,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +and taking a small phial; "this will fortify her; and +this," continued she, with a ghastly smile, laying her hand +upon another vessel, "this shall remove her rival when +all is fulfilled; this liquid shall constrain her lover to be her +titled, landed husband. Ha, ha!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V3" id="CHAPTER_V3"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>THE INAUGURATION</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Beggar.</i> Concert, sir! we have musicians, too, among us. True, merry +beggars, indeed, that, being within the reach of the lash for singing +libellous songs at London, were fain to fly into one cover, and here +they sing all our poets' ditties. They can sing anything, most tunably, +sir, but psalms. What they may do hereafter, under a triple tree, is +much expected; but they live very civilly and genteelly among us.</p> + +<p><i>Spring.</i> But what is here—that solemn old fellow, that neither speaks +of himself, or any for him?</p> + +<p><i>Beggar.</i> O, sir, the rarest man of all: he is a prophet. See how he +holds up his prognosticating nose. He is divining now.</p> + +<p><i>Spring.</i> How, a prophet?</p> + +<p><i>Beggar.</i> Yes, sir; a cunning man, and a fortune-teller; a very ancient +stroller all the world over, and has travelled with gipsies: and is a patrico.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><i>The Merry Beggars.</i></p></div> + + +<p>In consequence of some few words which the sexton let fall +in the presence of the attendants, during breakfast, more perhaps +by design than accident, it was speedily rumored throughout +the camp that the redoubted Richard Turpin was for the +time its inmate. This intelligence produced some such sensation +as is experienced by the inhabitants of a petty town on +the sudden arrival of a prince of the blood, a commander-in-chief, +or other illustrious and distinguished personage, whose +fame has been vaunted abroad amongst his fellowmen by +Rumor, "and her thousand tongues;" and who, like our +highwayman, has rendered himself sufficiently notorious to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +an object of admiration and emulation amongst his contemporaries.</p> + +<p>All started up at the news. The upright man, the chief of +the crew, arose from his chair, donned his gown of state, a +very ancient brocade dressing-gown, filched, most probably, +from the wardrobe of some strolling player, grasped his baton +of office, a stout oaken truncheon, and sallied forth. The +ruffler, who found his representative in a very magnificently +equipped, and by no means ill-favored knave, whose chin was +decorated with a beard as lengthy and as black as Sultan Mahmoud's, +together with the dexterous hooker, issued forth from +the hovel which they termed their boozing ken, eager to catch +a glimpse of the prince of the high-tobygloaks. The limping +palliard tore the bandages from his mock wounds, shouldered +his crutch, and trudged hastily after them. The whip-jack +unbuckled his strap, threw away his timber leg, and "leapt +exulting, like the bounding roe." "With such a sail in sight," +he said, "he must heave to, like the rest." The dummerar, +whose tongue had been cut out by the Algerines, suddenly +found the use of it, and made the welkin ring with his shouts. +Wonderful were the miracles Dick's advent wrought. The +lame became suddenly active, the blind saw, the dumb spoke; +nay, if truth must be told, absolutely gave utterance to "most +vernacular execrations." Morts, autem morts, walking morts, +dells, doxies, kinching morts, and their coes, with all the shades +and grades of the Canting Crew, were assembled. There were, +to use the words of Brome—</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 23em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">——Stark, errant, downright beggars. Ay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without equivocation, statute beggars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Couchant and passant, guardant, rampant beggars;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Current and vagrant, stockant, whippant beggars!<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Each sunburnt varlet started from his shed; each dusky +dame, with her brown, half-naked urchins, followed at his heels;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +each "ripe young maiden, with the glossy eye," lingered but +to sleek her raven tresses, and to arrange her straw bonnet, and +then overtook the others; each wrinkled beldame hobbled as +quickly after as her stiffened joints would permit; while the +ancient patrico, the priest of the crew—who joined the couples +together by the hedge-side, "with the nice custom of dead +horse between"<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a>—brought up the rear; all bent on one grand +object, that of having a peep at the "foremost man of all this +prigging world!"</p> + +<p>Dick Turpin, at the period of which we treat, was in the +zenith of his reputation. His deeds were full blown; his +exploits were in every man's mouth; and a heavy price was set +upon his head. That he should show himself thus openly, +where he might be so easily betrayed, excited no little surprise +among the craftiest of the crew, and augured an excess of +temerity on his part. Rash daring was the main feature of Turpin's +character. Like our great Nelson, he knew fear only by +name; and when he thus trusted himself in the hands of +strangers, confident in himself and in his own resources, he felt +perfectly easy as to the result. He relied also in the continuance +of his good fortune, which had as yet never deserted him. +Possessed of the belief that his hour was not yet come, he +cared little or nothing for any risk he might incur; and though +he might, undoubtedly, have some presentiment of the probable +termination of his career, he never suffered it to militate against +his present enjoyment, which proved that he was no despicable +philosopher.</p> + +<p>Turpin was the <i>ultimus Romanorum</i>, the last of a race, +which—we were almost about to say we regret—is now altogether +extinct. Several successors he had, it is true, but no name +worthy to be recorded after his own. With him expired the +chivalrous spirit which animated successively the bosoms of so +many knights of the road; with him died away that passionate +love of enterprise, that high spirit of devotion to the fair sex, +which was first breathed upon the highway by the gay, gallant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +Claude Du-Val, the Bayard of the road—<i>Le filou sans peur et +sans reproche</i>—but which was extinguished at last by the cord +that tied the heroic Turpin to the remorseless tree. It were a +subject well worthy of inquiry, to trace this decline and fall of +the empire of the tobymen to its remoter causes; to ascertain +the why and the wherefore, that with so many half-pay captains; +so many poor curates; so many lieutenants, of both +services, without hopes of promotion; so many penny-a-liners, +and fashionable novelists; so many damned dramatists, and +damning critics; so many Edinburgh and Quarterly Reviewers; +so many detrimental brothers, and younger sons; when there +are horses to be hired, pistols to be borrowed, purses to be taken, +and mails are as plentiful as partridges—it were worth serious +investigation, we repeat, to ascertain why, with the best +material imaginable for a new race of highwaymen, we have +none, not even an amateur. Why do not some of these choice +spirits quit the <i>salons</i> of Pall-Mall, and take to the road? the +air of the heath is more bracing and wholesome, we should +conceive, than that of any "hell" whatever, and the chances +of success incomparably greater. We throw out this hint, without +a doubt of seeing it followed up. Probably the solution +of our inquiry may be, that the supply is greater than the +demand; that, in the present state of things, embryo highwaymen +may be more abundant than purses; and then, have we not +the horse-patrol? With such an admirably-organized system of +conservation, it is vain to anticipate a change. The highwaymen, +we fear, like their Irish brothers, the Rapparees, went out +with the Tories. They were averse to reform, and eschewed +emancipation.</p> + +<p>Lest any one should think we have overrated the pleasures +of the highwayman's existence, they shall hear what "the right +villainous" Jack Hall, a celebrated tobyman of his day, has got +to say on the subject. "His life—the highwayman's—has, +generally, the most mirth and the least care in it of any +man's breathing, and all he deals for is clear profit: he has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +that point of good conscience, that he always sells as he buys, +a good pennyworth, which is something rare, since he trades +with so small a stock. The <i>fence</i><a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> and he are like the devil +and the doctor, they live by one another; and, like traitors, +'tis best to keep each other's counsel. He has this point of +honesty, that he never robs the house he frequents"—Turpin +had the same scruples respecting the Hall of Rookwood in Sir +Piers's lifetime—; "and perhaps pays his debts better than +some others, for he holds it below the dignity of his employment +to commit so ungenteel a crime as insolvency, and loves +to pay nobly. He has another quality, not much amiss, that +he takes no more than he has occasion for"—Jack, we think, +was a little mistaken here—; "which he verifies this way: he +craves no more while that lasts. He is a less nuisance in a +commonwealth than a miser, because the money he engrosses +all circulates again, which the other hoards as though 'twere +only to be found again at the day of judgment. He is the +tithe-pig of his family, which the gallows, instead of the parson, +claims as its due. He has reason enough to be bold in his +undertakings, for, though all the world threaten him, he stands +in fear of but one man in it, and that's the hangman; and +with him, too, he is generally in fee: however, I cannot affirm +he is so valiant that he dares look any man in the face, for in +that point he is now and then, a little modest. Newgate may +be said to be his country-house, where he frequently lives so +many months in the year; and he is not so much concerned +to be carried thither for a small matter, if 'twere only for the +benefit of renewing his acquaintance there. He holds a petit +larceny as light as a nun does auricular confession, though +the priest has a more compassionate character than the hangman. +Every man in this community is esteemed according to his +particular quality, of which there are several degrees, though it +is contrary often to public government; for here a man shall +be valued purely for his merit, and rise by it too, though it be +but to a halter, in which there is a great deal of glory in dying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +like a hero, and making a decent figure in the cart to the last +two staves of the fifty-first psalm."<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a></p> + +<p>This, we repeat, is the plain statement of a practical man, +and again we throw out the hint for adoption. All we regret +is, that we are now degenerated from the grand tobyman to +the cracksman and the sneak, about whom there are no redeeming +features. How much lower the next generation of thieves +will dive it boots not to conjecture:</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 14em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ætas parentum pejor avis tulit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nos nequiores; mox daturos,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Progeniem vitiosiorem.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"Cervantes laughed Spain's chivalry away," sang Byron; +and if Gay did not extinguish the failing flame of our <i>night</i> +errantry—unlike the "Robbers" of Schiller, which is said to +have inflamed the Saxon youth with an irrepressible mania for +brigandage—, the "Beggar's Opera" helped not to fan the +dying fire. That laugh was fatal, as laughs generally are. Macheath +gave the highwayman his <i>coup de grâce</i>.</p> + +<p>The last of this race—for we must persist in maintaining that +he <i>was</i> the last—, Turpin, like the setting sun, threw up some +parting rays of glory, and tinged the far highways with a luster +that may yet be traced like a cloud of dust raised by his horse's +retreating heels. Unequalled in the command of his steed, +the most singular feat that the whole race of the annals of +horsemanship has to record, and of which we may have more +to say hereafter, was achieved by him. So perfect was his +jockeyship, so clever his management of the animal he mounted, +so intimately acquainted was he with every cross-road in the +neighborhood of the metropolis—a book of which he constructed, +and carried constantly about his person—, as well as with many +other parts of England, particularly the counties of Chester, +York, and Lancaster, that he outstripped every pursuer, and +baffled all attempts at capture. His reckless daring, his restless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +rapidity—for so suddenly did he change his ground, and +renew his attacks in other quarters, that he seemed to be +endowed with ubiquity,—his bravery, his resolution, and, above +all, his generosity, won for him a high reputation amongst his +compatriots, and even elicited applauses from those upon whom +he levied his contributions.</p> + +<p>Beyond dispute, he ruled as master of the road. His hands +were, as yet, unstained with blood; he was ever prompt to +check the disposition to outrage, and to prevent, as much as +lay in his power, the commission of violence by his associates. +Of late, since he had possessed himself of his favorite mare, +Black Bess, his robberies had been perpetrated with a suddenness +of succession, and at distances so apparently impracticable, +that the idea of all having been executed by one man, +was rejected as an impossibility; and the only way of reconciling +the description of the horse and rider, which tallied in +each instance, was the supposition that these attacks were +performed by confederates similarly mounted and similarly +accoutred.</p> + +<p>There was, in all this, as much of the "<i>famæ sacra fames</i>" +as of the "<i>auri</i>;" of the hungering after distinction, as well as +of the appetite of gain. Enamored of his vocation, Turpin +delighted to hear himself designated as the Flying Highwayman; +and it was with rapturous triumph that he found his +single-handed feats attributed to a band of marauders. But +this state of things could not long endure; his secret was +blown; the vigilance of the police was aroused; he was tracked +to his haunts; and, after a number of hairbreadth 'scapes, +which he only effected by miracle, or by the aid of his wonder-working +mare, he reluctantly quitted the heathy hills of Bagshot, +the Pampas plains of Hounslow—over which like an archetype +of the galloping Sir Francis Head, he had so often +scoured,—the gorsy commons of Highgate, Hampstead, and +Finchley, the marshy fields of Battersea, almost all of which he +had been known to visit in a single night, and leaving these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +beaten tracks to the occupation of younger and less practised +hands, he bequeathed to them, at the same time, his own +reversionary interest in the gibbets thereupon erected, and +betook himself to the country.</p> + +<p>After a journey of more or less success, our adventurer found +himself at Rookwood, whither he had been invited after a +grand field-day by its hospitable and by no means inquisitive +owner. Breach of faith and good fellowship formed no part +of Turpin's character; he had his lights as well as his shades; +and as long as Sir Piers lived, his purse and coffers would have +been free from molestation, except, "so far," Dick said, "as +a cog or two of dice went. My dice, you know, are longs for +odd and even, a bale of bar'd cinque deuces," a pattern of +which he always carried with him; beyond this, excepting a +take-in at a steeple chase, Rookwood church being the mark, +a "do" at a leap, or some such trifle, to which the most scrupulous +could not raise an objection, Dick was all fair and above-board. +But when poor Sir Piers had "put on his wooden +surtout," to use Dick's own expressive metaphor, his conscientious +scruples evaporated into thin air. Lady Rookwood +was nothing to him; there was excellent booty to be appropriated—</p> + +<p class="hd4">The wise <i>convey</i> it call.</p> + +<p>He began to look about for hands; and having accidentally +encountered his old comrades, Rust and Wilder, they were let +into the business, which was imperfectly accomplished in the +manner heretofore described.</p> + +<p>To return from this digression. When Turpin presented +himself at the threshold of the door, on his way to inquire after +his mare, to his astonishment he found it closely invested. A +cheering shout from the tawny throng, succeeded by a general +clapping of hands, and attended by a buzzing susurration of +applause, such as welcomes the entrance of a popular actor +upon the stage, greeted the appearance of the highwayman.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +At the first sight of the crowd he was a little startled, and +involuntarily sought for his pistols. But the demonstrations of +admiration were too unequivocal to be for a moment mistaken; +his hand was drawn from his pocket to raise his hat from his +brow.</p> + +<p>Thunders of applause.</p> + +<p>Turpin's external man, we have before said, was singularly +prepossessing. It was especially so in the eyes of <i>the</i> sex—fair +we certainly cannot say upon the present occasion—, amongst +whom not a single dissentient voice was to be heard. All concurred +in thinking him a fine fellow; could plainly read his +high courage in his bearing; his good breeding in his débonnaire +deportment; and his manly beauty in his extravagant +red whiskers. Dick saw the effect that he produced. He +was at home in a moment. Your true highwayman has ever a +passion for effect. This does not desert him at the gallows; +it rises superior to death itself, and has been known to influence +the manner of his dangling from the gibbet! To hear some +one cry, "There goes a proper handsome man," saith our +previously quoted authority, Jack Hall, "somewhat ameliorates +the terrible thoughts of the meagre tyrant death; and to go in +a dirty shirt were enough to save the hangman a labor, and +make a man die with grief and shame at being in that deplorable +condition." With a gracious smile of condescension, like a +popular orator—with a look of blarney like that of O'Connell, +and of assurance like that of Hume—he surveyed the male +portion of the spectators, tipped a knowing wink at the +prettiest brunettes he could select, and finally cut a sort of +fling with his well-booted legs, that brought down another +appeal of rapturous applause.</p> + +<p>"A rank scamp!"<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> cried the upright man; and this exclamation, +however equivocal it may sound, was intended, on his +part, to be highly complimentary.</p> + +<p>"I believe ye," returned the ruffler, stroking his chin—"one +may see that he's no half swell by the care with which he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +cultivates the best gifts of nature, his whiskers. He's a rank +nib."<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a></p> + +<p>"Togged out to the ruffian, no doubt," said the palliard, +who was incomparably the shabbiest rascal in the corps. +"Though a needy mizzler mysel, I likes to see a cove vot's +vel dressed. Jist twig his swell kickseys and pipes;<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> if they +ain't the thing, I'm done. Lame Harry can't dance better +nor he—no, nor Jerry Juniper neither."</p> + +<p>"I'm dumb founded," roared the dummerar, "if he can't +patter romany<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> as vel as the best on us! He looks like a +rum 'un."</p> + +<p>"And a rum 'un he be, take my word for it," returned the +whip-jack, or sham sailor. "Look at his rigging—see how he +flashes his sticks<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a>—those are the tools to rake a three-decker. +He's as clever a craft as I've seen this many a day, or I'm no +judge."</p> + +<p>The women were equally enchanted—equally eloquent in +the expression of their admiration.</p> + +<p>"What ogles!" cried a mort.</p> + +<p>"What pins!" said an autem mort, or married woman.</p> + +<p>"Sharp as needles," said a dark-eyed dell, who had +encountered one of the free and frolicsome glances which +our highwayman distributed so liberally among the petticoats.</p> + +<p>It was at this crisis Dick took off his hat. Cæsar betrayed +his baldness.</p> + +<p>"A thousand pities!" cried the men, compassionating his +thinly covered skull, and twisting their own ringlets, glossy and +luxuriant, though unconscious of Macassar. "A thousand +pities that so fine a fellow should have a sconce like a cocoanut!"</p> + +<p>"But then his red whiskers," rejoined the women, tired of +the uniformity of thick black heads of hair; "what a warmth +of coloring they impart to his face; and then only look how +beautifully bushy they make his cheeks appear!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p> + +<p>La Fosseuse and the court of the Queen of Navarre were +not more smitten with the Sieur de Croix's jolly pair of +whiskers.</p> + +<p>The hawk's eye of Turpin ranged over the whole assemblage. +Amidst that throng of dark faces there was not one familiar to +him.</p> + +<p>Before him stood the upright man, Zoroaster—so was he +called—, a sturdy, stalwart rogue, whose superior strength and +stature—as has not unfrequently been the case in the infancy of +governments that have risen to more importance than is likely +to be the case with that of Lesser Egypt—had been the means +of his elevation to his present dignified position. Zoroaster +literally <i>fought</i> his way upwards, and had at first to maintain +his situation by the strong arm; but he now was enabled to +repose upon his hard-won laurels, to smoke "the calumet of +peace," and quaff his tipple with impunity. For one of gipsy +blood, he presented an unusually jovial, liquor-loving countenance: +his eye was mirthful; his lip moist, as if from oft +potations; his cheek mellow as an Orleans plum, which fruit, in +color and texture, it mightily resembled. Strange to say, also, for +one of that lithe race, his person was heavy and hebetudinous; +the consequence, no doubt, of habitual intemperance. +Like Cribb, he waxed obese upon the championship. There +was a kind of mock state in his carriage, as he placed +himself before Turpin, and with his left hand twisted up the +tail of his dressing-gown, while the right thrust his truncheon +into his hip, which was infinitely diverting to the highwayman.</p> + +<p>Turpin's attention, however, was chiefly directed towards his +neighbor, the ruffler, in whom he recognized a famous impostor +of the day, with whose history he was sufficiently well +acquainted to be able at once to identify the individual. We +have before stated, that a magnificent coal-black beard +decorated the chin of this worthy; but this was not all—his +costume was in perfect keeping with his beard, and consisted +of a very theatrical-looking tunic, upon the breast of which was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +embroidered, in golden wire, the Maltese cross; while over +his shoulders were thrown the folds of an ample cloak of Tyrian +hue. To his side was girt a long and doughty sword, which he +termed, in his knightly phrase, Excalibur; and upon his profuse +hair rested a hat as broad in the brim as a Spanish sombrero.</p> + +<p>Exaggerated as this description may appear, we can assure +our readers that it is not overdrawn; and that a counterpart +of the sketch we have given of the ruffler certainly "strutted +his hour" upon the stage of human life, and that the very +ancient and discriminating city of Canterbury—to which be all +honor—was his theatre of action. His history is so far curious, +that it exemplifies, more strongly than a thousand discourses +could do, how prone we are to be governed by appearances, +and how easily we may be made the dupes of a plausible +impostor. Be it remembered, however, that we treat of the +eighteenth century, before the march of intellect had commenced; +we are much too knowing to be similarly practised +upon in these enlightened times. But we will let the knight +of Malta, for such was the title assumed by the ruffler, tell his +own story in his own way hereafter; contenting ourselves with +the moral precepts we have already deduced from it.</p> + +<p>Next to the knight of Malta stood the whip-jack, habited in +his sailor gear—striped shirt and dirty canvas trousers; and +adjoining him was the palliard, a loathsome tatterdemalion, +his dress one heap of rags, and his discolored skin one mass of +artificial leprosy and imposthumes.</p> + +<p>As Turpin's eye shifted from one to another of these figures, +he chanced upon an individual who had been long endeavoring +to arrest his attention. This personage was completely in +the background. All that Dick could discern of him was a +brown curly head of hair, carelessly arranged in the modern +mode; a handsome, impudent, sun-freckled face, with one eye +closed, and the other occupied by a broken bottle-neck, +through which, as a substitute for a lorgnette, the individual reconnoitered +him. A cocked hat was placed in a very <i>dégagée</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +manner under his arm, and he held an ebony cane in his hand, +very much in the style of a "<i>fassionable</i>," as the French have +it, of the present day. This glimpse was sufficient to satisfy +Turpin. He recognized in this whimsical personage an +acquaintance.</p> + +<p>Jerry Juniper was what the classical Captain Grose would +designate a "gentleman with three outs," and, although he +was not entirely without wit, nor, his associates avouched, without +money, nor, certainly, in his own opinion, had that been +asked, without manners; yet was he assuredly without shoes, +without stockings, without shirt. This latter deficiency was +made up by a voluminous cravat, tied with proportionately +large bows. A jaunty pair of yellow breeches, somewhat faded; +a waistcoat of silver brocade, richly embroidered, somewhat +tarnished and lack-lustre; a murrey-colored velvet coat, somewhat +chafed, completed the costume of this beggar Brummell, +this mendicant macaroni!</p> + +<p>Jerry Juniper was a character well known at the time, as a +constant frequenter of all races, fairs, regattas, ship-launches, +bull-baits, and prize-fights, all of which he attended, and to +which he transported himself with an expedition little less +remarkable than that of Turpin. You met him at Epsom, at +Ascot, at Newmarket, at Doncaster, at the Roodee of Chester, +at the Curragh of Kildare. The most remote as well as the +most adjacent meeting attracted him. The cock-pit was his +constant haunt, and in more senses than one was he a <i>leg</i>. No +opera-dancer could be more agile, more nimble; scarcely, +indeed, more graceful, than was Jerry, with his shoeless and +stockingless feet; and the manner in which he executed a +pirouette, or a pas, before a line of carriages, seldom failed to +procure him "golden opinions from all sorts of dames." With +the ladies, it must be owned, Jerry was rather upon too easy +terms; but then, perhaps, the ladies were upon too easy terms +with Jerry; and if a bright-eyed fair one condescended to jest +with him, what marvel if he should sometimes slightly transgress<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +the laws of decorum. These aberrations, however, were +trifling; altogether he was so well known, and knew everybody +else so well, that he seldom committed himself; and, singular +to say, could on occasions even be serious. In addition to his +other faculties, no one cut a sly joke, or trolled a merry ditty, +better than Jerry. His peculiarities, in short, were on the +pleasant side, and he was a general favorite in consequence.</p> + +<p>No sooner did Jerry perceive that he was recognized, than, +after kissing his hand, with the air of a <i>petit-maître</i>, to the +highwayman, he strove to edge his way through the crowd. +All his efforts were fruitless; and, tired of a situation in the +rear rank, so inconsistent, he conceived, with his own importance, +he had recourse to an expedient often practised with +success in harlequinades, and not unfrequently in real life, +where a flying leap is occasionally taken over our heads. He +ran back a few yards to give himself an impetus, returned, +and, placing his hands upon the shoulders of a stalwart vagabond +near to him, threw a summerset upon the broad cap of +a palliard, who was so jammed in the midst that he could not +have stirred to avoid the shock; thence, without pausing, he +vaulted forwards, and dropped lightly upon the ground in front +of Zoroaster, and immediately before the highwayman.</p> + +<p>Dick laughed immoderately at Jerry's manœuvre. He +shook his old chum cordially by the hand, saying, in a +whisper, "What the devil brings you here, Jerry?"</p> + +<p>"I might retort, and ask you that question, Captain Turpin," +replied Jerry, <i>sotto voce</i>. "It is odd to see me here, +certainly—quite out of my element—lost amongst this <i>canaille</i>—this +Canting Crew—all the fault of a pair of gipsy eyes, +bright as a diamond, dark as a sloe. You comprehend—a +little affair, ha! Liable to these things. Bring your ear +closer, my boy; be upon your guard—keep a sharp look out—there's +a devil of a reward upon your head—I won't answer +for all those rascals."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for the hint, Jerry," replied Dick, in the same<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +tone. "I calculated my chances pretty nicely when I came +here. But if I should perceive any symptoms of foul play—any +attempt to snitch or nose, amongst this pack of peddlers—I +have a friend or two at hand, who won't be silent upon +the occasion. Rest assured I shall have my eye upon the +gnarling scoundrels. I won't be sold for nothing."</p> + +<p>"Trust you for that," returned Juniper, with a wink. +"Stay," added he; "a thought strikes me. I have a scheme +<i>in petto</i> which may, perhaps, afford you some fun, and will, at +all events, insure your safety during your stay."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Dick.</p> + +<p>"Just amuse yourself with a flirtation for a moment or two +with that pretty damsel, who has been casting her ogles at you +for the last five minutes without success, while I effect a master-stroke."</p> + +<p>And as Turpin, nothing loth, followed his advice, Jerry +addressed himself to Zoroaster. After a little conference, accompanied +by that worthy and the knight of Malta, the trio +stepped forward from the line, and approached Dick, when +Juniper, assuming some such attitude as our admirable Jones, +the comedian, is wont to display, delivered himself of the +following address. Turpin listened with the gravity of one of +the distinguished persons alluded to, at the commencement of +the present chapter, upon their receiving the freedom of the city +at the hands of a mayor and corporation. Thus spoke Jerry:</p> + +<p>"Highest of High-Tobymen! rummest of rum Padders, and +most scampish of Scampsmen! We, in the name of Barbara, +our most tawny queen; in the name of Zoroaster, our Upright +Man, Dimber Damber, or Olli Campolli, by all which titles his +excellency is distinguished; in our own respective names, as +High Pads and Low Pads, Rum Gills and Queer Gills, Patricos, +Palliards, Priggers, Whip-Jacks, and Jarkmen, from the Arch +Rogue to the Needy Mizzler, fully sensible of the honor you +have conferred upon us in gracing Stop-Hole Abbey with your +presence; and conceiving that we can in no way evince our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +sense of your condescension so entirely as by offering you the +freedom of our crew, together with the privileges of an Upright +Man,<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> which you may be aware are considerable, and by +creating you an honorary member of the Vagrant Club, which +we have recently established; and in so doing, we would fain +express the sentiments of gratification and pride which we experience +in enrolling among our members one who has extended +the glory of roguery so widely over the land, and who has +kicked up such a dust upon the highways of England, as most +effectually to blind the natives—one who is in himself a legion—of +highwaymen! Awaiting, with respectful deference, the +acquiescence of Captain Richard Turpin, we beg to tender +him the freedom of our crew."</p> + +<p>"Really, gentlemen," said Turpin, who did not exactly see +the drift of this harangue, "you do me a vast deal of honor. +I am quite at a loss to conceive how I can possibly have +merited so much attention at your hands; and, indeed, I feel +myself so unworthy——" Here Dick received an expressive +wink from Juniper, and therefore thought it prudent to alter +his expression. "Could I suppose myself at all deserving of +so much distinction," continued the modest speaker, "I should +at once accept your very obliging offer; but——"</p> + +<p>"None so worthy," said the upright man.</p> + +<p>"Can't hear of a refusal," said the knight of Malta.</p> + +<p>"Refusal—impossible!" reiterated Juniper.</p> + +<p>"No; no refusal," exclaimed a chorus of voices. "Dick +Turpin must be one of us. He shall be our dimber damber."</p> + +<p>"Well, gentlemen, since you are so pressing," replied Turpin, +"even so be it. I <i>will</i> be your dimber damber."</p> + +<p>"Bravo! bravo!" cried the mob, <i>not</i> "of gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"About it, pals, at once," said the knight of Malta, flourishing +Excalibur. "By St. Thomas à Becket, we'll have as fine a +scene as I myself ever furnished to the Canterbury lieges."</p> + +<p>"About what?" asked Dick.</p> + +<p>"Your matriculation," replied Jerry. "There are certain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +forms to be gone through, with an oath to be taken, merely a +trifle. We'll have a jolly booze when all's over. Come bing +avast, my merry pals; to the green, to the green: a Turpin! a +Turpin! a new brother!"</p> + +<p>"A Turpin! a Turpin! a new brother!" echoed the crew.</p> + +<p>"I've brought you through," said Jerry, taking advantage of +the uproar that ensued to whisper to his chum; "none of them +will dare to lift a finger against you now. They are all your +friends for life."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless," returned Turpin, "I should be glad to know +what has become of Bess."</p> + +<p>"If it's your prancer you are wanting," chirped a fluttering +creature, whom Turpin recognized as Luke's groom, Grasshopper, +"I gave her a fresh loaf and a stoup of stingo, as +you bade me, and there she be, under yon tree, as quiet as a +lamb."</p> + +<p>"I see her," replied Turpin; "just tighten her girths, Grasshopper, +and bring her after me, and thou shalt have wherewithal +to chirp over thy cups at supper."</p> + +<p>Away bounded the elfin dwarf to execute his behest.</p> + +<p>A loud shout now rent the skies, and presently afterwards +was heard the vile scraping of a fiddle, accompanied by the +tattoo of a drum. Approaching Turpin, a host of gipsies elevated +the highwayman upon their shoulders, and in this way he +was carried to the centre of the green, where the long oaken +table, which had once served the Franciscans for refection, was +now destined for the stage of the pageant.</p> + +<p>Upon this table three drums were placed; and Turpin was +requested to seat himself on the central one. A solemn prelude, +more unearthly than the incantation in the Freyschütz, +was played by the orchestra of the band, conducted by the +Paganini of the place, who elicited the most marvellous notes +from his shell. A couple of shawms<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> emitted sepulchral +sounds, while the hollow rolling of a drum broke ever and anon +upon the ear. The effect was prodigiously fine. During this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +overture the patrico and the upright man had ascended the +rostrum, each taking his place; the former on the right hand +of Turpin, the latter upon his left. Below them stood the +knight of Malta, with Excalibur drawn in his hand, and gleaming +in the sunshine. On the whole, Dick was amused with +what he saw, and with the novel situation in which he found +himself placed. Around the table were congregated a compact +mass of heads; so compact, indeed, that they looked like one +creature—an Argus, with each eye upturned upon the highwayman. +The idea struck Turpin that the restless mass of +parti-colored shreds and patches, of vivid hues and varied tintings, +singularly, though accidentally, disposed to produce such +an effect, resembled an immense tiger-moth, or it might be a +Turkey carpet spread out upon the grass!</p> + +<p>The scene was a joyous one. It was a brilliant sunshiny +morning. Freshened and purified by the storm of the preceding +night, the air breathed a balm upon the nerves and senses +of the robber. The wooded hills were glittering in light; the +brook was flowing swiftly past the edge of the verdant slope, +glancing like a wreathed snake in the sunshine—its "quiet +song" lost in the rude harmony of the mummers, as were the +thousand twitterings of the rejoicing birds; the rocks bared +their bosoms to the sun, or were buried in deep-cast gloom; +the shadows of the pillars and arches of the old walls of the +priory were projected afar, while the rose-like ramifications of +the magnificent marigold window were traced, as if by a pencil, +upon the verdant tablet of the sod.</p> + +<p>The overture was finished. With the appearance of the +principal figures in this strange picture the reader is already +familiar. It remains only to give him some idea of the patrico. +Imagine, then, an old superannuated goat, reared upon its hind +legs, and clad in a white sheet, disposed in folds like those of a +simar about its limbs, and you will have some idea of Balthazar, +the patrico. This resemblance to the animal before mentioned +was rendered the more striking by his huge, hanging, goat-like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +under lip, his lengthy white beard, and a sort of cap, covering +his head, which was ornamented with a pair of horns, such as +are to be seen in Michael Angelo's tremendous statue of Moses. +Balthazar, besides being the patrico of the tribe, was its principal +professor of divination, and had been the long-tried and +faithful minister of Barbara Lovel, from whose secret instructions +he was supposed to have derived much of his magical +skill.</p> + +<p>Placing a pair of spectacles upon his "prognosticating nose," +and unrolling a vellum skin, upon which strange characters +were written, Balthazar, turning to Turpin, thus commenced +in a solemn voice:</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 15em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou who wouldst our brother be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say how we shall enter thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Name the name that thou wilt bear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere our livery thou wear?<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"I see no reason why I should alter my designation," replied +the noviciate; "but as popes change their titles on their +creation, there can be no objection to a scampsman following so +excellent an example. Let me be known as the Night Hawk."</p> + +<p>"The Night Hawk—good," returned the hierophant, proceeding +to register the name upon the parchment. "Kneel +down," continued he.</p> + +<p>After some hesitation, Turpin complied.</p> + +<p>"You must repeat the 'salamon,' or oath of our creed, +after my dictation," said the patrico; and Turpin, signifying +his assent by a nod, Balthazar propounded the following abjuration:</p> + + +<p class="hd1">OATH OF THE CANTING CREW</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I, Crank-Cuffin, swear to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True to this fraternity;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I will in all obey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rule and order of the lay.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Never blow the gab, or squeak;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never snitch to bum or beak;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But religiously maintain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Authority of those who reign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over Stop-Hole Abbey Green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be they tawny king, or queen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In their cause alone will fight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think what they think, wrong or right;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Serve them truly, and no other,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And be faithful to my brother;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suffer none, from far or near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With their rights to interfere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No strange Abram, ruffler crack,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hooker of another pack,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rogue or rascal, frater, maunderer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Irish toyle, or other wanderer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No dimber damber, angler, dancer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prig of cackler, prig of prancer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No swigman, swaddler, clapperdudgeon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cadge-gloak, curtal, or curmudgeon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No whip-jack, palliard, patrico;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No jarkman, be he high or low;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No dummerar, or romany;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No member of "<i>the Family</i>;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No ballad-basket, bouncing buffer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor any other, will I suffer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But stall-off now and for ever,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All outliers whatsoever:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as I keep to the foregone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So may help me Salamon!<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"So help me Salamon!" repeated Turpin, with emphasis.</p> + +<p>"Zoroaster," said the patrico to the upright man, "do thy +part of this ceremonial."</p> + +<p>Zoroaster obeyed; and, taking Excalibur from the knight of +Malta, bestowed a hearty thwack with the blade upon the +shoulders of the kneeling highwayman, assisting him afterwards +to arise.</p> + +<p>The inauguration was complete.</p> + +<p>"Well," exclaimed Dick, "I'm glad it's all over. My leg<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +feels a little stiffish. I'm not much given to kneeling. I +must dance it off;" saying which, he began to shuffle upon +the boards. "I tell you what," continued he, "most reverend +patrico, that same 'salmon' of yours has a cursed long tail. +I could scarce swallow it all, and it's strange if it don't give +me an indigestion. As to you, sage Zory, from the dexterity +with which you flourish your sword, I should say you had +practised at court. His majesty could scarce do the thing +better, when, slapping some fat alderman upon the shoulder, +he bids him arise Sir Richard. And now, pals," added he, +glancing round, "as I am one of you, let's have a booze together +ere I depart, for I don't think my stay will be long in +the land of Egypt."</p> + +<p>This suggestion of Turpin was so entirely consonant to the +wishes of the assemblage, that it met with universal approbation; +and upon a sign from Zoroaster, some of his followers +departed in search of supplies for the carousal. Zoroaster +leaped from the table, and his example was followed by Turpin, +and more leisurely by the patrico.</p> + +<p>It was rather early in the day for a drinking bout. But the +Canting Crew were not remarkably particular. The chairs +were removed, and the jingling of glasses announced the arrival +of the preliminaries of the matutine symposion. Poles, canvas, +and cords were next brought; and in almost as short a space of +time as one scene is substituted for another in a theatrical representation, +a tent was erected. Benches, stools, and chairs +appeared with equal celerity, and the interior soon presented an +appearance like that of a booth at a fair. A keg of brandy was +broached, and the health of the new brother quaffed in brimmers.</p> + +<p>Our highwayman returned thanks. Zoroaster was in the +chair, the knight of Malta acting as croupier. A second toast +was proposed—the tawny queen. This was drunk with a like +enthusiasm, and with a like allowance of the potent spirit; but +as bumpers of brandy are not to be repeated with impunity, it +became evident to the president of the board that he must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +not repeat his toasts quite so expeditiously. To create a temporary +diversion, therefore, he called for a song.</p> + +<p>The dulcet notes of the fiddle now broke through the +clamor; and, in answer to the call, Jerry Juniper volunteered +the following:</p> + +<p class="hd1">JERRY JUNIPER'S CHANT</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 27em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In a box<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> of the stone jug<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> I was born,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a hempen widow<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> the kid forlorn.<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my father, as I've heard say,<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was a merchant of capers<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who cut his last fling with great applause,<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Nix my doll pals, fake away.</i><a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who cut his last fling with great applause,<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the tune of a "hearty choke with caper sauce."<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The knucks in quod<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> did my schoolmen play,<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And put me up to the time of day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until at last there was none so knowing,<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Nix my doll pals, fake away.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Until at last there was none so knowing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No such sneaksman<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> or buzgloak<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> going.<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fogles<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> and fawnies<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> soon went their way,<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the spout<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> with the sneezers<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> in grand array.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No dummy hunter<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> had forks<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> so fly;<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Nix my doll pals, fake away</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No dummy hunter had forks so fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No knuckler<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> so deftly could fake a cly,<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">No slour'd hoxter<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> my snipes<a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> could stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">None knap a reader<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> like me in the lay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon then I mounted in swell-street high.<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Nix my doll pals, fake away.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soon then I mounted in swell-street high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sported my flashiest toggery<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Firmly resolved I would make my hay,<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Mercury's star shed a single ray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ne'er was there seen such a dashing prig,<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Nix my doll pals, fake away.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And ne'er was there seen such a dashing prig,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With my strummel faked in the newest twig.<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With my fawnied famms,<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a> and my onions gay,<a name="FNanchor_61_61" id="FNanchor_61_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My thimble of ridge<a name="FNanchor_62_62" id="FNanchor_62_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a>, and my driz kemesa<a name="FNanchor_63_63" id="FNanchor_63_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All my togs were so niblike<a name="FNanchor_64_64" id="FNanchor_64_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> and splash,<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Nix my doll pals, fake away.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All my togs were so niblike and splash,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Readily the queer screens I then could smash;<a name="FNanchor_65_65" id="FNanchor_65_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But my nuttiest blowen,<a name="FNanchor_66_66" id="FNanchor_66_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a> one fine day,<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the beaks<a name="FNanchor_67_67" id="FNanchor_67_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> did her fancy man betray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus was I bowled out at last<a name="FNanchor_68_68" id="FNanchor_68_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Nix my doll pals, fake away.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And thus was I bowled out at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And into the jug for a lag was cast;<a name="FNanchor_69_69" id="FNanchor_69_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I slipped my darbies<a name="FNanchor_70_70" id="FNanchor_70_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> one morn in May,<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Fake away,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave to the dubsman<a name="FNanchor_71_71" id="FNanchor_71_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a> a holiday.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here I am, pals, merry and free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A regular rollicking romany.<a name="FNanchor_72_72" id="FNanchor_72_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Nix my doll pals, fake away.</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Much laughter and applause rewarded Jerry's attempt to +please; and though the meaning of his chant, even with the +aid of the numerous notes appended to it, may not be quite +obvious to our readers, we can assure them that it was perfectly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> +intelligible to the Canting Crew. Jerry was now entitled to a +call; and happening, at the moment, to meet the fine dark +eyes of a sentimental gipsy, one of that better class of mendicants +who wandered about the country with a guitar at his back, +his election fell upon him. The youth, without prelude, struck +up a</p> + + +<p class="hd1">GIPSY SERENADE</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 31em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Merry maid, merry maid, wilt thou wander with me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We will roam through the forest, the meadow, and lea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We will haunt the sunny bowers, and when day begins to flee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our couch shall be the ferny brake, our canopy the tree.<br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Merry maid, merry maid, come and wander with me!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>No life like the gipsy's, so joyous and free!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Merry maid, merry maid, though a roving life be ours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We will laugh away the laughing and quickly fleeting hours;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our hearts are free, as is the free and open sky above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we know what tamer souls know not, how lovers ought to love.<br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Merry maid, merry maid, come and wander with me!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>No life like the gipsy's so joyous and free!</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Zoroaster now removed the pipe from his upright lips to +intimate his intention of proposing a toast.</p> + +<p>A universal knocking of knuckles by the knucklers<a name="FNanchor_73_73" id="FNanchor_73_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a> was +followed by profound silence. The sage spoke:</p> + +<p>"The city of Canterbury, pals," said he; "and may it never +want a knight of Malta."</p> + +<p>The toast was pledged with much laughter, and in many +bumpers.</p> + +<p>The knight, upon whom all eyes were turned, rose, "with +stately bearing and majestic motion," to return thanks.</p> + +<p>"I return you an infinitude of thanks, brother pals," said he, +glancing round the assemblage; and bowing to the president, +"and to you, most upright Zory, for the honor you have done +me in associating my name with that city. Believe me, I +sincerely appreciate the compliment, and echo the sentiment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +from the bottom of my soul. I trust it never <i>will</i> want a knight +of Malta. In return for your consideration, but a poor one +you will say, you shall have a ditty, which I composed upon +the occasion of my pilgrimage to that city, and which I have +thought proper to name after myself."</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE KNIGHT OF MALTA</p> + +<p class="center"><i>A Canterbury Tale</i><a name="FNanchor_74_74" id="FNanchor_74_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a></p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 31em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come list to me, and you shall have, without a hem or haw, sirs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Canterbury pilgrimage, much better than old Chaucer's.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis of a hoax I once played off upon that city clever,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The memory of which, I hope, will stick to it for ever.<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>With my coal-black beard, and purple cloak,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>jack-boots, and broad-brimmed castor,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i16"><i>Hey-ho! for the knight of Malta!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To execute my purpose, in the first place, you must know, sirs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My locks I let hang down my neck—my beard and whiskers grow, sirs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A purple cloak I next clapped on, a sword lagged to my side, sirs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mounted on a charger black, I to the town did ride, sirs.<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>With my coal-black beard, &c.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Two pages were there by my side, upon two little ponies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Decked out in scarlet uniform, as spruce as macaronies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caparisoned my charger was, as grandly as his master,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er my long and curly locks, I wore a broad-brimmed castor.<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>With my coal-black beard, &c.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The people all flocked forth, amazed to see a man so hairy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh I such a sight had ne'er before been seen in Canterbury!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My flowing robe, my flowing beard, my horse with flowing mane, sirs!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They stared—the days of chivalry, they thought, were come again, sirs!<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>With my coal-black beard, &c.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I told them a long rigmarole romance, that did not halt a<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jot, that they beheld in me a real knight of Malta!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tom à Becket had I sworn I was, that saint and martyr hallowed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I doubt not just as readily the bait they would have swallowed.<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>With my coal-black beard, &c.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I rode about, and speechified, and everybody gullied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tavern-keepers diddled, and the magistracy bullied;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like puppets were the townsfolk led in that show they call a raree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Gotham sages were a joke to those of Canterbury.<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>With my coal-black beard, &c.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The theatre I next engaged, where I addressed the crowd, sirs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on retrenchment and reform I spouted long and loud, sirs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On tithes and on taxation I enlarged with skill and zeal, sirs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who so able as a Malta knight, the malt tax to repeal, sirs.<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>With my coal-black beard, &c.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As a candidate I then stepped forth to represent their city,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my non-election to that place was certainly a pity;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For surely I the fittest was, and very proper, very,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To represent the wisdom and the wit of Canterbury.<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>With my coal-black beard, &c.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At the trial of some smugglers next, one thing I rather queer did,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the justices upon the bench I literally <i>bearded</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I swore that I some casks did see, though proved as clear as day, sirs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I happened at the time to be some fifty miles away, sirs.<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>With my coal-black beard, &c.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This last assertion, I must own, was somewhat of a blunder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for perjury indicted they compelled me to knock under;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my prosperous career this slight error put a stop, sirs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus <i>crossed</i>, the knight of Malta was at length obliged to <i>hop</i>, sirs.<br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>With his coal-black beard, and purple cloak,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>jack-boots, and broad-brimmed castor,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i16"><i>Good-by to the knight of Malta.</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>The knight sat down amidst the general plaudits of the +company.</p> + +<p>The party, meanwhile, had been increased by the arrival of +Luke and the sexton. The former, who was in no mood for +revelry, refused to comply with his grandsire's solicitation to +enter, and remained sullenly at the door, with his arms folded, +and his eyes fixed upon Turpin, whose movements he commanded +through the canvas aperture. The sexton walked up +to Dick, who was seated at the post of honor, and, clapping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> +him upon the shoulder, congratulated him upon the comfortable +position in which he found him.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha! Are you there, my old death's-head on a mop-stick?" +said Turpin, with a laugh. "Ain't we merry mumpers, +eh? Keeping it up in style. Sit down, old Noah—make +yourself comfortable, Methusalem."</p> + +<p>"What say you to a drop of as fine Nantz as you ever tasted +in your life, old cove?" said Zoroaster.</p> + +<p>"I have no sort of objection to it," returned Peter, "provided +you will all pledge my toast."</p> + +<p>"That I will, were it old Ruffin himself," shouted Turpin.</p> + +<p>"Here's to the three-legged mare," cried Peter. "To the +tree that bears fruit all the year round, and yet has neither +bark nor branch. You won't refuse that toast, Captain +Turpin?"</p> + +<p>"Not I," answered Dick; "I owe the gallows no grudge. +If, as Jerry's song says, I must have a 'hearty choke and caper +sauce' for my breakfast one of these fine mornings, it shall +never be said that I fell to my meal without appetite, or +neglected saying grace before it. Gentlemen, here's Peter +Bradley's toast: 'The scragging post—the three-legged mare,' +with three times three."</p> + +<p>Appropriate as this sentiment was, it did not appear to be +so inviting to the party as might have been anticipated, and +the shouts soon died away.</p> + +<p>"They like not the thoughts of the gallows," said Turpin +to Peter. "More fools they. A mere bugbear to frighten +children, believe me; and never yet alarmed a brave man. +The gallows, pshaw! One can but die once, and what signifies +it how, so that it be over quickly. I think no more of the last +leap into eternity than clearing a five-barred gate. A rope's +end for it! So let us be merry, and make the most of our +time, and that's true philosophy. I know you can throw off +a rum chant," added he, turning to Peter. "I heard you sing +last night at the hall. Troll us a stave, my antediluvian file,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +and, in the meantime, tip me a gage of fogus,<a name="FNanchor_75_75" id="FNanchor_75_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a> Jerry; and if +that's a bowl of huckle-my-butt<a name="FNanchor_76_76" id="FNanchor_76_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a> you are brewing, Sir William," +added he, addressing the knight of Malta, "you may send me +a jorum at your convenience."</p> + +<p>Jerry handed the highwayman a pipe, together with a tumbler +of the beverage which the knight had prepared, which he pronounced +excellent; and while the huge bowl was passed +round to the company, a prelude of shawms announced that +Peter was ready to break into song.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, after the symphony was ended, accompanied +at intervals by a single instrument, Peter began his melody, in +a key so high, that the utmost exertions of the shawm-blower +failed to approach its altitudes. The burden of his minstrelsy +was</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE MANDRAKE<a name="FNanchor_77_77" id="FNanchor_77_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a></p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 26em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0" title="Môly de min kaleousi theoi, chalnpon de t' oryssein">Μῶλύ δέ μιν καλέουσι θεοί, χαλνπὸν δέ τ' ὀρύσσειν<br /></span> +<span class="i0" title="Andrasi ge thnêtoisi theoi, de te panta dynantai.">Ἀνδράσι γε θνητοισι θεοι, δέ τε πάντα δύνανται.<br /></span> +<span class="i20"><span class="smcap">Homerus.</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The mandrake grows 'neath the gallows-tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rank and green are its leaves to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green and rank, as the grass that waves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the unctuous earth of graves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though all around it lie bleak and bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Freely the mandrake flourisheth there.<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Maranatha—Anathema!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i9"><i>Dread is the curse of mandragora!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>Euthanasy!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At the foot of the gibbet the mandrake springs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just where the creaking carcase swings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some have thought it engendered<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the fat that drops from the bones of the dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some have thought it a human thing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But this is a vain imagining.<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Maranatha—Anathema!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i9"><i>Dread is the curse of mandragora!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>Euthanasy!</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A charnel leaf doth the mandrake wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A charnel fruit doth the mandrake bear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet none like the mandrake hath such great power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such virtue resides not in herb or flower;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aconite, hemlock, or moonshade, I ween,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None hath a poison so subtle and keen.<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Maranatha—Anathema!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i9"><i>Dread is the curse of mandragora!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>Euthanasy!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whether the mandrake be create<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flesh with the power incorporate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know not; yet, if from the earth 'tis rent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrieks and groans from the root are sent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrieks and groans, and a sweat like gore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oozes and drops from the clammy core.<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Maranatha—Anathema!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i9"><i>Dread is the curse of mandragora!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>Euthanasy!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whoso gathereth the mandrake shall surely die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blood for blood is his destiny.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some who have plucked it have died with groans,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like to the mandrake's expiring moans;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some have died raving, and some beside—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With penitent prayers—but <i>all</i> have died.<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Jesu! save us by night and day!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>From the terrible death of mandragora!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>Euthanasy!</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"A queer chant that," said Zoroaster, coughing loudly, in +token of disapprobation.</p> + +<p>"Not much to my taste," quoth the knight of Malta. "We +like something more sprightly in Canterbury."</p> + +<p>"Nor to mine," added Jerry; "don't think it's likely to +have an encore. 'Pon my soul, Dick, you must give us something +yourself, or we shall never cry Euthanasy at the Triple +Tree."</p> + +<p>"With all my heart," replied Turpin. "You shall have—but +what do I see, my friend Sir Luke? Devil take my tongue,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +Luke Bradley, I mean. What, ho! Luke—nay, nay, man, no +shrinking—stand forward; I've a word or two to say to you. +We must have a hob-a-nob glass together for old acquaintance +sake. Nay, no airs, man; damme you're not a lord yet, nor +a baronet either, though I do hold your title in my pocket; +never look glum at me. It won't pay. I'm one of the Canting +Crew now; no man shall sneer at me with impunity, eh, +Zory? Ha, ha! here's a glass of Nantz; we'll have a bottle of +black strap when you are master of your own. Make ready +there, you gut-scrapers, you shawm-shavers; I'll put your +lungs in play for you presently. In the meantime—charge, +pals, charge—a toast, a toast! Health and prosperity to Sir +Luke Rookwood! I see you are surprised—this, gemmen, is +Sir Luke Rookwood, somewhile Luke Bradley, heir to the +house of that name, not ten miles distant from this. Say, +shall we not drink a bumper to his health?"</p> + +<p>Astonishment prevailed amongst the crew. Luke himself +had been taken by surprise. When Turpin discovered him +at the door of the tent, and summoned him to appear, he +reluctantly complied with the request; but when, in a half-bantering +vein, Dick began to rally him upon his pretensions, +he would most gladly have retreated, had it been in his power. +It was then too late. He felt he must stand the ordeal. +Every eye was fixed upon him with a look of inquiry.</p> + +<p>Zoroaster took his everlasting pipe from his mouth.</p> + +<p>"This ain't true, sure<i>ly</i>?" asked the perplexed Magus.</p> + +<p>"He has said it," replied Luke; "I may not deny it."</p> + +<p>This was sufficient. There was a wild hubbub of delight +amongst the crew, for Luke was a favorite with all.</p> + +<p>"Sir Luke Rookwood!" cried Jerry Juniper, who liked a +title as much as Tommy Moore is said to dote upon a lord. +"Upon my soul I sincerely congratulate you; devilish fortunate +fellow. Always cursed unlucky myself. I could never find +out my own father, unless it were one Monsieur des Capriolles, +a French dancing-master, and <i>he</i> never left anything behind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +him that I could hear of, except a broken kit and a hempen +widow. Sir Luke Rookwood, we shall do ourselves the +pleasure of drinking your health and prosperity."</p> + +<p>Fresh bumpers and immense cheering.</p> + +<p>Silence being in a measure restored, Zoroaster claimed +Turpin's promise of a song.</p> + +<p>"True, true," replied Dick; "I have not forgotten it. +Stand to your bows, my hearties."</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE GAME OF HIGH TOBY</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 25em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now Oliver<a name="FNanchor_78_78" id="FNanchor_78_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a> puts his black nightcap on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And every star its glim<a name="FNanchor_79_79" id="FNanchor_79_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_79_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a> is hiding,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And forth to the heath is the scampsman<a name="FNanchor_80_80" id="FNanchor_80_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_80_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a> gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His matchless cherry-black<a name="FNanchor_81_81" id="FNanchor_81_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_81_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a> prancer riding;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Merrily over the common he flies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fast and free as the rush of rocket,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His crape-covered vizard drawn over his eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His tol<a name="FNanchor_82_82" id="FNanchor_82_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_82_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a> by his side, and his pops<a name="FNanchor_83_83" id="FNanchor_83_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_83_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a> in his pocket.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="center"><b>CHORUS</b></p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Then who can name</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So merry a game,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>As the game of all games—high toby?</i><a name="FNanchor_84_84" id="FNanchor_84_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_84_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 25em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The traveller hears him, away! away!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over the wide wide heath he scurries;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He heeds not the thunderbolt summons to stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But ever the faster and faster he hurries.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what daisy-cutter can match that black tit?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He is caught—he must "stand and deliver;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then out with the dummy<a name="FNanchor_85_85" id="FNanchor_85_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_85_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a>, and off with the bit,<a name="FNanchor_86_86" id="FNanchor_86_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_86_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oh! the game of high toby for ever!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="center"><b>CHORUS</b></p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Then who can name</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So merry a game,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>As the game of all games—high toby?</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 25em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Believe me, there is not a game, my brave boys,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To compare with the game of high toby;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No rapture can equal the tobyman's joys,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To blue devils, blue plumbs<a name="FNanchor_87_87" id="FNanchor_87_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_87_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a> give the go-by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what if, at length, boys, he come to the crap!<a name="FNanchor_88_88" id="FNanchor_88_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_88_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Even rack punch has <i>some</i> bitter in it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the mare-with-three-legs<a name="FNanchor_89_89" id="FNanchor_89_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_89_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a>, boys, I care not a rap,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twill be over in less than a minute.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="center"><b>GRAND CHORUS</b></p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Then hip, hurrah!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Fling care away!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Hurrah for the game of high toby!</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"And now, pals," said Dick, who began to feel the influence +of these morning cups, "I vote that we adjourn. Believe me +I shall always bear in mind that I am a brother of your band. +Sir Luke and I must have a little chat together ere I take my +leave. Adieu!"</p> + +<p>And taking Luke by the arm, he walked out of the tent. +Peter Bradley rose, and followed them.</p> + +<p>At the door they found the dwarfish Grasshopper with Black +Bess. Rewarding the urchin for his trouble, and slipping the +bridle of his mare over his hand, Turpin continued his walk +over the green. For a few minutes he seemed to be lost in +rumination.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what, Sir Luke," said he; "I should like to do +a generous thing, and make you a present of this bit of paper. +But one ought not to throw away one's luck, you know—there +is a tide in the affairs of thieves, as the player coves say, which +must be taken at the flood, or else——no matter! Your old +dad, Sir Piers—God help him!—had the gingerbread, <i>that</i> I +know; he was, as we say, a regular rhino-cerical cull. You +won't feel a few thousands, especially at starting; and besides, +there are two others, Rust and Wilder, who row in the same +boat with me, and must therefore come in for their share of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +the reg'lars. All this considered, you can't complain, I think +if I ask five thousand for it. That old harridan, Lady Rookwood, +offered me nearly as much."</p> + +<p>"I will not talk to you of fairness," said Luke; "I will not +say that document belongs of right to me. It fell by accident +into your hands. Having possessed yourself of it, I blame you +not that you dispose of it to the best advantage. I must, perforce, +agree to your terms."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," replied Dick, "it's quite optional; Lady Rookwood +will give as much, and make no mouths about it. Soho, +lass! What makes Bess prick her ears in that fashion?—Ha! +carriage-wheels in the distance! that jade knows the sound as +well as I do. I'll just see what it's like!—you will have ten +minutes for reflection. Who knows if I may not have come +in for a good thing here?"</p> + +<p>At that instant the carriage passed the angle of a rock some +three hundred yards distant, and was seen slowly ascending +the hill-side. Eager as a hawk after his quarry, Turpin dashed +after it.</p> + +<p>In vain the sexton, whom he nearly overthrew in his career, +called after him to halt. He sped like a bolt from the +bow.</p> + +<p>"May the devil break his neck!" cried Peter, as he saw +him dash through the brook; "could he not let them +alone?"</p> + +<p>"This must not be," said Luke; "know you whose carriage +it is?"</p> + +<p>"It is a shrine that holds the jewel that should be dearest +in your eyes," returned Peter; "haste, and arrest the spoiler's +hand."</p> + +<p>"Whom do you mean?" asked Luke.</p> + +<p>"Eleanor Mowbray," replied Peter. "She is there. To +the rescue—away."</p> + +<p>"Eleanor Mowbray!" echoed Luke—"and Sybil?——"</p> + +<p>At this instant a pistol-shot was heard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Will you let murder be done, and upon your cousin?" cried +Peter, with a bitter look. "You are not what I took you for."</p> + +<p>Luke answered not, but, swift as the hound freed from the +leash, darted in the direction of the carriage.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI3" id="CHAPTER_VI3"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>ELEANOR MOWBRAY</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">——Mischiefs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are like the visits of Franciscan friars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They never come to prey upon us single.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Devil's Law Case.</i></p></div> + + +<p>The course of our tale returns now to Eleanor Mowbray. +After she had parted from Ranulph Rookwood, and had +watched him disappear beneath the arches of the church +porch, her heart sank, and, drawing herself back within the +carriage, she became a prey to the most poignant affliction. +In vain she endeavored to shake off this feeling of desolation. +It would not be. Despair had taken possession of her; the +magic fabric of delight melted away, or only gleamed to tantalize, +at an unreachable distance. A presentiment that +Ranulph would never be hers had taken root in her imagination, +and overshadowed all the rest.</p> + +<p>While Eleanor pursued this train of reflection, the time +insensibly wore away, until the sudden stoppage of the carriage +aroused the party from their meditation. Major Mowbray +perceived that the occasion of the halt was the rapid +advance of a horseman, who was nearing them at full speed. +The appearance of the rider was somewhat singular, and +might have created some uneasiness as to the nature of his +approach, had not the major immediately recognized a friend; +he was, nevertheless, greatly surprised to see him, and turned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +to Mrs. Mowbray to inform her that Father Ambrose, to his +infinite astonishment, was coming to meet them, and appeared, +from his manner, to be the bearer of unwelcome tidings.</p> + +<p>Father Ambrose was, perhaps, the only being whom Eleanor +disliked. She had felt an unaccountable antipathy towards +him, which she could neither extirpate nor control, during +their long and close intimacy. It may be necessary to mention +that her religious culture had been in accordance with +the tenets of the Romish Church, in whose faith—the faith of +her ancestry—her mother had continued; and that Father +Ambrose, with whom she had first become acquainted during +the residence of the family near Bordeaux, was her ghostly +adviser and confessor. An Englishman by birth, he had been +appointed pastor to the diocese in which they dwelt, and was, +consequently, a frequent visitor, almost a constant inmate of +the château; yet though duty and respect would have prompted +her to regard the father with affection, Eleanor could never +conquer the feelings of dislike and distrust which she had at +first entertained towards him; a dislike which was increased +by the strange control in which he seemed to hold her mother, +who regarded him with a veneration approaching to infatuation. +It was, therefore, with satisfaction that she bade him adieu. +He had, however, followed his friends to England under a +feigned name as—being a recusant Romish priest, and supposed +to have been engaged in certain Jesuitical plots, his return +to his own country was attended with considerable risk—, +and had now remained domesticated with them for some +months. That he had been in some way, in early life, connected +with a branch of the house of Rookwood, Eleanor +was aware—she fancied he might have been engaged in political +intrigue with Sir Reginald, which would have well accorded +with his ardent, ambitious temperament—, and the knowledge +of this circumstance made her doubly apprehensive lest the +nature of his present communication should have reference +to her lover, towards whose cause the father had never been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +favorable, and respecting whose situation he might have made +some discovery, which she feared he might use to Ranulph's +disadvantage.</p> + +<p>Wrapped in a long black cloak, with a broad-brimmed hat +drawn closely over his brows, it was impossible to distinguish +further of the priest's figure and features beyond the circumstance +of his height, which was remarkable, until he had reached +the carriage window, when, raising his hat, he disclosed a head +that Titian might have painted, and which, arising from the +dark drapery, looked not unlike the visage of some grave and +saturnine Venetian. There was a venerable expanse of forehead, +thinly scattered with hair, towering over black pent-house-like +brows, which, in their turn, shadowed keen penetrating +eyes; the temples were hollow, and blue veins might be traced +beneath the sallow skin; the cheek-bones were high, and there +was something in the face that spoke of self-mortification; +while the thin livid lips, closely compressed, and the austere +and sinister expression of his countenance, showed that his +self-abasement, if he had ever practised it, had scarcely prostrated +the demon of pride, whose dominion might still be traced +in the lines and furrows of his haughty physiognomy. The +father looked at Mrs. Mowbray, and then glanced suspiciously +at Eleanor. The former appeared to understand him.</p> + +<p>"You would say a word to me in private," said Mrs. Mowbray; +"shall I descend?"</p> + +<p>The priest bowed assent.</p> + +<p>"It is not to you alone that my mission extends," said he, +gravely; "you are all in part concerned; your son had better +alight with you."</p> + +<p>"Instantly," replied the major. "If you will give your +horse in charge to the postilion, we will attend you at once."</p> + +<p>With a feeling of renewed apprehension, connected, she +knew not why, with Ranulph, Eleanor beheld her relatives +descend from the carriage; and, in the hope of gaining some +clue from their gestures to the subject of their conversation,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +she watched their motions as narrowly as her situation permitted. +From the earnest manner of the priest, and the interest +his narrative seemed to excite in his hearers, it was +evident that his communication was of importance.</p> + +<p>Presently, accompanied by Father Ambrose, Mrs. Mowbray +returned to the carriage, while the major, mounting the priest's +horse, after bidding a hasty adieu to his sister, adding, with +a look that belied the consolation intended to be conveyed +by his words, that "all was well," but without staying to offer +her any explanation of the cause of his sudden departure, rode +back the way they had just traversed, and in the direction of +Rookwood. Bereft of the only person to whom she could have +applied for information, though dying with curiosity and anxiety +to know the meaning of this singular interview and of the sudden +change of plans which she felt so intimately concerned herself, +Eleanor was constrained to preserve silence, as, after their +entrance into the carriage, her mother again seemed lost in +painful reflection, and heeded her not; and the father, drawing +from his pocket a small volume, appeared intently occupied +in its perusal.</p> + +<p>"Dear mother," said Eleanor, at length, turning to Mrs. +Mowbray, "my brother is gone——"</p> + +<p>"To Rookwood," said Mrs. Mowbray, in a tone calculated +to check further inquiry; but Eleanor was too anxious to +notice it.</p> + +<p>"And wherefore, mother?" said she. "May I not be informed?"</p> + +<p>"Not as yet, my child—not as yet," replied Mrs. Mowbray. +"You will learn all sufficiently early."</p> + +<p>The priest raised his cat-like eyes from the book to watch the +effect of this speech, and dropped them instantly as Eleanor +turned towards him. She had been about to appeal to him, +but having witnessed this look, she relinquished her scarce-formed +purpose, and endeavored to divert her tristful thoughts +by gazing through the glimmering medium of her tears upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +the soothing aspect of external nature—that aspect which, in +sunshine or in storm, has ever relief in store for a heart embittered +by the stormy coldness of the world.</p> + +<p>The road, meanwhile, led them through a long woody valley, +and was now climbing the sides of a steep hill. They were +soon in the vicinity of the priory, and of the gipsies' encampment. +The priest leaned forward, and whispered something +in Mrs. Mowbray's ear, who looked towards the ruined shrine, +part of the mouldering walls being visible from the road.</p> + +<p>At the moment the clatter of a horse's hoofs, and the sound +of a loud voice, commanding the postilion, in a menacing tone, +to stop, accompanied by a volley of imprecations, interrupted +the conference, and bespoke the approach of an unwelcome +intruder, and one whom all, too truly, feared would not be +readily dismissed. The postilion did his best to rid them of +the assailant. Perceiving a masked horseman behind him, +approaching at a furious rate, he had little doubt as to his intentions, +and Turpin, for it was our highwayman, soon made his +doubts certainties. He hallooed to him to stop; but the fellow +paid no attention to his command, and disregarded even the +pistol which he saw, in a casual glimpse over his near side, +presented at his person. Clapping spurs into his horse's +flanks, he sought succor in flight. Turpin was by his side +in an instant. As the highwayman endeavored to catch his +reins, the lad suddenly wheeled the carriage right upon +him, and but for the dexterity of Turpin, and the clever conduct +of his mare, would inevitably have crushed him against +the roadside. As it was, his left leg was slightly grazed. +Irritated at this, Turpin fired over the man's head, and with +the butt-end of the pistol felled him from his seat. Startled +by the sound, and no longer under the governance of their +rider, the horses rushed with frantic violence towards a ditch +that bounded the other side of the highway, down which the +carriage was precipitated, and at once overturned. Turpin's +first act, after he had ascertained that no mischief had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +occasioned to those within, beyond the alarm incident to the +shock, was to compel the postilion, who had by this time gained +his legs, to release the horses from their traces. This done, +with the best grace he could assume, and, adjusting his mask, he +opened the carriage, and proceeded to liberate the captives.</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon, ma'am," said he, as soon as he had released +Mrs. Mowbray; "excessively sorry, upon my soul, to have been +the cause of so much unnecessary alarm to you—all the fault, +I assure you, of that rascal of a postilion; had the fellow only +pulled up when I commanded him, this botheration might have +been avoided. You will remember that, when you pay him—all +his fault, I assure you, ma'am."</p> + +<p>Receiving no reply, he proceeded to extricate Eleanor, +with whose beauty the inflammable highwayman was instantly +smitten. Leaving the father to shift for himself, he turned to +address some observation of coarse gallantry to her; but she +eluded his grasp, and flew to her mother's side.</p> + +<p>"It is useless, sir," said Mrs. Mowbray, as Turpin drew near +them, "to affect ignorance of your intentions. You have +already occasioned us serious alarm; much delay and inconvenience. +I trust, therefore, that beyond our purses, to which, +though scantily supplied, you are welcome, we shall sustain no +molestation. You seem to have less of the ruffian about you +than the rest of your lawless race, and are not, I should hope, +destitute of common humanity."</p> + +<p>"Common humanity!" replied Turpin: "bless you, ma'am, +I'm the most humane creature breathing—would not hurt a +fly, much less a lady. Incivility was never laid to my charge. +This business may be managed in a few seconds; and as soon +as we have settled the matter, I'll lend your stupid jack-boy a +hand to put the horses to the carriage again, and get the wheels +out of the ditch. You have a banker, ma'am, I suppose, in +town—perhaps in the country; but I don't like country bankers; +besides, I want a little ready cash in Rumville—beg +pardon, ma'am, London I mean. My ears have been so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +stunned with those Romany patterers, I almost <i>think</i> in flash. +Just draw me a check; I've pen and ink always ready: a check +for fifty pounds, ma'am—only fifty. What's your banker's +name? I've blank checks of all the best houses in my pocket; +that and a kiss from the pretty lips of that cherry-cheeked +maid," winking to Eleanor, "will fully content me. You see +you have neither an exorbitant nor uncivil personage to deal +with."</p> + +<p>Eleanor shrank closer towards her mother. Exhausted by +previous agitation of the night, greatly frightened by the shock +which she had just sustained, and still more alarmed by the +words and gestures of the highwayman, she felt that she was +momentarily in danger of fainting, and with difficulty prevented +herself from falling. The priest, who had succeeded in freeing +himself from the carriage, now placed himself between Turpin +and the ladies.</p> + +<p>"Be satisfied, misguided man," said the father, in a stern +voice, offering a purse, which Mrs. Mowbray hastily extended +towards him, "with the crime you have already committed, +and seek not to peril your soul by deeper guilt; be content +with the plunder you now obtain, and depart; for, by my holy +calling, I affirm to you, that if you advance one footstep +towards the further molestation of these ladies, it shall be at +the hazard of your life."</p> + +<p>"Bravo!" exclaimed Turpin. "Now this is what I like; +who would have thought the old autem-bawler had so much +pluck in him? Sir, I commend you for your courage, but you +are mistaken. I am the quietest man breathing, and never +harm a human being; in proof of which, only look at your +rascal of a postilion, whom any one of my friends would have +sent post-haste to the devil for half the trouble he gave me. +Easy as I am, I never choose to be balked in my humors. +I must have the fifty and the buss, and then I'm off, as soon +as you like; and I may as well have the kiss while the old +lady signs the check, and then we shall have the seal as well<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> +as the signature. Poh—poh—no nonsense! Many a pretty +lass has thought it an honor to be kissed by Turpin."</p> + +<p>Eleanor recoiled with deepest disgust, as she saw the highwayman +thrust aside the useless opposition of the priest, and +approach her. He had removed his mask; his face, flushed +with insolent triumph, was turned towards her. Despite the +loathing, which curdled the blood within her veins, she could +not avert her eyes. He drew near her; she uttered a shrill +scream. At that moment a powerful grasp was laid upon +Turpin's shoulder; he turned and beheld Luke.</p> + +<p>"Save me! save me," cried Eleanor, addressing the new +comer.</p> + +<p>"Damnation!" said the highwayman, "what has brought +<i>you</i> here? one would think you were turned assistant to all +distressed damsels. Quit your hold, or, by the God above us, +you will repent it."</p> + +<p>"Fool!" exclaimed Luke, "talk thus to one who heeds +you." And as he spoke he hurled Turpin backwards with so +much force that, staggering a few yards, the highwayman fell +to the ground.</p> + +<p>The priest stood like one stunned with surprise at Luke's +sudden appearance and subsequent daring action.</p> + +<p>Luke, meanwhile, approached Eleanor. He gazed upon her +with curiosity mixed with admiration, for his heart told him +she was very fair. A deathlike paleness had spread over her +cheeks; yet still, despite the want of color, she looked exquisitely +beautiful, and her large blue eyes eloquently thanked +her deliverer for her rescue. The words she wanted were supplied +by Mrs. Mowbray, who thanked him in appropriate terms, +when they were interrupted by Turpin, who had by this time +picked himself up, and was drawing near them. His countenance +wore a fierce expression.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what," said he, "Luke Bradley, or Luke Rookwood, +or whatever else you may call yourself, you have taken +a damned unfair advantage of me in this matter, and deserve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +nothing better at my hands than that I should call you to +instant account for it—and curse me, if I don't too."</p> + +<p>"Luke Bradley!" interrupted Mrs. Mowbray—"are you +that individual?"</p> + +<p>"I have been so called, madam," replied Luke.</p> + +<p>"Father Ambrose, is this the person of whom you spoke?" +eagerly asked the lady.</p> + +<p>"So I conclude," returned the priest, evasively.</p> + +<p>"Did he not call you Luke Rookwood?" eagerly demanded +Eleanor. "Is that also your name?"</p> + +<p>"Rookwood is my name, fair cousin," replied Luke, "if I +may venture to call you so."</p> + +<p>"And Ranulph Rookwood is——"</p> + +<p>"My brother."</p> + +<p>"I never heard he had a brother," rejoined Eleanor, with +some agitation. "How can that be?"</p> + +<p>"I am his brother, nevertheless," replied Luke, moodily—"his +<span class="smcapl">ELDER BROTHER</span>!"</p> + +<p>Eleanor turned to her mother and the priest with a look +of imploring anguish; she saw a confirmation of the truth of +this statement in their glances. No contradiction was offered +by either to his statement; both, indeed, appeared in some +mysterious manner prepared for it. This, then, was the +dreaded secret. This was the cause of her brother's sudden +departure. The truth flashed with lightning swiftness across +her brain.</p> + +<p>Chagrined and mortified, Luke remarked that glance of +inquiry. His pride was hurt at the preference thus naturally +shown towards his brother. He had been struck, deeply +struck, with her beauty. He acknowledged the truth of Peter's +words. Eleanor's loveliness was without parallel. He had +seen naught so fair, and the instant he beheld her, he felt that for +<i>her</i> alone could he cancel his vows to Sybil. The spirit of +rivalry and jealousy was instantly aroused by Eleanor's exclamations.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p> + +<p>"His elder brother!" echoed Eleanor, dwelling upon his +words, and addressing Luke—"then you must be—but no, you +are not, you cannot be—it is Ranulph's title—it is not yours—you +are not——"</p> + +<p>"I am Sir Luke Rookwood," replied Luke, proudly.</p> + +<p>Ere the words were uttered Eleanor had fainted.</p> + +<p>"Assistance is at hand, madam, if you will accept it, and +follow me," said Luke, raising the insensible girl in his arms, +and bearing her down the hill towards the encampment, +whither he was followed by Mrs. Mowbray and the priest, +between whom, during the hurried dialogue we have detailed, +very significant glances had been exchanged. Turpin, who, as +it may be supposed, had not been an incurious observer of the +scene passing, burst into his usual loud laugh on seeing Luke +bear away his lovely burden.</p> + +<p>"Cousin! Ha, ha!" said he. "So the wench is his cousin. +Damme, I half suspect he has fallen in love with his new-found +cousin; and if so, Miss Sybil, or I'm mistaken, will look as yellow +as a guinea. If that little Spanish devil gets it into her pretty +jealous pate that he is about to bring home a new mistress, +we shall have a tragedy-scene in the twinkling of a bed-post. +However, I shan't lose sight of Sir Luke until I have settled +my accounts with him. Hark ye, boy," continued he, +addressing the postilion; "remain where you are; you won't +be wanted yet awhile, I imagine. There's a guinea for you, +to drink Dick Turpin's health."</p> + +<p>Upon which he mounted his mare, and walked her easily +down the hill.</p> + +<p>"And so that be Dick Turpin, folks talk so much about," +soliloquized the lad, looking curiously after him; "well, he's +as civil-speaking a chap as need be, blow my boots if he ain't! +and if I'd had a notion it were he, I'd have pulled up at +first call, without more ado. Nothing like experience—I +shall know better another time," added he, pocketing the +douceur.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rushing swiftly down the hill, Luke tarried at the river's +brink, to sprinkle some of the cool element upon the pale +brow of Eleanor. As he held her in his arms, thoughts which +he fain would have stifled in their birth took possession of his +heart. "Would she were mine!" murmured he. "Yet no! +the wish is unworthy." But that wish returned unbidden.</p> + +<p>Eleanor opened her eyes. She was still too weak to walk +without support, and Luke, raising her once more in his arms, +and motioning Mrs. Mowbray to follow, crossed the brook by +means of stepping-stones, and conducted his charge along a +bypath towards the priory, so as to avoid meeting with the +crew assembled upon the green.</p> + +<p>They had gained one of the roofless halls, when he encountered +Balthazar. Astonished at the sight of the party, the +patrico was about to address the priest as an acquaintance, +when his more orthodox brother raised his finger to his lips, in +token of caution. The action passed unobserved.</p> + +<p>"Hie thee to Sybil," said Luke to the patrico. "Bid her +haste hither. Say that this maiden—that Miss Mowbray is here, +and requires her aid. Fly! I will bear her to the refectory."</p> + +<p>As Balthazar passed the priest, he pointed with a significant +glance towards a chasm in the wall, which seemed to be an +opening to some subterraneous chamber. The father again +made a gesture of silence, and Balthazar hastened upon his +mission.</p> + +<p>Luke led them to the refectory. He brought a chair for +Eleanor's support; but so far from reviving, after such attention +as could be afforded her, she appeared to become weaker. +He was about to issue forth in search of Sybil, when to his +surprise he found the door fastened.</p> + +<p>"You cannot pass this way," said a voice, which Luke instantly +recognized as that of the knight of Malta.</p> + +<p>"Not pass!" echoed Luke. "What does this mean?"</p> + +<p>"Our orders are from the queen," returned the knight.</p> + +<p>At this instant the low tone of a muffled bell was heard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ha!" exclaimed Luke; "some danger is at hand."</p> + +<p>His heart smote him as he thought of Sybil, and he looked +anxiously towards Eleanor.</p> + +<p>Balthazar rushed into the room.</p> + +<p>"Where is Sybil?" cried Luke. "Will she not come?"</p> + +<p>"She will be here anon," answered the patrico.</p> + +<p>"I will seek her myself, then," said Luke. "The door by +which you entered is free."</p> + +<p>"It is <i>not</i> free," replied Balthazar. "Remain where you +are."</p> + +<p>"Who will prevent my going forth?" demanded Luke, +sternly.</p> + +<p>"I will," said Barbara Lovel, as she suddenly appeared in +the doorway. "You stir not, excepting at my pleasure. +Where is the maiden?" continued she, looking around with a +grim smile of satisfaction at the consternation produced by +her appearance. "Ha! I see; she faints. Here is a cordial +that shall revive her. Mrs. Mowbray, you are welcome to +the gipsies' dwelling—you and your daughter. And you, Sir +Luke Rookwood, I congratulate you upon your accession of +dignity." Turning to the priest, who was evidently overwhelmed +with confusion, she exclaimed, "And you too, sir, +think you I recognize you not? We have met ere this, at Rookwood. +Know you not Barbara Lovel? Ha, ha! It is long since +my poor dwelling has been so highly honored. But I must not +delay the remedy. Let her drink of this," said she, handing +a phial to Mrs. Mowbray. "It will instantly restore her."</p> + +<p>"It is poison," cried Luke. "She shall not drink it."</p> + +<p>"Poison!" reiterated Barbara. "Behold!" and she drank +of the liquid. "I would not poison your bride," added she, +turning to Luke.</p> + +<p>"My bride!" echoed Luke.</p> + +<p>"Ay, your bride," repeated Barbara.</p> + +<p>Luke recoiled in amazement. Mrs. Mowbray almost felt +inclined to believe she was a dreamer, so visionary did the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +whole scene appear. A dense crowd of witnesses stood at the +entrance. Foremost amongst them was the sexton. Suddenly +a shriek was heard, and the crowd opening to allow her passage, +Sybil rushed forward.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII3" id="CHAPTER_VII3"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>MRS. MOWBRAY</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Well, go thy ways, old Nick Machiavel, there will never be the peer +of thee for wholesome policy and good counsel: thou took'st pains to +chalk men out the dark paths and hidden plots of murther and deceit, +and no man has the grace to follow thee. The age is unthankful, thy +principles are quite forsaken, and worn out of memory.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Shakerley Marmion's</span> <i>Antiquary</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>Sybil's sudden entrance filled the group that surrounded +Miss Mowbray with new dismay. But she saw them not. +Her soul seemed riveted by Eleanor, towards whom she rushed; +and while her eye wandered over her beauty, she raised the +braided hair from her brow, revealing the clear, polished forehead. +Wonder, awe, devotion, pity, usurped the place of +hatred. The fierce expression that had lit up her dark orbs +was succeeded by tender commiseration. She looked an imploring +appeal at Barbara.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay," returned the old gipsy, extending at the same +time the phial; "I understand. Here is that will bring the +blood once more into her pallid cheeks, and kindle the fire +within her eyes. Give her of this."</p> + +<p>The effect of the potion was almost instantaneous, amply +attesting Barbara's skill in its concoction. Stifled respiration +first proclaimed Eleanor's recovery. She opened her large +and languid eyes; her bosom heaved almost to bursting; +her pulses throbbed quickly and feverishly; and as the stimulant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +operated, the wild lustre of excitement blazed in her +eyes.</p> + +<p>Sybil took her hand to chafe it. The eyes of the two +maidens met. They gazed upon each other steadfastly and in +silence. Eleanor knew not whom she regarded, but she could +not mistake that look of sympathy; she could not mistake the +tremulous pressure of her hand; she felt the silent trickling +tears. She returned the sympathizing glance, and gazed with +equal wonder upon the ministering fairy, for such she almost +seemed, that knelt before her. As her looks wandered from +the kindly glance of Sybil to the withered and inauspicious +aspect of the gipsy queen, and shifted thence to the dusky +figures of her attendants, filled with renewed apprehension, +she exclaimed, "Who are these, and where am I?"</p> + +<p>"You are in safety," replied Luke. "This is the ruined +priory of St. Francis; and those strange personages are a horde +of gipsies. You need fear no injury from them."</p> + +<p>"My deliverer!" murmured Eleanor; when all at once the +recollection that he had avowed himself a Rookwood, and +the elder brother of Ranulph, flashed across her memory. +"Gipsies! did you not say these people were gipsies? Your +own attire is the same as theirs. You are not, cannot be, the +brother of Ranulph."</p> + +<p>"I do not boast the same mother," returned Luke, proudly, +"but my father was Sir Piers Rookwood, and I am his elder +born."</p> + +<p>He turned away. Dark thoughts swept across his brain. +Maddened by the beauty of Eleanor, stung by her slights, and +insensible to the silent agony of Sybil, who sought in vain to +catch his eye, he thought of nothing but of revenge, and the +accomplishment of his purposes. All within was a wild and +fearful turmoil. His better principles were stifled by the +promptings of evil. "Methinks," cried he, half aloud, "if +the Tempter were near to offer the maiden to me, even at +the peril of my soul's welfare, I could not resist it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Tempter <i>was</i> at hand. He is seldom absent on occasions +like the present. The sexton stood beside his grandson. +Luke started. He eyed Peter from head to foot, almost expecting +to find the cloven foot, supposed to be proper to the fiend. +Peter grinned in ghastly derision.</p> + +<p>"Soh! you would summon hell to your aid; and lo! the +devil is at your elbow. Well, she is yours."</p> + +<p>"Make good your words," cried Luke, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Softly—softly," returned Peter. "Moderate yourself, and +your wishes shall be accomplished. Your own desires chime +with those of others; nay, with those of Barbara. <i>She</i> would +wed you to Miss Mowbray. You stare. But it is so. This is +a cover for some deeper plot; no matter. It shall go hard, +despite her cunning, if I foil her not at her own weapons. +There is more mischief in that old woman's brain than was ever +hatched within the crocodile's egg; yet she shall find her +match. Do not thwart her; leave all to me. She is about it +now," added he, noticing Barbara and Mrs. Mowbray in conference +together. "Be patient—I will watch her." And he +quitted his grandson for the purpose of scanning more closely +the manœuvres of the old gipsy.</p> + +<p>Barbara, meanwhile, had not remained inactive.</p> + +<p>"You need fear no relapse in your daughter; I will answer +for that," said the old gipsy to Mrs. Mowbray; "Sybil will +tend her. Quit not the maiden's side," continued she, +addressing her grandchild, adding, in a whisper, "Be cautious—alarm +her not—mine eye will be upon you—drop not a word."</p> + +<p>So saying, she shuffled to a little distance with Mrs. Mowbray, +keeping Sybil in view, and watching every motion, as the +panther watches the gambols of a fawn.</p> + +<p>"Know you who speaks to you?" said the old crone, in the +peculiar low and confidential tone assumed by her tribe to +strangers. "Have you forgotten the name of Barbara Lovel?"</p> + +<p>"I have no distinct remembrance of it," returned Mrs. +Mowbray.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Think again," said Barbara; "and though years are flown, +you may perchance recall the black gipsy woman, who, when +you were surrounded with gay gallants, with dancing plumes, +perused your palm, and whispered in your ear the favored +suitor's name. Bide with me a moment, madam," said Barbara, +seeing that Mrs. Mowbray shrank from the recollection +thus conjured up; "I am old—very old; I have survived the +shows of flattery, and being vested with a power over my +people, am apt, perchance, to take too much upon myself with +others." The old gipsy paused here, and then, assuming a +more familiar tone, exclaimed, "The estates of Rookwood +are ample——"</p> + +<p>"Woman, what mean you?"</p> + +<p>"They should have been yours, lady, and would have been, +but for that marriage. You would have beseemed them +bravely. Sir Reginald was wilful, and erased the daughter's +name to substitute that of his son. Pity it is that so fair a +creature as Miss Mowbray should lack the dower her beauty +and her birth entitle her to expect. Pity that Ranulph Rookwood +should lose his title, at the moment when he deemed it +was dropping into his possession. Pity that those broad lands +should pass away from you and your children, as they will do, +if Ranulph and Eleanor are united."</p> + +<p>"They never shall be united," replied Mrs. Mowbray, +hastily.</p> + +<p>"'Twere indeed to wed your child to beggary," said +Barbara.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mowbray sighed deeply.</p> + +<p>"There is a way," continued the old crone, in a deep whisper, +"by which the estates might still be hers and yours."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said Mrs. Mowbray, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Sir Piers Rookwood had two sons."</p> + +<p>"Ha!"</p> + +<p>"The elder is here."</p> + +<p>"Luke—Sir Luke. He brought us hither."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He loves your daughter. I saw his gaze of passion just now. +I am old now, but I have some skill in lovers' glances. Why +not wed her to him? I read hands—read hearts, you know. +They were born for each other. Now, madam, do you understand +me?"</p> + +<p>"But," returned Mrs. Mowbray, with hesitation, "though I +might wish for—though I might sanction this, Eleanor is betrothed +to Ranulph—she loves him."</p> + +<p>"Think not of <i>her</i>, if <i>you</i> are satisfied. She cannot judge +so well for herself as you can for her. She is a child, and +knows not what she loves. Her affection will soon be Luke's. +He is a noble youth—the image of his grandfather, your father, +Sir Reginald; and if your daughter be betrothed to any one, +'twas to the heir of Rookwood. That was an essential part of +the contract. Why should the marriage not take place at +once, and here?"</p> + +<p>"Here! How were that possible?"</p> + +<p>"You are within sacred walls. I will take you where an +altar stands. There is no lack of holy priest to join their +hands together. Your companion, Father Ambrose, as you +call him, will do the office fittingly. He has essayed his +clerkly skill already on others of your house."</p> + +<p>"To what do you allude, mysterious woman?" asked Mrs. +Mowbray, with anxiety.</p> + +<p>"To Sir Piers and Susan Bradley," returned Barbara. +"That priest united them."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! He never told me this."</p> + +<p>"He dared not do so; he had an oath which bound him +to concealment. The time is coming when greater mysteries +will be revealed."</p> + +<p>"'Tis strange I should not have heard of this before," said +Mrs. Mowbray, musingly; "and yet I might have guessed as +much from his obscure hints respecting Ranulph. I see it all +now. I see the gulf into which I might have been plunged; +but I am warned in time. Father Ambrose," continued she,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +to the priest, who was pacing the chamber at some little distance +from them, "is it true that my brother was wedded by +you to Susan Bradley?"</p> + +<p>Ere the priest could reply the sexton presented himself.</p> + +<p>"Ha, the very father of the girl!" said Mrs. Mowbray, +"whom I met within our family vault, and who was so strangely +moved when I spoke to him of Alan Rookwood. Is he here +likewise?"</p> + +<p>"Alan Rookwood!" echoed Barbara, upon whom a light +seemed suddenly to break; "ha! what said he of him?"</p> + +<p>"Ill-boding raven," interposed Peter, fiercely, "be content +with what thou knowest of the living, and trouble not the repose +of the dead. Let them rest in their infamy."</p> + +<p>"The dead!" echoed Barbara, with a chuckling laugh; "ha! +ha! he is dead, then; and what became of his fair wife—his +brother's minion? 'Twas a foul deed, I grant, and yet there +was expiation. Blood flowed—blood——"</p> + +<p>"Silence, thou night hag!" thundered Peter, "or I will have +thee burned at the stake for the sorcery thou practisest. Beware," +added he, in a deep tone—"I am thy friend."</p> + +<p>Barbara's withered countenance exhibited for an instant the +deepest indignation at the sexton's threat. The malediction +trembled on her tongue; she raised her staff to smite him, but +she checked the action. In the same tone, and with a sharp, +suspicious look, she replied, "My <i>friend</i>, sayest thou? See +that it prove so, or beware of <i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>And, with a malignant scowl, the gipsy queen slowly shuffled +towards her satellites, who were stationed at the door.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII3" id="CHAPTER_VIII3"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>THE PARTING</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 21em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No marriage I esteem it, where the friends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Force love upon their children; where the virgin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is not so truly given as betrayed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would not have betrothed people—for<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I can by no means call them lovers—make<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their rites no wedlock, but a sacrifice.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Combat of Love and Friendship.</i></p></div> + + +<p>Eleanor Mowbray had witnessed her mother's withdrawal +from her side with much uneasiness, and was with difficulty +prevented by Sybil from breaking upon her conference with +the gipsy queen. Barbara's dark eye was fixed upon them +during the whole of the interview, and communicated an indefinite +sense of dread to Eleanor.</p> + +<p>"Who—who is that old woman?" asked Eleanor, under +her breath. "Never, even in my wildest dreams, have I seen +aught so terrible. Why does she look so at us? She terrifies +me; and yet she cannot mean me ill, or my mother—we have +never injured her?"</p> + +<p>"Alas!" sighed Sybil.</p> + +<p>"You sigh!" exclaimed Eleanor, in alarm. "Is there any +real danger, then? Help us to avoid it. Quick, warn my +mother; she seems agitated. Oh, let me go to her."</p> + +<p>"Hush!" whispered Sybil, maintaining an unmoved demeanor +under the lynx-like gaze of Barbara. "Stir not, as +you value your life; you know not where you are, or what may +befall you. Your safety depends upon your composure. Your +life is not in danger; but what is dearer than life, your love, is +threatened with a fatal blow. There is a dark design to wed +you to another."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Heavens!" ejaculated Eleanor, "and to whom?"</p> + +<p>"To Sir Luke Rookwood."</p> + +<p>"I would die sooner! Marry <i>him</i>? They shall kill me ere +they force me to it!"</p> + +<p>"Could you not love him?"</p> + +<p>"Love him! I have only seen him within this hour. I +knew not of his existence. He rescued me from peril. I would +thank him. I would love him, if I could, for Ranulph's sake; +and yet for Ranulph's sake I hate him."</p> + +<p>"Speak not of him thus to me," said Sybil, angrily. "If +<i>you</i> love him not, <i>I</i> love him. Oh! forgive me, lady; pardon +my impatience—my heart is breaking, yet it has not ceased +to beat for him. You say you will die sooner than consent to +this forced union. Your faith shall not be so cruelly attested. +If there must be a victim, I will be the sacrifice. God grant +I may be the only one. Be happy! as happy as I am wretched. +You shall see what the love of a gipsy can do."</p> + +<p>As she spoke, Sybil burst into a flood of passionate tears. +Eleanor regarded her with the deepest commiseration; but +the feeling was transient; for Barbara, now advancing, exclaimed: +"Hence to your mother. The bridegroom is waiting: +to your mother, girl!" And she motioned Eleanor fiercely +away. "What means this?" continued the old gipsy. "What +have you said to that girl? Did I not caution you against +speech with her? and you have dared to disobey me. You, +my grandchild—the daughter of my Agatha, with whom my +slightest wish was law. I abandon you! I curse you!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, curse me not!" cried Sybil. "Add not to my +despair."</p> + +<p>"Then follow my advice implicitly. Cast off this weakness; +all is in readiness. Luke shall descend into the vaulted chapel, +the ceremony shall there take place—there also shall Eleanor +<i>die</i>—and there again shall you be wedded. Take this phial, +place it within the folds of your girdle. When all is over, I will +tell you how to use it. Are you prepared? Shall we set out?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am prepared," replied Sybil, in accents hollow as despair; +"but let me speak with Luke before we go."</p> + +<p>"Be brief, then—each moment is precious. Keep a guard +upon your tongue. I will to Mrs. Mowbray. You have placed +the phial in safety. A drop will free you from your troubles."</p> + +<p>"'Tis in that hope I guard it," replied Sybil, as she departed +in the direction of Luke. Barbara watched her join him, +and then turned shortly towards Mrs. Mowbray and her +daughter.</p> + +<p>"You are ill, dear Luke," said Sybil, who had silently approached +her faithless lover; "very ill."</p> + +<p>"Ill!" echoed Luke, breaking into frantic laughter. "Ill! +Ha, ha!—upon my wedding-day. No, I am well—well. +Your eyes are jaundiced by jealousy."</p> + +<p>"Luke, dear Luke, laugh not thus. It terrifies me. I shall +think you insane. There, you are calmer—you are more like +yourself—more human. You looked just now—oh God! that +I should say it of you—as if you were possessed by demons."</p> + +<p>"And if I were possessed, what then?"</p> + +<p>"Horrible! hint not at it. You almost make me credit +the dreadful tales I have heard, that on their wedding-day the +Rookwoods are subject to the power of the 'Evil One.'"</p> + +<p>"Upon their wedding-day—and <i>I</i> look thus?"</p> + +<p>"You do—you do. Oh! cast this frenzy from you."</p> + +<p>"She is mine—she is mine! I care not though fiends possess +me, if it is my wedding-day, and Eleanor is my bride. And +you say I look like a Rookwood. Ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>"That wild laughter again. Luke, I implore you, hear me +one word—my last——"</p> + +<p>"I will not bear reproaches."</p> + +<p>"I mean not to reproach you. I come to bless you—to +forgive you—to bid you farewell. Will you not say farewell?"</p> + +<p>"Farewell."</p> + +<p>"Not so—not so. Mercy! my God! compassionate him and +me! My heart will break with agony. Luke, if you would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +not kill me, recall that word. Let not the guilt of my death +be yours. 'Tis to save you from that remorse that I die!"</p> + +<p>"Sybil, you have said rightly, I am not myself. I know +not what demons have possession of my soul, that I can behold +your agonies without remorse; that your matchless +affection should awaken no return. Yet so it is. Since the +fatal moment when I beheld yon maid, I have loved her."</p> + +<p>"No more. <i>Now</i> I can part with you. Farewell!"</p> + +<p>"Stay, stay! wretch that I am. Stay, Sybil! If we must +part—and that it <i>must</i> be so I feel—let me receive your pardon, +if you can bestow it. Let me clasp you once more within my +arms. May you live to happier days—may you——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, to die thus!" sobbed Sybil, disengaging herself from +his embrace. "Live to happier days, said you? When have +<i>I</i> given you reason to doubt, for an instant, the sincerity of <i>my</i> +love, that you should insult me thus?"</p> + +<p>"Then live with me—live for me."</p> + +<p>"If you can love me still, I will live as your slave, your +minion, your wife; aught you will have me be. You have +raised me from wretchedness. Oh!" continued she in an +altered tone, "have I mistaken your meaning? Did you utter +those words in false compassion for my sufferings?—Speak, it +is not yet too late—all may be well. My fate—my life is in +your hands. If you love me yet—if you can forsake Eleanor, +speak—if not, be silent."</p> + +<p>Luke averted his head.</p> + +<p>"Enough!" continued Sybil, in a voice of agony; "I understand. +May God forgive you! Fare you well! We shall +meet no more."</p> + +<p>"Do we part for ever?" asked Luke, without daring to regard +her.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">For ever!</span>" answered Sybil.</p> + +<p>Before her lover could reply, she shot from his side, and +plunging amidst the dark and dense assemblage near the door, +disappeared from view. An instant after, she emerged into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +the open air. She stood within the roofless hall. It was filled +with sunshine—with the fresh breath of morn. The ivied ruins, +the grassy floor, the blue vault of heaven, seemed to greet her +with a benignant smile. All was <i>riant</i> and rejoicing—all, save +her heart. Amid such brightness, her sorrow seemed harsh +and unnatural; as she felt the glad influence of day, she was +scarcely able to refrain from tears. It was terrible to leave +this beautiful world, that blue sky, that sunshine, and all she +loved—so young, so soon.</p> + +<p>Entering a low arch that yawned within the wall, she vanished +like a ghost at the approach of morn.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX3" id="CHAPTER_IX3"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>THE PHILTER</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 22em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou hast practised on her with foul charms—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abused her delicate youth with drugs and minerals.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare</span>: <i>Othello</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>To return to Eleanor Mowbray. In a state of mind bordering +upon distraction, she rushed to her mother, and, flinging her +arms wildly round her neck, besought her to protect her. +Mrs. Mowbray gazed anxiously upon the altered countenance +of her daughter, but a few moments relieved her from much +of her uneasiness.—The expression of pain gradually subsided, +and the look of vacuity was succeeded by one of frenzied +excitement. A film had, for an instant or two, dimmed her +eyes; they now gleamed with unnatural lustre. She smiled—the +smile was singular; it was not the playful, pleasurable +lighting up of the face that it used to be; but it <i>was</i> a smile, +and the mother's heart was satisfied.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mowbray knew not to what circumstance she could +attribute this wondrous change. She looked at the priest. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +was more apt in divining the probable cause of the sudden +alteration in Eleanor's manner.</p> + +<p>"What if she has swallowed a love-powder?" said he, +approaching Mrs. Mowbray, and speaking in a whisper. "I +have heard of such abominable mixtures; indeed, the holy St. +Jerome himself relates an instance of similar sorcery, in his +life of Hilarius; and these people are said to compound +them."</p> + +<p>"It may be so," replied Mrs. Mowbray, in the same tone. +"I think that the peculiar softness in the eye is more than +natural."</p> + +<p>"I will at least hazard an experiment, to attest the truth or +fallacy of my supposition," returned the father. "Do you see +your destined bridegroom yonder?" continued he, addressing +Eleanor.</p> + +<p>She followed with her eyes in the direction which Father +Ambrose pointed. She beheld Luke. We know not how to +describe the sensations which now possessed her. She thought +not of Ranulph; or, if she did, it was with vague indifference. +Wrapped in a kind of mental trance, she yielded to the pleasurable +impulse that directed her unsettled fancies towards Luke. +For some moments she did not take her eyes from him. The +priest and Mrs. Mowbray watched her in silence.</p> + +<p>Nothing passed between the party till Luke joined them. +Eleanor continued gazing at him, and the seeming tenderness +of her glance emboldened Luke to advance towards her. The +soft fire that dwelt in those orbs was, however, cold as the shining +wing of the luciola.</p> + +<p>Luke approached her; he took her hand—she withdrew it +not. He kissed it. Still she withdrew it not, but gazed at +him with gently-glimmering eyes.</p> + +<p>"My daughter is yours, Sir Luke Rookwood," exclaimed +Mrs. Mowbray.</p> + +<p>"What says the maid herself?" asked Luke.</p> + +<p>Eleanor answered not. Her eyes were still fixed on him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She will not refuse me her hand," said Luke.</p> + +<p>The victim resisted not.</p> + +<p>"To the subterranean shrine," cried Barbara. And she +gave the preconcerted signal to the band.</p> + +<p>The signal was repeated by the gipsy crew. We may here +casually note, that the crew had been by no means uninterested +or silent spectators of passing events, but had, on the contrary, +indulged themselves in a variety of conjectures as to their +probable issue. Several bets were pending as to whether it +would be a match or not after all. Zoroaster took long odds +that the match was off—offering a <i>bean</i> to <i>half-a-quid</i>—in +other words, a guinea to a half-guinea—that Sybil would be the +bride. His offer was taken at once by Jerry Juniper, and +backed by the knight of Malta.</p> + +<p>"Ha! there's the signal," cried the knight; "I'll trouble +you for the bean."</p> + +<p>"And I," added Jerry Juniper, "for another."</p> + +<p>"See 'em fairly spliced first," replied the Magus; "that's +vot I betted."</p> + +<p>"Vell, vell, a few minutes will settle that. Come, pals, to +the autem ken. Avay. Mind and obey orders."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay," answered the crew.</p> + +<p>"Here's a torch for the altar of Hymen," said the knight, +flashing his torch in the eyes of the patrico as he passed him.</p> + +<p>"For the halter of Haman, you might say," returned Balthazar, +sulkily. "It's well if some of us don't swing for it."</p> + +<p>"You don't say," rejoined the perplexed Magus, "swing! +Egad I fear it's a ticklish business. But there's no fighting shy, +I fear, with Barbara present; and then there's that infernal +autem-bawler; it will be so cursedly regular. If you had done +the job, Balty, it would not have signified a brass farden. +Luckily there will be no vitnesses to snitch upon us. There +will be no one in the vault besides ourselves."</p> + +<p>"There will be a silent and a solemn witness," returned +Balthazar, "and one whom you expect not."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Eh! Vot's that you say? a spy?"</p> + +<p>But the patrico was gone.</p> + +<p>"Make way there—make way, pals, for the bride and bridegroom," +cried the knight of Malta, drawing Excalibur, and preparing +to lead the way to the vault.</p> + +<p>The train began to move. Eleanor leaned upon the arm of +her mother. Beside them stalked Barbara, with an aspect of +triumph. Luke followed with the priest. One by one the assemblage +quitted the apartment.</p> + +<p>The sexton alone lingered. "The moment is at hand," +said he, musingly, "when all shall be consummated."</p> + +<p>A few steps brought him into the court. The crowd was +there still. A brief delay had taken place. The knight of +Malta then entered the mouth of the vault. He held his +torch so as to reveal a broken flight of steps, conducting, it +would seem, to regions of perpetual night. So thought +Eleanor, as she shudderingly gazed into the abyss. She +hesitated; she trembled; she refused. But her mother's +entreaties, and Barbara's threatening looks, induced, in the end, +reluctant compliance. At length the place was empty. Peter +was about to follow, when the sound of a horse's hoofs broke +upon his ear. He tarried for an instant, and the mounted +figure of the highwayman burst within the limits of the court.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha! old earthworm," cried Dick, "my Nestor of the +churchyard, alone! Where the devil are all the folks gone? +Where's Sir Luke and his new-found cousin, eh?"</p> + +<p>Peter hastily explained.</p> + +<p>"A wedding under ground? famous! the thing of all others +I should like to see. I'll hang Bess to this ivy tod, and grub +my way with you thither, old mole."</p> + +<p>"You must stay here, and keep guard," returned Peter.</p> + +<p>"May I be hanged if I do, when such fun is going on."</p> + +<p>"Hanged, in all probability, you will be," returned Peter; +"but I should not, were I you, desire to anticipate my destiny. +Stay here you must, and shall—that's peremptory. You will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> +be the gainer by it. Sir Luke will reward you nobly. I will +answer for him. You can serve him most effectually. Ranulph +Rookwood and Major Mowbray are expected here."</p> + +<p>"The devil they are. But how, or why——"</p> + +<p>"I have not time to explain. In case of a surprise, discharge +a pistol; they must not enter the vault. Have you a +whistle? for you must play a double part, and we may need +your assistance below."</p> + +<p>"Sir Luke may command me. Here's a pipe as shrill as +the devil's own cat-call."</p> + +<p>"If it will summon you to our assistance below, 'tis all I +need. May we rely on you?"</p> + +<p>"When did Dick Turpin desert his friends? Anywhere on +this side the Styx the sound of that whistle will reach me. I'll +ride about the court, and stand sentry."</p> + +<p>"Enough," replied the sexton, as he dived under ground.</p> + +<p>"Take care of your shins," shouted Dick. "That's a cursed +ugly turn, but he's used to the dark. A surprise, eh! I'll +just give a look to my snappers—flints all safe. Now I'm +ready for them, come when they like." And, having made the +circuit of the place, he halted near the mouth of the subterranean +chapel, to be within hearing of Peter's whistle, and, +throwing his right leg lazily over his saddle, proceeded coolly +to light a short pipe—the luxury of the cigar being then unknown,—humming +the while snatches of a ballad, the theme of +which was his own calling.</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE SCAMPSMAN</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 25em;"><p class="center">Quis verè rex?</p> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Seneca.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is not a king, should you search the world round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So blithe as the king of the road to be found;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His pistol's his sceptre, his saddle's his throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence he levies supplies, or enforces a loan.<br /></span> +<span class="i18"><i>Derry down.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To this monarch the highway presents a wide field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where each passing subject a tribute must yield;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His palace—the tavern!—receives him at night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where sweet lips and sound liquor crown all with delight.<br /></span> +<span class="i18"><i>Derry down.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The soldier and sailor, both robbers by trade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full soon on the shelf, if disabled, are laid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The one gets a patch, and the other a peg,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, while luck lasts, the highwayman shakes a loose leg!<br /></span> +<span class="i18"><i>Derry down.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Most fowl rise at dawn, but the owl wakes at e'en,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a jollier bird can there nowhere be seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the owl, our snug scampsman his snooze takes by day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, when night draws her curtain, scuds after his prey!<br /></span> +<span class="i18"><i>Derry down.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As the highwayman's life is the fullest of zest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So the highwayman's death is the briefest and best;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He dies not as other men die, by <i>degrees</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But <span class="smcapl">at once</span>! without wincing, and quite at his ease!<br /></span> +<span class="i18"><i>Derry down.</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>And thus, for the present, we leave him. O rare Dick +Turpin!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X3" id="CHAPTER_X3"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>SAINT CYPRIAN'S CELL</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch' entrate.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Dante.</span></p></div> + + +<p>Cyprian de Mulverton, fifth prior of the monastery of Saint +Francis, a prelate of singular sanctity, being afflicted, in his +latter days, with a despondency so deep that neither penance +nor fasting could remove it, vowed never again to behold, with +earthly eyes, the blessed light of heaven, nor to dwell longer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +with his fellowmen; but, relinquishing his spiritual dignity, +"the world forgetting, by the world forgot," to immure himself, +while living, within the tomb.</p> + +<p>He kept his vow. Out of the living rock that sustained the +saintly structure, beneath the chapel of the monastery, was +another chapel wrought, and thither, after bidding an eternal +farewell to the world, and bestowing his benediction upon his +flock, whom he committed to the care of his successor, the +holy man retired.</p> + +<p>Never, save at midnight, and then only during the performance +of masses for his soul's repose, did he ascend from his +cell: and as the sole light allowed within the dismal dungeon +of his choice was that of a sepulchral lamp, as none spoke with +him when in his retreat, save in muttered syllables, what effect +must the lustre emanating from a thousand tapers, the warm +and pungent odors of the incense-breathing shrine, contrasted +with the earthy vapors of his prison-house, and the solemn +swell of the Sanctus, have had upon his excited senses? +Surely they must have seemed like a foretaste of the heaven he +sought to gain!</p> + +<p>Ascetic to the severest point to which nature's endurance +could be stretched, Cyprian even denied himself repose. He +sought not sleep, and knew it only when it stole on him unawares. +His couch was the flinty rock; and long afterwards, +when the zealous resorted to the sainted prior's cell, and were +shown those sharp and jagged stones, they marvelled how one +like unto themselves could rest, or even recline upon their +points without anguish, until it was explained to them that, +doubtless, He who tempereth the wind to the shorn lamb had +made that flinty couch soft to the holy sufferer as a bed of +down. His limbs were clothed in a garb of horsehair of the +coarsest fabric; his drink was the dank drops that oozed from +the porous walls of his cell; and his sustenance, such morsels +as were bestowed upon him by the poor—the only strangers +permitted to approach him. No fire was suffered, where perpetual<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +winter reigned. None were admitted to his nightly +vigils; none witnessed any act of penance; nor were any +groans heard to issue from that dreary cave; but the knotted, +blood-stained thong, discovered near his couch, too plainly +betrayed in what manner those long lone nights were spent. +Thus did a year roll on. Traces of his sufferings were visible +in his failing strength. He could scarcely crawl; but he +meekly declined assistance. He appeared not, as had been +his wont, at the midnight mass; the door of his cell was thrown +open at that hour; the light streamed down like a glory upon +his reverend head; he heard the distant reverberations of +the deep <i>Miserere</i>; and breathed odors as if wafted from +Paradise.</p> + +<p>One morn it chanced that they who sought his cell found +him with his head upon his bosom, kneeling before the image +of the virgin patroness of his shrine. Fearing to disturb his +devotions, they stood reverently looking on; and thus silently +did they tarry for an hour; but, as in that space he had shown +no signs of motion, fearing the worst, they ventured to +approach him. He was cold as the marble before which he +knelt. In the act of humblest intercession—it may be, in the +hope of grace—had Cyprian's spirit fled.</p> + +<p>"Blessed are they who die in the Lord," exclaimed his +brethren, regarding his remains with deepest awe. On being +touched, the body fell to the ground. It was little more than +a skeleton.</p> + +<p>Under the cloisters of the holy pile were his bones interred, +with a degree of pomp and ostentation that little accorded +with the lowliness and self-abasement of this man of many +sorrows.</p> + +<p>This chapel, at the time of which we treat, was pretty much +in the same condition as it existed in the days of its holy inmate. +Hewn out of the entrails of the rock, the roof, the +vaults, the floor, were of solid granite. Three huge cylindrical +pillars, carved out of the native rock, rough as the stems of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> +gnarled oak-trees, lent support to the ceiling. Support, however, +was unneeded; an earthquake would scarce have shaken +down those solid rafters. Only in one corner, where the water +welled through a crevice of the rock, in drops that fell like +tears, was decay manifest. Here the stone, worn by the constant +dripping, had, in some places, given way. In shape, the +vault was circular. The integral between each massive pillar +formed a pointed arch. Again, from each pillar sprang other +arches, which, crossed by diagonal, ogive branches, weaving +one into the other, and radiating from the centre, formed +those beautifully intricate combinations upon which the eye of +the architectural enthusiast loves to linger. Within the ring +formed by these triple columns, in which again the pillars had +their own web of arches, was placed an altar of stone, and +beside it a crucifix of the same rude material. Here also stood +the sainted image of her who had filled the prior with holy +aspirations, now a shapeless stone. The dim lamp, that, like +a star struggling with the thick gloom of a wintry cell, had +shed its slender radiance over the brow of the Virgin Thecla, +was gone. But around the keystone of the central arches, +whence a chain had once depended, might be traced in ancient +characters, half effaced by time, the inscription:</p> + +<p class="cb">STA. THECLA ORA PRO NOBIS.</p> + +<p>One outlet only was there from the chapel—that which led +by winding steps to the monastery; one only recess—the +prior's cell. The former faced the altar; the latter yawned +like the mouth of a tomb at its back. Altogether it was a +dreary place. Dumb were its walls as when they refused to +return the murmured orisons of the anchorite. One uniform +sad coloring prevailed throughout. The gray granite was +grown hoar with age, and had a ghostly look; the columns +were ponderous, and projected heavy shadows. Sorrow and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> +superstition had their tale, and a moral gloom deepened +the darkness of the spot. Despair, which had inspired its +construction, seemed to brood therein. Hope shunned its +inexorable recesses.</p> + +<p>Alone, within this dismal sanctuary, with hands outstretched +towards the desecrated image of its tutelar saint, knelt Sybil. +All was darkness. Neither the heavy vapors that surrounded +her, nor the shrine before which she bent, were visible; but, +familiar with the dreary spot, she knew that she had placed +herself aright. Her touch had satisfied her that she bowed +before the altar of stone; that her benighted vision was turned +towards the broken image of the saint, though now involved in +gloom the most profound; and with clasped hands and streaming +eyes, in low and mournful tones, she addressed herself in +the following hymn to the tutelar saint of the spot:</p> + + +<p class="hd1">HYMN TO SAINT THECLA</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 21em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In my trouble, in my anguish,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the depths of my despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As in grief and pain I languish,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unto thee I raise my prayer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sainted virgin! martyr'd maiden!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let thy countenance incline<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon one with woes o'erladen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Kneeling lowly at thy shrine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in agony, in terror,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In her blind perplexity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wandering weak in doubt and error,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Calleth feebly upon thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sinful thoughts, sweet saint, oppress me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thoughts that will not be dismissed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Temptations dark possess me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which my strength may not resist.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am full of pain, and weary<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of my life; I fain would die:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto me the world is dreary;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the grave for rest I fly.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> +<span class="i0">For rest!—oh! could I borrow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy bright wings, celestial dove!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They should waft me from my sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where peace dwells in bowers above.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Upon one with woes o'erladen,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Kneeling lowly at thy shrine;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sainted virgin! martyr'd maiden!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Let thy countenance incline!<br /></span> +<span class="i9"><i>Mei miserere Virgo,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Requiem æternam dona!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By thy loveliness, thy purity,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unpolluted, undefiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in serene security<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon earth's temptations smiled;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the fetters that constrain'd thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By thy flame-attested faith,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the fervor that sustain'd thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By thine angel-ushered death;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By thy soul's divine elation,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Mid thine agonies assuring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thy sanctified translation<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To beatitude enduring;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the mystic interfusion<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of thy spirit with the rays,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in ever bright profusion<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round the Throne Eternal blaze;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By thy portion now partaken,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the pain-perfected just;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look on one of hope forsaken,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the gates, of mercy thrust.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Upon one with woes o'erladen,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Kneeling lowly at thy shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sainted virgin! martyr'd maiden!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Let thy countenance incline!<br /></span> +<span class="i9"><i>Ora pro me mortis horâ!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i9"><i>Sancta Virgo, oro te!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Kyrie Eleison!</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>The sweet, sad voice of the singer died faintly away. The +sharpness of her sorrow was assuaged. Seldom, indeed, is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +it that fervent supplication fails to call down solace to the +afflicted. Sybil became more composed. She still, however, +trembled at the thoughts of what remained to be done.</p> + +<p>"They will be here ere my prayer is finished," murmured +she—"ere the end is accomplished for which I came hither +alone. Let me, oh! let me make my peace with my Creator, +ere I surrender my being to His hands, and then let them deal +with me as they will." And she bowed her head in lowly prayer.</p> + +<p>Again raising her hands, and casting her eyes towards the +black ceiling, she implored, in song, the intercession of the +saintly man who had bequeathed his name to the cell.</p> + + +<p class="hd1">HYMN TO SAINT CYPRIAN</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 22em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hear! oh! hear me, sufferer holy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who didst make thine habitation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mid these rocks, devoting wholly<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Life to one long expiation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thy guiltiness, and solely<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By severe mortification<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Didst deliver thee. Oh! hear me!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In my dying moments cheer me.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">By thy penance, self-denial,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Aid me in the hour of trial.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">May, through thee, my prayers prevailing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the Majesty of Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the hosts of hell, assailing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My soul, in this dark hour be driven!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So my spirit, when exhaling,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">May of sinfulness be shriven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And His gift unto the Giver<br /></span> +<span class="i2">May be rendered pure as ever!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">By thy own dark, dread possession,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Aid me with thine intercession!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Scarcely had she concluded this hymn, when the torch of +the knight of Malta in part dissipated the gloom that hung +around the chapel.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI3" id="CHAPTER_XI3"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>THE BRIDAL</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 25em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Cari.</i> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">I will not die; I must not. I am contracted</span><br /></span> +<span class="i5">To a young gentleman.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Executioner.</i> Here's your wedding-ring.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Duchess of Malfy.</i></p></div> + + +<p>Slowly did the train descend; solemnly and in silence, as +if the rites at which they were about to assist had been those +of funereal, and not of nuptial, solemnization. Indeed, to look +upon those wild and fierce faces by the ruddily-flashing torchlight, +which lent to each a stern and savage expression; to see +those scowling visages surrounding a bride from whose pallid +cheeks every vestige of color, and almost of animation, had +fled; and a bridegroom, with a countenance yet more haggard, +and demeanor yet more distracted—the beholder must have +imagined that the spectacle was some horrible ceremonial, +practised by demons rather than human beings. The arched +vault, the pillars, the torchlight, the deep shadows, and the +wild figures, formed a picture worthy of Rembrandt or +Salvator.</p> + +<p>"Is Sybil within the chapel?" asked Barbara.</p> + +<p>"I am here," returned a voice from the altar.</p> + +<p>"Why do we tarry?" said the gipsy queen. "We are all +assembled. To the altar."</p> + +<p>"To the altar!" shrieked Eleanor. "Oh! no—no——"</p> + +<p>"Remember my threat, and obey," muttered Barbara. +"You are in my power now."</p> + +<p>A convulsive sob was all the answer Eleanor could make.</p> + +<p>"Our number is not complete," said the priest, who had +looked in vain for the sexton. "Peter Bradley is not with +us."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ha!" exclaimed Barbara. "Let him be sought for instantly."</p> + +<p>"Their search need not extend beyond this spot," said +Peter, stepping forward.</p> + +<p>The knight of Malta advanced towards the altar. The +torchlight reddened upon the huge stone pillars. It fell upon +the shrine, and upon the ghastly countenance of Sybil, who +stood beside it. Suddenly, as the light approached her, an +object, hitherto hidden from view, was revealed. Sybil uttered +a prolonged and fearful shriek; the knight recoiled likewise in +horror; and a simultaneous cry of astonishment burst from the +lips of the foremost of the group. All crowded forwards, and +universal consternation prevailed amongst the assemblage. +Each one gazed at his neighbor, anxious to learn the occasion +of this tumult, and vague fears were communicated to those +behind, from the terrified glances, which were the only answers +returned by their comrades in front.</p> + +<p>"Who has dared to bring that body here?" demanded +Barbara, in a tone in which anger struggled with apprehension, +pointing at the same time to the ghastly corpse of a female, +with streaming hair, at the altar's feet. "Who has dared to +do this, I say? Quick! remove it. What do you stare at? +Cravens! is this the first time you have looked upon a corpse, +that you should shrink aghast—that you tremble before it? It +is a clod—ay, less than a clod. Away with it! away, I say."</p> + +<p>"Touch it not," cried Luke, lifting a cloud of black hair +from off the features; "it is my mother's body."</p> + +<p>"My daughter!" exclaimed the sexton.</p> + +<p>"What!" vociferated Barbara, "is that your daughter—is +that the first Lady Rookwood? Are the dead arisen to do +honor to these nuptials? Speak! you can, perchance, explain +how she came hither."</p> + +<p>"I know not," returned Peter, glancing fiercely at Barbara; +"I may, anon, demand that question of you. How came this +body here?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ask of Richard Checkley," said Barbara, turning to the +priest. "He can, perchance, inform you. Priest," added +she, in a low voice, "this is your handiwork."</p> + +<p>"Checkley!" screamed Peter. "Is that Richard Checkley? +is that——"</p> + +<p>"Peace!" thundered Barbara; "will none remove the +body? Once more I ask you, do you fear the dead?"</p> + +<p>A murmur arose. Balthazar alone ventured to approach +the corpse.</p> + +<p>Luke started to his feet as he advanced, his eyes glaring +with tiger fury.</p> + +<p>"Back, old man," cried he, "and dare not, any of you, to +lay a sacrilegious finger on her corse, or I will stretch him that +advances as lowly as lies my mother's head. When or how it +came hither matters not. Here, at the altar, has it been +placed, and none shall move it hence. The dead shall witness +my nuptials. Fate has ordained it—<i>my</i> fate! o'er which the +dead preside. Her ring shall link me to my bride. I knew +not, when I snatched it from her death-cold finger, to what +end I preserved it. I learn it now. It is here." And he +held forth a ring.</p> + +<p>"'Tis a fatal boon, that twice-used ring," cried Sybil; "such +a ring my mother, on her death-bed, said should be mine. +Such a ring she said should wed me——"</p> + +<p>"Unto whom?" fiercely demanded Luke.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Unto Death!</span>" she solemnly rejoined.</p> + +<p>Luke's countenance fell. He turned aside, deeply abashed, +unable further to brook her gaze; while in accents of such +wildly touching pathos as sank into the hearts of each who +heard her—hearts, few of them framed of penetrable stuff—the +despairing maiden burst into the following strain:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span></p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE TWICE-USED RING</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 19em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Beware thy bridal day!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On her death-bed sighed my mother;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Beware, beware, I say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Death shall wed thee, and no other.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Cold the hand shall grasp thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Cold the arms shall clasp thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Colder lips thy kiss shall smother!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Beware thy bridal kiss!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thy wedding ring shall be<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From a clay-cold finger taken;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From one that, like to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was by her love forsaken.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For a twice-used ring<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Is a fatal thing;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her griefs who wore it are partaken—,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Beware that fatal ring!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The altar and the grave<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Many steps are not asunder;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright banners o'er thee wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shrouded horror lieth under.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Blithe may sound the bell,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Yet 'twill toll thy knell;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Scathed thy chaplet by the thunder—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Beware that blighted wreath!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beware my bridal day!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dying lips my doom have spoken;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep tones call me away;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the grave is sent a token.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Cold, cold fingers bring<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That ill-omen'd ring;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soon will a <i>second</i> heart be broken;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>This</i> is my bridal day.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>There was a deep, profound silence as the last melancholy +cadence died away, and many a rugged heart was melted, even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> +to tears. Eleanor, meanwhile, remained in a state of passive +stupefaction, vacantly gazing at Sybil, upon whom alone her +eyes were fixed, and appearing indistinctly to apprehend the +meaning of her song.</p> + +<p>"This is my bridal day," murmured she, in a low tone, when +Sybil had finished. "Said not that sweet voice so? I know +'tis my bridal day. What a church you have chosen, mother! +A tomb—a sepulchre—but 'tis meet for such nuptials as mine—and +what wedding guests! Was that pale woman in her +shroud-like dress invited here by you? Tell me that, mother."</p> + +<p>"My God, her senses are gone!" cried Mrs. Mowbray. +"Why did I venture into this horrible place?"</p> + +<p>"Ask not <i>why</i> now, madam," rejoined the priest. "The +hour for consideration is past. We must act. Let the marriage +proceed, at all hazards; we will then take means to extricate +ourselves from this accursed place."</p> + +<p>"Remove that horrible object," said Mrs. Mowbray; "it +fascinates the vision of my child."</p> + +<p>"Lend me your hand, Richard Checkley," said Peter, +sternly regarding the priest.</p> + +<p>"No, no," replied the priest, shuddering; "I will not, cannot +touch it. Do you alone remove it."</p> + +<p>Peter approached Luke. The latter now offered no further +opposition, and the body was taken away. The eyes of Eleanor +followed it into the dark recesses of the vault; and when she +could no longer distinguish the white flutter of the cereclothes, +her laboring bosom seemed torn asunder with the profound +sigh that burst from it, and her head declined upon her +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Let me see that ring," said the priest, addressing Luke, +who still held the wedding-ring between his fingers.</p> + +<p>"I am not naturally superstitious," said Mrs. Mowbray; +"whether my mind be affected with the horrors of this place, +I know not; but I have a dread of that ring. She shall not +use it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where no other can be found," said the priest, with a +significant and peculiar look at Mrs. Mowbray, "I see no +reason why this should be rejected. I should not have suspected +you, madam, of such weakness. Grant there were +evil spell, or charm, attached to it, which, trust me, there is +<i>not</i>—as how should there be, to a harmless piece of gold?—my +benediction, and aspersion with holy lymph, will have +sufficient power to exorcise and expel it. To remove your +fears it shall be done at once."</p> + +<p>A cup containing water was brought, together with a plate +of salt—which condiment the devil is said to abhor, and which +is held to be a symbol of immortality and of eternity; in that, +being itself incorruptible, it preserves all else from corruption,—and, +with the customary Romish formula of prayer and exorcism, +the priest thrice mingled the crystal particles with the +pure fluid; after which, taking the ring in his hand with much +solemnity, he sprinkled it with a few drops of the water which +he had blessed; made the sign of the cross upon the golden +circlet; uttered another and more potent exorcism to eradicate +and expel every device of Satan, and delivered it back to Luke.</p> + +<p>"She may wear it now in safety," said the sexton, with +strong contempt. "Were the snake himself coiled round +that consecrated bauble, the prayers of the devout Father +Checkley would unclasp his lithest folds. But wherefore do +we tarry now? Naught lies between us and the altar. The +path is clear. The bridegroom grows impatient."</p> + +<p>"And the bride?" asked Barbara.</p> + +<p>"Is ready," replied the priest. "Madam, delay not longer. +Daughter, your hand."</p> + +<p>Eleanor gave her hand. It was clammy and cold. Supported +by her mother, she moved slowly towards the altar, +which was but a few steps from where they stood. She offered +no resistance, but did not raise her head. Luke was by her +side. Then for the first time did the enormity of the cruel, +dishonorable act he was about to commit, strike him with its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> +full force. He saw it in its darkest colors. It was one of +those terrible moments when the headlong wheel of passion +stands suddenly still.</p> + +<p>"There is yet time," groaned he. "Oh! let me not damn +myself perpetually! Let me save her; save Sybil; save myself."</p> + +<p>They were at the altar—that wild wedding train. High over +head the torch was raised. The red light flashed on bridegroom +and on bride, giving to the pale features of each an +almost livid look; it fell upon the gaunt aspect of the sexton, +and lit up the smile of triumphant malice that played upon his +face; it fell upon the fantastical habiliments of Barbara, and +upon the haughty but perturbed physiognomy of Mrs. Mowbray; +it fell upon the salient points of the Gothic arches; +upon one molded pillar; upon the marble image of the virgin +Thecla; and on the scarcely less marble countenance of Sybil +who stood behind the altar, silent, statue-like, immovable. +The effect of light and shade on other parts of the scene, upon +the wild drapery, and harsh lineaments of many of the group, +was also eminently striking.</p> + +<p>Just as the priest was about to commence the marriage +service, a yelling chorus, which the gipsies were accustomed to +sing at the celebration of the nuptials of one of their own +tribe, burst forth. Nothing could be more horribly discordant +than their song.</p> + + +<p class="hd1">WEDDING CHORUS OF GIPSIES</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 25em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Scrape the catgut! pass the liquor!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let your quick feet move the quicker.<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Ta-ra-la!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Dance and sing in jolly chorus,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bride and bridegroom are before us,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the patrico stands o'er us.<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Ta-ra-la!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">To unite their hands he's ready;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For a moment, pals, be steady;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Cease your quaffing,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Dancing, laughing;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Leave off riot,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And be quiet,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">While 'tis doing.<br /></span> +<span class="i7">'Tis begun,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">All is over!<br /></span> +<span class="i7">Two are <span class="smcapl">ONE</span>!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The patrico has link'd 'em;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Daddy Hymen's torch has blink'd 'em.<br /></span> +<span class="i7">Amen!<br /></span> +<span class="i7">To 't again!<br /></span> +<span class="i7">Now for quaffing,<br /></span> +<span class="i7">Now for laughing,<br /></span> +<span class="i7">Stocking-throwing,<br /></span> +<span class="i7">Liquor flowing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For our bridals are no bridles, and our altars never alter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the flagon never flinch we, in the jig we never falter.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">No! that's not <i>our</i> way, for <i>we</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Are staunch lads of Romany.<br /></span> +<span class="i5">For our wedding, then, hurrah!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>This uncouth chorus ended, the marriage proceeded. Sybil +had disappeared. Had she fled? No! she was by the bride. +Eleanor mechanically took her place. A faint voice syllabled +the responses. You could scarcely have seen Miss Mowbray's +lips move. But the answers were given, and the priest was +satisfied.</p> + +<p>He took the ring, and sprinkled it once again with the holy +water, in the form of the cross. He pronounced the prayer: +"<i>Benedic, Domine, annulum hunc, quem nos in tuo nomine +benedicimus, ut quæ eum gestaverit, fidelitatem integram suo +sponso tenens, in pace et voluntate tua permaneat atque in +mutua charitate semper vivat.</i>"</p> + +<p>He was about to return the ring to Luke, when the torch, +held by the knight of Malta, was dashed to the ground by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> +some unseen hand, and instantly extinguished. The wild +pageant vanished as suddenly as the figures cast by a magic-lantern +upon a wall disappear when the glass is removed. A +wild hubbub succeeded. Hoarsely above the clamor arose the +voice of Barbara.</p> + +<p>"To the door, quickly!—to the door! Let no one pass, I +will find out the author of this mishap anon. Away!"</p> + +<p>She was obeyed. Several of the crew stationed themselves +at the door.</p> + +<p>"Proceed now with the ceremony," continued Barbara. "By +darkness, or by light, the match shall be completed."</p> + +<p>The ring was then placed upon the finger of the bride; and +as Luke touched it, he shuddered. It was cold as that of the +corpse which he had clasped but now. The prayer was said, +the blessing given, the marriage was complete.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there issued from the darkness deep dirge-like +tones, and a voice solemnly chanted a strain, which all knew +to be the death-song of their race, hymned by wailing women +over an expiring sister. The music seemed to float in the +air.</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE SOUL-BELL</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 20em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fast the sand of life is falling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fast her latest sigh exhaling,<br /></span> +<span class="i7">Fast, fast, is she dying.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With death's chills her limbs are shivering,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With death's gasp the lips are quivering,<br /></span> +<span class="i7">Fast her soul away is flying.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O'er the mountain-top it fleeteth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the skyey wonders greeteth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Singing loud as stars it meeteth<br /></span> +<span class="i7">On its way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hark! the sullen Soul-bell tolling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hollowly in echoes rolling,<br /></span> +<span class="i7">Seems to say—<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"She will ope her eyes—oh, never!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quenched their dark light—gone for ever!<br /></span> +<span class="i7">She is dead."<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>The marriage group yet lingered near the altar, awaiting, it +would seem, permission from the gipsy queen to quit the cell. +Luke stirred not. Clasped in his own, the cold hand of his +bride detained him; and when he would have moved, her +tightened grasp prevented his departure.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mowbray's patience was exhausted by the delay. She +was not altogether free from apprehension. "Why do we +linger here?" she whispered to the priest. "Do you, father, +lead the way."</p> + +<p>"The crowd is dense," replied Checkley. "They resist my +effort."</p> + +<p>"Are we prisoners here?" asked Mrs. Mowbray, in alarm.</p> + +<p>"Let me make the attempt," cried Luke, with fiery impatience. +"I will force a passage out."</p> + +<p>"Quit not your bride," whispered Peter, "as you value her +safety. Heed not aught else. She alone is in danger. Suffer +her not to be withdrawn from your hand, if you would not +lose her. Remain here. I will bring the matter to a speedy +issue."</p> + +<p>"Enough," replied Luke; "I stir not hence." And he +drew his bride closer towards him. He stooped to imprint +a kiss upon her lips. A cold shudder ran through +her frame as he touched them, but she resisted not his +embrace.</p> + +<p>Peter's attempt to effect an egress was as unsuccessful as +that of the priest. Presenting Excalibur at his bosom, the +knight of Malta challenged him to stand.</p> + +<p>"You cannot pass," exclaimed the knight; "our orders are +peremptory."</p> + +<p>"What am I to understand by this?" said Peter, angrily. +"Why are we detained?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You will learn all anon," returned Barbara. "In the +meantime you are my prisoners—or, if you like not the phrase, +my wedding guests."</p> + +<p>"The wedding is complete," returned the sexton; "the +bride and bridegroom are impatient to depart, and we, the +guests—albeit some of us may be no foes to darkness—desire +not to hold our nuptial revels here."</p> + +<p>"Sybil's wedding has not taken place," said Barbara; "you +must tarry for that."</p> + +<p>"Ha! now it comes," thought Peter. "And who, may I +ask," said he, aloud, "amongst this goodly company, is to be +her bridegroom?"</p> + +<p>"The best amongst them," returned Barbara—"Sir Luke +Rookwood."</p> + +<p>"He has a bride already," replied Peter.</p> + +<p>"She may be <i>removed</i>," said Barbara, with bitter and peculiar +emphasis. "Dost understand my meaning now?"</p> + +<p>"I will not understand it," said Peter. "You cannot mean +to destroy her who now stands at the altar?"</p> + +<p>"She who now stands at the altar must make way for a successor. +She who grasps the bridegroom's hand shall die. I +swear it by the oath of my tribe."</p> + +<p>"And think you, you will be allowed to execute your murderous +intention with impunity?" shrieked Mrs. Mowbray, in +an agony of terror. "Think you that I will stand by and see +my child slaughtered before my face; that my friends will suffer +it? Think you that even your own tribe will dare to execute +your horrible purpose? They will not. They will side with +us. Even now they murmur. What can you hope to gain by +an act so wild and dreadful? What object can you have?"</p> + +<p>"The same as your own," reiterated Barbara—"the advancement +of my child. Sybil is as dear to me as Eleanor is +to you. She is my child's child, the daughter of my best beloved +daughter. I have sworn to marry her to Sir Luke Rookwood. +The means are in my power. I will keep my vow; I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> +will wed her to him. You did not hesitate to tear your daughter +from the man she loved, to give her to the man she hated; +and for what? For gold—for power—for rank. I have the +same motive. I love my child, and she loves Sir Luke—has +loved him long and truly; therefore shall she have him. +What to me is <i>your</i> child, or <i>your</i> feelings, except they are +subservient to my wishes? She stands in my way. I remove +her."</p> + +<p>"Who placed her in your path?" asked the sexton. "Did +you not lend a helping hand to create that obstacle yourself?"</p> + +<p>"I did," replied Barbara. "Would you know wherefore? +I will tell you. I had a double motive for it. There is a curse +upon the house of Rookwood, that kills the first fair bride +each generation leads to the altar. Have you never heard of +it?"</p> + +<p>"I have! And did that idle legend sway you?"</p> + +<p>"And do you call it idle? <i>You!</i> Well—I had another +motive—a prophecy."</p> + +<p>"By yourself uttered," replied Peter.</p> + +<p>"Even so," replied Barbara. "The prophecy is fulfilled. +The stray rook is found. The rook hath with rook mated. +Luke hath wedded Eleanor. He will hold possession of his +lands. The prophecy is fulfilled."</p> + +<p>"But <i>how</i>?" asked Peter; "will your art tell you how and +why he shall now hold possession? Can you tell me that?"</p> + +<p>"My art goes not so far. I have predicted the event. It +has come to pass. I am satisfied. He has wedded her. Be +it mine to free him from that yoke." And Barbara laughed +exultingly.</p> + +<p>The sexton approached the old crone, and laid his hand +with violence upon her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Hear <i>me</i>," cried he, "and I will tell you that which your +juggling art refuses to reveal. Eleanor Mowbray is heir to the +lands of Rookwood! The estates are <i>hers</i>! They were +bequeathed to her by her grandsire, Sir Reginald."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She was unborn when he died," cried Mrs. Mowbray.</p> + +<p>"True," replied Peter; "but the lands were left to your +issue <i>female</i>, should such issue be born."</p> + +<p>"And did Sir Piers, my brother, know of this? did he see +this will," asked Mrs. Mowbray, with trembling impatience.</p> + +<p>"He did; and withheld the knowledge of it from you and +yours."</p> + +<p>"Ah! why knew I not this before? Why did you not tell +me ere that was done which cannot be undone? I have +sacrificed my child."</p> + +<p>"Because it did not chime with my purposes to tell you," +replied Peter, coldly.</p> + +<p>"It is false—it is false," cried Mrs. Mowbray, her anger +and vexation getting the better of her fears. "I will not +believe it. Who are you, that pretend to know the secrets of +our house?"</p> + +<p>"One of that house," replied the sexton.</p> + +<p>"Your name?"</p> + +<p>"Would you know my name?" answered Peter, sternly. +"The time is come when I will no longer conceal it. I am +Alan Rookwood."</p> + +<p>"My father's brother!" exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray.</p> + +<p>"Ay, Alan Rookwood. The sworn enemy of your father—of +you—of all of ye: your fate—your destiny—your curse. I +am that Alan Rookwood whose name you breathed in the +vault. I am he, the avenger—the avenged. I saw your +father die. I heard his groans—<i>his groans!</i>—ha, ha! I saw +his sons die: one fell in battle—I was with him there. The +other expired in his bed. I was with Sir Piers when he +breathed his last, and listened to his death agonies. 'Twas I +who counselled him to keep the lands from you and from your +child, and he withheld them. One only amongst the race, whose +name I have cast off, have I loved; and him—because," +added he, with something like emotion—"because he was my +daughter's child—Luke Rookwood. And even he shall minister<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> +to my vengeance. He will be your curse—your daughter's +curse—for he loves her not. Yet he is her husband, and +hath her land;—ha, ha!" And he laughed till he became +convulsed with the paroxysm of fiendish exultation.</p> + +<p>"Mine ears are stunned," cried Mrs. Mowbray.</p> + +<p>"The bride is mine; relinquish her to me," said Barbara. +"Advance and seize her, my children."</p> + +<p>Alan Rookwood—for so we shall henceforth denominate the +sexton—suddenly grew calm: he raised the whistle to his lips, +and blew a call so loud and shrill, that those who were advancing +hung back irresolute.</p> + +<p>There was a rush at the door of the vault. The sentinels +were struck down; and with pistols in each hand, and followed by +two assistants, Dick Turpin sprang into the thick of the crew.</p> + +<p>"Here we are," cried he, "ready for action. Where is Sir +Luke Rookwood? where my churchyard pal, Peter?"</p> + +<p>"Here," cried the sexton and Luke simultaneously.</p> + +<p>"Then stand aside," cried Dick, pushing in the direction of +the sounds, and bearing down all opposition. "Have a care +there—these triggers are ticklish. Friend or foe, he who +touches me shall have a bullet in his gizzard. Here I am, pal +Peter; and here are my two chums, Rust and Wilder. Cut +the whid."</p> + +<p>"Have we license to pass scathless now?" asked the sexton; +"or shall we make good our way?"</p> + +<p>"You shall not pass," cried Barbara, furiously. "Think +you to rob me of my prey? What, cowards! do you hesitate? +Ha!"</p> + +<p>"Kindle the torches," cried several voices. "We fight not +in the dark."</p> + +<p>A pistol was flashed. The torch again blazed. Its light +fell upon a tumultuous group.</p> + +<p>"Seize the bride," cried Barbara.</p> + +<p>"Hold!" exclaimed a voice from the altar. The voice +was that of Sybil.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span></p> + +<p>Her hand was clasped in that of Luke. Eleanor had fainted +in the arms of the gipsy girl Handassah.</p> + +<p>"Are you my bride?" ejaculated Luke, in dismay.</p> + +<p>"Behold the ring upon my finger! Your own hand placed +it there."</p> + +<p>"Betrayed!" screamed Alan, in a voice of anguish. "My +schemes annihilated—myself undone—my enemies triumphant—lost! +lost! All is destroyed—all!"</p> + +<p>"Joy! joy!" exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray: "my child is +saved."</p> + +<p>"And <i>mine</i> destroyed," groaned Barbara. "I have sworn +by the cross to slay the bride—and Sybil is that bride."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII3" id="CHAPTER_XII3"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>ALAN ROOKWOOD</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 20em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wolf shall find her grave, and scrape it up;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to devour the corse, but to discover<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The horrid murther.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Webster.</span></p></div> + + +<p>"Bravo! capital!" cried Turpin, laughing loud and long +as an Olympian deity; "has this simple wench outwitted you +all; turned the tables upon the whole gang of plotters, eh? +Excellent! ha, ha, ha! The next time you wed, Sir Luke, +let me advise you not to choose a wife in the dark. A man +should have all his senses about him on these occasions. Make +love when the liquor's in; marry when it's out, and, above all, +with your eyes open. This beats cock-fighting—ha, ha, ha!—you +must excuse me; but, upon my soul, I can't help it." +And his laughter seemed inextinguishable.</p> + +<p>"Take your men without," whispered Alan Rookwood; +"keep watch as before, and let the discharge of a pistol<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> +bespeak the approach of danger as agreed upon; much yet +remains to be done here."</p> + +<p>"How so?" asked Dick; "it seems to me the job's entirely +settled—if not to <i>your</i> satisfaction. I'm always ready to oblige +my friend, Sir Luke; but curse me if I'd lend my help to any +underhand work. Steer clear of foul play, or Dick Turpin +holds no hand with you. As to that poor wench, if you mean +her any harm, curse me if I will——"</p> + +<p>"No harm is intended her," replied Alan. "I applaud +your magnanimity," added he, sarcastically; "such sentiments +are, it must be owned, in excellent keeping with your conduct."</p> + +<p>"In keeping or not," replied Turpin, gravely, "cold-blooded +murder is altogether out of my line, and I wash my hands of +it. A shot or two in self defence is another matter; and +when——"</p> + +<p>"A truce to this," interrupted Alan; "the girl is safe. Will +you mount guard again?"</p> + +<p>"If that be the case, certainly," replied Dick. "I shall be +glad to get back to Bess. I couldn't bring her with me into +this black hole. A couple of shots will tell you 'tis Ranulph +Rookwood. But mind, no harm to the gipsy girl—to Lady +Rookwood, I should say. She's a jewel, take my word for it, +which Sir Luke must be mad to throw away." And calling +his companions, he departed.</p> + +<p>Alan Rookwood bent his steps towards the gipsy queen. +Dark thoughts gathered quickly o'er his brow. He smiled as +he drew nigh to Barbara—a smile it was</p> + +<p class="hd4">That wrinkled up his skin even to the hair.</p> + +<p>Barbara looked at him at first with distrust; but as he developed +his secret purposes, that smile became reflected upon +her own features. Their conference took place apart. We +willingly leave them to return to the altar.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Mowbray and the priest were still there. Both were +occupied in ineffectual endeavors to restore Eleanor to consciousness. +She recovered from her swoon; but it was evident +her senses still wandered; and vainly did Mrs. Mowbray lavish +her tenderest caresses upon her child. Eleanor returned +them not.</p> + +<p>Luke, meanwhile, had given vent to the wildest fury. He +shook away Sybil's grasp; he dashed her from him; he +regarded her with withering glances; he loaded her with +reproaches. She bore his violence with meekest submission; +she looked imploringly—but she replied not to his taunts. +Again she clung to the hem of his garment when cast aside. +Luke appeared unmoved; what passed within we pause not to +examine. He grew calmer; his calmness was more terrible to +Sybil than his previous wrath had been.</p> + +<p>"You are my wife," said he; "what then? By fraud, by +stratagem, you have obtained that title, and, perforce, must +keep it. But the title <i>only</i> shall you retain. No rights of +wife shall ever be yours. It will be in your power to call +yourself Lady Rookwood—you will be so in name—in nothing +else."</p> + +<p>"I shall not bear it long," murmured Sybil.</p> + +<p>Luke laughed scornfully, "So you said before," replied +he; "and yet I see not why you are likely to abandon it. The +event will show. Thus far you have deceived me, and I place +no further faith in your assertions. My hand was yours; you +refused it. When I would give it to another, you grasp it +clandestinely. Am I to believe you now? The wind will +change—the vane veer with it."</p> + +<p>"It will not veer from you," she meekly answered.</p> + +<p>"Why did you step between me and my bride?"</p> + +<p>"To save her life; to lay down mine for hers."</p> + +<p>"An idle subterfuge. You know well that you run no risk +of being called upon to do so. Your life is in no danger. The +sacrifice was unnecessary. I could have dispensed with <i>your</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> +assistance; my own arm would have sufficed to protect +Eleanor."</p> + +<p>"Your single arm would not have prevailed against numbers: +they would have killed you likewise."</p> + +<p>"Tush!" said Luke, fiercely. "Not only have you snatched +from me my bride, you have robbed me of my fair estates, of +all, save of my barren title, and that, even <i>that</i>, you have +tarnished."</p> + +<p>"True, true," sighed Sybil. "I knew not that the lands +were hers, else had I never done it."</p> + +<p>"False, false," cried Luke; "false as the rest. <i>They</i> will +be Ranulph's. <i>She</i> will be Ranulph's. I shall still be an outcast, +while Ranulph will riot in my halls—will press her to +his bosom. Cling not to me. Hence! or I will spurn +you from me. I am undone, undone by you, accursed +one."</p> + +<p>"Oh, curse me not! your words cut deep enough."</p> + +<p>"Would they could kill you," cried Luke, with savage bitterness. +"You have placed a bar between me and my prospects, +which nothing can now remove—nothing but—ha!" +and his countenance assumed a deadly hue and fearful expression. +"By Heaven, you almost rouse the fell spirit which it +is said dwells within the breast of my devoted race. I feel as +if I could stab thee."</p> + +<p>"No, no!" shrieked Sybil; "for mercy's sake, for your own +sake, do not stab me. It is not too late. I will repair my +wrong!"</p> + +<p>"Ever deceiving! you would again delude me. You cannot +repair it. One way alone remains, and that——"</p> + +<p>"I will pursue," responded Sybil, sadly, but firmly.</p> + +<p>"Never!" cried Luke; "you shall not. Ha!" exclaimed +he, as he found his arms suddenly pinioned behind him. +"What new treachery is this? By whose orders am I thus +fettered?"</p> + +<p>"By mine," said Alan Rookwood, stepping forward.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span></p> + +<p>"By yours?" echoed Luke. "And wherefore? Release +me."</p> + +<p>"Be patient," replied Alan. "You will hear all anon. In +the meantime you must be content to remain my prisoner. +Quit not your hold," added he, addressing the gipsies, who +kept charge of Luke.</p> + +<p>"Their lives shall answer for their obedience," said Barbara.</p> + +<p>Upon a further signal from Alan, Eleanor was torn from her +mother's arms, and a bandage passed so suddenly over Mrs. +Mowbray's face, that, before she could raise a cry of alarm, all +possibility of utterance was effectually prevented. The priest +alone was left at liberty.</p> + +<p>Barbara snatched the hand of Eleanor. She dragged her to +Sybil.</p> + +<p>"You are Lady Rookwood," whispered she; "but she has +your domains. I give her to you."</p> + +<p>"She is the <i>only bar</i> between thy husband and his rights," +whispered Alan Rookwood, in a tone of horrible irony; "<i>it is +not too late to repair your wrong</i>."</p> + +<p>"Away, tempter!" cried Sybil, horror-stricken. "I know +you well. Yet," continued she, in an altered tone, "I will +risk all for him. I have done him wrong. One mode of +atonement remains; and, horrible though it be, I will embrace +it. Let me not pause. Give her to me." And she seized +upon the unresisting hand of Eleanor.</p> + +<p>"Do you need my aid?" asked Barbara.</p> + +<p>"No," replied Sybil; "let none approach us. A clapping +of hands will let you know when all is over." And she dragged +her passive victim deeper into the vault.</p> + +<p>"Sybil, Sybil!" cried Luke, struggling with frantic violence +to liberate himself; "hurt her not. I was rash. I was mad. +I am calmer now. She hears me not—she will not turn. God +of heaven! she will murder her. It will be done while I +speak. I am the cause of all. Release me, villains! Would +that I had died ere I had seen this day."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span></p> + +<p>At a signal from the sexton, Luke also was blindfolded. He +ceased to struggle. But his laboring breast told of the strife +within.</p> + +<p>"Miscreants!" exclaimed the priest, who had hitherto witnessed +the proceedings in horror. "Why do not these rocks +fall in, and crush you and your iniquities? Save her! oh, save +her! Have you no pity for the innocent?"</p> + +<p>"Such pity have we," replied Alan Rookwood, "as you +showed my daughter. She was as innocent as Eleanor Mowbray, +and yet you did not pity <i>her</i>."</p> + +<p>"Heaven is my witness," exclaimed the priest, "that I never +injured her."</p> + +<p>"Take not Heaven's name in vain," cried Alan. "Who +stood by while it was doing? Whose firmer hand lent aid to +the murderer's trembling efforts? Whose pressure stifled her +thrilling screams, and choked her cries for mercy? Yours—yours; +and now you prate to me of pity—you, the slayer of +the sleeping and the innocent!"</p> + +<p>"'Tis false!" exclaimed the priest, in extremity of terror.</p> + +<p>"False!" echoed Alan. "I had Sir Piers's own confession. +He told me all. You had designs upon Sir Piers, which his +wife opposed; you hated her; you were in the confidence of +both—how did you keep that confidence? He told me <i>how</i>, +by awakening a spirit of jealousy and pride, that o'ermastered +all his better feelings. False! He told me of your hellish +machinations; your Jesuitical plots; your schemes. He was +too weak, too feeble an instrument to serve you. You left him, +but not before <i>she</i> had left him. False! ha, I have that shall +instantly convict you. The corpse is here, within this cell. +Who brought it hither?"</p> + +<p>The priest was silent: he seemed confounded by Alan's +violence.</p> + +<p>"I will answer that question," said Barbara. "It was brought +hither by that false priest. His agent, Balthazar, has betrayed +him. It was brought hither to prevent the discovery of Sir<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> +Luke Rookwood's legitimacy. He meant to make his own +terms about it. It has come hither to proclaim his guilt—to +be a fearful witness against him." Then, turning to Checkley, +she added, "You have called Heaven to witness your innocence: +you shall attest it by oath upon that body; and should +aught indicate your guilt, I will hang you as I would a dog, +and clear off one long score with justice. Do you shrink from +this?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied the priest, in a voice hollow and broken. +"Bring me to the body."</p> + +<p>"Seize each an arm," said Barbara, addressing Zoroaster +and the knight of Malta, "and lead him to the corse."</p> + +<p>"I will administer the oath," said Alan Rookwood, sternly.</p> + +<p>"No, not you," stammered the priest.</p> + +<p>"And wherefore not?" asked Alan. "If you are innocent, +you need fear nothing from her."</p> + +<p>"I fear nothing from the <i>dead</i>," replied Checkley; "lead +on."</p> + +<p>We will now return to Sybil. She was alone with her victim. +They were near the mouth of the cell which had been Prior +Cyprian's flinty dormitory, and were almost involved in darkness. +A broken stream of light glanced through the pillars. +Eleanor had not spoken. She suffered herself to be dragged +thither without resistance, scarcely conscious, it would seem, of +her danger. Sybil gazed upon her for some minutes with sorrow +and surprise. "She comprehends not her perilous situation," +murmured Sybil. "She knows not that she stands upon +the brink of the grave. Oh! would that she could pray. +Shall I, her murderess, pray for her? My prayers would not +be heard. And yet, to kill her unshriven will be a twofold +crime. Let me not look on her. My hand trembles. I can +scarce grasp the dagger. Let me think on all he has said. I +have wronged him. I am his bane, his curse! I have robbed +him of all: there is but one remedy—'tis <i>this</i>!—Oh, God! +she recovers. I cannot do it now."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a fearful moment for Eleanor's revival, when the +bright steel flashed before her eyes. Terror at once restored +her. She cast herself at Sybil's feet.</p> + +<p>"Spare, spare me!" cried she. "Oh! what a dream I have +had. And to waken thus, with the dagger's point at my +breast. You will not kill me—you, gentle maid, who promised +to preserve me. Ah, no, I am sure you will not."</p> + +<p>"Appeal no more to me," said Sybil, fiercely. "Make +your peace with Heaven. Your minutes are numbered."</p> + +<p>"I cannot pray," said Eleanor, "while you are near me."</p> + +<p>"Will you pray if I retire and leave you?"</p> + +<p>"No, no. I dare not—cannot," shrieked Eleanor, in +extremity of terror. "Oh! do not leave me, or let me go."</p> + +<p>"If you stir," said Sybil, "I stab you to the heart."</p> + +<p>"I will not stir. I will kneel here forever. Stab me as I +kneel—as I pray to you. You cannot kill me while I cling +to you thus—while I kiss your hands—while I bedew them +with my tears. Those tears will not sully them like my +blood."</p> + +<p>"Maiden," said Sybil, endeavoring to withdraw her hand, +"let go your hold—your sand is run."</p> + +<p>"Mercy!"</p> + +<p>"It is in vain. Close your eyes."</p> + +<p>"No, I will fix them on you thus—you cannot strike then. +I will cling to you—embrace you. Your nature is not cruel—your +soul is full of pity. It melts—those tears—you will be +merciful. You cannot deliberately kill me."</p> + +<p>"I cannot—I cannot!" said Sybil, with a passionate outburst +of grief. "Take your life on one condition."</p> + +<p>"Name it."</p> + +<p>"That you wed Sir Luke Rookwood."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" exclaimed Eleanor, "all rushes back upon me at +that name; the whole of that fearful scene passes in review +before me."</p> + +<p>"Do you reject my proposal?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I dare not."</p> + +<p>"I must have your oath. Swear by every hope of eternity +that you will wed none other than him."</p> + +<p>"By every hope, I swear it."</p> + +<p>"Handassah, you will bear this maiden's oath in mind, and +witness its fulfilment."</p> + +<p>"I will," replied the gipsy girl, stepping forward from a +recess, in which she had hitherto remained unnoticed.</p> + +<p>"Enough. I am satisfied. Tarry with me. Stir not—scream +not, whatever you may see or hear. Your life depends +upon your firmness. When I am no more——"</p> + +<p>"No more?" echoed Eleanor, in horror.</p> + +<p>"Be calm," said Sybil. "When I am dead, clap your +hands together. They will come to seek you—they will find +me in your stead. Then rush to him—to Sir Luke Rookwood. +He will protect you. Say to him hereafter that I died for +the wrong I did him—that I died, and blessed him."</p> + +<p>"Can you not live, and save me?" sobbed Eleanor.</p> + +<p>"Ask it not. While I live, your life is in danger. When I +am gone, none will seek to harm you. Fare you well! Remember +your oath, and you, too, remember it, Handassah. +Remember also—ha! that groan!"</p> + +<p>All started, as a deep groan knelled in their ears.</p> + +<p>"Whence comes that sound?" cried Sybil. "Hist!—a +voice?"</p> + +<p>"It is that of the priest," cried Eleanor. "Hark! he groans. +They have murdered him! Kind Heaven, receive his soul!"</p> + +<p>"Pray for me," cried Sybil: "pray fervently; avert your +face; down on your knees—down—down! Farewell, Handassah!" +And breaking from them, she rushed into the +darkest recesses of the vault.</p> + +<p>We must now quit this painful scene for another scarcely +less painful, and return to the unfortunate priest.</p> + +<p>Checkley had been brought before the body of Susan Rookwood. +Even in the gloom, the shimmer of the white cereclothes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> +and the pallid features of the corpse, were ghastly +enough. The torchlight made them terrible.</p> + +<p>"Kneel!" said Alan Rookwood. The priest complied. +Alan knelt beside him.</p> + +<p>"Do you know these features?" demanded he. "Regard +them well. Fix your eyes full upon them. Do you know +them?"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"Place your hand upon her breast. Does not the flesh +creep and shrink beneath your touch? Now raise your hand—make +the cross of your faith upon her bosom. By that faith +you swear you are innocent."</p> + +<p>"I do," returned the priest; "are you now satisfied?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Alan. "Let the torch be removed. Your +innocence must be more deeply attested," continued he, as +the light was withdrawn. "This proof will not fail. Entwine +your fingers round her throat."</p> + +<p>"Have I not done enough?"</p> + +<p>"Your hesitation proves your guilt," said Alan.</p> + +<p>"That proof is wanting, then?" returned the priest; "my +hand is upon her throat—what more?"</p> + +<p>"As you hope for mercy in your hour of need, swear that +you never conspired against her life, or refused her mercy."</p> + +<p>"I swear it."</p> + +<p>"May the dead convict you of perjury if you have forsworn +yourself," said Alan; "you are free. Take away your hand!"</p> + +<p>"Ha! what is this?" exclaimed the priest. "You have +put some jugglery upon me. I cannot withdraw my hand. It +sticks to her throat, as though 'twere glued by blood. Tear me +away. I have not force enough to liberate myself. Why do you +grin at me? The corpse grins likewise. It is jugglery. I am +innocent. You would take away my life. Tear me away, I +say: the veins rise; they blacken; they are filling with new +blood. I feel them swell; they coil like living things around +my fingers. She is alive."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And you are innocent?"</p> + +<p>"I am—I am. Let not my ravings convict me. For Jesu's +sake, release me."</p> + +<p>"Blaspheme not, but arise. I hold you not."</p> + +<p>"You do," groaned the priest. "Your grasp tightens round +my throat; your hard and skinny fingers are there—I strangle—help!"</p> + +<p>"Your own fears strangle you. My hand is at my side," +returned Alan calmly.</p> + +<p>"Villain, you lie. Your grasp is like a vice. The strength +of a thousand devils is in your hand. Will none lend help? +I never pressed so hard. Your daughter never suffered this +torture—never—never. I choke—choke—oh!" And the +priest rolled heavily backwards.</p> + +<p>There was a deep groan; a convulsive rattle in the throat; +and all was still.</p> + +<p>"He is dead—strangled," cried several voices, holding +down the torch. The face of the priest was blackened and +contorted; his eyeballs protruded from their sockets; his +tongue was nearly bitten through in the desperate efforts he +had made to release himself from Alan's gripe; his hair was +erect with horror. It was a ghastly sight.</p> + +<p>A murmur arose amongst the gipsies. Barbara deemed it +prudent to appease them.</p> + +<p>"He was guilty," cried she. "He was the murderer of +Susan Rookwood."</p> + +<p>"And I, <i>her father</i>, have avenged her," said Alan, +sternly.</p> + +<p>The dreadful silence that followed this speech was broken +by the report of a pistol. The sound, though startling, was +felt almost as a relief.</p> + +<p>"We are beset," cried Alan. "Some of you fly to reconnoitre."</p> + +<p>"To your posts," cried Barbara.</p> + +<p>Several of the crew flocked to the entrance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Unbind the prisoners," shouted Alan.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mowbray and Luke were accordingly set free.</p> + +<p>Two almost simultaneous reports of a pistol were now heard.</p> + +<p>"'Tis Ranulph Rookwood," said Alan; "that was the preconcerted +signal."</p> + +<p>"Ranulph Rookwood," echoed Eleanor, who caught the +exclamation: "he comes to save me."</p> + +<p>"Remember your oath," gasped a dying voice. "He is no +longer yours."</p> + +<p>"Alas! alas!" sobbed Eleanor, tremblingly.</p> + +<p>A moment afterwards a faint clapping of hands reached the +ears of Barbara.</p> + +<p>"All is over," muttered she.</p> + +<p>"Ha!" exclaimed Alan Rookwood, with a frightful look. +"Is it done?"</p> + +<p>Barbara motioned him towards the further end of the vault.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII3" id="CHAPTER_XIII3"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>MR. COATES</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 29em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Grimm.</i> Look, captain, here comes one of the bloodhounds of justice.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Schw.</i> Down with him. Don't let him utter a word.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Moor.</i> Silence, I will hear him.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Schiller</span>: <i>The Robbers</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>Gladly do we now exchange the dank atmosphere of Saint +Cyprian's cell, and the horrors which have detained us there so +long, for balmy air, genial sunshine, and the boon companionship +of Dick Turpin. Upon regaining the verdant ruins of the +ancient priory, all appeared pretty much as our highwayman +had left it. Dick wended towards his mare. Black Bess +uttered an affectionate whinnying sound as he approached her, +and yielded her sleek neck to his caresses. No Bedouin Arab +ever loved his horse more tenderly than Turpin.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Twill be a hard day when thou and I part!" murmured +he, affectionately patting her soft and silky cheeks. Bess +thrust her nose into his hand, biting him playfully, as much as +to say, "That day will never arrive." Turpin, at least, understood +the appeal in that sense; he was skilled in the language +of the Houyhnhnms. "I would rather lose my right hand than +<i>that</i> should happen," sighed he; "but there's no saying: the +best of friends must part; and thou and I may be one day +separated: thy destination is the knacker—mine, perhaps, the +gibbet.—We are neither of us cut out for old age, that's certain. +Curse me if I can tell how it is; since I've been in that +vault, I've got some queer crotchet into my head. I can't +help likening thee to that poor gipsy wench, Sybil; but may I +be scragged if I'd use thee as her lover has used her. Ha!" +exclaimed he, drawing a pistol with a suddenness that made his +companions, Rust and Wilder, start, "we are watched. See +you not how yon shadow falls from behind the wall?"</p> + +<p>"I do," replied Rust.</p> + +<p>"The varmint shall be speedily unearthed," said Wilder, +rushing to the spot.</p> + +<p>In another instant the shadow manifested itself in a substantial +little personage, booted, spurred, and mud-bespattered. +He was brought before our highwayman, who had, meanwhile, +vaulted into his saddle.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Coates!" cried Dick, bursting into a loud laugh at +the ridiculous figure presented to his view, "or the mud +deceives me."</p> + +<p>"It does not deceive you, Captain Turpin," replied the +attorney; "you do, indeed, behold that twice unfortunate +person."</p> + +<p>"What brings you here?" asked Dick. "Ah! I see, you +are come to pay me my wager."</p> + +<p>"I thought you gave me a <i>discharge</i> for that," rejoined +Coates, unable, even in his distress, to resist the too-tempting +quibble.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span></p> + +<p>"True, but it was <i>in blank</i>," replied Turpin readily; "and +that don't hold good in law, you know. You have thrown +away a second chance. Play or pay, all the world over. I +shan't <i>let you off</i> so easily this time, depend upon it. Come, +post the pony, or take your measure on that sod. No more +replications or rejoinders, sir, down with the dust. Fake his +clies, pals. Let us see what he has about him."</p> + +<p>"In the twinkling of a bed-post," replied Rust. "We'll +turn him inside out. What's here?" cried he, searching +the attorney's pockets. "A brace of barkers," handing a pair +of pistols to Turpin, "a haddock, stuffed with nothing, I'm +thinking; one quid, two coach-wheels, half a bull, three hogs, +and a kick; a d—d dicky concern, captain."</p> + +<p>"Three hogs and a kick," muttered Coates; "the knave +says true enough."</p> + +<p>"Is there nothing else?" demanded Dick.</p> + +<p>"Only an old snuffy fogle and a pewter sneezer."</p> + +<p>"No reader?<a name="FNanchor_90_90" id="FNanchor_90_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_90_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a> Try his hoxter."<a name="FNanchor_91_91" id="FNanchor_91_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_91_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a></p> + +<p>"Here's a pit-man,<a name="FNanchor_92_92" id="FNanchor_92_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_92_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a> captain."</p> + +<p>"Give it me. Ah! this will do," cried Dick, examining +the contents of the pocket-book. "This is a glorious windfall +indeed; a bill of exchange for 500<i>l.</i>, payable <i>on demand</i>, eh, +Mr. Coates? Quick! indorse it, sir. Here's pen and ink. +Rascal! if you attempt to tear the bill, I'll blow your brains +out. Steady, sir, sign. Good!" added he, as Coates most +reluctantly indorsed the bill. "Good! good! I'll be off with +this bill to London to-night, before you can stop it. No +courier can beat Bess—ha, ha! Eh! what's this?" continued +Dick, as, unfolding another leaf of the pocket-book, he chanced +upon a letter; "My Lady Rookwood's superscription! Excuse +me, Mr. Coates, I must have a peep at her ladyship's +billet-doux. All's safe with me—man of honor. I must detain +your <i>reader</i> a moment longer."</p> + +<p>"You should take charge of yourself, then," replied Coates, +sulkily. "<i>You</i> appear to be my reader."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Bravo!" cried Turpin. "You may jest now with impunity, +Mr. Coates. You have paid dear enough for your jokes; and +when should a man be allowed to be pleasant, if not at his +own expense?—ha, ha! What's this?" exclaimed he, opening +the letter. "A ring, as I'm awake! and from her ladyship's +own fair finger, I'll be sworn, for it bears her cipher, ineffaceably +impressed as your image upon her heart—eh, Coates? +Egad! you are a lucky dog, after all, to receive <i>such</i> a favor +from <i>such</i> a lady—ha, ha! Meantime, I'll take care of it for +you," continued Dick, slipping the ring on his little finger.</p> + +<p>Turpin, we have before remarked, had a turn for mimicry; +and it was with an irresistible feeling of deferential awe creeping +over him that Coates heard the contents of Lady Rookwood's +epistle delivered with an enunciation as peremptory +and imperious as that of her ladyship's self. The letter was +hastily indited, in a clear, firm hand, and partook of its writer's +decision of character. Dick found no difficulty in deciphering +it. Thus ran the missive:</p> + +<div style="margin: 2em;"><p>"Assured of your devotion and secrecy, I commit my own +honor, and that of my son, to your charge. Time will not +permit me to see you, or I would not write. But I place myself +entirely in your hands. You will not dare to betray my +confidence. To the point:—A Major Mowbray has just arrived +here with intelligence that the body of Susan Bradley—you +will know to whom I allude—has been removed from our +family vault by a Romish priest and his assistants. How it +came there, or why it has been removed, I know not; it is not +my present purpose to inquire. Suffice it, that it now lies in a +vault beneath the ruins of Davenham Priory. My son, Sir +Ranulph, who has lent a credulous ear to the artful tales +of the impostor who calls this woman mother, is at present +engaged in arming certain of the household, and of the tenantry, +to seize upon and bring away this body, as resistance is apprehended +from a horde of gipsies who infest the ruins. Now,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span> +mark me. <span class="smcap">That body must not be found!</span> Be it your business +to prevent its discovery. Take the fleetest horse you +can procure; spare neither whip nor spur. Haste to the +priory; procure by any means, and at any expense, the assistance +of the gipsies. Find out the body; conceal it, destroy +it—do what you will, so my son find it not. Fear not his resentment; +I will bear you harmless of the consequences with +him. You will act upon my responsibility. I pledge my +honor for your safety. Use all despatch, and calculate upon +due requital from</p> + +<p class="rgt"><span style="margin-right: 2em;">"<span class="smcap">Maud Rookwood.</span></span></p> +<p>"Haste, and God speed you!"</p></div> + + +<p>"God speed you!" echoed Dick, in his own voice, contemptuously. +"The devil drive you! would have been a +fitter postscript. And it was upon this precious errand you +came, Mr. Coates?"</p> + +<p>"Precisely," replied the attorney; "but I find the premises +preoccupied. Fast as I have ridden, you are here before me."</p> + +<p>"And what do you now propose to do?" asked Turpin.</p> + +<p>"Bargain with you for the body," replied Coates, in an insinuating +tone.</p> + +<p>"With <i>me</i>!" said Dick; "do you take me for a resurrection +cove; for a dealer in dead stock, eh! sirrah?"</p> + +<p>"I take you for one sufficiently <i>alive</i>, in a general way, to +his own interests," returned Coates. "These gentlemen may +not, perhaps, be quite so scrupulous, when they hear my +proposals."</p> + +<p>"Be silent, sir," interrupted Turpin. "Hist! I hear the +tramp of horses' hoofs without. Hark! that shout."</p> + +<p>"Make your own terms before they come," said Coates. +"Leave all to me. I'll put 'em on a wrong scent."</p> + +<p>"To the devil with your terms," cried Turpin; "the signal!" +And he pulled the trigger of one of Coates's pistols, +the shot of which rang in the ears of the astounded attorney<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> +as it whizzed past him. "Drag him into the mouth of the +vault," thundered Turpin: "he will be a capital cover in case +of attack. Look to your sticks, and be on the alert;—away!"</p> + +<p>Vainly did the unfortunate attorney kick and struggle, swear +and scream; his hat was pushed over his eyes; his bob-wig +thrust into his mouth; and his legs tripped from under him. +Thus blind, dumb, and half-suffocated, he was hurried into the +entrance of the cell.</p> + +<p>Dick, meanwhile, dashed to the arched outlet of the ruin. +He there drew in the rein, and Black Bess stood motionless as +a statue.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV3" id="CHAPTER_XIV3"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>DICK TURPIN</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Many a fine fellow with a genius extensive enough to have effected +universal reformation has been doomed to perish by the halter. But +does not such a man's renown extend through centuries and tens of +centuries, while many a prince would be overlooked in history were it +not the historian's interest to increase the number of his pages? Nay, +when the traveller sees a gibbet, does he not exclaim, "That fellow +was no fool!" and lament the hardship of the times?—<span class="smcap">Schiller</span>: <i>The +Robbers</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>Turpin's quick eye ranged over the spreading sward in front +of the ancient priory, and his brow became contracted. The +feeling, however, was transient. The next instant saw him +the same easy, reckless being he had been before. There +was a little more paleness in his cheek than usual; but his +look was keener, and his knees involuntarily clasped the saddle +more firmly. No other symptom of anxiety was perceptible. +It would be no impeachment to Dick's valor were it necessary +to admit that a slight tremor crossed him as he scanned the +formidable array of his opponents. The admission is needless. +Dick himself would have been the last man to own it; nor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> +shall we do the memory of our undaunted highwayman any +such injustice. Turpin was intrepid to a fault. He was rash; +apt to run into risks for the mere pleasure of getting out of +them: danger was his delight, and the degree of excitement +was always in proportion to the peril incurred. After the first +glance, he became, to use his own expressive phrase, "as cool +as a cucumber;" and continued, as long as they permitted +him, like a skilful commander, calmly to calculate the numerical +strength of his adversaries, and to arrange his own plan of +resistance.</p> + +<p>This troop of horsemen, for such it was, might probably +amount in the aggregate to twenty men, and presented an appearance +like that of a strong muster at a rustic fox-chase, due +allowance being made for the various weapons of offence; to-wit: +naked sabers, firelocks, and a world of huge horse-pistols, +which the present <i>field</i> carried along with them. This resemblance +was heightened by the presence of an old huntsman +and a gamekeeper or two, in scarlet and green jackets, and a few +yelping hounds that had followed after them. The majority of +the crew consisted of sturdy yeomen; some of whom, mounted +upon wild, unbroken colts, had pretty lives of it to maintain their +seats, and curvetted about in "most admired disorder;" others +were seated upon more docile, but quite as provoking specimens +of the cart-horse breed, whose sluggish sides, reckless +alike of hobnailed heel or ash sapling, refused to obey their +riders' intimations to move; while others again, brought stiff, +wrong-headed ponies to the charge—obstinate, impracticable +little brutes, who seemed to prefer revolving on their own axis, +and describing absurd rotatory motions, to proceeding in the +direct and proper course pointed out to them. Dick could +scarcely forbear laughing at these ridiculous manœuvres; but +his attention was chiefly attracted towards three individuals, who +were evidently the leaders of this warlike expedition. In the +thin, tall figure of the first of these he recognized Ranulph +Rookwood. With the features and person of the second of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> +the group he was not entirely unacquainted, and fancied—nor +incorrectly fancied—that his military bearing, or, as he would +have expressed it, "the soldier-like cut of his jib," could belong +to no other than Major Mowbray, whom he had once +eased of a purse on Finchley Common. In the round, rosy +countenance and robustious person of the last of the trio he +discovered his ancient ally, Titus Tyrconnel.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Titus, my jewel, are you there?" exclaimed Dick, +as he distinguished the Irishman. "Come, I have <i>one</i> friend +among them whom I may welcome. So, they see me now. +Off they come, pell-mell. Back, Bess, back!—slowly, wench, +slowly—there—stand!" And Bess again remained motionless.</p> + +<p>The report of Turpin's pistol reached the ears of the troop; +and as all were upon the alert, he had scarcely presented himself +at the gateway, when a loud shout was raised, and the +whole cavalcade galloped towards him, creating, as may be +imagined, the wildest disorder; each horseman yelling, as he +neared the arch, and got involved in the press occasioned by +the unexpected concentration of forces at that point, while +oaths and blows, kicks and cuffs, were reciprocated with such +hearty good-will, that, had Turpin ever read Ariosto or Cervantes, +or heard of the discord of King Agramante's camp, +this <i>mêlée</i> must have struck him as its realization. As it was, +entertaining little apprehension of the result, he shouted +encouragement to them. Scarcely, however, had the foremost +horseman disentangled himself from the crowd, and, struggling +to the door, was in the act of levelling his pistol at Turpin's +head, when a well-directed ball pierced the brain of his charger, +and horse and man rolled to the ground. Vowing vengeance, +a second succeeded, and was in like manner compelled to bite +the dust.</p> + +<p>"That will let Old Peter know that Ranulph Rookwood is at +hand," exclaimed Dick. "I shan't throw away another shot."</p> + +<p>The scene at the archway was now one of complete confusion. +Terrified by the shots, some of the boors would have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span> +drawn back, while others, in mid career, advanced, and propelled +them forwards. It was like the meeting of two tides. +Here and there, regardless of the bit, and scared by the +firing, a wild colt broke all bounds, and, hurling his rider in +the air, darted off into the green; or, in another case, rushed +forward, and encountering the prostrate cattle cumbering the +entrance to the priory hall, stumbled, and precipitated his +master neck-over-heels at the very feet of his enemy. During +all this tumult, a few shots were fired at the highwayman, which, +without doing him a jot of mischief, tended materially to increase +their own confusion.</p> + +<p>The voice of Turpin was now heard above the din and +turmoil to sound a parley; and as he appeared disposed +to offer no opposition, some of his antagonists ventured +to raise themselves from the ground, and to approach +him.</p> + +<p>"I demand to be led to Sir Ranulph Rookwood," said +Turpin.</p> + +<p>"He is here," said Ranulph, riding up. "Villain, you are +my prisoner."</p> + +<p>"As you list, Sir Ranulph," returned Dick, coolly; "but let +me have a word in private with you ere you do aught you may +repent hereafter."</p> + +<p>"No words, sir—deliver up your arms, or——"</p> + +<p>"My pistols are at your service," replied Dick. "I have +just discharged them."</p> + +<p>"You may have others. We must search you."</p> + +<p>"Hold!" cried Dick; "if you will not listen to me, read +that paper." And he handed Ranulph his mother's letter to +Mr. Coates. It was without the superscription, which he had +thrown aside.</p> + +<p>"My mother's hand!" exclaimed Ranulph, reddening with +anger, as he hastily perused its contents. "And she sent this +to you? You lie, villain—'tis a forgery."</p> + +<p>"Let this speak for me," returned Dick, holding out the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> +finger upon which Lady Rookwood's ring was placed. "Know +you that cipher?"</p> + +<p>"You have stolen it," retorted Ranulph. "My mother," +added he, in a deep, stern whisper, articulated only for Turpin's +hearing, "would never have entrusted her honor to a highwayman's +keeping."</p> + +<p>"She has entrusted more—her life," replied Dick, in a +careless tone. "She would have bribed me to do murder."</p> + +<p>"Murder!" echoed Ranulph, aghast.</p> + +<p>"Ay, to murder your brother," returned Dick; "but let that +pass. You have read that note. I have acted solely upon +your mother's responsibility. Lady Rookwood's <i>honor</i> is +pledged for my safety. Of course her son will set me free."</p> + +<p>"Never!"</p> + +<p>"Well, as you please. Your mother is in my power. Betray +me, and you betray her."</p> + +<p>"No more!" returned Ranulph, sternly. "Go your ways. +You are free."</p> + +<p>"Pledge me your word of honor I am safe." Ranulph +had scarcely given his pledge, when Major Mowbray rode +furiously up. A deep flush of anger burnt upon his cheeks; +his sword was drawn in his hand. He glanced at Turpin, as if +he would have felled him from his saddle.</p> + +<p>"This is the ruffian," cried the major, fiercely, "by whom I +was attacked some months ago, and for whose apprehension +the reward of three hundred pounds is offered by his majesty's +proclamation, with a free pardon to his accomplices. This is +Richard Turpin. He has just added another crime to his +many offences. He has robbed my mother and sister. The +postboy knew him the moment he came up. Where are they, +villain? Whither are they gone?—answer!"</p> + +<p>"I know not," replied Turpin, calmly. "Did not the lad +tell you they were rescued?"</p> + +<p>"Rescued!—by whom?" asked Ranulph, with great emotion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span></p> + +<p>"By one who calls himself Sir Luke Rookwood," answered +Turpin, with a meaning smile.</p> + +<p>"By him!" ejaculated Ranulph. "Where are they now?"</p> + +<p>"I have already answered that question," said Dick. "I +repeat, I know not."</p> + +<p>"You are my prisoner," cried the major, seizing Turpin's +bridle.</p> + +<p>"I have Sir Ranulph's word for my safety," rejoined Turpin. +"Let go my rein."</p> + +<p>"How is this?" asked Major Mowbray, incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Ask me not. Release him," replied Ranulph.</p> + +<p>"Ranulph," said the major, "you ask an impossibility. My +honor—my duty—is implicated in this man's capture."</p> + +<p>"The honor of all of us is involved in his deliverance," returned +Ranulph, in a whisper. "Let him go. I will explain all +hereafter. Let us search for them—for Eleanor. Surely, after +this, you will help us to find them," added he, addressing Turpin.</p> + +<p>"I wish, with all my soul, I could do so," replied the highwayman.</p> + +<p>"I see'd the ladies cross the brook, and enter these old +ruins," interposed the postboy, who had now joined the party. +"I see'd 'em from where I stood on the hill-side; and as I +kept a pretty sharp look-out, and have a tolerably bright eye +of my own, I don't think as how they ever comed out again."</p> + +<p>"Some one is hidden within yon fissure in the wall," exclaimed +Ranulph; "I see a figure move."</p> + +<p>And he flung himself from his horse, rushing towards the +mouth of the cell. Imitating his example, Major Mowbray +followed his friend, sword in hand.</p> + +<p>"The game begins now in right earnest," said Dick to himself; +"the old fox will be soon unearthed. I must look to my +snappers." And he thrust his hand quietly into his pocket in +search of a pistol.</p> + +<p>Just as Ranulph and the major reached the recess they +were startled by the sudden apparition of the ill-fated attorney.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mr. Coates!" exclaimed Ranulph, in surprise. "What do +you here, sir?"</p> + +<p>"I—I—that is—Sir Ranulph—you must excuse me, sir—particular +business—can't say," returned the trembling attorney; +for at this instant his eye caught that of Turpin, and the +ominous reflexion of a polished-steel barrel, held carelessly +towards him. He was aware, also, that on the other hand +he was, in like manner, the mark of Rust and Wilder; those +polite gentlemen having threatened him with a brace of slugs +in his brain if he dared to betray their hiding-place. "It is +necessary that I should be <i>guarded</i> in my answers," murmured +he.</p> + +<p>"Is there any one within that place besides yourself?" said +the major, making a movement thither.</p> + +<p>"No, sir, nobody at all," answered Coates, hastily, fancying +at the same time that he heard the click of the pistol that +was to be his death-warrant.</p> + +<p>"How came you here, sir?" demanded Ranulph.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean in this identical spot?" replied Coates, +evasively.</p> + +<p>"You can have no difficulty in answering that question," +said the major, sternly.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, sir. I find considerable difficulty in answering +any question, situated as I am."</p> + +<p>"Have you seen Miss Mowbray?" asked Ranulph, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Or my mother?" said the major, in the same breath.</p> + +<p>"Neither," replied Coates, rather relieved by these questions.</p> + +<p>"I suspect you are deceiving us, sir," said the major. "Your +manner is confused. I am convinced you know more of this +matter than you choose to explain; and if you do not satisfy +me at once, fully and explicitly, I vow to Heaven——" and +the major's sword described a glittering circle round his head.</p> + +<p>"Are you privy to their concealment?" asked Ranulph. +"Have you seen aught of them, or of Luke Bradley?"</p> + +<p>"Speak, or this moment is your last," said the major.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If it <i>is</i> my last, I <i>cannot</i> speak," returned Coates. "I can +make neither head nor tail of your questions, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"And you positively assure me you have not seen Mrs. +Mowbray and her daughter?" said Ranulph.</p> + +<p>Turpin here winked at Coates. The attorney understood +him.</p> + +<p>"I don't positively assert that," faltered he.</p> + +<p>"How!—you <i>have</i> seen them?" shouted Ranulph.</p> + +<p>"Where are they?—in safety—speak!" added the major.</p> + +<p>Another expressive gesture from the highwayman communicated +to the attorney the nature of his reply.</p> + +<p>"Without, sir—without—yonder," he replied. "I will show +you myself. Follow, gentlemen, follow." And away scampered +Coates, without once venturing to look behind him.</p> + +<p>In an instant the ruined hall was deserted, and Turpin +alone left behind. In the excitement of the moment his +presence had been forgotten. In an instant afterwards the +<i>arena</i> was again occupied by a company equally numerous. +Rust and Wilder issued from their hiding-places, followed by +a throng of the gipsy crew.</p> + +<p>"Where is Sir Luke Rookwood?" asked Turpin.</p> + +<p>"He remains below," was the answer returned.</p> + +<p>"And Peter Bradley?"</p> + +<p>"Stays there likewise."</p> + +<p>"No matter. Now make ready, pals. Give 'em one +shout—Hurrah!"</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" replied the crowd, at the top of their voices.</p> + +<p>Ranulph Rookwood and his companions heard this shout. +Mr. Coates had already explained the stratagem practised +upon them by the wily highwayman, as well as the perilous +situation in which he himself had been placed; and they were +in the act of returning to make good his capture, when the +loud shouts of the crew arrested them. From the clamor, it +was evident that considerable reinforcement must have arrived +from some unlooked-for quarter; and, although burning to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> +avenged upon the audacious highwayman, the major felt it +would be a task of difficulty, and that extreme caution could +alone ensure success. With difficulty restraining the impatience +of Ranulph, who could scarcely brook these few minutes +of needful delay, Major Mowbray gave particular instructions +to each of the men in detail, and caused several of them to +dismount. By this arrangement Mr. Coates found himself +accommodated with a steed and a pair of pistols, with which +latter he vowed to wreak his vengeance upon some of his +recent tormentors. After a short space of time occupied in +this manner, the troop slowly advanced towards the postern, +in much better order than upon the previous occasion; but +the stoutest of them quailed as they caught sight of the numerous +gipsy-gang drawn out in battle array within the abbey +walls. Each party scanned the other's movements in silence +and wonder, anxiously awaiting, yet in a measure dreading, +their leader's signal to begin. That signal was not long +delayed. A shot from the ranks of Rookwood did instant and +bitter execution. Rob Rust was stretched lifeless upon the +ground. Nothing more was needed. The action now became +general. Fire arms were discharged on both sides, without +much damage to either party. But a rush being made by a +detachment of horse, headed by Major Mowbray, the conflict +soon became more serious. The gipsies, after the first fire, +threw aside their pistols, and fought with long knives, with +which they inflicted desperate gashes, both on men and +horses. Major Mowbray was slightly wounded in the thigh, +and his steed receiving the blow intended for himself, stumbled +and threw his rider. Luckily for the major, Ranulph Rookwood +was at hand, and with the butt-end of a heavy-handled +pistol felled the ruffian to the earth, just as he was upon the +point of repeating the thrust.</p> + +<p>Turpin, meanwhile, had taken comparatively a small share +in the conflict. He seemed to content himself with acting +upon the defensive, and except in the case of Titus Tyrconnel,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> +whom, espying amidst the crowd, he had considerably alarmed +by sending a bullet through his wig, he did not fire a single +shot. He also succeeded in unhorsing Coates, by hurling, +with great dexterity, the empty pistol at his head. Though +apparently unconcerned in the skirmish, he did not flinch +from it, but kept his ground unyieldingly. "A charmed life" +he seemed to bear; for amid the shower of bullets, many of +which were especially aimed at himself, he came off unhurt.</p> + +<p>"He that's born to be hanged will never be drowned, that's +certain," said Titus. "It's no use trying to bring him down. +But, by Jasus! he's spoiled my best hat and wig, anyhow. +There's a hole in my beaver as big as a crown piece."</p> + +<p>"Your own crown's safe, and that's some satisfaction," said +Coates; "whereas mine has a bump on it as large as a swan's +egg. Ah! if we could only get behind him."</p> + +<p>The strife continued to rage without intermission; and +though there were now several ghastly evidences of its fury, in +the shape of wounded men and slaughtered or disabled horses, +whose gaping wounds flooded the turf with gore, it was still +difficult to see upon which side victory would eventually +declare herself. The gipsies, though by far the greater sufferers +of the two, firmly maintained their ground. Drenched in the +blood of the horses they had wounded, and brandishing their +long knives, they presented a formidable and terrific appearance, +the effect of which was not at all diminished by their +wild yells and savage gesticulations. On the other hand, +headed by Major Mowbray and Ranulph, the troop of yeomen +pressed on undauntedly; and where the sturdy farmers could +get a firm gripe of their lithe antagonists, or deliver a blow +with their ox-like fists, they seldom failed to make good the +advantages which superior weight and strength gave them. It +will thus be seen that as yet they were pretty well matched. +Numbers were in favor of the gipsies, but courage was equally +distributed, and, perhaps, what is emphatically called "bottom," +was in favor of the rustics. Be this as it may, from what had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span> +already occurred, there was every prospect of a very serious +termination to the fray.</p> + +<p>From time to time Turpin glanced to the entrance of +the cell, in the expectation of seeing Sir Luke Rookwood +make his appearance; and, as he was constantly +disappointed in his expectation, he could not conceal his +chagrin. At length he resolved to despatch a messenger to +him, and one of the crew accordingly departed upon this +errand. He returned presently with a look of blank dismay.</p> + +<p>In our hasty narrative of the fight we have not paused to +particularize, neither have we enumerated, the list of the combatants. +Amongst them, however, were Jerry Juniper, the +knight of Malta, and Zoroaster. Excalibur, as may be conceived, +had not been idle; but that trenchant blade had been +shivered by Ranulph Rookwood in the early stage of the business, +and the knight left weaponless. Zoroaster, who was not +merely a worshipper of fire, but a thorough milling-cove, had +engaged to some purpose in a pugilistic encounter with the +rustics; and, having fought several rounds, now "bore his +blushing honors thick upon him." Jerry, like Turpin, had +remained tolerably quiescent. "The proper moment," he +said, "had not arrived." A fatality seemed to attend Turpin's +immediate companions. Rust was the first who fell; Wilder +also was now among the slain. Things were precisely in this +condition when the messenger returned. A marked change +was instantly perceptible in Turpin's manner. He no longer +looked on with indifference. He seemed angry and distrustful. +He gnawed his lip, ever a sign with him of vexation. Addressing +a few words to those about him, he then spoke more +loudly to the rest of the crew. Being in the jargon of the +tawny tribe, his words were not intelligible to the opposite +party; but their import was soon made known by the almost +instant and total relinquishment of the field by the gipsies. +They took to their heels at once, to a man, leaving only a few +desperately wounded behind them; and, flying along the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span> +intricate ruins of the priory, baffled all pursuit, wherever it +was attempted. Jerry Juniper was the last in the retreat; but, +upon receiving a hint from Dick, he vaulted like a roe over +the heads of his adversaries, and made good his escape. Turpin +alone remained. He stood like a lion at bay, quietly +regarding the huntsmen hurtling around him. Ranulph Rookwood +rode up and bade him surrender.</p> + +<p>"Detain me not," cried he, in a voice of thunder. "If you +would save her who is dear to you, descend into that vault. Off, +I say."</p> + +<p>And Turpin shook away, with ease, the grasp that Ranulph +had laid upon him.</p> + +<p>"Villain! you do not escape me this time," said Major +Mowbray, interposing himself between Turpin and the outlet.</p> + +<p>"Major Mowbray, I would not have your blood upon my +head," said Dick. "Let me pass," and he levelled a pistol.</p> + +<p>"Fire, if you dare!" said the major, raising his sword. +"You pass not. I will die rather than allow you to escape. +Barricade the door. Strike him down if he attempts to pass. +Richard Turpin, I arrest you in the king's name. You hear, +my lads, in his majesty's name. I command you to assist me +in this highwayman's capture. Two hundred pounds for his +head."</p> + +<p>"Two hundred devils!" exclaimed Dick, with a laugh of +disdain. "Go, seek your mother and sister within yon +vault, Major Mowbray; you will find employment enough +there."</p> + +<p>Saying which, he suddenly forced Bess to back a few yards; +then, striking his heels sharply into her sides, ere his purpose +could be divined by the spectators, charged, and cleared the +lower part of the mouldering priory walls. This feat was +apparently accomplished with no great effort by his admirable +and unequalled mare.</p> + +<p>"By the powers!" cried Titus, "and he's given us the slip +after all. And just when we thought to make sure of him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> +too. Why, Mr. Coates, that wall must be higher than a five-barred +gate, or any stone wall in my own country. It's just +the most extraordinary lepp I ever set eyes on!"</p> + +<p>"The devil's in the fellow, certainly, or in his mare," returned +Coates; "but if he escapes me, I'll forgive him. I +know whither he's bound. He's off to London with my bill of +exchange. I'll be up with him. I'll track him like a bloodhound, +slowly and surely, as my father, the thief-taker, used +to follow up a scent. Recollect the hare and the tortoise. +The race is not always to the swift. What say you? 'Tis a +match for five hundred pounds; nay, for five thousand: for +there is a certain marriage certificate in the way—a glorious +golden venture! You shall go halves, if we win. We'll have +him, dead or alive. What say you for London, Mr. Tyrconnel? +Shall we start at once?"</p> + +<p>"With all my sowl," replied Titus. "I'm with you." And +away this <i>par nobile</i> scoured.</p> + +<p>Ranulph, meantime, plunged into the vault. The floor +was slippery, and he had nigh stumbled. Loud and deep +lamentations, and a wailing sound, like that of a lament for +the dead, resounded in his ears. A light at the further +extremity of the vault attracted his attention. He was +filled with terrible forebodings; but the worst reality was not +so terrible as suspense. He rushed towards the light. He +passed the massive pillars, and there, by the ruddy torch +flame, discovered two female figures. One was an old woman, +fantastically attired, wringing her hands, and moaning, or gibbering +wild strains in broken, discordant, yet pathetic tones. +The other was Mrs. Mowbray. Both were images of despair. +Before them lay some motionless object. He noticed not +that old woman; he scarcely saw Mrs. Mowbray; he beheld +only that object of horror. It was the lifeless body of a +female. The light fell imperfectly upon the face; he could +not discern the features, but the veil in which it was swathed: +that veil was Eleanor's! He asked no more.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span></p> + +<p>With a wild cry he rushed forward. "Eleanor, my +beloved!" shrieked he.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mowbray started at his voice, but appeared stunned +and helpless.</p> + +<p>"She is dead," said Ranulph, stooping towards the body. +"Dead—dead!"</p> + +<p>"Ay," echoed the old woman, in accents of equal anguish—"dead—dead!"</p> + +<p>"But this is <i>not</i> Eleanor," exclaimed he, as he viewed +the features more closely. "This face, though beautiful, is +not hers. This dishevelled hair is black. The long lashes +that shade her cheek are of the same hue. She is scarce +dead. The hand I clasp is yet warm—the fingers are +pliant."</p> + +<p>"Yet she is dead," said the old woman, in a broken voice, +"she is slain."</p> + +<p>"Who hath slain her?" asked Ranulph.</p> + +<p>"I—I—her mother, slew her."</p> + +<p>"You!" exclaimed Ranulph, horror-stricken. "And where +is Eleanor?" asked he. "Was she not here?"</p> + +<p>"Better she were here now, even though she were as that +poor maid," groaned Mrs. Mowbray, "than where she is."</p> + +<p>"Where is she, then?" asked Ranulph, with frantic eagerness.</p> + +<p>"Fled. Whither I know not."</p> + +<p>"With whom?"</p> + +<p>"With Sir Luke Rookwood—with Alan Rookwood. They +have borne her hence. Ranulph, you are too late."</p> + +<p>"Gone!" cried Ranulph, fiercely springing to his feet. +"How escaped they? There appears to be but one entrance +to this vault. I will search each nook and cranny."</p> + +<p>"'Tis vain," replied Mrs. Mowbray. "There is another +outlet through yon cell. By that passage they escaped."</p> + +<p>"Too true, too true," shouted Ranulph, who flew to examine +the cell. "And wherefore followed you not?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The stone rolled to its mouth, and resisted my efforts. I +could not follow."</p> + +<p>"Torture and death! She is lost to me for ever!" cried +Ranulph, bitterly.</p> + +<p>"No!" exclaimed Barbara, clutching his arm. "Place your +trust in me, and I will find her for you."</p> + +<p>"You!" ejaculated Ranulph.</p> + +<p>"Even I," replied Barbara. "Your wrongs shall be righted—my +Sybil be avenged."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BOOK_IV" id="BOOK_IV"></a>BOOK IV</h2> + + +<h3>THE RIDE TO YORK</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 24em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then one halloo, boys! one loud cheering halloo!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the swiftest of coursers, the gallant, the true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the sportsman unborn shall the memory bless<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the horse of the highwayman, bonny Black Bess.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Richard Turpin.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I4" id="CHAPTER_I4"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>THE RENDEZVOUS AT KILBURN</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 26em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Hind.</i> Drink deep, my brave boys, of the bastinado;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Of stramazons, tinctures, and slié passatas;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Of the carricado, and rare embrocado;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Of blades, and rapier-hilts of surest guard;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Of the Vincentio and Burgundian ward.<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Have we not bravely tossed this bombast foil-button?<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Win gold and wear gold, boys, 'tis we that merit it.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Prince of Prigs' Revels.</i></p></div> +<p class="center" style="margin: 0 auto 1.5em;"><i>An excellent Comedy, replete with various conceits and Tarltonian mirth.</i></p> + +<p>The present straggling suburb at the north-west of the metropolis, +known as Kilburn, had scarcely been called into existence +a century ago, and an ancient hostel, with a few detached +farmhouses, were the sole habitations to be found in the present +populous vicinage. The place of refreshment for the +ruralizing cockney of 1737 was a substantial-looking tenement +of the good old stamp, with great bay windows, and a balcony +in front, bearing as its ensign the jovial visage of the lusty +knight, Jack Falstaff. Shaded by a spreading elm, a circular +bench embraced the aged trunk of the tree, sufficiently tempting, +no doubt, to incline the wanderer on those dusty ways to +"rest and be thankful," and to cry <i>encore</i> to a frothing tankard +of the best ale to be obtained within the chimes of Bow bells.</p> + +<p>Upon a table, green as the privet and holly that formed the +walls of the bower in which it was placed, stood a great china +bowl, one of those leviathan memorials of bygone wassailry +which we may sometimes espy—reversed in token of its desuetude—perched +on the top of an old japanned closet, but seldom, +if ever, encountered in its proper position at the genial<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span> +board. All the appliances of festivity were at hand. Pipes and +rummers strewed the board. Perfume, subtle, yet mellow, as +of pine and lime, exhaled from out the bowl, and, mingling with +the scent of a neighboring bed of mignonette and the subdued +odor of the Indian weed, formed altogether as delectable +an atmosphere of sweets as one could wish to inhale on a melting +August afternoon. So, at least, thought the inmates of the +arbor; nor did they by any means confine themselves to the +gratification of a single sense. The ambrosial contents of the +china bowl proved as delicious to the taste as its bouquet was +grateful to the smell; while the eyesight was soothed by reposing +on the smooth sward of a bowling-green spread out immediately +before it, or in dwelling upon gently undulating meads, +terminating, at about a mile's distance, in the woody, spire-crowned +heights of Hampstead.</p> + +<p>At the left of the table was seated, or rather lounged, a +slender, elegant-looking young man, with dark, languid eyes, +sallow complexion, and features wearing that peculiarly pensive +expression often communicated by dissipation; an expression +which, we regret to say, is sometimes found more pleasing +than it ought to be in the eyes of the gentle sex. Habited +in a light summer riding-dress, fashioned according to the +taste of the time, of plain and unpretending material, and rather +under than overdressed, he had, perhaps, on that very account, +perfectly the air of a gentleman. There was, altogether, an +absence of pretension about him, which, combined with great +apparent self-possession, contrasted very forcibly with the +vulgar assurance of his showy companions. The figure of the +youth was slight, even to fragility, giving little outward manifestation +of the vigor of frame he in reality possessed. This spark +was a no less distinguished personage than Tom King, a noted +high-tobygloak of his time, who obtained, from his appearance +and address, the <i>sobriquet</i> of the "Gentleman Highwayman."</p> + +<p>Tom was indeed a pleasant fellow in his day. His career +was brief, but brilliant: your meteors are ever momentary.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span> +He was a younger son of a good family; had good blood in +his veins, though not a groat in his pockets. According to +the old song—</p> + +<p class="hd4">When he arrived at man's estate,<br /> +It was <i>all the estate</i> he had;</p> + +<p>and all the estate he was ever likely to have. Nevertheless, if +he had no income, he contrived, as he said, to live as if he had +the mines of Peru at his control—a miracle not solely confined +to himself. For a moneyless man, he had rather expensive +habits. He kept his three nags; and, if fame does not belie +him, a like number of mistresses; nay, if we are to place any +faith in certain scandalous chronicles to which we have had +access, he was for some time the favored lover of a celebrated +actress, who, for the time, supplied him with the means of +keeping up his showy establishment. But things could not +long hold thus. Tom was a model of infidelity, and that was +the only failing his mistress could not overlook. She dismissed +him at a moment's notice. Unluckily, too, he had other propensities +which contributed to involve him. He had a taste +for the turf—a taste for play—was well known in the hundreds +of Drury, and cut no mean figure at Howell's, and the faro +tables there-anent. He was the glory of the Smyrna, D'Osyndar's, +and other chocolate houses of the day; and it was at this +time he fell into the hands of certain dexterous sharpers, by +whom he was at first plucked and subsequently patronized. +Under their tuition he improved wonderfully. He turned his +wit and talent to some account. He began to open his eyes. +His nine days' blindness was over. The dog saw. But, in +spite of his quickness, he was at length discovered, and ejected +from Howell's in a manner that left him no alternative. He +must either have called out his adversary, or have gone out himself. +He preferred the latter, and took to the road; and in +his new line he was eminently successful. Fortunately, he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> +no scruples to get over. Tom had what Sir Walter Scott +happily denominates "an indistinct notion of <i>meum</i> and +<i>tuum</i>," and became confirmed in the opinion that everything +he could lay hands upon constituted lawful spoil. And then, +even those he robbed, admitted that he was the most gentlemanlike +highwayman they had ever the fortune to meet with, +and trusted they might always be so lucky. So popular did +he become upon the road, that it was accounted a distinction +to be stopped by him; he made a point of robbing none but +gentlemen, and—Tom's shade would quarrel with us were we +to omit them—ladies. His acquaintance with Turpin was +singular, and originated in a rencontre. Struck with his appearance, +Dick presented a pistol, and bade King deliver. +The latter burst into a laugh, and an explanation immediately +ensued. Thenceforward they became sworn brothers—the +Pylades and Orestes of the road; and though seldom seen +together in public, had many a merry moonlight ride in +company.</p> + +<p>Tom still maintained three mistresses, his valet, his groom—tiger, +we should have called him,—"and many a change of +clothes besides," says his biographer, "with which he appeared +more like a lord than a highwayman." And what more, we +should like to know, would a lord wish to have? Few younger +sons, we believe, can boast so much; and it is chiefly on their +account, with some remote view to the benefit of the unemployed +youth of all professions, that we have enlarged so much +upon Tom King's history. The road, we must beg to repeat, +is still open; the chances are greater than they ever were; we +fully believe it is <i>their</i> only road to preferment, and we are +sadly in want of highwaymen!</p> + +<p>Fancy Tom lounging at D'Osyndar's, carelessly tapping his +boots on the steps; there he stands! Is he not a devilish +good-looking, gentlemanlike sort of fellow? You could never +have taken him for a highwayman but for our information. A +waiter appears—supper is ordered at twelve—a broiled chicken<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span> +and a bottle of Burgundy—his groom brings his nags to the +door—he mounts. It is his custom to ride out on an evening—he +is less liable to interruption.<a name="FNanchor_93_93" id="FNanchor_93_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_93_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a> At Marylebone Fields—now +the Regent's Park,—his groom leaves him. He has a mistress +in the neighborhood. He is absent for a couple of hours, +and returns gay or dispirited, as his luck may have turned out. +At twelve he is at supper, and has the night before him. How +very easy all this seems. Can it be possible we have no Tom +Kings?</p> + +<p>To return to Tom as he was in the arbor. Judging from his +manner, he appeared to be almost insensible to the presence +of his companions, and to be scarcely a partaker in their revelry. +His back was towards his immediate neighbor; his +glass sparkled untouched at his elbow; and one hand, beautifully +white and small, a mark of his birth and breeding—<i>crede</i> +Byron—rested upon the edge of the table, while his thin, delicate +digits, palpably demonstrative of his faculty of adaptation—<i>crede</i> +James Hardy Vaux—were employed with a silver toothpick. +In other respects, he seemed to be lost in reverie, and +was, in all probability, meditating new exploits.</p> + +<p>Next to King sat our old friend Jerry Juniper; not, however, +the Jerry of the gipsies, but a much more showy-looking +personage. Jerry was no longer a gentleman of "three <i>outs</i>"—the +difficulty would now have been to say what he was +"without." Snakelike he had cast his slough, and rejoiced in +new and brilliant investiture. His were "speaking garments, +speaking pockets too." His linen was of the finest, his hose +of the smartest. Gay rings glittered on his fingers; a crystal +snuff-box underwent graceful manipulation; a handsome gold +repeater was sometimes drawn from its location with a monstrous +bunch of onions—<i>anglicè</i>, seals—depending from its +massive chain. Lace adorned his wrists, and shoes—of which +they had been long unconscious,—with buckles nearly as large +as themselves, confined his feet. A rich-powdered peruke and +silver-hilted sword completed the gear of the transmogrified<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span> +Jerry, or, as he now chose to be designated, Count Albert +Conyers. The fact was, that Jerry, after the <i>fracas</i>, apprehensive +that the country would be too hot for him, had, in company +with Zoroaster, quitted the ranks of the Canting Crew, +and made the best of his way to town. A lucky <i>spice</i> on the +road set them up; and having some acquaintance with Tom +King, the party, on their arrival, sought him out at his customary +haunt, D'Osyndar's, and enlisted under his banners.</p> + +<p>Tom received them with open arms, gave them unlimited +use of his wardrobe, and only required a little trifling assistance +in return. He had a grand scheme <i>in petto</i>, in the execution +of which they could mainly assist him. Jerry was a <i>Greek</i> by +nature, and could <i>land</i> a flat as well as the best of them. +Zoroaster was just the man to <i>lose</i> a fight; or, in the language +of the <i>Fancy</i>, to <i>play a cross</i>. No two <i>legs</i> could serve +Tom's purposes better. He welcomed them with fraternal +affection.</p> + +<p>We will now proceed to reconnoitre Jerry's opposite neighbor, +who was, however, no other than that Upright Man,</p> + +<p class="hd4">The Magus Zoroaster, that great name.</p> + +<p>Changed as was Juniper, the Magus was yet more whimsically +metamorphosed. Some traces of Jerry still remained, but not +a vestige was left of the original Dimber Damber. His tawny +mother had not known her son. This alteration, however, +was not owing to change of dress; it was the result of the +punishment he had received at the "<i>set-to</i>" at the priory. Not +a feature was in its place; his swollen lip trespassed upon the +precincts of his nose; his nose trod hard upon his cheek; +while his cheek again, not to be behind the rest, rose up like +an apple-dumpling under his single eye,—single, we say—for, +alas! there was no speculation in the other. His dexter daylight +was utterly darkened, and, indeed, the orb that remained +was as sanguinary a luminary as ever struggled through a London<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span> +fog at noonday. To borrow a couplet or so from the +laureate of the <i>Fancy</i>:</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 22em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">————One of his peepers was put<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the bankruptcy list, with his shop windows shut,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the other made nearly as tag-rag a show,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All rimmed round with black like the <i>Courier</i> in woe.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>One black patch decorated his rainbow-colored cheek; +another adorned his chin; a grinder having been dislodged, +his pipe took possession of the aperture. His toggery was that +of a member of the prize-ring; what we now call a "belcher" +bound his throat; a spotted <i>fogle</i> bandaged his <i>jobbernowl</i>, +and shaded his right peeper, while a white beaver crowned the +occiput of the Magus. And though, at first sight, there would +appear to be some incongruity in the association of such a +battered character as the Upright Man with his smart companions, +the reader's wonder will rapidly diminish, when he +reflects that any distinguished P. C. man can ever find a ready +passport to the most exclusive society. Viewed in this light, +Zoroaster's familiarity with his <i>swell</i> acquaintance occasioned +no surprise to old Simon Carr, the bottle-nosed landlord of the +Falstaff, who was a man of discernment in his way, and knew +a thing or two. Despite such striking evidences to the contrary, +the Magus was perfectly at his ease, and sacrificing as +usual to the god of flame. His mithra, or pipe, the symbol of +his faith, was zealously placed between his lips, and never did +his Chaldean, Bactrian, Persian, Pamphylian, Proconnesian, or +Babylonian namesake, whichever of the six was the true Zoroaster—<i>vide</i> +Bayle,—respire more fervently at the altar of fire, +than our Magus at the end of his enkindled tube. In his +creed we believe Zoroaster was a dualist, and believed in the +co-existence and mystical relation of the principles of good +and ill; his pipe being his Yezdan, or benign influence; his +empty pouch his Ahreman, or the devil. We shall not pause<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span> +to examine his tenets; we meddle with no man's religious +opinions, and shall leave the Magus to the enjoyment of his +own sentiments, be they what they may.</p> + +<p>One guest alone remains, and him we shall briefly dismiss. +The reader, we imagine, will scarcely need to be told who was the +owner of those keen gray eyes; those exuberant red whiskers; +that airy azure frock. It was</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our brave co-partner of the roads.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Skilful surveyor of highways and hedges;<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>in a word—Dick Turpin!</p> + +<p>Dick had been called upon to act as president of the board, +and an excellent president he made, sedulously devoting himself +to the due administration of the punch-bowl. Not a +rummer was allowed to stand empty for an instant. Toast, +sentiment, and anacreontic song, succeeded each other at +speedy intervals; but there was no speechifying—no politics. +He left church and state to take care of themselves. Whatever +his politics might be, Dick never allowed them to interfere with +his pleasures. His maxim was to make the most of the passing +moment; the <i>dum vivimus vivamus</i> was never out of his +mind; a precautionary measure which we recommend to the +adoption of all gentlemen of the like, or any other precarious +profession.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding all Dick's efforts to promote conviviality, +seconded by the excellence of the beverage itself, conversation, +somehow or other, began to flag; from being general it +became particular. Tom King, who was no punch-bibber, +especially at that time of day, fell into a deep reverie; your +gamesters often do so; while the Magus, who had smoked +himself drowsy, was composing himself to a doze. Turpin +seized this opportunity of addressing a few words on matters +of business to Jerry Juniper, or, as he now chose to be called, +Count Conyers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My dear count," said Dick, in a low and confidential tone, +"you are aware that my errand to town is accomplished. I +have <i>smashed</i> Lawyer Coates's <i>screen</i>, pocketed the <i>dimmock</i>—here +'tis," continued he, parenthetically, slapping his pockets,—"and +done t'other trick in prime twig for Tom King. With +a cool thousand in hand, I might, if I chose, rest awhile on +my oars. But a quiet life don't suit me. I must be moving. +So I shall start to Yorkshire to-night."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said the <i>soi-disant</i> count, in a languid tone—"so +soon?"</p> + +<p>"I have nothing to detain me," replied Dick. "And, to +tell you the truth, I want to see how matters stand with Sir +Luke Rookwood. I should be sorry if he went to the wall for +want of any assistance I can render him."</p> + +<p>"True," returned the count; "one would regret such an +occurrence, certainly. But I fear your assistance may arrive +a little too late. He is pretty well done up, I should imagine, +by this time."</p> + +<p>"That remains to be seen," said Turpin. "His case is a +bad one, to be sure, but I trust not utterly hopeless. With all +his impetuosity and pride, I like the fellow, and will help him, +if I can. It will be a difficult game to set him on his legs, but +I think it may be done. That underground marriage was +sheer madness, and turned out as ill as such a scheme might +have been expected to do. Poor Sybil! if I could pipe an +eye for anything, it should be for her. I can't get her out of +my head. Give me a pinch of snuff. Such thoughts unman +one. As to the priest, that's a totally different affair. If he +strangled his daughter, old Alan did right to take the law into +his own hands, and throttle him in return. I'd have done the +same thing myself; and, being a proscribed Jesuit, returned, +as I understand, without the king's license for so doing, why +Father Checkley's murder—if it must be so called, I can't +abide hard terms—won't lie very heavy at Alan's door. That, +however, has nothing to do with Sir Luke. He was neither<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span> +accessory nor principal. Still he will be in danger, at least +from Lady Rookwood. The whole county of York, I make no +doubt, is up in arms by this time."</p> + +<p>"Then why go thither?" asked the count, somewhat ironically; +"for my part, I've a strange fancy for keeping out of +harm's way as long as possible."</p> + +<p>"Every man to his taste," returned Turpin; "I love to +confront danger. Run away! pshaw! always meet your +foe."</p> + +<p>"True," replied the count, "half-way! but you go the +whole distance. What prudent man would beard the lion in +his den?"</p> + +<p>"I never was a prudent man," rejoined Dick, smiling; "I +have no superfluous caution about me. Come what will, I +shall try to find out this Luke Rookwood, and offer him my +purse, such as it is, and it is now better lined than usual; a +hand free to act as he lists; and a head which, imprudent +though it be, can often think better for others than for its own +master."</p> + +<p>"Vastly fine!" exclaimed the count, with an ill-disguised +sneer. "I hope you don't forget that the marriage certificate +which you hold is perfectly valueless now. The estates, you +are aware——"</p> + +<p>"Are no longer Sir Luke's. I see what you are driving at, +count," returned Dick, coldly. "But he will need it to establish +his claim to the title, and he shall have it. While he was +Sir Luke, with ten thousand a year, I drove a hard bargain, +and would have stood out for the last stiver. Now that he is +one of '<i>us</i>', a mere Knight of the Road, he shall have it and +welcome."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Lady Rookwood, or Mrs. Mowbray, might be +inclined to treat," maliciously insinuated the count; "the title +may be worth something to Ranulph."</p> + +<p>"It is worth more to Luke; and if it were <i>not</i>, he gets it. +Are you satisfied?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Perfectly," replied the count, with affected <i>bonhomie</i>; +"and I will now let you into a secret respecting Miss Mowbray, +from which you may gather something for your guidance +in this matter; and if the word of a woman is at all to be +trusted, though individually I cannot say I have much faith in +it, Sir Luke's planetary hour is not yet completely overcast."</p> + +<p>"That's exactly what I wish to know, my dear fellow," said +Turpin, eagerly. "You have already told me you were witness +to a singular interview between Miss Mowbray and Sir Luke +after my departure from the priory. If I mistook you not, +the whole business will hinge upon that. What occurred? +Let me have every particular. The whole history and +mystery."</p> + +<p>"You shall have it with pleasure," said the count; "and I +hope it may tend to your benefit. After I had quitted the +scene of action at the priory, and at your desire left the Rookwood +party masters of the field, I fled with the rest of the +crew towards the rocks. There we held a council of war for +a short time. Some were for returning to the fight; but this +was negatived entirely, and in the end it was agreed that those +who had wives, daughters, and sisters, should join them as +speedily as possible at their retreat in the Grange. As I happened +to have none of these attractive ties, and had only a +troublesome mistress, who I thought could take care of herself, +I did not care to follow them, but struck deeper into the +wood, and made my way, guided by destiny, I suppose, towards +the cave."</p> + +<p>"The cave!" cried Dick, rubbing his hands; "I delight in +a cave. Tom King and I once had a cave of our own at +Epping, and I'll have another one of these fine days. A cave +is as proper to a high-tobyman as a castle to a baron. Pray +go on."</p> + +<p>"The cave I speak of," continued the count, "was seldom +used, except upon great emergencies, by any of the Stop Hole +Abbey crew. It was a sort of retiring den of our old lioness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span> +Barbara, and, like all belonging to her, respected by her dupes. +However, the cave is a good cave for all that; is well concealed +by brushwood, and comfortably lighted from a crevice in the +rock above; it lies near the brink of the stream, amongst the +woods just above the waterfall, and is somewhat difficult of +approach."</p> + +<p>"I know something of the situation," said Turpin.</p> + +<p>"Well," returned the count, "not to lose time, into this den +I crept, and, expecting to find it vacant, you may imagine my +surprise on discovering that it was already occupied, and that +Sir Luke Rookwood, his granddad, old Alan, Miss Mowbray, +and, worst of all, the very person I wished most to avoid, my +old flame Handassah, constituted the party. Fortunately, they +did not perceive my entrance, and I took especial care not to +introduce myself. Retreat, however, was for the moment impracticable, +and I was compelled to be a listener. I cannot +tell what had passed between the parties before my arrival, but +I heard Miss Mowbray implore Sir Luke to conduct her to +her mother. He seemed half inclined to comply with her +entreaties; but old Alan shook his head. It was then Handassah +put in a word; the minx was ever ready at that. 'Fear +not,' said she, 'that she will wed Sir Ranulph. Deliver her to +her friends, I beseech you, Sir Luke, and woo her honorably. +She will accept you.' Sir Luke stared incredulously, and grim +old Alan smiled. 'She has sworn to be yours,' continued +Handassah; 'sworn it by every hope of heaven, and the oath +has been sealed by blood—by Sybil's blood.'—'Does she +speak the truth?' asked Sir Luke, trembling with agitation. +Miss Mowbray answered not. 'You will not deny it, lady,' +said Handassah. 'I heard that oath proposed. I saw it registered. +You cannot deny it.'—'I do not,' replied Miss Mowbray, +with much anguish of manner; 'if he claim me, I am +his.'—'And he will claim you,' said Alan Rookwood, triumphantly. +'He has your oath, no matter how extorted—you +must fulfil your vow.'—'I am prepared to do so,' said Eleanor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span> +'But if you would not utterly destroy me, let this maid conduct +me to my mother, to my friends.'—'To Ranulph?' asked +Sir Luke, bitterly.—'No, no,' returned Miss Mowbray, in +accents of deepest despair, 'to my mother—I wish not to +behold him again.'—'Be it so,' cried Sir Luke; 'but remember, +in love or hate, you are mine; I shall claim the fulfilment of +your oath. Farewell. Handassah will lead you to your +mother.' Miss Mowbray bowed her head, but returned no +answer, while, followed by old Alan, Sir Luke departed from +the cavern."</p> + +<p>"Whither went they?" demanded Turpin.</p> + +<p>"That I know not," replied Jerry. "I was about to follow, +when I was prevented by the abrupt entrance of another party. +Scarcely, I think, could the two Rookwoods have made good +their retreat, when shouts were heard without, and young +Ranulph and Major Mowbray forced their way, sword in hand, +into the cave. Here was a situation—for <i>me</i>, I mean—to the +young lady, I make no doubt, it was pleasant enough. But +my neck was in jeopardy. However, you know I am not +deficient in strength, and, upon the present occasion, I made +the best use of the agility with which nature has endowed me. +Amidst the joyous confusion—the sobbings, and embracings, +and congratulations that ensued—I contrived, like a wild cat, +to climb the rocky sides of the cave, and concealed myself +behind a jutting fragment of stone. It was well I did so, for +scarcely was I hidden, when in came old Barbara, followed by +Mrs. Mowbray, and a dozen others."</p> + +<p>"Barbara!" ejaculated Dick. "Was she a prisoner?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Jerry; "the old hell-cat is too deep for +that. She had betrayed Sir Luke, and hoped they would +seize him and his granddad. But the birds were flown."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad she was baulked," said Dick. "Was any search +made after them?"</p> + +<p>"Can't say," replied Jerry. "I could only indistinctly +catch the sounds of their voices from my lofty retreat. Before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span> +they left the cavern, I made out that Mrs. Mowbray resolved +to go to Rookwood, and to take her daughter thither—a proceeding +to which the latter demurred."</p> + +<p>"To Rookwood," said Dick, musingly. "Will she keep her +oath, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>"That's more than I can say," said Jerry, sipping his punch. +"'Tis a deceitful sex!"</p> + +<p>"'Tis a deceitful sex, indeed," echoed Dick, tossing off a +tumbler. "For one Sybil we meet with twenty Handassahs, +eh, count?"</p> + +<p>"Twenty!—say rather a hundred," replied Jerry. "'Tis a +vile sex."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II4" id="CHAPTER_II4"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>TOM KING</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Grimm.</i> How gloriously the sun sets to-night.</p> + +<p><i>Moor.</i> When I was a boy, my favorite thought was, that I should +live and die like yonder glorious orb. It was a boyish thought.</p> + +<p><i>Grimm.</i> True, captain.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><i>The Robbers.</i></p></div> + + +<p>"Peace, base calumniators," exclaimed Tom King, aroused +from his toothpick reverie by these aspersions of the best part +of creation. "Peace, I say. None shall dare abuse that dear +devoted sex in the hearing of their champion, without pricking +a lance with him in their behalf. What do you, either of you, +who abuse woman in that wholesale style, know of her? +Nothing—less than nothing; and yet you venture, upon your +paltry experience, to lift up your voices and decry the sex. +Now I <i>do</i> know her; and upon my own experience avouch, +that, as a sex, woman, compared with man, is as an angel +to a devil. As a sex, woman is faithful, loving, self-sacrificing. +<i>We</i> 'tis that make her otherwise; <i>we</i>, selfish, exacting, neglectful +men; we teach her indifference, and then blame her apt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span> +scholarship. We spoil our own hand, and then blame the +cards. No abuse of women in my hearing. Give me a glass +of grog, Dick. 'The sex!—three times three!'—and here's a +song for you into the bargain." Saying which, in a mellow, +plaintive tone, Tom gave the following:</p> + + +<p class="hd1">PLEDGE OF THE HIGHWAYMAN</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 30em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, fill up a bumper to Eve's fairest daughters,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who have lavished their smiles on the brave and the free;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Toast the sweethearts of <span class="smcap">Dudley</span>, <span class="smcap">Hind</span>, <span class="smcap">Wilmot</span>, and <span class="smcap">Waters</span>,<a name="FNanchor_94_94" id="FNanchor_94_94"></a><a href="#Footnote_94_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whate'er their attraction, whate'er their degree.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pledge! pledge in a bumper, each kind-hearted maiden,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose bright eyes were dimmed at the highwayman's fall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who stood by the gallows with sorrow o'erladen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bemoaning the fate of the gallant <span class="smcap">Du-Val</span>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here's to each lovely lass chance of war bringeth near one,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whom, with manner impassioned, we tenderly stop;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to whom, like the lover addressing his dear one,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In terms of entreaty <i>the question</i> we pop.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How oft, in such case, rosy lips have proved sweeter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than the rosiest book, bright eyes saved a bright ring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While that <i>one other</i> kiss has brought off a <i>repeater</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a bead as a <i>favor</i>—the <i>favorite</i> string.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With our hearts ready rifled, each pocket we rifle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the pure flame of chivalry stirring our breasts;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life's risk for our <i>mistress's praise</i> is a trifle;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And each purse as a <i>trophy</i> our <i>homage</i> attests.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then toss off your glasses to all girls of spirit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ne'er with names, or with number, your memories vex;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our toast, boys, embraces each woman of merit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, for fear of omission, we'll drink the <span class="smcapl">WHOLE SEX</span>.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"Well," replied Dick, replenishing King's rummer, while he +laughed heartily at his ditty, "I shan't refuse your toast, +though my heart don't respond to your sentiments. Ah, +Tom! the sex you praise so much will, I fear, prove your +undoing. Do as you please, but curse me if ever I pin my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span> +life to a petticoat. I'd as soon think of neglecting the four +cautions."</p> + +<p>"The four cautions," said King; "what are they?"</p> + +<p>"Did you never hear them?" replied Dick. "Attend, +then, and be edified."</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE FOUR CAUTIONS</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 20em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pay attention to these cautions four,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through life you will need little more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should you dole out your days to threescore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beware of a pistol before!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Before! before!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beware of a pistol before!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when backward his ears are inclined,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his tail with his ham is combined,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caution two you will bear in your mind:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beware of a prancer behind!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Behind! behind!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beware of a prancer behind!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thirdly, when in the park you may ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On your best bit of blood, sir, astride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chatting gay to your old friend's young bride:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beware of a coach at the side!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">At the side! at the side!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beware of a coach at the side!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lastly, whether in purple or gray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canter, ranter, grave, solemn, or gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er he may do or may say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beware of a priest every way!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Every way! every way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beware of a priest every way!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"Well," said Tom King, "all you can sing or say don't +alter my good opinion of the women. Not a secret have I +from the girl of my heart. She could have sold me over and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span> +over again if she had chosen, but my sweet Sue is not the +wench to do that."</p> + +<p>"It is not too late," said Dick. "Your Delilah may yet +hand you over to the Philistines."</p> + +<p>"Then I shall die in a good cause," said King; "but</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 16em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">The Tyburn Tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has no terrors for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let better men swing—I'm at liberty.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>I shall never come to the scragging-post, unless you turn topsman, +Dick Turpin. My nativity has been cast, and the stars +have declared I am to die by the hand of my best friend—and +that's you—eh? Dick?"</p> + +<p>"It sounds like it," replied Turpin; "but I advise you not +to become too intimate with Jack Ketch. He may prove your +best friend, after all."</p> + +<p>"Why, faith, that's true," replied King, laughing; "and if +I must ride backwards up Holborn Hill, I'll do the thing in +style, and honest Jack Ketch shall never want his dues. A +man should always die game. We none of us know how soon +our turn may come; but come when it will, <i>I</i> shall never +flinch from it.</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 22em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As the highwayman's life is the fullest of zest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So the highwayman's death is the briefest and best;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He dies not as other men die, by degrees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But at once! without flinching—and quite at his ease!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>as the song you are so fond of says. When I die it will not be +of consumption. And if the surgeon's knife must come near +me, it will be after death. There's some comfort in that reflection, +at all events."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span></p> + +<p>"True," replied Turpin, "and, with a little alteration, my +song would suit you capitally:</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 24em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is not a king, should you search the world round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So blithe as the king's king, <span class="smcap">Tom King</span>, to be found;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear woman's his empire, each girl is his own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he'd have a long reign if he'd let 'em alone.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha!" laughed Tom. "And now, Dick, to change +the subject. You are off, I understand, to Yorkshire to-night. +'Pon my soul, you are a wonderful fellow—an <i>alibi</i> personified!—here +and everywhere at the same time—no wonder you +are called the flying highwayman. To-day in town—to-morrow +at York—the day after at Chester. The devil only knows where +you will pitch your quarters a week hence. There are rumors +of you in all counties at the same moment. This man +swears you robbed him at Hounslow; that on Salisbury Plain; +while another avers you monopolize Cheshire and Yorkshire, +and that it isn't safe even to <i>hunt</i> without pops in your pocket. +I heard some devilish good stories of you at D'Osyndar's +t'other day; the fellow who told them to me little thought I +was a brother blade."</p> + +<p>"You flatter me," said Dick, smiling complacently; "but +it's no merit of mine. Black Bess alone enables me to do it, and +hers be the credit. Talking of being everywhere at the same +time, you shall hear what she once did for me in Cheshire. +Meantime, a glass to the best mare in England. You won't +refuse that toast, Tom. Ah! if your mistress is only as true to +you as my nag to me, you might set at naught the tightest hempen +cravat that was ever twisted, and defy your best friend to hurt +you. Black Bess! and God bless her! And now for the +song." Saying which, with much emotion, Turpin chanted +the following rhymes:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span></p> + + +<p class="hd1">BLACK BESS</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 26em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let the lover his mistress's beauty rehearse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And laud her attractions in languishing verse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be it mine in rude strains, but with truth to express,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The love that I bear to my bonny Black Bess.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From the west was her dam, from the east was her sire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the one came her swiftness, the other her fire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No peer of the realm better blood can possess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than flows in the veins of my bonny Black Bess.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Look! Look! how that eyeball grows bright as a brand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That neck proudly arches, those nostrils expand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mark! that wide flowing mane! of which each silky tress<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might adorn prouder beauties—though none like Black Bess.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mark! that skin sleek as velvet, and dusky as night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With its jet undisfigured by one lock of white;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That throat branched with veins, prompt to charge or caress<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now is she not beautiful?—bonny Black Bess!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Over highway and by-way, in rough and smooth weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some thousands of miles have we journeyed together;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our couch the same straw, and our meal the same mess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No couple more constant than I and Black Bess.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By moonlight, in darkness, by night, or by day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her headlong career there is nothing can stay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She cares not for distance, she knows not distress:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can you show me a courser to match with Black Bess?<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"Egad! I should think not," exclaimed King; "you are as +sentimental on the subject of your mare, as I am when I think +of my darling Susan. But pardon my interruption. Pray +proceed."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let me first clear my throat," returned Dick; "and now +to resume:"</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 27em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once it happened in Cheshire, near Dunham, I popped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a horseman alone, whom I speedily stopped;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I lightened his pockets you'll readily guess—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick work makes Dick Turpin when mounted on Bess.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now it seems the man knew me; "Dick Turpin," said he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"You shall swing for this job, as you live, d'ye see;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I laughed at his threats and his vows of redress;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was sure of an <i>alibi</i> then with Black Bess.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The road was a hollow, a sunken ravine,<a name="FNanchor_95_95" id="FNanchor_95_95"></a><a href="#Footnote_95_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Overshadowed completely by wood like a screen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I clambered the bank, and I needs must confess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That one touch of the spur grazed the side of Black Bess.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Brake, brook, meadow, and plough'd field, Bess fleetly bestrode,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the crow wings her flight we selected our road;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We arrived at Hough Green in five minutes, or less—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My neck it was saved by the speed of Black Bess.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stepping carelessly forward, I lounge on the green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taking excellent care that by all I am seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some remarks on time's flight to the squires I address,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I say not a word of the flight of Black Bess.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I mention the hour—it was just about four—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Play a rubber at bowls—think the danger is o'er;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When athwart my next game, like a checkmate at chess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes the horsemen in search of the rider of Bess.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What matter details? Off with triumph I came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He swears to the hour, and the squires swear the same;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had robbed him at <i>four</i>!—while at four <i>they</i> profess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was quietly bowling—all thanks to Black Bess!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then one halloo, boys, one loud cheering halloo!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the swiftest of coursers, the gallant, the true!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the sportsman unborn shall the memory bless<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the horse of the highwayman, bonny Black Bess!<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span>Loud acclamations rewarded Dick's performance. Awakened +from his doze, Zoroaster beat time to the melody, the only +thing, Jerry said, he was capable of <i>beating</i> in his present +shattered condition. After some little persuasion, the Magus +was prevailed upon to enliven the company with a strain, +which he trolled forth after a maudlin manner:</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE DOUBLE CROSS</p> +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 20em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though all of us have heard of <i>crost</i> fights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And certain <i>gains</i>, by certain <i>lost</i> fights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I rather fancies that it's news,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How in a mill, <i>both</i> men should <i>lose</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For vere the <i>odds</i> are thus made <i>even</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It plays the dickens with the <i>steven</i>;<a name="FNanchor_96_96" id="FNanchor_96_96"></a><a href="#Footnote_96_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Besides, against all rule they're sinning,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vere <i>neither</i> has <i>no</i> chance of vinning.<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Ri, tol, lol, &c.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Two <i>milling coves</i>, each vide avake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vere backed to fight for heavy stake:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in the mean time, so it vos,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both <i>kids</i> agreed to <i>play a cross</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bold came each <i>buffer</i><a name="FNanchor_97_97" id="FNanchor_97_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_97_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a> to the <i>scratch</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make it look a <i>tightish match</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They <i>peeled</i><a name="FNanchor_98_98" id="FNanchor_98_98"></a><a href="#Footnote_98_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a> in style, and bets vere making,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tvos six to four, but few vere <i>taking</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Ri, tol, lol, &c.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quite cautiously the mill began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For neither knew the other's plan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each <i>cull</i><a name="FNanchor_99_99" id="FNanchor_99_99"></a><a href="#Footnote_99_99" class="fnanchor">[99]</a> completely in the <i>dark</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of vot might be his neighbor's <i>mark</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Resolved his <i>fibbing</i><a name="FNanchor_100_100" id="FNanchor_100_100"></a><a href="#Footnote_100_100" class="fnanchor">[100]</a> not to mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor yet to <i>pay him back in kind</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So on each other <i>kept they tout</i>,<a name="FNanchor_101_101" id="FNanchor_101_101"></a><a href="#Footnote_101_101" class="fnanchor">[101]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <i>sparred</i> a bit, and <i>dodged</i> about,<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Ri, tol, lol, &c.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vith <i>mawleys</i><a name="FNanchor_102_102" id="FNanchor_102_102"></a><a href="#Footnote_102_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</a> raised, Tom bent his back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if to <i>plant</i> a heavy thwack:<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Vile Jem, with neat left-handed <i>stopper</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Straight threatened Tommy with a <i>topper</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis all my eye! no <i>claret</i> flows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No <i>facers</i> sound—no smashing blows—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Five minutes pass, yet not a <i>hit</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How can it end, pals?—vait a bit.<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Ri, tol, lol, &c.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Each cove vas <i>teazed</i> with double duty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To please his backers, yet <i>play booty</i>;<a name="FNanchor_103_103" id="FNanchor_103_103"></a><a href="#Footnote_103_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ven, luckily for Jem, a <i>teller</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vos planted right upon his <i>smeller</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down dropped he, stunned; ven time vas called,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seconds in vain the <i>seconds</i> bawled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The <i>mill</i> is o'er, the crosser <i>crost</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The loser's <i>von</i>, the vinner's <i>lost</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>Ri, tol, lol, &c.</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>The party assumed once more a lively air, and the glass was +circulated so freely, that at last a final charge drained the +ample bowl of its contents.</p> + +<p>"The best of friends must part," said Dick; "and I would +willingly order another whiff of punch, but I think we have all +had <i>enough to satisfy us</i>, as you milling coves have it, Zory! +Your one eye has got a drop in it already, old fellow; and, to +speak the truth, I must be getting into the saddle without +more delay, for I have a long ride before me. And now, +friend Jerry, before I start, suppose you tip us one of your +merry staves; we haven't heard your pipe to-day, and never a +cross cove of us all can throw off so prime a chant as yourself. +A song! a song!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, a song!" reiterated King and the Magus.</p> + +<p>"You do me too much honor, gemmen," said Jerry, modestly, +taking a pinch of snuff; "I am sure I shall be most +happy. My chants are all of a sort. You must make all due +allowances—hem!" And, clearing his throat, he forthwith +warbled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span></p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE MODERN GREEK</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>Not</i> translated from the Romaic.)</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 20em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, gemmen, name, and make your game,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">See, round the ball is spinning.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black, red, or blue, the colors view,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Une</i>, <i>deux</i>, <i>cinque</i>, 'tis beginning,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Then make your game,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The color name,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">While round the ball is spinning.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This sleight of hand my <i>flat</i> shall <i>land</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">While <i>covered</i> by my <i>bonnet</i>,<a name="FNanchor_104_104" id="FNanchor_104_104"></a><a href="#Footnote_104_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I <i>plant</i> my ball, and boldly call,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come make your game upon it!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Thus rat-a-tat!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I land my flat!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'Tis black—not red—is winning.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At gay <i>roulette</i> was never met<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A lance like mine for <i>bleeding</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm ne'er <i>at fault</i>, at nothing halt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All other <i>legs</i> preceding.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To all awake,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I never shake<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A <i>mag</i><a name="FNanchor_105_105" id="FNanchor_105_105"></a><a href="#Footnote_105_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</a> unless I nip it.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Blind-hookey</i> sees how well I squeeze<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The <i>well-packed</i> cards in shuffling.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ecarté, whist, I never missed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A nick the <i>broads</i><a name="FNanchor_106_106" id="FNanchor_106_106"></a><a href="#Footnote_106_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</a> while ruffling.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Mogul or loo,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The same I do,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I am down to trumps as trippet!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>French hazard</i> ta'en, <i>I nick the main</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was ne'er so prime a <i>caster</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No <i>crabs</i> for me, I'm fly, d'ye see;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The bank shall change its master.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Seven <i>quatre</i>, <i>trois</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The stakes are high!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ten <i>mains</i>! ten <i>mains</i> are mine, pals!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At <i>Rouge et Noir</i>, you <i>hellite</i><a name="FNanchor_107_107" id="FNanchor_107_107"></a><a href="#Footnote_107_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</a> choir<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll make no bones of stripping;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One glorious <i>coup</i> for me shall <i>do</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While they may deal each <i>pip</i> in.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Trente-un-après</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ne'er clogs my way;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The game—the game's divine, pals.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At billiards set, I make my bet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll <i>score</i> and win the <i>rub</i>, pals;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I miss my <i>cue</i>, my <i>hazard</i>, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But yet my foe I'll drub, pals.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">That <i>cannon-twist</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I ne'er had missed,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Unless to suit my views, pals.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To make all right, the match look <i>tight</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This trick, you know, is done, pals;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now be gay, I'll <i>show</i> my play—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hurrah! the game is won, pals.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">No hand so fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">No wrist like mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">No odds I e'er refuse, pals.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then choose your game; whate'er you name,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To me alike all offers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chic-hazard, whist, whate'er you list,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Replenish quick your coffers.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Thus, rat-a-tat!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I <i>land</i> my <i>flat</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To every purse I <i>speak</i>, pals.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Cramped boxes</i> 'ware, all's right and fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Barred balls</i> I <i>bar</i> when goaded;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The deuce an ace is out of place!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The deuce a die is <i>loaded</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Then make your game,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Your color name;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Success attend the <i>Greek</i>, pals.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"Bravo, Jerry—bravissimo!" chorused the party.</p> + +<p>"And now, pals, farewell!—a long farewell!" said Dick, in a +tone of theatrical valediction. "As I said before, the best<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span> +friends must separate. We may soon meet again, or we now +may part forever. We cannot command our luck; but we can +make the best of the span allotted to us. You have your game +to play. I have mine. May each of us meet with the success +he deserves."</p> + +<p>"Egad! I hope not," said King. "I'm afraid, in that +case, the chances would be against us."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, the success we anticipate, if you prefer it," +rejoined Dick. "I have only to observe one thing more, +namely, that I must insist upon standing Sam upon the present +occasion. Not a word. I won't hear a syllable. Landlord, +I say—what oh!" continued Dick, stepping out of the +arbor. "Here, my old Admiral of the White, what's the +reckoning?—what's to pay, I say?"</p> + +<p>"Let ye know directly, sir," replied mine host of the +Falstaff.</p> + +<p>"Order my horse—the black mare," added Dick.</p> + +<p>"And mine," said King, "the sorrel colt. I'll ride with +you a mile or two on the road, Dick; perhaps we may stumble +upon something."</p> + +<p>"Very likely."</p> + +<p>"We meet at twelve, at D'Osyndar's, Jerry," said King, "if +nothing happens."</p> + +<p>"Agreed," responded Juniper.</p> + +<p>"What say you to a rubber at bowls, in the mean time?" +said the Magus, taking his everlasting pipe from his lips.</p> + +<p>Jerry nodded acquiescence. And while they went in search +of the implements of the game, Turpin and King sauntered +gently on the green.</p> + +<p>It was a delicious evening. The sun was slowly declining, +and glowed like a ball of fire amid the thick foliage of a neighboring +elm. Whether, like the robber Moor, Tom King was +touched by this glorious sunset, we pretend not to determine. +Certain it was that a shade of inexpressible melancholy passed +across his handsome countenance, as he gazed in the direction<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span> +of Harrow-on-the Hill, which, lying to the west of the green +upon which they walked, stood out with its pointed spire and +lofty college against the ruddy sky. He spoke not. But Dick +noticed the passing emotion.</p> + +<p>"What ails you, Tom?" said he, with much kindness of +manner—"are you not well, lad?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am well enough," said King; "I know not what +came over me, but looking at Harrow, I thought of my school +days, and what I was <i>then</i>, and that bright prospect reminded +me of my boyish hopes."</p> + +<p>"Tut—tut," said Dick, "this is idle—you are a man now."</p> + +<p>"I know I am," replied Tom, "but I <i>have</i> been a boy. +Had I any faith in presentiments, I should say this is the last +sunset I shall ever see."</p> + +<p>"Here comes our host," said Dick, smiling. "I've no +presentiment that this is the last bill I shall ever pay."</p> + +<p>The bill was brought and settled. As Turpin paid it, the +man's conduct was singular, and awakened his suspicions.</p> + +<p>"Are our horses ready?" asked Dick, quickly.</p> + +<p>"They are, sir," said the landlord.</p> + +<p>"Let us be gone," whispered Dick to King; "I don't like +this fellow's manner. I thought I heard a carriage draw up at +the inn door just now—there may be danger. Be fly!" +added he to Jerry and the Magus. "Now, sir," said he to the +landlord, "lead the way. Keep on the alert, Tom."</p> + +<p>Dick's hint was not lost upon the two bowlers. They +watched their comrades; and listened intently for any manifestation +of alarm.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III4" id="CHAPTER_III4"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>A SURPRISE</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="center">Was this well done, Jenny?—<i>Captain Macheath.</i></p></div> + + +<p>While Turpin and King are walking across the bowling-green, +we will see what has taken place outside the inn. +Tom's presentiments of danger were not, it appeared, without +foundation. Scarcely had the ostler brought forth our two +highwaymen's steeds, when a post-chaise, escorted by two or +three horsemen, drove furiously up to the door. The sole occupant +of the carriage was a lady, whose slight and pretty +figure was all that could be distinguished, her face being +closely veiled. The landlord, who was busied in casting up Turpin's +account, rushed forth at the summons. A word or two +passed between him and the horsemen, upon which the former's +countenance fell. He posted in the direction of the +garden; and the horsemen instantly dismounted.</p> + +<p>"We have him now, sure enough," said one of them, a very +small man, who looked, in his boots, like Buckle equipped for +the Oaks.</p> + +<p>"By the powers! I begin to think so," replied the other +horseman. "But don't spoil all, Mr. Coates, by being too +precipitate."</p> + +<p>"Never fear that, Mr. Tyrconnel," said Coates; for it was +the gallant attorney: "he's sure to come for his mare. That's +a <i>trap</i> certain to catch him, eh, Mr. Paterson? With the chief +constable of Westminster to back us, the devil's in it if we are +not a match for him."</p> + +<p>"And for Tom King, too," replied the chief constable; +"since his blowen's peached, the game's up with him, too.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span> +We've long had an eye upon him, and now we'll have a finger. +He's one of your dashing trouts to whom we always give a long +line, but we'll <i>land</i> him this time, anyhow. If you'll look after +Dick Turpin, gemmen, I'll make sure of Tom."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather you would help <i>us</i>, Mr. Paterson," said Coates; +"never mind Tom King; another time will do for him."</p> + +<p>"No such thing," said Paterson; "one <i>weighs</i> just as much +for that matter as t'other. I'll take Tom to myself, and surely +you two, with the landlord and ostler, can manage Turpin +amongst you."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that," said Coates, doubtfully; "he's a devil +of a fellow to deal with."</p> + +<p>"Take him quietly," said Paterson. "Draw the chaise out +of the way, lad. Take our tits to one side, and place their +nags near the door, ostler. Shall you be able to see him, +ma'am, where you are?" asked the chief constable, walking +to the carriage, and touching his hat to the lady within. +Having received a satisfactory nod from the bonnet and veil, +he returned to his companions. "And now, gemmen," added +he, "let's step aside a little. Don't use your fire-arms too +soon."</p> + +<p>As if conscious of what was passing around her, and of the +danger that awaited her master, Black Bess exhibited so much +impatience, and plunged so violently, that it was with difficulty +the ostler could hold her. "The devil's in the mare," said +he; "what's the matter with her? She was quiet enough a +few minutes since. Soho! lass, stand."</p> + +<p>Turpin and King, meanwhile, walked quickly through the +house, preceded by the host, who conducted them, and not +without some inward trepidation, towards the door. Arrived +there, each man rushed swiftly to his horse. Dick was in the +saddle in an instant, and stamping her foot on the ostler's leg, +Black Bess compelled the man, yelling with pain, to quit his +hold of the bridle. Tom King was not equally fortunate. +Before he could mount his horse, a loud shout was raised, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span> +startled the animal, and caused him to swerve, so that Tom +lost his footing in the stirrup, and fell to the ground. He was +instantly seized by Paterson, and a struggle commenced, King +endeavoring, but in vain, to draw a pistol.</p> + +<p>"Flip him,<a name="FNanchor_108_108" id="FNanchor_108_108"></a><a href="#Footnote_108_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</a> Dick; fire, or I'm taken," cried King. "Fire! +damn you, why don't you fire?" shouted he, in desperation, +still struggling vehemently with Paterson, who was a strong +man, and more than a match for a light weight like King.</p> + +<p>"I can't," cried Dick; "I shall hit you, if I fire."</p> + +<p>"Take your chance," shouted King. "Is <i>this</i> your friendship?"</p> + +<p>Thus urged, Turpin fired. The ball ripped up the sleeve of +Paterson's coat, but did not wound him.</p> + +<p>"Again!" cried King. "Shoot him, I say. Don't you +hear me? Fire again!"</p> + +<p>Pressed as he was by foes on every side, himself their mark, +for both Coates and Tyrconnel had fired upon him, and were +now mounting their steeds to give chase, it was impossible +that Turpin could take sure aim; added to which, in the +struggle, Paterson and King were each moment changing their +relative positions. He, however, would no longer hesitate, but +again, at his friend's request, fired. The ball lodged itself in +King's breast! He fell at once. At this instant a shriek was +heard from the chaise: the window was thrown open, and her +thick veil being drawn aside, the features of a very pretty +female, now impressed with terror and contrition, were suddenly +exhibited.</p> + +<p>King fixed his glazing eyes upon her.</p> + +<p>"Susan!" sighed he, "is it you that I behold?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, 'tis she, sure enough," said Paterson. "You +see, ma'am, what you and such like have brought him to. +However, you'll lose your reward; he's going fast enough."</p> + +<p>"Reward!" gasped King; "reward! Did she betray me?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, sir," said Paterson, "she blowed the gaff, if it's +any consolation to you to know it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Consolation!" repeated the dying man; "perfidious!—oh!—the +prophecy—my best friend—Turpin—I die by his +hand."</p> + +<p>And vainly striving to raise himself, he fell backwards and +expired. Alas, poor Tom!</p> + +<p>"Mr. Paterson! Mr. Paterson!" cried Coates; "leave the +landlord to look after the body of that dying ruffian, and +mount with us in pursuit of the living rascal. Come, sir; +quick! mount! despatch! You see he is yonder; he seems +to hesitate; we shall have him now."</p> + +<p>"Well, gemmen, I'm ready," said Paterson; "but how the +devil came you to let him escape?"</p> + +<p>"Saint Patrick only knows!" said Titus; "he's as slippery +as an eel—and, like a cat, turn him which way you will, he is +always sure to alight upon his legs. I wouldn't wonder but we +lose him now, after all, though he has such a small start. That +mare flies like the wind."</p> + +<p>"He shall have a tight run for it, at all events," said Paterson, +putting spurs into his horse. "I've got a good nag under +me, and you are neither of you badly mounted. He's only +three hundred yards before us, and the devil's in it if we can't +run him down. It's a three hundred pound job, Mr. Coates, +and well worth a race."</p> + +<p>"You shall have another hundred from me, sir, if you take +him," said Coates, urging his steed forward.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir, thank you. Follow my directions, and +we'll make sure of him," said the constable. "Gently, gently, +not so fast up the hill—you see he's breathing his horse. All +in good time, Mr. Coates—all in good time, sir."</p> + +<p>And maintaining an equal distance, both parties cantered +leisurely up the ascent now called Windmill Hill. We shall +now return to Turpin.</p> + +<p>Aghast at the deed he had accidentally committed, Dick +remained for a few moments irresolute; he perceived that +King was mortally wounded, and that all attempts at rescue<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span> +would be fruitless; he perceived, likewise, that Jerry and the +Magus had effected their escape from the bowling-green, as +he could detect their figures stealing along the hedge-side. +He hesitated no longer. Turning his horse, he galloped +slowly off, little heeding the pursuit with which he was +threatened.</p> + +<p>"Every bullet has its billet," said Dick; "but little did I +think that I really should turn poor Tom's executioner. To +the devil with this rascally snapper," cried he, throwing the +pistol over the hedge. "I could never have used it again. +'Tis strange, too, that he should have foretold his own fate—devilish +strange! And then that he should have been +betrayed by the very blowen he trusted! that's a lesson, if I +wanted any. But trust a woman!—not I, the length of my +little finger."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV4" id="CHAPTER_IV4"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>THE HUE AND CRY</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 16em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Six gentlemen upon the road<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thus seeing Gilpin fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With postboy scampering in the rear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They raised the hue and cry:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stop thief! stop thief! a highwayman!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not one of them was mute;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all and each that passed that way<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did join in the pursuit.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>John Gilpin.</i></p></div> + + +<p>Arrived at the brow of the hill, whence such a beautiful +view of the country surrounding the metropolis is obtained,<a name="FNanchor_109_109" id="FNanchor_109_109"></a><a href="#Footnote_109_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</a> +Turpin turned for an instant to reconnoitre his pursuers. +Coates and Titus he utterly disregarded; but Paterson was a +more formidable foe, and he well knew that he had to deal +with a man of experience and resolution. It was then, for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span> +first time, that the thoughts of executing his extraordinary ride +to York first flashed across him; his bosom throbbed high +with rapture, and he involuntarily exclaimed aloud, as he raised +himself in the saddle, "By God! I will do it!"</p> + +<p>He took one last look at the great Babel that lay buried in +a world of trees beneath him; and as his quick eye ranged +over the magnificent prospect, lit up by that gorgeous sunset, +he could not help thinking of Tom King's last words. "Poor +fellow!" thought Dick, "he said truly. He will never see +another sunset." Aroused by the approaching clatter of his +pursuers, Dick struck into a lane which lies on the right of the +road, now called Shoot-up-hill Lane, and set off at a good +pace in the direction of Hampstead.</p> + +<p>"Now," cried Paterson, "put your tits to it, my boys. We +must not lose sight of him for a second in these lanes."</p> + +<p>Accordingly, as Turpin was by no means desirous of inconveniencing +his mare in this early stage of the business, and as +the ground was still upon an ascent, the parties preserved their +relative distances.</p> + +<p>At length, after various twistings and turnings in that deep +and devious lane; after scaring one or two farmers, and riding +over a brood or two of ducks; dipping into the verdant valley +of West End, and ascending another hill, Turpin burst upon +the gorsy, sandy, and beautiful heath of Hampstead. Shaping +his course to the left, Dick then made for the lower part of +the heath, and skirted a path that leads towards North End, +passing the furze-crowned summit which is now crested by a +clump of lofty pines.</p> + +<p>It was here that the chase first assumed a character of interest. +Being open ground, the pursued and pursuers were in full +view of each other; and as Dick rode swiftly across the heath, +with the shouting trio hard at his heels, the scene had a very +animated appearance. He crossed the hill—the Hendon +Road—passed Crackskull Common—and dashed along the +cross road to Highgate.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hitherto no advantage had been gained by the pursuers; +they had not lost ground, but still they had not gained an inch, +and much spurring was required to maintain their position. +As they approached Highgate, Dick slackened his pace, and +the other party redoubled their efforts. To avoid the town, +Dick struck into a narrow path at the right, and rode easily +down the hill.</p> + +<p>His pursuers were now within a hundred yards, and shouted +to him to stand. Pointing to a gate which seemed to bar +their further progress, Dick unhesitatingly charged it, clearing +it in beautiful style. Not so with Coates's party; and the +time they lost in unfastening the gate, which none of them +chose to leap, enabled Dick to put additional space betwixt +them. It did not, however, appear to be his intention altogether +to outstrip his pursuers: the chase seemed to give him +excitement, which he was willing to prolong as much as was +consistent with his safety. Scudding rapidly past Highgate, +like a swift-sailing schooner, with three lumbering Indiamen +in her wake, Dick now took the lead along a narrow lane that +threads the fields in the direction of Hornsey. The shouts of +his followers had brought others to join them, and as he +neared Crouch End, traversing the lane which takes its name +from Du-Val, and in which a house frequented by that gayest +of robbers stands, or stood, "A highwayman! a highwayman!" +rang in his ears, in a discordant chorus of many voices.</p> + +<p>The whole neighborhood was alarmed by the cries, and by +the tramp of horses: the men of Hornsey rushed into the +road to seize the fugitive, and women held up their babes to +catch a glimpse of the flying cavalcade, which seemed to gain +number and animation as it advanced. Suddenly three horsemen +appear in the road—they hear the uproar and the din. +"A highwayman! a highwayman!" cry the voices: "stop +him, stop him!" But it is no such easy matter. With a +pistol in each hand, and his bridle in his teeth, Turpin passed +boldly on. His fierce looks—his furious steed—the impetus<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span> +with which he pressed forward, bore down all before him. +The horsemen gave way, and only served to swell the list of +his pursuers.</p> + +<p>"We have him now—we have him now!" cried Paterson, +exultingly. "Shout for your lives. The turnpike man will +hear us. Shout again—again! The fellow has heard it. +The gate is shut. We have him. Ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>The old Hornsey toll-bar was a high gate, with chevaux-de-frise +on the upper rail. It may be so still. The gate was +swung into its lock, and, like a tiger in his lair, the prompt +custodian of the turnpike trusts, ensconced within his doorway, +held himself in readiness to spring upon the runaway. +But Dick kept steadily on. He coolly calculated the height +of the gate; he looked to the right and to the left—nothing +better offered; he spoke a few words of encouragement to +Bess, gently patted her neck, then struck his spurs into her +sides, and cleared the spikes by an inch. Out rushed the +amazed turnpike man, thus unmercifully bilked, and was +nearly trampled to death under the feet of Paterson's horse.</p> + +<p>"Open the gate, fellow, and be expeditious," shouted the +chief constable.</p> + +<p>"Not I," said the man, sturdily, "unless I gets my dues. +I've been done once already. But strike me stupid if I'm +done a second time."</p> + +<p>"Don't you perceive that's a highwayman? Don't you +know that I'm chief constable of Westminster?" said Paterson, +showing his staff. "How dare you oppose me in the discharge +of my duty?"</p> + +<p>"That may be, or it may not be," said the man, doggedly. +"But you don't pass, unless I gets the blunt, and that's the +long and short on it."</p> + +<p>Amidst a storm of oaths, Coates flung down a crown piece, +and the gate was thrown open.</p> + +<p>Turpin took advantage of this delay to breathe his mare; +and, striking into a by-lane at Duckett's Green, cantered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span> +easily along in the direction of Tottenham. Little repose +was allowed him. Yelling like a pack of hounds in full cry, +his pursuers were again at his heels. He had now to run the +gauntlet of the long straggling town of Tottenham, and various +were the devices of the populace to entrap him. The whole +place was up in arms, shouting, screaming, running, dancing, +and hurling every possible description of missile at the horse +and her rider. Dick merrily responded to their clamor as he +flew past, and laughed at the brickbats that were showered +thick as hail, and quite as harmlessly, around him.</p> + +<p>A few more miles' hard riding tired the volunteers, and +before the chase reached Edmonton most of them were +"<i>nowhere</i>." Here fresh relays were gathered, and a strong +field was again mustered. John Gilpin himself could not have +excited more astonishment amongst the good folks of Edmonton, +than did our highwayman as he galloped through their +town. Unlike the men of Tottenham, the mob received him +with acclamations, thinking, no doubt, that, like "the citizens +of famous London town," he rode for a wager. Presently, +however, borne on the wings of the blast, came the cries of +"Turpin! Dick Turpin!" and the hurrahs were changed to +hootings; but such was the rate at which our highwayman +rode, that no serious opposition could be offered to him.</p> + +<p>A man in a donkey-cart, unable to get out of the way, drew +himself up in the middle of the road. Turpin treated him as +he had done the <i>dub</i> at the <i>knapping jigger</i>, and cleared the +driver and his little wain with ease. This was a capital stroke, +and well adapted to please the multitude, who are ever taken +with a brilliant action. "Hark away, Dick!" resounded on +all hands, while hisses were as liberally bestowed upon his +pursuers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V4" id="CHAPTER_V4"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>THE SHORT PIPE</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The Peons are capital horsemen, and several times we saw them, at +a gallop, throw the rein on the horse's neck, take from one pocket a +bag of loose tobacco, and, with a piece of paper, or a leaf of Indian +corn, make a cigar, and then take out a flint and steel and light it.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Head's</span> <i>Rough Notes</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>Away they fly past scattered cottages, swiftly and skimmingly, +like eagles on the wing, along the Enfield highway. +All were well mounted, and the horses, now thoroughly warmed, +had got into their paces, and did their work beautifully. None +of Coates's party lost ground, but they maintained it at the +expense of their steeds, which were streaming like water-carts, +while Black Bess had scarcely turned a hair.</p> + +<p>Turpin, the reader already knows, was a crack rider; he +was <i>the</i> crack rider of England of his time, and, perhaps, of +any time. The craft and mystery of jockeyship was not so +well understood in the eighteenth as it is in the nineteenth +century; men treated their horses differently, and few rode +them as well as many ride now, when every youngster takes to +the field as naturally as if he had been bred a Guacho. Dick +Turpin was a glorious exception to the rule, and anticipated a +later age. He rode wonderfully lightly, yet sat his saddle to +perfection, distributing the weight so exquisitely that his horse +scarcely felt his pressure; he yielded to every movement made +by the animal, and became, as it were, part and parcel of +itself; he took care Bess should be neither strained nor wrung. +Freely, and as lightly as a feather, was she borne along; beautiful +was it to see her action—to watch her style and temper<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span> +of covering the ground; and many a first-rate Meltonian +might have got a wrinkle from Turpin's seat and conduct.</p> + +<p>We have before stated that it was not Dick's object to <i>ride +away</i> from his pursuers—he could have done that at any +moment. He liked the fun of the chase, and would have been +sorry to put a period to his own excitement. Confident in his +mare, he just kept her at such speed as should put his pursuers +completely <i>to it</i>, without in the slightest degree inconveniencing +himself. Some judgment of the speed at which they +went may be formed, when we state that little better than an +hour had elapsed and nearly twenty miles had been ridden +over. "Not bad travelling that," methinks we hear the reader +exclaim.</p> + +<p>"By the mother that bore me," said Titus, as they went +along in this slapping style—Titus, by-the-by, rode a big, +Roman-nosed, powerful horse, well adapted to his weight, but +which required a plentiful exercise both of leg and arm to call +forth all his action, and keep his rider alongside his companions—"by +the mother that bore me," said he, almost +thumping the wind out of his flea-bitten Bucephalus with his +calves, after the Irish fashion, "if the fellow isn't lighting his +pipe! I saw the sparks fly on each side of him, and there he +goes like a smoky chimney on a frosty morning! See, he +turns his impudent phiz, with the pipe in his mouth! Are we +to stand that, Mr. Coates?"</p> + +<p>"Wait awhile, sir—wait awhile," said Coates; "we'll smoke +<i>him</i> by-and-by."</p> + +<p>Pæans have been sung in honor of the Peons of the Pampas +by the <i>Head</i>long Sir Francis; but what the gallant major extols +so loudly in the South American horsemen, viz., the lighting of +a cigar when in mid career, was accomplished with equal ease +by our English highwayman a hundred years ago, nor was it +esteemed by him any extravagant feat either. Flint, steel, and +tinder were bestowed within Dick's ample pouch, the short +pipe was at hand, and within a few seconds there was a stream<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span> +of vapor exhaling from his lips, like the smoke from a steamboat +shooting down the river, and tracking his still rapid +course through the air.</p> + +<p>"I'll let 'em see what I think of 'em!" said Dick, coolly, +as he turned his head.</p> + +<p>It was now gray twilight. The mists of coming night were +weaving a thin curtain over the rich surrounding landscape. +All the sounds and hum of that delicious hour were heard, +broken only by the regular clatter of the horses' hoofs. Tired +of shouting, the chasers now kept on their way in deep silence; +each man held his breath, and plunged his spurs, rowel deep, +into his horse; but the animals were already at the top of +their speed, and incapable of greater exertion. Paterson, who +was a hard rider, and perhaps a thought better mounted, kept +the lead. The rest followed as they might.</p> + +<p>Had it been undisturbed by the rush of the cavalcade, the +scene would have been still and soothing. Overhead a cloud +of rooks were winging their garrulous flight to the ancestral +avenue of an ancient mansion to the right; the bat was on the +wing; the distant lowing of a herd of kine saluted the ear at +intervals; the blithe whistle of the rustic herdsman, and the +merry chime of waggon bells, rang pleasantly from afar. But +these cheerful sounds, which make the still twilight hour delightful, +were lost in the tramp of the horsemen, now three +abreast. The hind fled to the hedge for shelter, and the waggoner +pricked up his ears, and fancied he heard the distant +rumbling of an earthquake.</p> + +<p>On rush the pack, whipping, spurring, tugging for very life. +Again they gave voice, in hopes the waggoner might succeed +in stopping the fugitive. But Dick was already by his side. +"Harkee, my tulip," cried he, taking the pipe from his mouth +as he passed, "tell my friends behind they will hear of me +at York."</p> + +<p>"What did he say?" asked Paterson, coming up the next +moment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[385]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That you'll find him at York," replied the waggoner.</p> + +<p>"At York!" echoed Coates, in amaze.</p> + +<p>Turpin was now out of sight, and although our trio flogged +with might and main, they could never catch a glimpse of him +until, within a short distance of Ware, they beheld him at the +door of a little public house, standing with his bridle in his +hand, coolly quaffing a tankard of ale. No sooner were +they in sight, than Dick vaulted into the saddle, and rode +off.</p> + +<p>"Devil seize you, sir! why didn't you stop him?" exclaimed +Paterson, as he rode up. "My horse is dead lame. I cannot +go any further. Do you know what a prize you have missed? +Do you know who that was?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I don't," said the publican. "But I know he +gave his mare more ale than he took himself, and he has given +me a guinea instead of a shilling. He's a regular good +'un."</p> + +<p>"A good 'un!" said Paterson; "it was Turpin, the notorious +highwayman. We are in pursuit of him. Have you any +horses? our cattle are all blown."</p> + +<p>"You'll find the post-house in the town, gentlemen. I'm +sorry I can't accommodate you. But I keeps no stabling. I +wish you a very good evening, sir." Saying which, the publican +retreated to his domicile.</p> + +<p>"That's a flash crib, I'll be bound," said Paterson. "I'll +chalk you down, my friend, you may rely upon it. Thus far +we're done, Mr. Coates. But curse me if I give it in. I'll +follow him to the world's end first."</p> + +<p>"Right, sir—right," said the attorney. "A very proper +spirit, Mr. Constable. You would be guilty of neglecting your +duty were you to act otherwise. You must recollect my +father, Mr. Paterson—Christopher, or Kit Coates; a name as +well known at the Old Bailey as Jonathan Wild's. You recollect +him—eh?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly well, sir," replied the chief constable.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[386]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The greatest thief-taker, though I say it," continued +Coates, "on record. I inherit all his zeal—all his ardor. +Come along, sir. We shall have a fine moon in an hour—bright +as day. To the post-house! to the post-house!"</p> + +<p>Accordingly to the post-house they went; and, with as little +delay as circumstances admitted, fresh hacks being procured, +accompanied by a postilion, the party again pursued their +onward course, encouraged to believe they were still in the +right scent.</p> + +<p>Night had now spread her mantle over the earth; still it +was not wholly dark. A few stars were twinkling in the deep, +cloudless heavens, and a pearly radiance in the eastern horizon +heralded the rising of the orb of night. A gentle breeze was +stirring; the dews of evening had already fallen; and the air +felt bland and dry. It was just the night one would have +chosen for a ride, if one ever rode by choice at such an hour; +and to Turpin, whose chief excursions were conducted by +night, it appeared little less than heavenly.</p> + +<p>Full of ardor and excitement, determined to execute what +he had mentally undertaken, Turpin held on his solitary course. +Everything was favorable to his project; the roads were in admirable +condition, his mare was in like order; she was inured +to hard work, had rested sufficiently in town to recover from +the fatigue of her recent journey, and had never been in more +perfect training. "She has now got her wind in her," said +Dick; "I'll see what she can do—hark away, lass—hark away! +I wish they could see her now," added he, as he felt her +almost fly away with him.</p> + +<p>Encouraged by her master's voice and hand, Black +Bess started forward at a pace which few horses could +have equalled, and scarcely any have sustained so long. +Even Dick, accustomed as he was to her magnificent +action, felt electrified at the speed with which he was +borne along. "Bravo! bravo!" shouted he, "hark away, +Bess!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[387]</a></span></p> + +<p>The deep and solemn woods through which they were rushing +rang with his shouts, and the sharp rattle of Bess's hoofs; +and thus he held his way, while, in the words of the ballad,</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 16em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fled past, on right and left, how fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each forest, grove, and bower;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On right and left, fled past, how fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each city, town, and tower.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI4" id="CHAPTER_VI4"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>BLACK BESS</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Dauphin.</i> I will not change my horse with any that treads but on +four pasterns. <i>Ca, ha!</i> He bounds from the earth as if his entrails +were hairs; <i>le cheval volant</i>, the Pegasus <i>qui a les narines de feu</i>! +When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the earth +sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is more musical +than the pipe of Hermes.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span>: <i>Henry V., Act III.</i></p></div> + + +<p>Black Bess being undoubtedly the heroine of the Fourth +Book of this Romance, we may, perhaps, be pardoned for +expatiating a little in this place upon her birth, parentage, +breeding, appearance, and attractions. And first as to her +pedigree; for in the horse, unlike the human species, nature +has strongly impressed the noble or ignoble caste. He is the +real aristocrat, and the pure blood that flows in the veins of +the gallant steed will infallibly be transmitted, if his mate be +suitable, throughout all his line. Bess was no <i>cock-tail</i>. She +was thorough-bred; she boasted blood in every bright and +branching vein:</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 17em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If blood can give nobility,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A noble steed was she;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sire was blood, and blood her dam,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all her pedigree.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[388]</a></span>As to her pedigree. Her sire was a desert Arab, renowned +in his day, and brought to this country by a wealthy traveller; +her dam was an English racer, coal-black as her child. Bess +united all the fire and gentleness, the strength and hardihood, +the abstinence and endurance of fatigue of the one, with the +spirit and extraordinary fleetness of the other. How Turpin +became possessed of her is of little consequence. We never +heard that he paid a heavy price for her; though we doubt if +any sum would have induced him to part with her. In color, +she was perfectly black, with a skin smooth on the surface as +polished jet; not a single white hair could be detected in her +satin coat. In make she was magnificent. Every point was +perfect, beautiful, compact; modelled, in little, for strength +and speed. Arched was her neck, as that of the swan; clean +and fine were her lower limbs, as those of the gazelle; round +and sound as a drum was her carcase, and as broad as a cloth-yard +shaft her width of chest. Hers were the "<i>pulchræ clunes, +breve caput, arduaque cervix</i>," of the Roman bard. There +was no redundancy of flesh, 'tis true; her flanks might, to +please some tastes, have been rounder, and her shoulders fuller; +but look at the nerve and sinew, palpable through the veined +limbs! She was built more for strength than beauty, and yet +she <i>was</i> beautiful. Look at that elegant little head; those +thin, tapering ears, closely placed together; that broad, +snorting nostril, which seems to snuff the gale with disdain; +that eye, glowing and large as the diamond of Giamschid! +Is she not beautiful? Behold her paces! how gracefully +she moves! She is off!—no eagle on the wing could +skim the air more swiftly. Is she not superb? As to her +temper, the lamb is not more gentle. A child might guide +her.</p> + +<p>But hark back to Dick Turpin. We left him rattling along +in superb style, and in the highest possible glee. He could +not, in fact, be otherwise than exhilarated; nothing being so +wildly intoxicating as a mad gallop. We seem to start out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[389]</a></span> +ourselves—to be endued, for the time, with new energies. +Our thoughts take wings rapid as our steed. We feel as if his +fleetness and boundless impulses were for the moment our +own. We laugh; we exult; we shout for very joy. We +cry out with Mephistopheles, but in anything but a sardonic +mood, "What I enjoy with spirit, is it the less my own on +that account? If I can pay for six horses, are not their powers +mine! I drive along, and am a proper man, as if I had four-and-twenty +legs!" These were Turpin's sentiments precisely. +Give him four legs and a wide plain, and he needed no Mephistopheles +to bid him ride to perdition as fast as his nag could +carry him. Away, away!—the road is level, the path is clear. +Press on, thou gallant steed, no obstacle is in thy way!—and, +lo! the moon breaks forth! Her silvery light is thrown +over the woody landscape. Dark shadows are cast athwart the +road, and the flying figures of thy rider and thyself are traced, +like giant phantoms, in the dust!</p> + +<p>Away, away! our breath is gone in keeping up with this +tremendous run. Yet Dick Turpin has not lost his wind, for +we hear his cheering cry—hark! he sings. The reader will +bear in mind that Oliver means the moon—to "whiddle" is +to blab.</p> + + +<p class="hd1">OLIVER WHIDDLES!</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 20em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oliver whiddles—the tattler old!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Telling what best had been left untold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oliver ne'er was a friend of mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All glims I hate that so brightly shine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me a night black as hell, and then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See what I'll show to you, my merry men.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oliver whiddles!—who cares—who cares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If down upon us he peers and stares?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mind him who will, with his great white face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Boldly <i>I'll</i> ride by his glim to the chase;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give him a Rowland, and loudly as ever<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shout, as I show myself, "Stand and deliver!"<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[390]</a></span>"Egad," soliloquized Dick, as he concluded his song, looking +up at the moon. "Old Noll's no bad fellow, either. I +wouldn't be without his white face to-night for a trifle. He's +as good as a lamp to guide one, and let Bess only hold on as +she goes now, and I'll do it with ease. Softly, wench, softly—dost +not see it's a hill we're rising. The devil's in the mare, +she cares for nothing." And as they ascended the hill, Dick's +voice once more awoke the echoes of night.</p> + + + +<p class="hd1">WILL DAVIES AND DICK TURPIN</p> + +<p class="center">Hodiè mihi, cràs tibi.—<span class="smcap">Saint Augustin.</span></p> +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 26em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One night, when mounted on my mare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Bagshot Heath I did repair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw Will Davies hanging there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the gibbet bleak and bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>With a rustified, fustified, mustified air!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Within his chains bold Will looked blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone were his sword and snappers too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which served their master well and true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says I, "Will Davies, how are you?<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>With your rustified, fustified, mustified air!</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Says he, "Dick Turpin, here I be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the gibbet, as you see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I take the matter easily;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>You'll</i> have your turn as well as me,<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>With your whistle-me, pistol-me, cut-my-throat air!</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Says I, "That's very true, my lad;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meantime, with pistol and with prad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm quite contented as I am,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heed the gibbet not a d—n!<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>With its rustified, fustified, mustified air!</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"Poor Will Davies!" sighed Dick; "Bagshot ought never +to forget him."<a name="FNanchor_110_110" id="FNanchor_110_110"></a><a href="#Footnote_110_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[391]</a></span></p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 26em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For never more shall Bagshot see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A highwayman of such degree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Appearance, and gentility,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Will, who hangs upon the tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>With his rustified, fustified, mustified air!</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"Well," mused Turpin, "I suppose one day it will be with +me like all the rest of 'em, and that I shall dance a long lavolta +to the music of the four whistling winds, as my betters have +done before me; but I trust, whenever the chanter-culls and +last-speech scribblers get hold of me, they'll at least put no +cursed nonsense into my mouth, but make me speak, as I +have ever felt, like a man who never either feared death, or +turned his back upon his friend. In the mean time I'll give +them something to talk about. This ride of mine shall ring in +their ears long after I'm done for—put to bed with a mattock, +and tucked up with a spade.</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 23em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when I am gone, boys, each huntsman shall say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None rode like Dick Turpin, so far in a day.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>And thou, too, brave Bess!—thy name shall be linked with +mine, and we'll go down to posterity together; and what," +added he, despondingly, "if it should be too much for thee? +what if——but no matter! Better die now, while I am with +thee, than fall into the knacker's hands. Better die with all +thy honors upon thy head, than drag out thy old age at the +sand-cart. Hark forward, lass—hark forward!"</p> + +<p>By what peculiar instinct is it that this noble animal, the +horse, will at once perceive the slightest change in his rider's +physical temperament, and allow himself so to be influenced +by it, that, according as his master's spirits fluctuate, will his +own energies rise and fall, wavering</p> + +<p class="hd4">From walk to trot, from canter to full speed?</p> + +<p>How is it, we ask of those more intimately acquainted with +the metaphysics of the Houyhnhnm than we pretend to be?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[392]</a></span> +Do the saddle or the rein convey, like metallic tractors, vibrations +of the spirit betwixt the two? We know not, but this +much is certain, that no servant partakes so much of the character +of his master as the horse. The steed we are wont to +ride becomes a portion of ourselves. He thinks and feels with +us. As we are lively, he is sprightly; as we are depressed, his +courage droops. In proof of this, let the reader see what horses +some men make—<i>make</i>, we say, because in such hands their +character is wholly altered. Partaking, in a measure, of the +courage and the firmness of the hand that guides them, and of +the resolution of the frame that sways them—what their rider +wills, they do, or strive to do. When that governing power is +relaxed, their energies are relaxed likewise; and their fine +sensibilities supply them with an instant knowledge of the +disposition and capacity of the rider. A gift of the gods is the +gallant steed, which, like any other faculty we possess, to use +or to abuse—to command or to neglect—rests with ourselves; +he is the best general test of our own self-government.</p> + +<p>Black Bess's action amply verified what we have just asserted; +for during Turpin's momentary despondency, her pace was +perceptibly diminished and her force retarded; but as he revived, +she rallied instantly, and, seized apparently with a kindred +enthusiasm, snorted joyously as she recovered her speed. Now +was it that the child of the desert showed herself the undoubted +offspring of the hardy loins from whence she sprung. Full +fifty miles had she sped, yet she showed no symptoms of distress. +If possible, she appeared fresher than when she started. +She had breathed; her limbs were suppler; her action was +freer, easier, lighter. Her sire, who, upon his trackless wilds, +could have outstripped the pestilent simoom; and with throat +unslaked, and hunger unappeased, could thrice have seen the +scorching sun go down, had not greater powers of endurance. +His vigor was her heritage. Her dam, who upon the velvet +sod was of almost unapproachable swiftness, and who had often +brought her owner golden assurances of her worth, could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[393]</a></span> +scarce have kept pace with her, and would have sunk under a +third of her fatigue. But Bess was a paragon. We ne'er shall +look upon her like again, unless we can prevail upon some +Bedouin chief to present us with a brood mare, and then the +racing world shall see what a breed we will introduce into this +country. Eclipse, Childers, or Hambletonian, shall be nothing +to our colts, and even the railroad slow travelling, compared +with the speed of our new nags!</p> + +<p>But to return to Bess, or rather to go along with her, for +there is no halting now; we are going at the rate of twenty +knots an hour—sailing before the wind; and the reader must +either keep pace with us, or drop astern. Bess is now in her +speed, and Dick happy. Happy! he is enraptured—maddened—furious—intoxicated +as with wine. Pshaw! wine could +never throw him into such a burning delirium. Its choicest +juices have no inspiration like this. Its fumes are slow and +heady. This is ethereal, transporting. His blood spins +through his veins; winds round his heart; mounts to his +brain. Away! away! He is wild with joy. Hall, cot, tree, +tower, glade, mead, waste, or woodland, are seen, passed, left +behind, and vanish as in a dream. Motion is scarcely perceptible—it +is impetus! volition! The horse and her rider +are driven forward, as it were, by self-accelerated speed. A +hamlet is visible in the moonlight. It is scarcely discovered +ere the flints sparkle beneath the mare's hoofs. A moment's +clatter upon the stones, and it is left behind. Again it is the +silent, smiling country. Now they are buried in the darkness +of woods; now sweeping along on the wide plain; now clearing +the unopened toll-bar; now trampling over the hollow-sounding +bridge, their shadows momently reflected in the +placid mirror of the stream; now scaling the hill-side a +thought more slowly; now plunging, as the horses of Phœbus +into the ocean, down its precipitous sides.</p> + +<p>The limits of two shires are already past. They are within +the confines of a third. They have entered the merry county<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[394]</a></span> +of Huntingdon; they have surmounted the gentle hill that slips +into Godmanchester. They are by the banks of the rapid Ouse. +The bridge is past; and as Turpin rode through the deserted +streets of Huntingdon, he heard the eleventh hour given from +the iron tongue of St. Mary's spire. In four hours—it was about +seven when he started—Dick had accomplished full sixty miles!</p> + +<p>A few reeling topers in the streets saw the horseman flit +past, and one or two windows were thrown open; but Peeping +Tom of Coventry would have had small chance of beholding +the unveiled beauties of Queen Godiva had she ridden at the +rate of Dick Turpin. He was gone, like a meteor, almost as +soon as he appeared.</p> + +<p>Huntingdon is left behind, and he is once more surrounded +by dew-gemmed hedges and silent slumbering trees. Broad +meadows, or pasture land, with drowsy cattle, or low bleating +sheep, lie on either side. But what to Turpin, at that moment, +is nature, animate or inanimate? He thinks only of his mare—his +future fame. None are by to see him ride; no stimulating +plaudits ring in his ears; no thousand hands are clapping; +no thousand voices huzzaing; no handkerchiefs are +waved; no necks strained; no bright eyes rain influence upon +him; no eagle orbs watch his motions; no bells are rung; no +cup awaits his achievement; no sweepstakes—no plate. But +his will be renown—everlasting renown; his will be fame +which will not die with him—which will keep his reputation, +albeit a tarnished one, still in the mouths of men. He wants +all these adventitious excitements, but he has that within +which is a greater excitement than all these. He is conscious +that he is doing a deed to live by. If not riding for <i>life</i>, he is +riding for <i>immortality</i>; and as the hero may perchance feel—for +even a highwayman may feel like a hero,—when he willingly +throws away his existence in the hope of earning a +glorious name, Turpin cared not what might befall himself, so +he could proudly signalize himself as the first of his land,</p> + +<p class="hd4"><i>And witch the world with noble horsemanship!</i></p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[395]</a></span></p> + +<p>What need had he of spectators? The eye of posterity was +upon him; he felt the influence of that Argus glance which +has made many a poor wight spur on his Pegasus with not half +so good a chance of reaching the goal as Dick Turpin. Multitudes, +yet unborn, he knew would hear and laud his deeds. +He trembled with excitement, and Bess trembled under him. +But the emotion was transient. On, on they fly! The torrent +leaping from the crag—the bolt from the bow—the air-cleaving +eagle—thoughts themselves are scarce more winged +in their flight!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII4" id="CHAPTER_VII4"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>THE YORK STAGE</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">York, Four Days!</span>—<i>Stage Coach begins on Friday, the 18th of +April, 1706.</i> All that are desirous to pass from London to York, or +from York to London, or any other place on that road, let them repair +to the Black Swan, in Holborn, in London, or to the Black Swan, in Coney +Street, in York. At both which places they may be received in a <i>Stage +Coach</i>, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, which performs the +journey in four days—if God permits!—and sets forth at five in the +morning. And returns from York to Stamford in two days, and from +Stamford, by Huntingdon, in two days more. And the like stages in +their return. Allowing each passenger fourteen pounds' weight, and +all above, three pence per pound. Performed by Benjamin Kingman, +Henry Harrison, and Waller Baynes.—<i>Placard, preserved in the +coffee-room, of the Black Swan Inn at York.</i></p></div> + + +<p>The night had hitherto been balmy and beautiful, with a +bright array of stars, and a golden harvest moon, which seemed +to diffuse even warmth with its radiance; but now Turpin was +approaching the region of fog and fen, and he began to feel +the influence of that dank atmosphere. The intersecting +dykes, yawners, gullies, or whatever they are called, began to +send forth their steaming vapors, and chilled the soft and +wholesome air, obscuring the void, and in some instances, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[396]</a></span> +it were, choking up the road itself with vapor. But fog or fen +was the same to Bess; her hoofs rattled merrily along the road, +and she burst from a cloud, like Eöus at the break of dawn.</p> + +<p>It chanced, as he issued from a fog of this kind, that Turpin +burst upon the York stage coach. It was no uncommon thing +for the coach to be stopped; and so furious was the career of +our highwayman, that the man involuntarily drew up his horses. +Turpin had also to draw in the rein, a task of no little difficulty, +as charging a huge, lumbering coach, with its full complement +of passengers, was more than even Bess could accomplish. +The moon shone brightly on Turpin and his mare. He was +unmasked, and his features were distinctly visible. An exclamation +was uttered by a gentleman on the box, who, it +appeared, instantly recognized him.</p> + +<p>"Pull up—draw your horses across the road!" cried the +gentleman; "that's Dick Turpin, the highwayman. His capture +would be worth three hundred pounds to you," added he, +addressing the coachman, "and is of equal importance to me. +Stand!" shouted he, presenting a cocked pistol.</p> + +<p>This resolution of the gentleman was not apparently agreeable, +either to the coachman or the majority of the passengers—the +name of Turpin acting like magic upon them. One man +jumped off behind, and was with difficulty afterwards recovered, +having tumbled into a deep ditch at the roadside. An old +gentleman with a cotton nightcap, who had popped out his +head to swear at the coachman, drew it suddenly back. A +faint scream in a female key issued from within, and there was +a considerable hubbub on the roof. Amongst other ominous +sounds, the guard was heard to click his long horse-pistols. +"Stop the York four-day stage!" said he, forcing his smoky +voice through a world of throat-embracing shawl; "the fastest +coach in the kingdom: vos ever such atrocity heard of? I +say, Joe, keep them ere leaders steady; we shall all be in the +ditch. Don't you see where the hind wheels are? Who—whoop, +I say."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[397]</a></span></p> + +<p>The gentleman on the box now discharged his pistol, and +the confusion within was redoubled. The white nightcap was +popped out like a rabbit's head, and as quickly popped back +on hearing the highwayman's voice. Owing to the plunging +of the horses, the gentleman had missed his aim.</p> + +<p>Prepared for such emergencies as the present, and seldom +at any time taken aback, Dick received the fire without flinching. +He then lashed the horses out of his course, and rode +up, pistol in hand, to the gentleman who had fired.</p> + +<p>"Major Mowbray," said he, in a stern tone, "I know you. +I meant not either to assault you or these gentlemen. Yet +you have attempted my life, sir, a second time. But you are +now in my power, and by hell! if you do not answer the +questions I put to you, nothing earthly shall save you."</p> + +<p>"If you ask aught I may not answer, fire!" said the major; +"I will never ask life from such as you."</p> + +<p>"Have you seen aught of Sir Luke Rookwood?" asked +Dick.</p> + +<p>"The villain you mean is not yet secured," replied the +major, "but we have traces of him. 'Tis with a view of procuring +more efficient assistance that I ride to town."</p> + +<p>"They have not met then, since?" said Dick, carelessly.</p> + +<p>"Met! whom do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Your sister and Sir Luke," said Dick.</p> + +<p>"My sister meet him!" cried the major, angrily—"think +you he dares show himself at Rookwood?"</p> + +<p>"Ho! ho!" laughed Dick—"she <i>is</i> at Rookwood, then? +A thousand thanks, major. Good night to you, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"Take that with you, and remember the guard," cried the +fellow, who, unable to take aim from where he sat, had crept +along the coach roof, and discharged thence one of his large +horse-pistols at what he took to be the highwayman's head, but +which, luckily for Dick, was his hat, which he had raised to +salute the passengers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[398]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Remember you," said Dick, coolly replacing his perforated +beaver on his brow; "you may rely upon it, my fine fellow, +I'll not forget you the next time we meet."</p> + +<p>And off he went like the breath of the whirlwind.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII4" id="CHAPTER_VIII4"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>ROADSIDE INN</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Moor.</i> Take my horse, and dash a bottle of wine over him. 'Twas +hot work.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Schiller</span>: <i>The Robbers</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>We will now make inquiries after Mr. Coates and his party, +of whom both we and Dick Turpin have for some time lost +sight. With unabated ardor the vindictive man of law and his +myrmidons pressed forward. A tacit compact seemed to have +been entered into between the highwayman and his pursuers, +that he was to fly while they were to follow. Like bloodhounds, +they kept steadily upon his trail; nor were they so +far behind as Dick imagined. At each post-house they passed +they obtained fresh horses, and, while these were saddling, a +postboy was despatched <i>en courrier</i> to order relays at the next +station. In this manner they proceeded after the first stoppage +without interruption. Horses were in waiting for them, +as they, "bloody with spurring, fiery hot with haste," and their +jaded hacks arrived. Turpin had been heard or seen in all +quarters. Turnpike-men, waggoners, carters, trampers, all had +seen him. Besides, strange as it may sound, they placed some +faith in his word. York they believed would be his destination.</p> + +<p>At length the coach which Dick had encountered hove in +sight. There was another stoppage and another hubbub. The +old gentleman's nightcap was again manifested, and suffered a +sudden occultation, as upon the former occasion. The postboy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[399]</a></span> +who was in advance, had halted, and given up his horse +to Major Mowbray, who exchanged his seat on the box for one +on the saddle, deeming it more expedient, after his interview +with Turpin, to return to Rookwood, rather than to proceed +to town. The postboy was placed behind Coates, as being +the lightest weight; and, thus reinforced, the party pushed +forward as rapidly as heretofore.</p> + +<p>Eighty and odd miles had now been traversed—the boundary +of another county, Northampton, passed; yet no rest nor +respite had Dick Turpin or his unflinching mare enjoyed. But +here he deemed it fitting to make a brief halt.</p> + +<p>Bordering the beautiful domains of Burleigh House stood a +little retired hostelry of some antiquity, which bore the great +Lord Treasurer's arms. With this house Dick was not altogether +unacquainted. The lad who acted as ostler was known +to him. It was now midnight, but a bright and beaming +night. To the door of the stable then did he ride, and +knocked in a peculiar manner. Reconnoitering Dick through +a broken pane of glass in the lintel, and apparently satisfied +with his scrutiny, the lad thrust forth a head of hair as full of +straw as Mad Tom's is represented to be upon the stage. A +chuckle of welcome followed his sleepy salutation. "Glad to +see you, Captain Turpin," said he; "can I do anything for +you?"</p> + +<p>"Get me a couple of bottles of brandy and a beefsteak," +said Dick.</p> + +<p>"As to the brandy, you can have that in a jiffy—but the +steak, Lord love you, the old ooman won't stand it at this +time; but there's a cold round, mayhap a slice of that might +do—or a knuckle of ham?"</p> + +<p>"A pest on your knuckles, Ralph," cried Dick; "have you +any raw meat in the house?"</p> + +<p>"Raw meat!" echoed Ralph, in surprise. "Oh, yes, +there's a rare rump of beef. You can have a cut off that, if +you like."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[400]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's the thing I want," said Dick, ungirthing his mare. +"Give me the scraper. There, I can get a whisp of straw +from your head. Now run and get the brandy. Better bring +three bottles. Uncork 'em, and let me have half a pail of +water to mix with the spirit."</p> + +<p>"A pail full of brandy and water to wash down a raw steak! +My eyes!" exclaimed Ralph, opening wide his sleepy peepers; +adding, as he went about the execution of his task, "I +always thought them Rum-padders, as they call themselves, +rum fellows, but now I'm sartin sure on it."</p> + +<p>The most sedulous groom could not have bestowed more +attention upon the horse of his heart than Dick Turpin now +paid to his mare. He scraped, chafed, and dried her, sounded +each muscle, traced each sinew, pulled her ears, examined the +state of her feet, and, ascertaining that her "withers were un-wrung," +finally washed her from head to foot in the diluted +spirit, not, however, before he had conveyed a thimbleful of +the liquid to his own parched throat, and replenished what +Falstaff calls a "pocket-pistol," which he had about him. +While Ralph was engaged in rubbing her down after her bath, +Dick occupied himself, not in dressing the raw steak in the +manner the stable-boy had anticipated, but in rolling it round +the bit of his bridle.</p> + +<p>"She will now go as long as there's breath in her body," +said he, putting the flesh-covered iron within her mouth.</p> + +<p>The saddle being once more replaced, after champing a +moment or two at the bit, Bess began to snort and paw the +earth, as if impatient of delay; and, acquainted as he was with +her indomitable spirit and power, her condition was a surprise +even to Dick himself. Her vigor seemed inexhaustible, her +vivacity was not a whit diminished, but, as she was led into +the open space, her step became as light and free as when +she started on her ride, and her sense of sound as quick as +ever. Suddenly she pricked her ears, and uttered a low neigh. +A dull tramp was audible.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[401]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ha!" exclaimed Dick, springing into his saddle; "they +come."</p> + +<p>"Who come, captain?" asked Ralph.</p> + +<p>"The road takes a turn here, don't it?" asked Dick—"sweeps +round to the right by the plantations in the hollow?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, captain," answered Ralph; "it's plain you knows +the ground."</p> + +<p>"What lies behind yon shed?"</p> + +<p>"A stiff fence, captain—a reg'lar rasper. Beyond that a +hill-side steep as a house, no oss as was ever shoed can go +down it."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" laughed Dick.</p> + +<p>A loud halloo from Major Mowbray, who seemed advancing +upon the wings of the wind, told Dick that he was discovered. +The major was a superb horseman, and took the lead of his +party. Striking his spurs deeply into his horse, and giving him +bridle enough, the major seemed to shoot forward like a shell +through the air. The Burleigh Arms retired some hundred +yards from the road, the space in front being occupied by a +neat garden, with low, clipped edges. No tall timber intervened +between Dick and his pursuers, so that the motions of +both parties were visible to each other. Dick saw in an instant +that if he now started he should come into collision with +the major exactly at the angle of the road, and he was by no +means desirous of hazarding such a rencontre. He looked +wistfully back at the double fence.</p> + +<p>"Come into the stable. Quick, captain, quick!" exclaimed +Ralph.</p> + +<p>"The stable!" echoed Dick, hesitating.</p> + +<p>"Ay, the stable; it's your only chance. Don't you see he's +turning the corner, and they are all coming? Quick, sir, +quick!"</p> + +<p>Dick, lowering his head, rode into the tenement, the door +of which was unceremoniously slapped in the major's face, and +bolted on the other side.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[402]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Villain!" cried Major Mowbray, thundering at the door, +"come forth! You are now fairly trapped at last—caught like +the woodcock in your own springe. We have you. Open the +door, I say, and save us the trouble of forcing it. You cannot +escape us. We will burn the building down but we will have +you."</p> + +<p>"What dun you want, measter?" cried Ralph, from the +lintel, whence he reconnoitered the major, and kept the door +fast. "You're clean mista'en. There be none here."</p> + +<p>"We'll soon see that," said Paterson, who had now arrived; +and, leaping from his horse, the chief constable took a short +run to give himself impetus, and with his foot burst open the +door. This being accomplished, in dashed the major and +Paterson, but the stable was vacant. A door was open at the +back; they rushed to it. The sharply sloping sides of a hill +slipped abruptly downwards, within a yard of the door. It +was a perilous descent to the horseman, yet the print of a +horse's heels were visible in the dislodged turf and scattered +soil.</p> + +<p>"Confusion!" cried the major, "he has escaped us."</p> + +<p>"He is yonder," said Paterson, pointing out Turpin moving +swiftly through the steaming meadow. "See, he makes +again for the road—he clears the fence. A regular throw he +has given us, by the Lord!"</p> + +<p>"Nobly done, by Heaven!" cried the major. "With all +his faults, I honor the fellow's courage and admire his prowess. +He's already ridden to-night as I believe never man rode before. +I would not have ventured to slide down that wall, for +it's nothing else, with the enemy at my heels. What say you, +gentlemen, have you had enough? Shall we let him go, +or——?"</p> + +<p>"As far as chase goes, I don't care if we bring the matter to +a conclusion," said Titus. "I don't think, as it is, that I +shall have a sate to sit on this week to come. I've lost leather +most confoundedly."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[403]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What says Mr. Coates?" asked Paterson. "I look to +him."</p> + +<p>"Then mount, and off," cried Coates. "Public duty requires +that we should take him."</p> + +<p>"And private pique," returned the major. "No matter! +The end is the same. Justice shall be satisfied. To your +steeds, my merry men all. Hark, and away."</p> + +<p>Once more upon the move, Titus forgot his distress, and addressed +himself to the attorney, by whose side he rode.</p> + +<p>"What place is that we're coming to?" asked he, pointing +to a cluster of moonlit spires belonging to a town they were +rapidly approaching.</p> + +<p>"Stamford," replied Coates.</p> + +<p>"Stamford!" exclaimed Titus; "by the powers! then we've +ridden a matter of ninety miles. Why, the great deeds of +Redmond O'Hanlon were nothing to this! I'll remember it +to my dying day, and with reason," added he, uneasily shifting +his position on the saddle.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX4" id="CHAPTER_IX4"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>EXCITEMENT</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How fled what moonshine faintly showed!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How fled what darkness hid!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How fled the earth beneath their feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The heaven above their head.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>William and Helen.</i></p></div> + + +<p>Dick Turpin, meanwhile, held bravely on his course. Bess +was neither strained by her gliding passage down the slippery +hill-side nor shaken by <i>larking</i> the fence in the meadow. As +Dick said, "It took a devilish deal to take it out of her." On +regaining the high road she resumed her old pace, and once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[404]</a></span> +more they were distancing Time's swift chariot in its whirling +passage o'er the earth. Stamford, and the tongue of Lincoln's +fenny shire, upon which it is situated, were passed almost in a +breath. Rutland is won and passed, and Lincolnshire once +more entered. The road now verged within a bowshot of that +sporting Athens—Corinth, perhaps, we should say—Melton +Mowbray. Melton was then unknown to fame, but, as if inspired +by that <i>furor venaticus</i> which now inspires all who come +within twenty miles of this Charybdis of the chase, Bess here <i>let +out</i> in a style with which it would have puzzled the best Leicestershire +squire's best prad to have kept pace. The spirit she imbibed +through the pores of her skin, and the juices of the meat +she had champed, seemed to have communicated preternatural +excitement to her. Her pace was absolutely terrific. Her +eyeballs were dilated, and glowed like flaming carbuncles; +while her widely-distended nostril seemed, in the cold moonshine, +to snort forth smoke, as from a hidden fire. Fain +would Turpin have controlled her; but, without bringing into +play all his tremendous nerve, no check could be given her +headlong course, and for once, and the only time in her submissive +career, Bess resolved to have her own way—and she +had it. Like a sensible fellow, Dick conceded the point. +There was something even of conjugal philosophy in his self-communion +upon the occasion. "E'en let her take her own +way and be hanged to her, for an obstinate, self-willed jade as +she is," said he: "now her back is up there'll be no stopping +her, I'm sure: she rattles away like a woman's tongue, and +when that once begins, we all know what chance the curb has. +Best to let her have it out, or rather to lend her a lift. 'Twill +be over the sooner. Tantivy, lass! tantivy! I know which +of us will tire first."</p> + +<p>We have before said that the vehement excitement of continued +swift riding produces a paroxysm in the sensorium +amounting to delirium. Dick's blood was again on fire. He +was first giddy, as after a deep draught of kindling spirit; this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[405]</a></span> +passed off, but the spirit was still in his veins—the <i>estro</i> was +working in his brain. All his ardor, his eagerness, his fury, +returned. He rode like one insane, and his courser partook of +his frenzy. She bounded; she leaped; she tore up the ground +beneath her; while Dick gave vent to his exultation in one +wild, prolonged halloo. More than half his race is run. He +has triumphed over every difficulty. He will have no further +occasion to halt. Bess carries her forage along with her. The +course is straightforward—success seems certain—the goal +already reached—the path of glory won. Another wild halloo, +to which the echoing woods reply, and away!</p> + +<p>Away! away! thou matchless steed! yet brace fast thy +sinews—hold, hold thy breath, for, alas! the goal is not yet +attained!</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 17em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But forward! forward, on they go,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">High snorts the straining steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thick pants the rider's laboring breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As headlong on they speed!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X4" id="CHAPTER_X4"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>THE GIBBET</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See there, see there, what yonder swings<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And creaks 'mid whistling rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gibbet and steel—the accursed wheel—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A murderer in his chain.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>William and Helen.</i></p></div> + + +<p>As the eddying currents sweep over its plains in howling, +bleak December, the horse and her rider passed over what remained +of Lincolnshire. Grantham is gone, and they are now +more slowly looking up the ascent of Gonerby Hill, a path well +known to Turpin; where often, in bygone nights, many a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[406]</a></span> +purse had changed its owner. With that feeling of independence +and exhilaration which every one feels, we believe, on +having climbed the hill-side, Turpin turned to gaze around. +There was triumph in his eye. But the triumph was checked +as his glance fell upon a gibbet near him to the right, on the +round point of hill which is a landmark to the wide vale of +Belvoir. Pressed as he was for time, Dick immediately struck +out of the road, and approached the spot where it stood. Two +scarecrow objects, covered with rags and rusty links of chains, +depended from the tree. A night crow screaming around the +carcases added to the hideous effect of the scene. Nothing +but the living highwayman and his skeleton brethren was visible +upon the solitary spot. Around him was the lonesome +waste of hill, o'erlooking the moonlit valley: beneath his feet, +a patch of bare and lightning-blasted sod: above, the wan, +declining moon and skies, flaked with ghostly clouds; before +him, the bleached bodies of the murderers, for such they were.</p> + +<p>"Will this be my lot, I marvel?" said Dick, looking upwards, +with an involuntary shudder.</p> + +<p>"Ay, marry will it," rejoined a crouching figure, suddenly +springing from beside a tuft of briars that skirted the blasted +ground.</p> + +<p>Dick started in his saddle, while Bess reared and plunged at +the sight of this unexpected apparition.</p> + +<p>"What, ho! thou devil's dam, Barbara, is it thou?" exclaimed +Dick, reassured upon discovering it was the gipsy +queen, and no spectre whom he beheld. "Stand still, Bess—stand, +lass. What dost thou here, mother of darkness? Art +gathering mandrakes for thy poisonous messes, or pilfering +flesh from the dead? Meddle not with their bones, or I will +drive thee hence. What dost thou here, I say, old dam of the +gibbet?"</p> + +<p>"I came to die here," replied Barbara, in a feeble tone; +and, throwing back her hood, she displayed features well-nigh +as ghastly as those of the skeletons above her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[407]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Indeed," replied Dick. "You've made choice of a pleasant +spot, it must be owned. But you'll not die yet?"</p> + +<p>"Do you know whose bodies these are?" asked Barbara, +pointing upwards.</p> + +<p>"Two of your race," replied Dick; "right brethren of the +blade."</p> + +<p>"Two of my sons," returned Barbara; "my twin children. +I am come to lay my bones beneath their bones—my sepulchre +shall be their sepulchre; my body shall feed the fowls of +the air as theirs have fed them. And if ghosts can walk, we'll +scour this heath together. I tell you what, Dick Turpin," +said the hag, drawing as near to the highwayman as Bess would +permit her; "dead men walk and ride—ay, <i>ride</i>!—there's +a comfort for you. I've seen these do it. I have seen them +fling off their chains, and dance—ay, dance with me—with +their mother. No revels like dead men's revels, Dick. I +shall soon join 'em."</p> + +<p>"You will not lay violent hands upon yourself, mother?" +said Dick, with difficulty mastering his terror.</p> + +<p>"No," replied Barbara, in an altered tone. "But I will let +nature do her task. Would she could do it more quickly. +Such a life as mine won't go out without a long struggle. What +have I to live for now? All are gone—she and her child! +But what is this to you? You have no child; and if you had, +you could not feel like a father. No matter—I rave. Listen +to me. I have crawled hither to die. 'Tis five days since I +beheld you, and during that time food has not passed these +lips, nor aught of moisture, save Heaven's dew, cooled this +parched throat, nor shall they to the last. That time cannot +be far off; and now can you not guess <i>how</i> I mean to die? +Begone and leave me; your presence troubles me. I would +breathe my last breath alone, with none to witness the parting +pang."</p> + +<p>"I will not trouble you longer, mother," said Dick, turning +his mare; "nor will I ask your blessing."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[408]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My blessing!" scornfully ejaculated Barbara. "You shall +have it if you will, but you will find it a curse. Stay! a +thought strikes me. Whither are you going?"</p> + +<p>"To seek Sir Luke Rookwood," replied Dick. "Know you +aught of him?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Luke Rookwood! You seek him, and would find +him?" screamed Barbara.</p> + +<p>"I would," said Dick.</p> + +<p>"And you <i>will</i> find him," said Barbara; "and that ere long. +I shall ne'er again behold him. Would I could. I have a +message for him—one of life and death. Will you convey it +to him?"</p> + +<p>"I will," said the highwayman.</p> + +<p>"Swear by those bones to do so," cried Barbara, pointing +with her skinny fingers to the gibbet; "that you will do my +bidding."</p> + +<p>"I swear," cried Dick.</p> + +<p>"Fail not, or <i>we</i> will haunt thee to thy life's end," cried Barbara; +adding, as she handed a sealed package to the highwayman, +"Give this to Sir Luke—to him alone. I would have sent +it to him by other hands ere this, but my people have deserted +me—have pillaged my stores—have rifled me of all save this. +Give this, I say, to Sir Luke, with your own hands. You have +sworn it, and will obey. Give it to him, and bid him think of +Sybil as he opens it. But this must not be till Eleanor is in +his power; and she must be present when the seal is broken. +It relates to both. Dare not to tamper with it, or my curse +shall pursue you. That packet is guarded with a triple spell, +which to you were fatal. Obey me, and my dying breath +shall bless thee."</p> + +<p>"Never fear," said Dick, taking the packet; "I'll not disappoint +you, mother, depend upon it."</p> + +<p>"Hence!" cried the crone; and as she watched Dick's +figure lessening upon the Waste, and at length beheld him +finally disappear down the hill-side, she sank to the ground,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[409]</a></span> +her frail strength being entirely exhausted. "Body and +soul may now part in peace," gasped she. "All I live for +is accomplished." And ere one hour had elapsed, the night +crow was perched upon her still breathing frame.</p> + +<p>Long pondering upon this singular interview, Dick pursued +his way. At length he thought fit to examine the packet with +which the old gipsy had entrusted him.</p> + +<p>"It feels like a casket," thought he. "It can't be gold. But +then it may be jewels, though they don't rattle, and it ain't +quite heavy enough. What can it be? I should like to know. +There is some mystery, that's certain, about it; but I will not +break the seal, not I. As to her spell, that I don't value a +rush; but I've sworn to give it to Sir Luke, and deliver her +message, and I'll keep my word if I can. He shall have it." +So saying, he replaced it in his pocket.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI4" id="CHAPTER_XI4"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>THE PHANTOM STEED</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 20em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'll speak to thee, though hell itself should gape,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bid me hold my peace.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Hamlet.</i></p></div> + + +<p>Time presses. We may not linger in our course. We must +fly on before our flying highwayman. Full forty miles shall +we pass over in a breath. Two more hours have elapsed, and +he still urges his headlong career, with heart resolute as ever, +and purpose yet unchanged. Fair Newark, and the dashing +Trent, "most loved of England's streams," are gathered to his +laurels. Broad Notts, and its heavy paths and sweeping +glades; its waste—forest no more—of Sherwood past; bold +Robin Hood and his merry men, his Marian and his moonlight +rides, recalled, forgotten, left behind. Hurrah! hurrah! That +wild halloo, that waving arm, that enlivening shout—what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[410]</a></span> +means it? He is once more upon Yorkshire ground; his +horse's hoof beats once more the soil of that noble shire. So +transported was Dick, that he could almost have flung himself +from the saddle to kiss the dust beneath his feet. Thrice fifty +miles has he run, nor has the morn yet dawned upon his +labors. Hurrah! the end draws nigh; the goal is in view. +Halloo! halloo! on!</p> + +<p>Bawtrey is past. He takes the lower road by Thorne and +Selby. He is skirting the waters of the deep-channelled Don.</p> + +<p>Bess now began to manifest some slight symptoms of distress. +There was a strain in the carriage of her throat, a +dulness in her eye, a laxity in her ear, and a slight stagger in +her gait, which Turpin noticed with apprehension. Still she +went on, though not at the same gallant pace as heretofore. +But, as the tired bird still battles with the blast upon the +ocean, as the swimmer still stems the stream, though spent, on +went she: nor did Turpin dare to check her, fearing that, if +she stopped, she might lose her force, or, if she fell, she would +rise no more.</p> + +<p>It was now that gray and grimly hour ere one flicker of +orange or rose has gemmed the east, and when unwearying +Nature herself seems to snatch brief repose. In the roar of +restless cities, this is the only time when their strife is hushed. +Midnight is awake—alive; the streets ring with laughter and +with rattling wheels. At the third hour, a dead, deep silence +prevails; the loud-voiced streets grow dumb. They are deserted +of all, save the few guardians of the night and the +skulking robber. But even far removed from the haunts +of men and hum of towns it is the same. "Nature's best +nurse" seems to weigh nature down, and stillness reigns +throughout. Our feelings are, in a great measure, influenced +by the hour. Exposed to the raw, crude atmosphere, which +has neither the nipping, wholesome shrewdness of morn, nor +the profound chillness of night, the frame vainly struggles +against the dull, miserable sensations engendered by the damps,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[411]</a></span> +and at once communicates them to the spirits. Hope forsakes +us. We are weary, exhausted. Our energy is dispirited. +Sleep does "not weigh our eyelids down." We stare upon the +vacancy. We conjure up a thousand restless, disheartening +images. We abandon projects we have formed, and which, +viewed through this medium, appear fantastical, chimerical, +absurd. We want rest, refreshment, energy.</p> + +<p>We will not say that Turpin had all these misgivings. But +he had to struggle hard with himself to set sleep and exhaustion +at defiance.</p> + +<p>The moon had set. The stars,</p> + +<p class="hd4">Pinnacled deep in the intense main,</p> + +<p>had all—save one, the herald of the dawn—withdrawn their +luster. A dull mist lay on the stream, and the air became +piercing cold. Turpin's chilled fingers could scarcely grasp +the slackening rein, while his eyes, irritated by the keen atmosphere, +hardly enabled him to distinguish surrounding objects, +or even to guide his steed. It was owing, probably, to this +latter circumstance, that Bess suddenly floundered and fell, +throwing her master over her head.</p> + +<p>Turpin instantly recovered himself. His first thought was +for his horse. But Bess was instantly upon her legs—covered +with dust and foam, sides and cheeks—and with her large +eyes glaring wildly, almost piteously, upon her master.</p> + +<p>"Art hurt, lass?" asked Dick, as she shook herself, and +slightly shivered. And he proceeded to the horseman's scrutiny. +"Nothing but a shake; though that dull eye—those +quivering flanks——" added he, looking earnestly at her. +"She won't go much further, and I must give it up—what! +give up the race just when it's won? No, that can't be. Ha! +well thought on. I've a bottle of liquid, given me by an old +fellow, who was a knowing cove and famous jockey in his day, +which he swore would make a horse go as long as he'd a leg<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[412]</a></span> +to carry him, and bade me keep it for some great occasion. +I've never used it; but I'll try it now. It should be in this +pocket. Ah! Bess, wench, I fear I'm using thee, after all, as +Sir Luke did his mistress, that I thought so like thee. No +matter! It will be a glorious end."</p> + +<p>Raising her head upon his shoulder, Dick poured the contents +of the bottle down the throat of his mare. Nor had he +to wait long before its invigorating effects were instantaneous. +The fire was kindled in the glassy orb; her crest was once +more erected; her flank ceased to quiver; and she neighed +loud and joyously.</p> + +<p>"Egad, the old fellow was right," cried Dick. "The drink +has worked wonders. What the devil could it have been? It +smells like spirit," added he, examining the bottle. "I +wish I'd left a taste for myself. But here's that will do +as well." And he drained his flask of the last drop of +brandy.</p> + +<p>Dick's limbs were now become so excessively stiff, that it +was with difficulty he could remount his horse. But this +necessary preliminary being achieved by the help of a stile, he +found no difficulty in resuming his accustomed position upon +the saddle. We know not whether there was any likeness +between our Turpin and that modern Hercules of the sporting +world, Mr. Osbaldeston. Far be it from us to institute any +comparison, though we cannot help thinking that, in one particular, +he resembled that famous "copper-bottomed" squire. +This we will leave to our reader's discrimination. Dick bore +his fatigues wonderfully. He suffered somewhat of that martyrdom +which, according to Tom Moore, occurs "to weavers +and M. P.'s, from sitting too long;" but again on his courser's +back, he cared not for anything.</p> + +<p>Once more, at a gallant pace, he traversed the banks of the +Don, skirting the fields of flax that bound its sides, and hurried +far more swiftly than its current to its confluence with the +Aire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[413]</a></span></p> + +<p>Snaith was past. He was on the road to Selby when dawn +first began to break. Here and there a twitter was heard in +the hedge; a hare ran across his path, gray-looking as the +morning self; and the mists began to rise from the earth. A +bar of gold was drawn against the east, like the roof of a gorgeous +palace. But the mists were heavy in this world of +rivers and their tributary streams. The Ouse was before him, +the Trent and Aire behind; the Don and Derwent on either +hand, all in their way to commingle their currents ere they +formed the giant Humber. Amid a region so prodigal of +water, no wonder the dews fell thick as rain. Here and there +the ground was clear; but then again came a volley of vapor, +dim and palpable as smoke.</p> + +<p>While involved in one of these fogs, Turpin became aware +of another horseman by his side. It was impossible to discern +the features of the rider, but his figure in the mist seemed +gigantic; neither was the color of his steed distinguishable. +Nothing was visible except the meagre-looking, phantom-like +outline of a horse and his rider, and, as the unknown rode +upon the turf that edged the way, even the sound of the +horse's hoofs was scarcely audible. Turpin gazed, not without +superstitious awe. Once or twice he essayed to address +the strange horseman, but his tongue clave to the roof of his +mouth. He fancied he discovered in the mist-exaggerated +lineaments of the stranger a wild and fantastic resemblance to +his friend Tom King. "It must be Tom," thought Turpin; +"he is come to warn me of my approaching end. I will speak +to him."</p> + +<p>But terror o'ermastered his speech. He could not force +out a word, and thus side by side they rode in silence. Quaking +with fears he would scarcely acknowledge to himself, Dick +watched every motion of his companion. He was still, stern, +spectre-like, erect; and looked for all the world like a demon +on his phantom steed. His courser seemed, in the indistinct +outline, to be huge and bony, and, as he snorted furiously in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[414]</a></span> +the fog, Dick's heated imagination supplied his breath with a +due proportion of flame. Not a word was spoken—not a +sound heard, save the sullen dead beat of his hoofs upon the +grass. It was intolerable to ride thus cheek by jowl with a +goblin. Dick could stand it no longer. He put spurs to his +horse, and endeavored to escape. But it might not be. The +stranger, apparently without effort, was still by his side, and +Bess's feet, in her master's apprehensions, were nailed to the +ground. By-and-by, however, the atmosphere became clearer. +Bright quivering beams burst through the vaporous shroud, +and then it was that Dick discovered that the apparition of +Tom King was no other than Luke Rookwood. He was +mounted on his old horse, Rook, and looked grim and haggard +as a ghost vanishing at the crowing of the cock.</p> + +<p>"Sir Luke Rookwood, by this light!" exclaimed Dick, in +astonishment. "Why, I took you for——"</p> + +<p>"The devil, no doubt?" returned Luke, smiling sternly, +"and were sorry to find yourself so hard pressed. Don't disquiet +yourself; I am still flesh and blood."</p> + +<p>"Had I taken you for one of mortal mould," said Dick, +"you should have soon seen where I'd have put you in the +race. That confounded fog deceived me, and Bess acted the +fool as well as myself. However, now I know you, Sir Luke, +you must spur alongside, for the hawks are on the wing; and +though I've much to say, I've not a second to lose." And +Dick briefly detailed the particulars of his ride, concluding +with his rencontre with Barbara. "Here's the packet," said +he, "just as I got it. You must keep it till the proper moment. +And here," added he, fumbling in his pocket for another +paper, "is the marriage document. You are now your father's +lawful son, let who will say you nay. Take it and welcome. +If you are ever master of Miss Mowbray's hand, you will not +forget Dick Turpin."</p> + +<p>"I will not," said Luke, eagerly grasping the certificate; +"but she never may be mine."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[415]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You have her oath?"</p> + +<p>"I have."</p> + +<p>"What more is needed?"</p> + +<p>"Her hand."</p> + +<p>"That will follow."</p> + +<p>"It <i>shall</i> follow," replied Sir Luke, wildly. "You are right. +She is my affianced bride—affianced before hell, if not before +heaven. I have sealed the contract with blood—with Sybil's +blood—and it shall be fulfilled. I have her oath—her oath—ha, +ha! Though I perish in the attempt, I will wrest her from +Ranulph's grasp. She shall never be his. I would stab her +first. Twice have I failed in my endeavors to bear her off. I +am from Rookwood even now. To-morrow night I shall renew +the attack. Will you assist me?"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow night!" interrupted Dick.</p> + +<p>"Nay, I should say to-night. A new day has already +dawned," replied Luke.</p> + +<p>"I will: she is at Rookwood?"</p> + +<p>"She languishes there at present, attended by her mother +and her lover. The hall is watched and guarded. Ranulph +is ever on the alert. But we will storm their garrison. I have +a spy within its walls—a gipsy girl, faithful to my interests. +From her I have learnt that there is a plot to wed Eleanor to +Ranulph, and that the marriage is to take place privately to-morrow. +This must be prevented."</p> + +<p>"It must. But why not boldly appear in person at the +hall, and claim her?"</p> + +<p>"Why not? I am a proscribed felon. A price is set upon +my head. I am hunted through the country—driven to concealment, +and dare not show myself for fear of capture. What +could I do now? They would load me with fetters, bury me +in a dungeon, and wed Eleanor to Ranulph. What would my +rights avail? What would her oath signify to them? No; she +must be mine by force. <i>His</i> she shall never be. Again, I +ask you, will you aid me?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[416]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I have said—I will. Where is Alan Rookwood?"</p> + +<p>"Concealed within the hut on Thorne Waste. You know +it—it was one of your haunts."</p> + +<p>"I know it well," said Dick, "and Conkey Jem, its keeper, +into the bargain: he is a knowing file. I'll join you at the +hut at midnight, if all goes well. We'll bring off the wench, +in spite of them all—just the thing I like. But in case of a +break-down on my part, suppose you take charge of my purse +in the mean time."</p> + +<p>Luke would have declined this offer.</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" said Dick. "Who knows what may happen? +and it's not ill-lined either. You'll find an odd hundred or +so in that silken bag—it's not often your highwayman gives +away a purse. Take it, man—we'll settle all to-night; and if +I don't come, keep it—it will help you to your bride. And +now off with you to the hut, for you are only hindering me. +Adieu! My love to old Alan. We'll do the trick to-night. +Away with you to the hut. Keep yourself snug there till midnight, +and we'll ride over to Rookwood."</p> + +<p>"At midnight," replied Sir Luke, wheeling off, "I shall +expect you."</p> + +<p>"'Ware hawks!" hallooed Dick.</p> + +<p>But Luke had vanished. In another instant Dick was +scouring the plain as rapidly as ever. In the mean time, as +Dick has casually alluded to the hawks, it may not be amiss to +inquire how they had flown throughout the night, and whether +they were still in chase of their quarry.</p> + +<p>With the exception of Titus, who was completely done up +at Grantham, "having got," as he said, "a complete bellyful +of it," they were still on the wing, and resolved sooner or later +to pounce upon their prey, pursuing the same system as heretofore +in regard to the post-horses. Major Mowbray and Paterson +took the lead, but the irascible and invincible attorney +was not far in their rear, his wrath having been by no means +allayed by the fatigue he had undergone. At Bawtrey they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[417]</a></span> +held a council of war for a few minutes, being doubtful which +course he had taken. Their incertitude was relieved by a foot +traveller, who had heard Dick's loud halloo on passing the +boundary of Nottinghamshire, and had seen him take the +lower road. They struck, therefore, into the path at Thorne +at a hazard, and were soon satisfied they were right. Furiously +did they now spur on. They reached Selby, changed horses +at the inn in front of the venerable cathedral church, and +learnt from the postboy that a toilworn horseman, on a jaded +steed, had ridden through the town about five minutes before +them, and could not be more than a quarter of a mile in advance. +"His horse was so dead beat," said the lad, "that +I'm sure he cannot have got far; and, if you look sharp, I'll +be bound you'll overtake him before he reaches Cawood +Ferry."</p> + +<p>Mr. Coates was transported. "We'll lodge him snug in +York Castle before an hour, Paterson," cried he, rubbing his +hands.</p> + +<p>"I hope so, sir," said the chief constable, "but I begin to +have some qualms."</p> + +<p>"Now, gentlemen," shouted the postboy, "come along. I'll +soon bring you to him."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[418]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII4" id="CHAPTER_XII4"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>CAWOOD FERRY</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 16em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sight renewed my courser's feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A moment, staggering feebly fleet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A moment, with a faint low neigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He answered, and then fell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With gasps and glazing eyes he lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reeking limbs immovable,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His first, and last career was done.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Mazeppa.</i></p></div> + + +<p>The sun had just o'ertopped the "high eastern hill," as +Turpin reached the Ferry of Cawood, and his beams were reflected +upon the deep and sluggish waters of the Ouse. Wearily +had he dragged his course thither—wearily and slow. The +powers of his gallant steed were spent, and he could scarcely +keep her from sinking. It was now midway 'twixt the hours +of five and six. Nine miles only lay before him, and that +thought again revived him. He reached the water's edge, +and hailed the ferryboat, which was then on the other side of +the river. At that instant a loud shout smote his ear; it was +the halloo of his pursuers. Despair was in his look. He +shouted to the boatman, and bade him pull fast. The man +obeyed; but he had to breast a strong stream, and had a lazy +bark and heavy sculls to contend with. He had scarcely left +the shore when, another shout was raised from the pursuers. +The tramp of their steeds grew louder and louder.</p> + +<p>The boat had scarcely reached the middle of the stream. +His captors were at hand. Quietly did he walk down the +bank, and as cautiously enter the water. There was a plunge, +and steed and rider were swimming down the river.</p> + +<p>Major Mowbray was at the brink of the stream. He hesitated +an instant, and stemmed the tide. Seized, as it were,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[419]</a></span> +by a mania for equestrian distinction, Mr. Coates braved the +torrent. Not so Paterson. He very coolly took out his bulldogs, +and, watching Turpin, cast up in his own mind the <i>pros</i> +and <i>cons</i> of shooting him as he was crossing. "I could certainly +hit him," thought, or said, the constable; "but what of +that? A dead highwayman is worth nothing—alive, he <i>weighs</i> +300<i>l</i>. I won't shoot him, but I'll make a pretence." And +he fired accordingly.</p> + +<p>The shot skimmed over the water, but did not, as it was intended, +do much mischief. It, however, occasioned a mishap, +which had nearly proved fatal to our aquatic attorney. +Alarmed at the report of the pistol, in the nervous agitation of +the moment Coates drew in his rein so tightly that his steed +instantly sank. A moment or two afterwards he rose, shaking +his ears, and floundering heavily towards the shore; and such +was the chilling effect of this sudden immersion, that Mr. +Coates now thought much more of saving himself than of capturing +Turpin. Dick, meanwhile, had reached the opposite +bank, and, refreshed by her bath, Bess scrambled up the sides +of the stream, and speedily regained the road. "I shall do it +yet," shouted Dick; "that stream has saved her. Hark away, +lass! Hark away!"</p> + +<p>Bess heard the cheering cry, and she answered to the call. +She roused all her energies; strained every sinew, and put +forth all her remaining strength. Once more, on wings of +swiftness, she bore him away from his pursuers, and Major +Mowbray, who had now gained the shore, and made certain of +securing him, beheld him spring, like a wounded hare, from +beneath his very hand.</p> + +<p>"It cannot hold out," said the major; "it is but an expiring +flash; that gallant steed must soon drop."</p> + +<p>"She be regularly booked, that's certain," said the postboy.</p> + +<p>"We shall find her on the road."</p> + +<p>Contrary to all expectation, however, Bess held on, and set +pursuit at defiance. Her pace was swift as when she started.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[420]</a></span> +But it was unconscious and mechanical action. It wanted the +ease, the lightness, the life of her former riding. She seemed +screwed up to a task which she must execute. There was no +flogging, no gory heel; but the heart was throbbing, tugging +at the sides within. Her spirit spurred her onwards. Her +eye was glazing; her chest heaving; her flank quivering; +her crest again fallen. Yet she held on. "She is dying!" +said Dick. "I feel it——" No, she held on.</p> + +<p>Fulford is past. The towers and pinnacles of York burst +upon him in all the freshness, the beauty, and the glory of a +bright, clear, autumnal morn. The ancient city seemed to +smile a welcome—a greeting. The noble Minster and its +serene and massive pinnacles, crocketed, lantern-like, and +beautiful; St. Mary's lofty spire, All-Hallows Tower, the massive +mouldering walls of the adjacent postern, the grim castle, and +Clifford's neighboring keep—all beamed upon him, like a +bright-eyed face, that laughs out openly.</p> + +<p>"It is done—it is won," cried Dick. "Hurrah! hurrah!" +And the sunny air was cleft with his shouts.</p> + +<p>Bess was not insensible to her master's exultation. She +neighed feebly in answer to his call, and reeled forwards. It +was a piteous sight to see her,—to mark her staring, protruding +eyeball,—her shaking flanks; but, while life and limb held +together, she held on.</p> + +<p>Another mile is past. York is near.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" shouted Dick; but his voice was hushed. Bess +tottered—fell. There was a dreadful gasp—a parting moan—a +snort; her eye gazed, for an instant, upon her master, with a +dying glare; then grew glassy, rayless, fixed. A shiver ran +through her frame. Her heart had burst.</p> + +<p>Dick's eyes were blinded, as with rain. His triumph, though +achieved, was forgotten—his own safety was disregarded. He +stood weeping and swearing, like one beside himself.</p> + +<p>"And art thou gone, Bess?" cried he, in a voice of agony, +lifting up his courser's head, and kissing her lips, covered with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[421]</a></span> +blood-flecked foam. "Gone, gone! and I have killed the +best steed that was ever crossed! And for what?" added +Dick, beating his brow with his clenched hand—"for what? +for what?"</p> + +<p>At this moment the deep bell of the Minster clock tolled +out the hour of six.</p> + +<p>"I am answered," gasped Dick; "<i>it was to hear those +strokes</i>."</p> + +<p>Turpin was roused from the state of stupefaction into which +he had fallen by a smart slap on the shoulder. Recalled to +himself by the blow, he started at once to his feet, while his +hands sought his pistols: but he was spared the necessity of +using them, by discovering in the intruder the bearded visage +of the gipsy Balthazar. The patrico was habited in mendicant +weeds, and sustained a large wallet upon his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"So it's all over with the best mare in England, I see," said +Balthazar; "I can guess how it has happened—you are pursued?"</p> + +<p>"I am," said Dick, roughly.</p> + +<p>"Your pursuers are at hand?"</p> + +<p>"Within a few hundred yards."</p> + +<p>"Then, why stay here? Fly while you can."</p> + +<p>"Never—never," cried Turpin; "I'll fight it out here by +Bess's side. Poor lass! I've killed her—but she has done it—ha, +ha!—we have won—what?" And his utterance was +again choked.</p> + +<p>"Hark! I hear the tramp of horse, and shouts," cried the +patrico. "Take this wallet. You will find a change of dress +within it. Dart into that thick copse—save yourself."</p> + +<p>"But Bess—I cannot leave her," exclaimed Dick, with an +agonizing look at his horse.</p> + +<p>"And what did Bess die for, but to save you?" rejoined the +patrico.</p> + +<p>"True, true," said Dick; "but take care of her, don't let +those dogs of hell meddle with her carcase."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[422]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Away," cried the patrico, "leave Bess to me."</p> + +<p>Possessing himself of the wallet, Dick disappeared in the +adjoining copse.</p> + +<p>He had not been gone many seconds when Major Mowbray +rode up.</p> + +<p>"Who is this?" exclaimed the Major, flinging himself +from his horse, and seizing the patrico; "this is not +Turpin."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," replied Balthazar, coolly. "I am not exactly +the figure for a highwayman."</p> + +<p>"Where is he? What has become of him?" asked Coates, +in despair, as he and Paterson joined the major.</p> + +<p>"Escaped, I fear," replied the major. "Have you seen +any one, fellow?" added he, addressing the patrico.</p> + +<p>"I have seen no one," replied Balthazar. "I am only this +instant arrived. This dead horse lying in the road attracted +my attention."</p> + +<p>"Ha!" exclaimed Paterson, leaping from his steed, "this +may be Turpin after all. He has as many disguises as the +devil himself, and may have carried that goat's hair in his +pocket." Saying which, he seized the patrico by the beard, +and shook it with as little reverence as the Gaul handled the +hirsute chin of the Roman senator.</p> + +<p>"The devil! hands off," roared Balthazar. "By Salamon, +I won't stand such usage. Do you think a beard like mine is +the growth of a few minutes? Hands off! I say."</p> + +<p>"Regularly done!" said Paterson, removing his hold of the +patrico's chin, and looking as blank as a cartridge.</p> + +<p>"Ay," exclaimed Coates; "all owing to this worthless piece +of carrion. If it were not that I hope to see him dangling +from those walls"—pointing towards the Castle—"I should +wish her master were by her side now. To the dogs with +her." And he was about to spurn the breathless carcase of +poor Bess, when a sudden blow, dealt by the patrico's staff, +felled him to the ground.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[423]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll teach you to molest me," said Balthazar, about to +attack Paterson.</p> + +<p>"Come, come," said the discomfited chief constable, "no +more of this. It's plain we're in the wrong box. Every +bone in my body aches sufficiently without the aid of your +cudgel, old fellow. Come, Mr. Coates, take my arm, and +let's be moving. We've had an infernal long ride for +nothing."</p> + +<p>"Not so," replied Coates; "I've paid pretty dearly for it. +However, let us see if we can get any breakfast at the Bowling-green, +yonder; though I've already had my morning draught," +added the facetious man of law, looking at his dripping +apparel.</p> + +<p>"Poor Black Bess!" said Major Mowbray, wistfully regarding +the body of the mare, as it lay stretched at his feet. +"Thou deservedst a better fate, and a better master. In thee, +Dick Turpin has lost his best friend. His exploits will, henceforth, +want the coloring of romance, which thy unfailing energies +threw over them. Light lie the ground over thee, thou +matchless mare!"</p> + +<p>To the Bowling-green the party proceeded, leaving the patrico +in undisturbed possession of the lifeless body of Black +Bess. Major Mowbray ordered a substantial repast to be +prepared with all possible expedition.</p> + +<p>A countryman, in a smock-frock, was busily engaged at his +morning's meal.</p> + +<p>"To see that fellow bolt down his breakfast, one would think +he had fasted for a month," said Coates; "see the wholesome +effects of an honest, industrious life, Paterson. I envy him his +appetite—I should fall to with more zest were Dick Turpin in +his place."</p> + +<p>The countryman looked up. He was an odd-looking fellow, +with a terrible squint, and a strange, contorted countenance.</p> + +<p>"An ugly dog!" exclaimed Paterson: "what a devil of a +twist he has got!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[424]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's that you says about Dick Taarpin, measter?" +asked the countryman, with his mouth half full of bread.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen aught of him?" asked Coates.</p> + +<p>"Not I," mumbled the rustic; "but I hears aw the folks +hereabouts talk on him. They say as how he sets all the lawyers +and constables at defiance, and laughs in his sleeve at their +efforts to cotch him—ha, ha! He gets over more ground in +a day than they do in a week—ho, ho!"</p> + +<p>"That's all over now," said Coates, peevishly. "He has +cut his own throat—ridden his famous mare to death."</p> + +<p>The countryman almost choked himself, in the attempt to +bolt a huge mouthful. "Ay—indeed, measter! How happened +that?" asked he, so soon as he recovered speech.</p> + +<p>"The fool rode her from London to York last night," returned +Coates; "such a feat was never performed before. +What horse could be expected to live through such work as +that?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, he were a foo' to attempt that," observed the countryman; +"but you followed belike?"</p> + +<p>"We did."</p> + +<p>"And took him arter all, I reckon?" asked the rustic, +squinting more horribly than ever.</p> + +<p>"No," returned Coates, "I can't say we did; but we'll +have him yet. I'm pretty sure he can't be far off. We may +be nearer him than we imagine."</p> + +<p>"May be so, measter," returned the countryman; "but +might I be so bold as to ax how many horses you used i' the +chase—some half-dozen, maybe?"</p> + +<p>"Half a dozen!" growled Paterson; "we had twenty at the +least."</p> + +<p>"And I <span class="smcapl">ONE</span>!" mentally ejaculated Turpin, for he was the +countryman.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[425]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BOOK_V" id="BOOK_V"></a>BOOK V</h2> + + +<h3>THE OATH</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was an ill oath better broke than kept—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The laws of nature, and of nations, do<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dispense with matters of divinity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In such a case.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Tateham.</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[427]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I5" id="CHAPTER_I5"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>THE HUT ON THORNE WASTE</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 23em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Hind.</i> Are all our horses and our arms in safety?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Furbo.</i> They feed, like Pluto's palfreys, under ground.<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Our pistols, swords, and other furniture,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Are safely locked up at our rendezvous.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Prince of Prigs' Revels.</i></p></div> + + +<p>The hut on Thorne Waste, to which we have before incidentally +alluded, and whither we are now about to repair, was a low, +lone hovel, situate on the banks of the deep and oozy Don, at +the eastern extremity of that extensive moor. Ostensibly +its owner fulfilled the duties of ferryman to that part of the +river; but as the road which skirted his tenement was little +frequented, his craft was, for the most part, allowed to sleep +undisturbed in her moorings.</p> + +<p>In reality, however, he was the inland agent of a horde of +smugglers who infested the neighboring coast; his cabin was +their rendezvous; and not unfrequently, it was said, the depository +of their contraband goods. Conkey Jem—so was he +called by his associates, on account of the Slawkenbergian promontory +which decorated his countenance—had been an old +hand at the same trade; but having returned from a seven +years' leave of absence from his own country, procured by his +lawless life, now managed matters with more circumspection +and prudence, and had never since been detected in his former +illicit traffic; nor, though so marvellously gifted in that particular +himself, was he ever known to <i>nose</i> upon any of his +accomplices; or, in other words, to betray them. On the +contrary, his hut was a sort of asylum for all fugitives from +justice; and although the sanctity of his walls would, in all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[428]</a></span> +probability, have been little regarded, had any one been, detected +within them, yet, strange to say, even if a robber had +been tracked—as it often chanced—to Jem's immediate +neighborhood, all traces of him were sure to be lost at the +ferryman's hut; and further search was useless.</p> + +<p>Within, the hut presented such an appearance as might be +expected, from its owner's pursuits and its own unpromising +exterior. Consisting of little more than a couple of rooms, +the rude whitewashed walls exhibited, in lieu of prints of more +pretension, a gallery of choicely-illustrated ballads, celebrating +the exploits of various highwaymen, renowned in song, amongst +which our friend Dick Turpin figured conspicuously upon his +sable steed, Bess being represented by a huge rampant black +patch, and Dick, with a pistol considerably longer than the +arm that sustained it. Next to this curious collection was a +drum-net, a fishing-rod, a landing-net, an eel-spear, and other +piscatorial apparatus, with a couple of sculls and a boat-hook, +indicative of Jem's ferryman's office, suspended by various +hooks; the whole blackened and begrimed by peat-smoke, +there being no legitimate means of <i>exit</i> permitted to the vapor +generated by the turf-covered hearthstone. The only window, +indeed, in the hut, was to the front; the back apartment, +which served Jem for dormitory, had no aperture whatever for +the admission of light, except such as was afforded through +the door of communication between the rooms. A few broken +rush-bottomed chairs, with a couple of dirty tables, formed the +sum total of the ferryman's furniture.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding the grotesque effect of his exaggerated +nasal organ, Jem's aspect was at once savage and repulsive; +his lank black hair hung about his inflamed visage in wild elf +locks, the animal predominating throughout; his eyes were +small, red, and wolfish, and glared suspiciously from beneath +his scarred and tufted eyebrows; while certain of his teeth +projected, like the tusks of a boar, from out his coarse-lipped, +sensual mouth. Dwarfish in stature, and deformed in person,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[429]</a></span> +Jem was built for strength; and what with his width of shoulder +and shortness of neck, his figure looked as square and as solid as +a cube. His throat and hirsute chest, constantly exposed to the +weather, had acquired a glowing tan, while his arms, uncovered +to the shoulders, and clothed with fur, like a bear's hide, +down, almost, to the tips of his fingers, presented a knot of +folded muscles, the concentrated force of which few would +have desired to encounter in action.</p> + +<p>It was now on the stroke of midnight; and Jem, who had +been lying extended upon the floor of his hovel, suddenly +aroused by that warning impulse which never fails to awaken +one of his calling at the exact moment when they require to +be upon the alert, now set about fanning into flame the expiring +fuel upon his hearth. Having succeeded in igniting +further portions of the turf, Jem proceeded to examine the +security of his door and window, and satisfied that lock and +bolt were shot, and that the shutter was carefully closed, he +kindled a light at his fire, and walked towards his bedroom. +But it was not to retire for the night that the ferryman entered +his dormitory. Beside his crazy couch stood a litter of empty +bottles and a beer cask, crowding the chamber. The latter +he rolled aside, and pressing his foot upon the plank beneath +it, the board gave way, and a trap-door opening, discovered a +ladder, conducting, apparently, into the bowels of the earth. +Jem leaned over the abyss, and called in hoarse accents +to some one below.</p> + +<p>An answer was immediately returned, and a light became +soon afterwards visible at the foot of the ladder. Two figures +next ascended; the first who set foot within the ferryman's +chamber was Alan Rookwood: the other, as the reader may +perhaps conjecture, was his grandson.</p> + +<p>"Is it the hour?" asked Luke, as he sprang from out the +trap-door.</p> + +<p>"Ay," replied Jem, with a coarse laugh, "or I had not disturbed +myself to call you. But, maybe," added he, softening<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[430]</a></span> +his manner a little, "you'll like some refreshments before +you start? A stoup of Nantz will put you in cue for the job, +ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>"Not I," replied Luke, who could ill tolerate his companion's +familiarity.</p> + +<p>"Give me to drink," said Alan, walking feebly towards the +fire, and extending his skinny fingers before it. "I am chilled +by the damps of that swampy cave—the natural heat within +me is nigh extinguished."</p> + +<p>"Here is that shall put fresh marrow into your old bones," +returned Jem, handing him a tumbler of brandy; "never stint +it. I'll be sworn you'll be the better on't, for you look +desperate queer, man, about the mazard."</p> + +<p>Alan was, in sooth, a ghastly spectacle. The events of the +last few days had wrought a fearful change. His countenance +was almost exanimate; and when, with shaking hand and +trembling lips, he had drained the fiery potion to the dregs, a +terrible grimace was excited upon his features, such as is produced +upon the corpse by the action of the galvanic machine. +Even Jem regarded him with a sort of apprehension. After +he had taken breath for a moment, Alan broke out into +a fit of wild and immoderate laughter.</p> + +<p>"Why, ay," said he, "this is indeed to grow young again, +and to feel fresh fire within one's veins. Who would have +thought so much of life and energy could reside in this little +vessel? I am myself once more, and not the same soulless, +pulseless lump of clay I was a moment or two back. The +damps of that den had destroyed me—and the solitude—the +<i>waking dreams</i> I've had—the visions! horrible! I will not +think of them. I am better now—ready to execute my plans—<i>your</i> +plans I should say, grandson Luke. Are our horses in +readiness? Why do we tarry? The hour is arrived, and I +would not that my new-blown courage should evaporate ere +the great work for which I live be accomplished. That done, +I ask no further stimulant. Let us away."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[431]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We tarry but for Turpin," said Luke; "I am as impatient +as yourself. I fear some mischance must have befallen him, +or he would have been true to his appointment. Do you not +think so?" he added, addressing the ferryman.</p> + +<p>"Why," replied Jem, reluctantly, "since you put it home +to me, and I can't conceal it no longer, I'll tell you what I +didn't tell afore, for fear you should be down in the mouth +about it. Dick Turpin can do nothing for you—he's +grabb'd."</p> + +<p>"Turpin apprehended!" ejaculated Luke.</p> + +<p>"Ay," returned Jem. "I learnt from a farmer who crossed +the ferry at nightfall, that he were grabb'd this morning at +York, after having ridden his famous cherry-colored prad to +death—that's what hurts me more not all the rest; though I +fear Dick will scarce cheat the nubbing cheat this go. His +time's up, I calculate."</p> + +<p>"Will you supply his place and accompany us?" asked +Luke of the ferryman.</p> + +<p>"No, no," replied Jem, shaking his head; "there's too +much risk, and too little profit, in the business for me—it +won't pay."</p> + +<p>"And what might tempt you to undertake the enterprise?" +asked Alan.</p> + +<p>"More than you have to offer, Master Peter," replied Jem, +who had not been enlightened upon the subject of Alan's real +name or condition.</p> + +<p>"How know you that?" demanded Alan. "Name your +demand."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I'll not say but a hundred pounds, if you had +it, might bribe me——"</p> + +<p>"To part with your soul to the devil, I doubt not," said +Luke, fiercely stamping the ground. "Let us be gone. We +need not his mercenary aid. We will do without him."</p> + +<p>"Stay," said Alan, "you shall have the hundred, provided +you will assure us of your services."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[432]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Cut no more blarneyfied whids, Master Sexton," replied +Jem, in a gruff tone. "If I'm to go, I must have the chink +down, and that's more nor either of you can do, I'm thinking."</p> + +<p>"Give me your purse," whispered Alan to his grandson. +"Pshaw," continued he, "do you hesitate? This man can do +much for us. Think upon Eleanor, and be prudent. You +cannot accomplish your task unaided." Taking the amount +from the purse, he gave it to the ferryman, adding, "If we +succeed, the sum shall be doubled; and now let us set out."</p> + +<p>During Alan's speech, Jem's sharp eyes had been fastened +upon the purse, while he mechanically clutched the bank-notes +which were given to him. He could not remove his gaze, +but continued staring at the treasure before him, as if he +would willingly, by force, have made it all his own.</p> + +<p>Alan saw the error he had committed in exposing the contents +of the purse to the avaricious ferryman, and was about +to restore it to Luke, when the bag was suddenly snatched +from his grasp, and himself levelled by a blow upon the floor. +Conkey Jem found the temptation irresistible. Knowing +himself to be a match for both his companions, and imagining +he was secure from interruption, he conceived the idea of +making away with them, and possessing himself of their +wealth. No sooner had he disposed of Alan, than he assailed +Luke, who met his charge half way. With the vigor and alacrity +of the latter the reader is already acquainted, but he was +no match for the herculean strength of the double-jointed ferryman, +who, with the ferocity of the boar he so much resembled, +thus furiously attacked him. Nevertheless, as may be +imagined, he was not disposed to yield up his life tamely. He +saw at once the villain's murderous intentions, and, well aware +of his prodigious power, would not have risked a close struggle +could he have avoided it. Snatching the eel-spear from the +wall, he had hurled it at the head of his adversary, but without +effect. In the next instant he was locked in a clasp terrible +as that of a Polar bear. In spite of all his struggles, Luke was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[433]</a></span> +speedily hurled to the ground: and Jem, who had thrown +himself upon him, was apparently searching about for some +weapon to put a bloody termination to the conflict, when the +trampling of a horse was heard at the door, three taps were +repeated slowly, one after the other, and a call resounded from +a whistle.</p> + +<p>"Damnation!" ejaculated Jem, gruffly, "interrupted!" +And he seemed irresolute, slightly altering his position on +Luke's body.</p> + +<p>The moment was fortunate for Luke, and, in all probability, +saved his life. He extricated himself from the ferryman's +grasp, regained his feet, and, what was of more importance, +the weapon he had thrown away.</p> + +<p>"Villain!" cried he, about to plunge the spear with all his +force into his enemy's side, "you shall——"</p> + +<p>The whistle was again heard without.</p> + +<p>"Don't you hear that?" cried Jem: "'Tis Turpin's call."</p> + +<p>"Turpin!" echoed Luke, dropping the point of his weapon. +"Unbar the door, you treacherous rascal, and admit him."</p> + +<p>"Well, say no more about it, Sir Luke," said Jem, fawningly; +"I knows I owes you my life, and I thank you for it. +Take back the lowre. He should not have shown it me—it +was that as did all the mischief."</p> + +<p>"Unbar the door, and parley not," said Luke contemptuously.</p> + +<p>Jem complied with pretended alacrity, but real reluctance, +casting suspicious glances at Luke as he withdrew the bolts. +The door at length being opened, haggard, exhausted, and +covered with dust, Dick Turpin staggered into the hut.</p> + +<p>"Well, I am here," said he, with a hollow laugh. "I've +kept my word—ha, ha! I've been damnably put to it; but +here I am, ha, ha!" And he sank upon one of the stools.</p> + +<p>"We heard you were apprehended," said Luke. "I am +glad to find the information was false," added he, glancing +angrily at the ferryman.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[434]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Whoever told you that, told you a lie, Sir Luke," replied +Dick; "but what are you scowling at, old Charon?—and you, +Sir Luke? Why do you glower at each other? Make fast the +door—bolt it, Cerberus—right! Now give me a glass of +brandy, and then I'll talk—a bumper—so—another. What's +that I see—a dead man? Old Peter—Alan I mean—has anything +happened to him, that he has taken his measure there +so quietly?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, I trust," said Luke, stooping to raise up his +grandsire. "The blow has stunned him."</p> + +<p>"The blow?" repeated Turpin. "What! there <i>has</i> been a +quarrel then? I thought as much from your amiable looks at +each other. Come, come, we must have no differences. Give +the old earthworm a taste of this—I'll engage it will bring him +to fast enough. Ay, rub his temples with it if you'd rather; +but it's a better remedy down the gullet—the natural course; +and hark ye, Jem, search your crib quickly, and see if you +have any <i>grub</i> within it, and any more <i>bub</i> in the cellar: I'm +as hungry as a hunter, and as thirsty as a camel."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II5" id="CHAPTER_II5"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>MAJOR MOWBRAY</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="center"><i>Mephistopheles.</i> Out with your toasting iron! Thrust away!</p> + +<p class="rgt"><span class="smcap">Hayward's</span> <i>Translation of Faust</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>Conkey Jem went in search of such provisions as his hovel +afforded. Turpin, meantime, lent his assistance towards the +revival of Alan Rookwood; and it was not long before his +efforts, united with those of Luke, were successful, and Alan +restored to consciousness. He was greatly surprised to find +the highwayman had joined them, and expressed an earnest +desire to quit the hut as speedily as possible.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[435]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That shall be done forthwith, my dear fellow," said Dick. +"But if you had fasted as long as I have done, and gone +through a few of my fatigues into the bargain, you would perceive, +without difficulty, the propriety of supping before +you started. Here comes Old Nosey, with a flitch of bacon +and a loaf. Egad, I can scarce wait for the toasting. In my +present mood, I could almost devour a grunter in the sty." +Whereupon he applied himself to the loaf, and to a bottle of +stout March ale, which Jem placed upon the table, quaffing +copious draughts of the latter, while the ferryman employed +himself in toasting certain rashers of the flitch upon the hissing +embers.</p> + +<p>Luke, meanwhile, stalked impatiently about the room. He +had laid aside his tridental spear, having first, however, placed +a pistol within his breast to be ready for instant service, should +occasion demand it, as he could now put little reliance upon +the ferryman's fidelity. He glanced with impatience at Turpin, +who pursued his meal with steady voracity, worthy of a half-famished +soldier; but the highwayman returned no answer to +his looks, except such as was conveyed by the incessant clatter +of his masticating jaws, during the progress of his, apparently, +interminable repast.</p> + +<p>"Ready for you in a second, Sir Luke," said Dick; "all +right now—capital ale, Charon—strong as Styx—ha, ha!—one +other rasher, and I've done. Sorry to keep you—can't +conceive how cleverly I put the winkers upon 'em at York, in +the dress of a countryman; all owing to old Balty, the patrico, +an old pal—ha, ha! My old pals never <i>nose</i> upon me—eh, +Nosey—always help one out of the water—always staunch. +Here's health to you, old crony."</p> + +<p>Jem returned a sulky response, as he placed the last rasher +on the table, which was speedily discussed.</p> + +<p>"Poor Bess!" muttered Dick, as he quaffed off the final +glass of ale. "Poor lass! we buried her by the roadside, +beneath the trees—deep—deep. Her remains shall never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[436]</a></span> +be disturbed. Alas! alas! my bonny Black Bess! But no +matter, her name is yet alive—her deeds will survive her—the +trial is over. And now," continued he, rising from his seat, +"I'm with you. Where are the tits?"</p> + +<p>"In the stable, under ground," growled Jem.</p> + +<p>Alan Rookwood, in the mean time, had joined his grandson, +and they conversed an instant or two apart.</p> + +<p>"My strength will not bear me through the night," said he. +"That fellow has thoroughly disabled me. You must go without +me to the hall. Here is the key of the secret passage. +You know the entrance. I will await you in the tomb."</p> + +<p>"The tomb!" echoed Luke.</p> + +<p>"Ay, our family vault," returned Alan, with a ghastly grin—"it +is the only place of security for me now. Let me see <i>her</i> +there. Let me know that my vengeance is complete, that I +triumph in my death over him, the accursed <i>brother</i>, through +you, my grandson. <i>You</i> have a rival brother—a successful +one; you know now what hatred is."</p> + +<p>"I do," returned Luke, fiercely.</p> + +<p>"But not such hate as mine, which, through a life, a long +life, hath endured, intense as when 'twas first engendered in +my bosom; which <i>from one</i> hath spread o'er all my race—o'er +all save <i>you</i>—and which even now, when death stares me in +the face—when the spirit pants to fly from its prison-house, +burns fiercely as ever. You cannot know what hate like that +may be. You must have wrongs—such wrongs as <i>mine</i> +first."</p> + +<p>"My hate to Ranulph is bitter as your own to Sir Reginald."</p> + +<p>"Name him not," shrieked Alan. "But, oh! to think upon +the bride he robbed me of—the young—the beautiful!—whom +I loved to madness; whose memory is a barbed shaft, +yet rankling keen as ever at my heart. God of Justice! how +is it that I have thus long survived? But some men die by +inches. My dying lips shall name him once again, and then +'twill be but to blend his name with curses."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[437]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I speak of him no more," said Luke. "I will meet you +in the vault."</p> + +<p>"Remember, to-morrow is her wedding day with Ranulph."</p> + +<p>"Think you I forget it?"</p> + +<p>"Bear it constantly in mind. To-morrow's dawn must see +her <i>yours</i> or <i>his</i>. You have her oath. To you or to death +she is affianced. If she should hesitate in her election, do +not you hesitate. Woman's will is fickle; her scruples of +conscience will be readily overcome; she will not heed her +vows—but let her not escape you. Cast off all your weakness. +You are young, and not as I am, age-enfeebled. Be firm, +and," added he, with a look of terrible meaning, "if all else +should fail—if you are surrounded—if you cannot bear her +off—use this," and he placed a dagger in Luke's hands. "It +has avenged me, ere now, on a perjured wife, it will avenge +you of a forsworn mistress, and remove all obstacle to Rookwood."</p> + +<p>Luke took the weapon.</p> + +<p>"Would you have me kill her?" demanded he.</p> + +<p>"Sooner than she should be Ranulph's."</p> + +<p>"Ay, aught sooner than that. But I would not murder +both."</p> + +<p>"Both!" echoed Alan. "I understand you not."</p> + +<p>"Sybil and Eleanor," replied Luke; "for, as surely as I +live, Sybil's death will lie at my door."</p> + +<p>"How so?" asked Alan; "the poison was self-ministered."</p> + +<p>"True," replied Luke, with terrible emphasis, "but I <i>spoke +daggers</i>. Hearken to me," said he, hollowly whispering in his +grandsire's ears. "Methinks I am not long for this world. I +have seen her since her death!"</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut," replied Alan. "'Tis not for you—a man—to +talk thus. A truce to these womanish fancies."</p> + +<p>"Womanish or not," returned Luke; "either my fancy has +deceived me, or I beheld her, distinctly as I now behold you, +within yon cave, while you were sleeping by my side."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[438]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is disordered fancy," said Alan Rookwood. "You will +live—live to inherit Rookwood—live to see them fall crushed +beneath your feet. For myself, if I but see you master of +Eleanor's hand, or know that she no longer lives to bless your +rival, or to mar your prospects, I care not how soon I brave +my threatened doom."</p> + +<p>"Of one or other you shall be resolved to-night," said Luke, +placing the dagger within his vest.</p> + +<p>At this moment a trampling of a horse was heard before the +hovel, and in another instant a loud knocking resounded from +the door. The ferryman instantly extinguished the light, +motioning his companions to remain silent.</p> + +<p>"What, ho!" shouted a voice. "Ferry wanted."</p> + +<p>"Gad zooks!" exclaimed Dick. "As I live, 'tis Major +Mowbray!"</p> + +<p>"Major Mowbray!" echoed Alan, in amazement "What +doth he here?"</p> + +<p>"He must be on his way from York to Rookwood, I conclude," +said Dick. "If he's here, I'll engage the others are +not far off."</p> + +<p>Scarcely were the words out of Dick's mouth, when further +clatter was heard at the door, and the tones of Coates were +heard, in <i>altissimo</i> key, demanding admittance.</p> + +<p>"Let us retire into the next room," whispered Turpin, "and +then admit them by all means, Conkey. And, hark ye, manage +to detain them a few seconds."</p> + +<p>"I'll do it," said Jem. "There's a bit of a hole you can +peep through."</p> + +<p>Another loud rat-tat was heard at the door, threatening to +burst it from its hinges.</p> + +<p>"Well, I be coming," said Jem, seeing the coast was clear, in +a drowsy, yawning tone, as if just awakened from sleep. "You'll +cross the river none the faster for making so much noise."</p> + +<p>With these words he unbarred the door, and Coates and +Paterson, who, it appeared, were proceeding to Rookwood,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[439]</a></span> +entered the hovel. Major Mowbray remained on horseback +at the door.</p> + +<p>"Can you find us a glass of brandy to keep out the fog?" +said Coates, who knew something of our ferryman's vocations. +"I know you are a lad of amazing <i>spirit</i>."</p> + +<p>"May be I can, master, if I choose. But won't the other +gemman walk in-doors likewise?"</p> + +<p>"No, no," said Coates; "Major Mowbray don't choose to +dismount."</p> + +<p>"Well, as you please," said Jem. "It'll take me a minute +or two to get the punt in order for all them prads."</p> + +<p>"The brandy in the first place," said Coates. "What's +here?" added the loquacious attorney, noticing the remnants +of Turpin's repast. "But that we're hurried, I should like a +little frizzled bacon myself."</p> + +<p>Jem opened the door of his dormitory with the greatest +caution, though apparent indifference, and almost instantly +returned with the brandy. Coates filled a glass for Paterson, +and then another for himself. The ferryman left the house +apparently to prepare his boat, half closing the door after him.</p> + +<p>"By my faith! this is the right thing, Paterson," said the +attorney. "We may be sure the strength of this was never +tested by a gauger's proof. Take another thimbleful. We've +twelve miles and a heavy pull to go through ere we reach +Rookwood. After all, we made but a poor night's work of it, +Master Constable. Cursed stupid in us to let him escape. I +only wish we had such another chance. Ah, if we had him +within reach now, how we would spring upon him—secure him +in an instant. I should glory in the encounter. I tell you +what, Paterson, if ever he is taken, I shall make a point of attending +his execution, and see whether he dies game. Ha, +ha! You think he's sure to swing, Paterson, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," replied the chief constable. "I wish I was as +certain of my reward as that Turpin will eventually figure at +the scragging-post."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[440]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Your reward!" replied Coates. "Make yourself easy on +that score, my boy; you shall have your dues, depend upon it. +Nay, for the matter of that, I'll give you the money now, if +you think proper."</p> + +<p>"Nothing like time present," said Paterson. "We'll make +all square at once."</p> + +<p>"Well, then," said Coates, taking out a pocket-book, "you +shall have the hundred I promised. You won't get Turpin's +reward, the three hundred pounds; but that can't be helped. +You shall have mine—always a man of my word, Paterson," +continued the attorney, counting out the money. "My +father, the thief-taker, was a man of his word before me."</p> + +<p>"No doubt," said the chief constable; "I shall always be +happy to serve you."</p> + +<p>"And then there's that other affair," said the attorney, mysteriously, +still occupied in doling out his bank-notes, "that +Luke Bradley's case; the fellow, I mean, who calls himself Sir +Luke Rookwood—ha, ha! A rank impostor! Two fives, +that makes fifty: you want another fifty, Paterson. As I was +saying, we may make a good job of that—we must ferret him +out. I know who will come down properly for that; and if +we could only tuck him up with his brother blade, why it would +be worth double. He's all along been a thorn in my Lady +Rookwood's side; he's an artful scoundrel."</p> + +<p>"Leave him to me," said Paterson; "I'll have him in less +than a week. What's your charge against him?"</p> + +<p>"Felony, burglary, murder, every description of crime under +the heavens," said Coates. "He's a very devil incarnate. +Dick Turpin is as mild as milk compared with him. By-the-by, +now I think of it, this Jem, Conkey Jem, as folks call him, +may know something about him; he's a keen file; I'll sound +him. Thirty, forty, fifty—there's the exact amount. So +much for Dick Turpin."</p> + +<p>"Dick Turpin thanks you for it in person," said Dick, suddenly +snatching the whole sum from Paterson's hands, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[441]</a></span> +felling the chief constable with a blow of one of his pistols. +"I wish I was as sure of escaping the gallows as I am certain +that Paterson has got his reward. You stare, sir. You are +once more in the hands of the Philistines. See who is at your +elbow."</p> + +<p>Coates, who was terrified almost out of his senses at the +sight of Turpin, scarcely ventured to turn his head; but when +he did so, he was perfectly horror-stricken at the threatening +aspect of Luke, who held a cutlass in his hand, which he +had picked up in the ferryman's bedroom.</p> + +<p>"So you would condemn me for crimes I have never committed," +said Luke. "I am tempted, I own, to add the +destruction of your worthless existence to their number."</p> + +<p>"Mercy, for God's sake, mercy!" cried Coates, throwing +himself at Luke's feet. "I meant not what I said."</p> + +<p>"Hence, reptile," said Luke, pushing him aside; "I leave +you to be dealt upon by others."</p> + +<p>At this juncture, the door of the hut was flung open, and +in rushed Major Mowbray, sword in hand, followed by Conkey +Jem.</p> + +<p>"There he stands, sir," cried the latter; "upon him!"</p> + +<p>"What! Conkey Jem turned snitch upon his pals?" cried +Dick; "I scarce believe my own ears."</p> + +<p>"Make yourself scarce, Dick," growled Jem; "the jigger's +open, and the boat loose. Leave Luke to his fate. He's sold."</p> + +<p>"Never! vile traitor," shouted Dick; "'tis thou art <i>sold</i>, +not he;" and, almost ere the words were spoken, a ball was +lodged in the brain of the treacherous ferryman.</p> + +<p>Major Mowbray, meanwhile, had rushed furiously upon +Luke, who met his assault with determined calmness. The +strife was sharp, and threatened a speedy and fatal issue. On +the Major's side it was a desperate attack of cut and thrust, +which Luke had some difficulty in parrying; but as yet no +wounds were inflicted. Soldier as was the Major, Luke was +not a whit inferior to him in his knowledge of the science of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[442]</a></span> +defence, and in the exercise of the broadsword he was perhaps +the more skilful of the two: upon the present occasion his +coolness stood him in admirable stead. Seeing him hard +pressed, Turpin would have come to his assistance; but Luke +shouted to him to stand aside, and all that Dick could do, +amid the terrific clash of steel, was to kick the tables out of +the way of the combatants. Luke's aim was now slightly +grazed by a cut made by the Major, which he had parried. +The smart of the wound roused his ire. He attacked his adversary +in his turn, with so much vigor and good will, that, +driven backwards by the irresistible assault, Major Mowbray +stumbled over the ferryman's body, which happened to lie in +his way; and his sword being struck from his grasp, his life +became at once at his assailant's disposal.</p> + +<p>Luke sheathed his sword. "Major Mowbray," said he, +sternly, "your life is in my power. I spare it for the blood +that is between us—for your sister's sake. I would not raise +my hand against her brother."</p> + +<p>"I disclaim your kindred with me, villain!" wrathfully exclaimed +the Major. "I hold you no otherwise than as a +wretched impostor, who has set up claims he cannot justify; +and as to my sister, if you dare to couple her name——" and +the Major made an ineffectual attempt to raise himself, and to +regain his sword, which Turpin, however, removed.</p> + +<p>"Dare!" echoed Luke, scornfully; "hereafter, you may +learn to fear my threats, and acknowledge the extent of my +daring; and in that confidence I give you life. Listen to me, +sir. I am bound for Rookwood. I have private access to the +house—to your sister's chamber—<i>her chamber</i>—mark you +that! I shall go armed—attended. This night she shall be +mine. From you—from Ranulph—from Lady Rookwood, +from all will I bear her off. She shall be mine, and you, +before the dawn, my brother, or——" And Luke paused.</p> + +<p>"What further villainy remains untold?" inquired the +Major, fiercely.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[443]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You shall bewail your sister's memory," replied Luke, +gloomily.</p> + +<p>"I embrace the latter alternative with rapture," replied the +Major—"God grant her firmness to resist you. But I tremble +for her." And the stern soldier groaned aloud in his agony.</p> + +<p>"Here is a cord to bind him," said Turpin; "he must +remain a prisoner here."</p> + +<p>"Right," said Alan Rookwood, "unless—but enough blood +has been shed already."</p> + +<p>"Ay, marry has there," said Dick, "and I had rather not +have given Conkey Jem a taste of blue plumb, had there +been any other mode of silencing the snitching scoundrel, +which there was not. As to the Major, he's a gallant enemy, +and shall have fair play as long as Dick Turpin stands by. +Come, sir," added he, to the Major, as he bound him hand +and foot with the rope, "I'll do it as gently as I can. You +had better submit with a good grace. There's no help for it. +And now for my friend Paterson, who was so anxious to furnish +me with a hempen cravat, before my neck was in order, he +shall have an extra twist of the rope himself, to teach him the +inconvenience of a tight neckcloth when he recovers." Saying +which, he bound Paterson in such a manner, that any +attempt at liberation on the chief constable's part would infallibly +strangle him. "As to you, Mr. Coates," said he, addressing +the trembling man of law, "you shall proceed to +Rookwood with us. You may yet be useful, and I'll accommodate +you with a seat behind my own saddle—a distinction I +never yet conferred upon any of your tribe. Recollect the +countryman at the Bowling-green at York—ha, ha! Come +along, sir." And having kicked out the turf fire, Dick +prepared to depart.</p> + +<p>It would be vain to describe the feelings of rage and despair +which agitated the major's bosom, as he saw the party quit the +hovel, accompanied by Coates. Aware as he was of their destination, +after one or two desperate but ineffectual attempts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[444]</a></span> +to liberate himself, by which he only increased the painful +constriction of his bonds, without in the slightest degree ameliorating +his condition, he resigned himself, with bitterest forebodings, +to his fate. There was no one even to sympathize +with his sufferings. Beside him lay the gory corpse of the +ferryman, and, at a little distance, the scarcely more animate +frame of the chief constable. And here we must leave him, +to follow, for a short space, the course of Luke and his companions.</p> + +<p>Concerning themselves little about their own steeds, the +party took those which first offered, and embarking man and +horse in the boat, soon pushed across the waters of the lutulent +Don. Arrived at the opposite banks of the river, they +mounted, and, guided by Luke, after half an hour's sharp +riding, arrived at the skirts of Rookwood Park. Entering +this beautiful sylvan domain, they rode for some time silently +among the trees, till they reached the knoll whence Luke +beheld the hall on the eventful night of his discovery of his +mother's wedding ring. A few days only had elapsed, but +during that brief space what storms had swept over his bosom—what +ravages had they not made! He was then all ardor—all +impetuosity—all independence. The future presented a bright +unclouded prospect. Wealth, honors, and happiness apparently +awaited him. It was still the same exquisite scene, +hushed, holy, tranquil—even solemn, as upon that glorious +night. The moon was out, silvering wood and water, and +shining on the white walls of the tranquil mansion. Nature +was calm, serene, peaceful as ever. Beneath the trees, he +saw the bounding deer—upon the water, the misty wreaths of +vapor—all, all was dreamy, delightful, soothing, all save his +heart—<i>there</i> was the conflict—<i>there</i> the change. Was it a +troubled dream, with the dark oppression of which he was +struggling, or was it stern, waking, actual life? That moment's +review of his wild career was terrible. He saw to what extremes +his ungovernable passions had hurried him; he saw<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[445]</a></span> +their inevitable consequences; he saw also his own fate; but +he rushed madly on.</p> + +<p>He swept round the park, keeping under the covert of the +wood, till he arrived at the avenue leading to the mansion. +The stems of the aged limes gleamed silvery white in the +moonshine. Luke drew in the rein beneath one of the largest +of the trees.</p> + +<p>"A branch has fallen," said he, as his grandsire joined him.</p> + +<p>"Ha!" exclaimed Alan, "a branch from that tree?"</p> + +<p>"It bodes ill to Ranulph," whispered Luke, "does it not?"</p> + +<p>"Perchance," muttered Alan. "'Tis a vast bough!"</p> + +<p>"We meet within an hour," said Luke, abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Within the tomb of our ancestry," replied Alan; "I will +await you there."</p> + +<p>And as he rode away, Alan murmured to himself the following +verse from one of his own ballads:</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 28em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But whether gale or calm prevail, or threatening cloud hath fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By hand of Fate, predestinate, a limb that tree will shed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A verdant bough, untouched, I trow, by axe or tempest's breath—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Rookwood's head an omen dread of fast approaching death.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[446]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III5" id="CHAPTER_III5"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>HANDASSAH</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 22em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I have heard it rumored for these many years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None of our family dies but there is seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shape of an old woman, which is given<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By tradition to us to have been murthered<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By her nephews for her riches. Such a figure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One night, as the prince sat up late at 's book,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Appeared to him; when, crying out for help,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gentleman of his chamber found his Grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All in a cold sweat, altered much in face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And language, since which apparition<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hath grown worse and worse, and much I fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cannot live.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Duchess of Malfy.</i></p></div> + + +<p>In one of those large antique rooms, belonging to the suite +of apartments constituting the eastern wing of Rookwood +Place—upon the same night as that in which the events just +detailed took place, and it might be about the same time, sat +Eleanor, and her new attendant, the gipsy Handassah. The +eyes of the former were fixed, with a mixture of tenderness +and pity, upon the lineaments of another lovely female countenance, +bearing a striking resemblance to her own, though +evidently, from its attire, and bygone costume, not intended +for her, depicted upon a tablet, and placed upon a raised +frame. It was nigh the witching hour of night. The room +was sombre and dusky, partially dismantled of its once flowing +arras, and the lights set upon the table feebly illumined its +dreary extent. Tradition marked it out as the chamber in +which many of the hapless dames of Rookwood had expired; +and hence Superstition claimed it as her peculiar domain. +The room was reputed to be haunted, and had for a long space<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[447]</a></span> +shared the fate of haunted rooms—complete desertion. It +was now tenanted by one too young, too pure, to fear aught +unearthly. Eleanor seemed, nevertheless, affected by the +profound melancholy of the picture upon which she gazed. At +length, Handassah observed her start, and avert her eye shudderingly +from the picture.</p> + +<p>"Take it hence," exclaimed Eleanor; "I have looked at +that image of my ancestors, till it has seemed endowed with +life—till its eyes have appeared to return my gaze, and weep. +Remove it, Handassah."</p> + +<p>Handassah silently withdrew the tablet, placing it against +the wall of the chamber.</p> + +<p>"Not there—not there," cried Eleanor; "turn it with its +face to the wall. I cannot bear those eyes. And now come +hither, girl—draw nearer—for I know not what of sudden +dread has crossed me. This was <i>her</i> room, Handassah—the +chamber of my ancestress—of all the Ladies Rookwood—where +they say——Ha! did you not hear a noise?—a rustle +in the tapestry—a footstep near the wall? Why, you look as +startled as I look, wench; stay by me—I will not have you +stir from my side—'twas mere fancy."</p> + +<p>"No doubt, lady," said Handassah, with her eyes fixed +upon the arras.</p> + +<p>"Hist!" exclaimed Eleanor, "there 'tis again."</p> + +<p>"'Tis nothing," replied Handassah. But her looks belied +her words.</p> + +<p>"Well, I will command myself," said Eleanor, endeavoring +to regain her calmness; "but the thoughts of the Lady +Eleanor—for <i>she</i> was an Eleanor like to me, Handassah—and +ah! even more ill-fated and unhappy—have brought a +whole train of melancholy fancies into my mind. I cannot +banish them: nay, though painful to me, I recur to these +images of dread with a species of fascination, as if in their +fate I contemplated mine own. Not one, who hath wedded +a Rookwood, but hath rued it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[448]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yet you will wed one," said Handassah.</p> + +<p>"He is not like the rest," said Eleanor.</p> + +<p>"How know you that, lady?" asked Handassah. "His +time may not yet be come. See what to-morrow will bring +forth."</p> + +<p>"You are averse to my marriage with Ranulph, Handassah."</p> + +<p>"I was Sybil's handmaid ere I was yours, lady. I bear in +mind a solemn compact with the dead, which this marriage +will violate. You are plighted by oath to another, if he should +demand your hand."</p> + +<p>"But he has not demanded it."</p> + +<p>"Would you accept him were he to do so?" asked Handassah, +suddenly.</p> + +<p>"I meant not that," replied Eleanor. "My oath is annulled."</p> + +<p>"Say not so, lady," cried Handassah—"'twas not for this +that Sybil spared your life. I love you, but I loved Sybil, and +I would see her dying behests complied with."</p> + +<p>"It may not be, Handassah," replied Eleanor. "Why, +from a phantom sense of honor, am I to sacrifice my whole +existence to one who neither can love me, nor whom I myself +could love? Am I to wed this man because, in her blind +idolatry of him, Sybil enforced an oath upon me which I had +no power to resist, and which was mentally cancelled while +taken? Recall not the horrors of that dreadful cell—urge not +the subject more. 'Tis in the hope that I may be freed for +ever from this persecution that I have consented thus early to +wed with Ranulph. This will set Luke's fancied claims at +rest for ever."</p> + +<p>Handassah answered not, but bent her head, as if in acquiescence.</p> + +<p>Steps were now heard near the door, and a servant ushered +in Dr. Small and Mrs. Mowbray.</p> + +<p>"I am come to take leave of you for the night, my dear +young lady," said the doctor; "but before I start for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[449]</a></span> +Vicarage, I have a word or two to say, in addition to the +advice you were so obliging as to receive from me this morning. +Suppose you allow your attendant to retire for a few +minutes. What I have got to say concerns yourself solely. +Your mother will bear us company. There," continued the +doctor, as Handassah was dismissed—"I am glad that dark-faced +gipsy has taken her departure. I can't say I like her +sharp suspicious manner, and the first exercise I should make +at my powers, were I to be your husband, should be to discharge +the handmaiden. To the point of my visit. We are +alone, I think. This is a queer old house, Miss Mowbray; +and this is the queerest part of it. Walls have ears, they say; +and there are so many holes and corners in this mansion, that +one ought never to talk secrets above one's breath."</p> + +<p>"I am yet to learn, sir," said Eleanor, "that there is any +secret to be communicated."</p> + +<p>"Why, not much, I own," replied the doctor; "at least +what has occurred is no secret in the house by this time. +What do you think <i>has</i> happened?"</p> + +<p>"It is impossible for me to conjecture. Nothing to Ranulph, +I hope."</p> + +<p>"Nothing of consequence, I trust,—though he is part concerned +with it."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Eleanor.</p> + +<p>"Pray satisfy her curiosity, doctor," interposed Mrs. Mowbray.</p> + +<p>"Well, then," said Small, rather more gravely, "the fact of +the matter stands thus:—Lady Rookwood, who, as you know, +was not the meekest wife in the world, now turns out by +no means the gentlest mother, and has within this hour +found out that she has some objection to your union with her +son."</p> + +<p>"You alarm me, doctor."</p> + +<p>"Don't alarm yourself at all. It will be got over without +difficulty, and only requires a little management. Ranulph is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[450]</a></span> +with her now, and I doubt not will arrange all to her satisfaction."</p> + +<p>"What was her objection?" asked Eleanor; "was it any +one founded upon my obligation to Luke—my oath?"</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut! dismiss that subject from your mind entirely," +said the doctor. "That oath is no more binding on your +conscience than would have been the ties of marriage had you +been wedded by yon recusant Romish priest, Father Checkley, +upon whose guilty head the Lord be merciful! Bestow not a +thought upon it. My anxiety, together with that of your +mother, is to see you now, as speedily as may be, wedded to +Ranulph, and then that idle question is set at rest for ever; +and therefore, even if such a thing were to occur as that Lady +Rookwood should not yield her consent to your marriage, as +that consent is totally unnecessary, we must go through the +ceremonial without it."</p> + +<p>"The grounds of Lady Rookwood's objections——" said Mrs. +Mowbray.</p> + +<p>"Ay, the grounds of her ladyship's objections," interposed +Small, who, when he had once got the lead, liked nobody to +talk but himself, "are simply these, and exactly the sort of +objections one would expect her to raise. She cannot bear +the idea of abandoning the control of the house and estates +to other hands. She cannot, and will not relinquish her station, +as head of the establishment, which Ranulph has insisted +upon as your right. I thought, when I conversed with her on +this subject, that she was changed, but</p> + +<p class="hd4">Naturam expellas furcâ, tamen usque recurret.</p> + +<p>I beg your pardon. She is, and always will be, the same."</p> + +<p>"Why did not Ranulph concede the point to her? I wish +not to dwell here. I care not for these domains—for this +mansion. They have no charms for me. I could be happy +with Ranulph anywhere—happier anywhere than here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[451]</a></span></p> + +<p>The kind-hearted doctor squeezed her hand in reply, brushing +a tear from his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Why did he not concede it?" said Mrs. Mowbray, proudly. +"Because the choice remained not with him. It was not his +to concede. This house—these lands—all—all are yours; +and it were poor requital, indeed, if, after they have so long +been wrongfully withheld from us, you should be a dependant +on Lady Rookwood."</p> + +<p>"Without going quite so far as that, madam," said the +doctor, "it is but justice to your daughter that she should +be put in full possession of her rights; nor should I for one +instant advise, or even allow her to inhabit the same house +with Lady Rookwood. Her ladyship's peculiarities of temper +are such as to preclude all possibility of happiness. At the +same time, I trust by management—always by management, +madam—that her ladyship's quiet departure may be ensured. +I understand that all such legal arrangements in the way of +settlements as could be entered into between your daughter +and her future husband are completed. I have only to regret +the absence of my friend, Mr. Coates, at this momentous +conjuncture. It will be a loss to him. But he inherits from +his father a taste for thief-taking, which he is at present +indulging, to the manifest injury of his legitimate practice. Hark! +I hear Ranulph's step in the gallery. He will tell us the +result of his final interview. I came to give you advice, my +dear," added the doctor in a low tone to Eleanor; "but I find +you need it not. 'Whoso humbleth himself, shall be exalted.' +I am glad you do not split upon the rock which has stranded +half your generation."</p> + +<p>At this moment Ranulph Rookwood entered the room, followed +by Handassah, who took her station at the back of the +room, unperceived by the rest of the party, whose attention +was attracted by Ranulph's agitated manner.</p> + +<p>"What has happened?" asked Dr. Small and Mrs. Mowbray +in the same breath.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[452]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ranulph hesitated for a moment in his answer, during +which space he regarded Eleanor with the deepest anxiety, +and seemed revolving within himself how he could frame his +reply in such way as should be least painful to her feelings; +while, with instinctive apprehension of coming misfortune, Miss +Mowbray eagerly seconded the inquiries of her friends.</p> + +<p>"It is with great pain," said he, at length, in a tone of despondency, +not unmingled with displeasure, "that I am obliged +to descant upon the infirmities of a parent, and to censure her +conduct as severely as I may do now. I feel the impropriety +of such a step, and I would willingly avoid it, could I do so in +justice to my own feelings—and especially at a moment like +the present—when every hope of my life is fixed upon uniting +myself to you, dear Eleanor, by ties as near as my own to that +parent. But the interview which I have just had with Lady +Rookwood—bitter and heart-breaking as it has been—compels +me to reprobate her conduct in the strongest terms, as harsh, +unjust, and dishonorable; and if I could wholly throw off the +son, as she avows she has thrown off the mother, I should +unhesitatingly pronounce it as little short of——"</p> + +<p>"Dear Ranulph," said Eleanor, palpitating with apprehension, +"I never saw you so much moved."</p> + +<p>"Nor with so much reason," rejoined Ranulph. "For myself, +I could endure anything—but for <i>you</i>——"</p> + +<p>"And does your dispute relate to <i>me</i>?" asked Eleanor. "Is +it for <i>my</i> sake you have braved your mother's displeasure? +Is it because Lady Rookwood is unwilling to resign the control +of this house and these lands to <i>me</i>, that you have +parted in anger with her? Was this the cause of your +quarrel?"</p> + +<p>"It was the origin of it," replied Ranulph.</p> + +<p>"Mother," said Eleanor, firmly, to Mrs. Mowbray, "go +with me to Lady Rookwood's chamber."</p> + +<p>"Wherefore?" demanded Mrs. Mowbray.</p> + +<p>"Question me not, dear mother, or let me go alone."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[453]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Daughter, I guess your meaning," said Mrs. Mowbray, +sternly. "You would relinquish your claims in favor of Lady +Rookwood. Is it not so?"</p> + +<p>"Since you oblige me to answer you, mother," said Eleanor, +crimsoning, "I must admit that you have guessed my +meaning. To Lady Rookwood, as to yourself, I would be +a daughter as far as is consistent with my duty," added she, +blushing still more deeply, "but my first consideration shall +be my husband. And if Lady Rookwood can be content——But +pray question me not further—accompany me to her +chamber."</p> + +<p>"Eleanor," interposed Ranulph, "dearest Eleanor, the +sacrifice you would make is unnecessary—uncalled for. You +do not know my mother. She would not, I grieve to say, appreciate +the generosity of your motives. She would not give +you credit for your feelings. She would only resent your visit +as an intrusion."</p> + +<p>"My daughter comprehends you, sir," said Mrs. Mowbray, +haughtily. "I will take care that, in her own house, Miss +Mowbray shall remain free from insult."</p> + +<p>"Mother, dear mother," said Eleanor, "do not wilfully +misunderstand him."</p> + +<p>"You can be little aware, madam," said Ranulph, calmly, +yet sadly, "how much I have recently endured—how much of +parental anger—how much of parental malediction I have incurred, +to save you and your daughter from the indignity you +apprehend. As I before said, you do not know my mother; +nor could it enter into any well-regulated imagination to conceive +the extremities to which the violence of her passion will, +when her schemes are thwarted, hurry her. The terms upon +which you met together will not escape your recollection; nor +shall I need to recall to your mind her haughtiness, her coldness. +That coldness has since ripened into distrust; and the match +which she was at first all anxiety to promote, she would now +utterly set aside, were it in her power to do so. Whence this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[454]</a></span> +alteration in her views has arisen, I have no means of ascertaining; +it is not my mother's custom to give a reason for her +actions, or her wishes: it is all-sufficient to express them. I +have perceived, as the time has drawn nigh for the fulfilment +of my dearest hopes, that her unwillingness has increased; +until to-day, what had hitherto been confined to hints, has +been openly expressed, and absolute objections raised. Such, +however, is the peculiarity of her temper, that I trusted, even +at the eleventh hour, I should be able to work a change. +Alas! our last meeting was decisive. She commanded me to +break off the match. At once, and peremptorily, I refused. +Pardon me, madam, pardon me, dearest Eleanor, if I thus enter +into particulars; it is absolutely necessary I should be +explicit. Enraged at my opposition to her wishes, her fury +became ungovernable. With appalling imprecations upon the +memory of my poor father, and upon <i>your</i> father, madam, +whose chief offence in her eyes was, it seems, the disposition +of his property to Eleanor, she bade me be gone, and take her +curses as my wedding portion. Beneath this roof—beneath +<i>her</i> roof, she added—no marriage of mine should e'er take +place. I might go hence, or might stay, as I thought fitting; +but you and your daughter, whom she characterized as intruders, +should not remain another hour within her house. To +this wild raving I answered, with as much composure as I +could command, that she entirely mistook her own position, +and that, so far from the odium of intrusion resting with you, +if applicable to any one, the term must necessarily affix itself on +those who, through ignorance, had for years unjustly deprived +the rightful owners of this place of their inheritance. Upon this +her wrath was boundless. She disowned me as her son; disclaimed +all maternal regard, and heaped upon my head a +frightful malediction, at the recollection of which I still +tremble. I will spare you further details of this dreadful +scene. To me it is most distressing; for, however firmly +resolved I may be to pursue a line of conduct which every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[455]</a></span> +sound principle within me dictates as the correct one, yet I +cannot be insensible to the awful responsibility I shall incur in +bringing down a mother's curse upon my head, nor to the +jeopardy in which her own excessive violence may place her."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mowbray listened to Ranulph's explanation in haughty +displeasure; Eleanor with throbbing, tearful interest; Dr. +Small, with mixed feelings of anger and astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Lady Rookwood's conduct," said the doctor, "is—you +must forgive me, my dear Sir Ranulph, for using strong +expressions—outrageous beyond all precedent, and only excusable +on the ground of insanity, to which I wish it were +possible we could attribute it. There is, however, too much +method in her madness to allow us to indulge any such notion; +she is shrewd, dangerous, and designing; and, since she has +resolved to oppose this match, she will leave no means untried +to do so. I scarcely know how to advise you under the +circumstances—that is, if my advice were asked."</p> + +<p>"Which I scarcely think it likely to be, sir," said Mrs. +Mowbray, coldly. "After what has occurred, <i>I</i> shall think it +my duty to break off this alliance, which I have never considered +to be so desirable that its rupture will occasion me an +instant's uneasiness."</p> + +<p>"A plague on all these Rookwoods!" muttered Small. +"One would think all the pride of the Prince of Darkness +were centered in their bosoms. But, madam," continued +the benevolent doctor, "have you no consideration for the +feelings of your daughter, or for those of one who is no distant +relation to you—your nephew? Your son, Major Mowbray, +is, if I mistake not, most eager for this union to take +place between his sister and his friend."</p> + +<p>"My children have been accustomed to yield implicit +obedience to my wishes," said Mrs. Mowbray, "and Major +Mowbray, I am sure, will see the propriety of the step I +am about to take. I am content, at least, to abide by <i>his</i> +opinion."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[456]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Snubbed again!" mentally ejaculated the doctor, with a +shrug of despair. "It is useless attempting to work upon +such impracticable material."</p> + +<p>Ranulph remained mute, in an attitude of profound melancholy. +An eloquent interchange of glances had passed between +him and Eleanor, communicating to each the anxious state of +the other's feelings.</p> + +<p>At this crisis the door was suddenly opened, and old Agnes, +Lady Rookwood's aged attendant, rushed into the room, and +sank upon her knees on the floor, her limbs shaking, her teeth +chattering, and every feature expressive of intense terror. +Ranulph went instantly towards her to demand the cause of +her alarm.</p> + +<p>"No, let me pray," cried Agnes, as he took her hand in +the attempt to raise her; "let me pray while there is yet +time—let the worthy doctor pray beside me. Pray for an +overladen soul, sir; pray heartily, as you would hope for mercy +yourself. Ah! little know the righteous of the terrors of those +that are beyond the pale of mercy. The Lord pardon me +my iniquities, and absolve <i>her</i>."</p> + +<p>"Whom do you mean?" asked Ranulph, in agitation. "You +do not allude to my mother?"</p> + +<p>"You have no longer a mother, young man," said Agnes, +solemnly.</p> + +<p>"What!" exclaimed Ranulph, terror-stricken; "is she +dead?"</p> + +<p>"She is gone."</p> + +<p>"Gone! How? Whither?" exclaimed all, their amazement +increasing each instant at the terror of the old woman, +and the apparently terrible occasion of it.</p> + +<p>"Speak!" exclaimed Ranulph; "but why do I loiter? my +mother, perchance, is dying—let me go."</p> + +<p>The old woman maintained her clutching grasp, which was +strong and convulsive as that of one struggling betwixt life and +death. "It's of no use, I tell you; it's all over," said she—"the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[457]</a></span> +dead are come—the dead are come—and she is +gone."</p> + +<p>"Whither?—whither?"</p> + +<p>"To the grave—to the tomb," said Agnes, in a deep and +hollow tone, and with a look that froze Ranulph's soul. +"Listen to me, Ranulph Rookwood, my child, my nursling—listen +while I <i>can</i> speak. We were alone, your mother and I, +after that scene between you; after the dark denunciations +she had heaped upon the dead, when I heard a low and +gasping kind of sob, and there I saw your mother staring +wildly upon the vacancy, as if she saw that of which I dare +not think."</p> + +<p>"What think you she beheld?" asked Ranulph, quaking +with apprehension.</p> + +<p>"That which had been your father," returned Agnes, in a +hollow tone. "Don't doubt me, sir—you'll find the truth of +what I say anon. I am sure he was there. There was a +thrilling, speechless horror in the very sight of her countenance +that froze my old blood to ice—to the ice in which 'tis +now—ough! ough! Well, at length she arose, with her eyes +still fixed, and passed through the paneled door without a +word. She is gone!"</p> + +<p>"What madness is this?" cried Ranulph. "Let me go, +woman—'tis that ruffian in disguise—she may be murdered."</p> + +<p>"No, no," shrieked Agnes; "it was no disguise. She is +gone, I tell you—the room was empty, all the rooms were +empty—the passage was void—through the door they went +together—silently, silently—ghostlike, slow. Ha! that tomb—they +are there together now—he has her in his arms—see, they +are here—they glide through the door—do you not see them +now? Did I not speak the truth? She is dead—ha, ha!" +And with a frantic and bewildering laugh the old woman fell +upon her face.</p> + +<p>Ranulph raised her from the floor; but the shock of what +she had beheld had been too much for her. She was dead!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[458]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV5" id="CHAPTER_IV5"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>THE DOWER OF SYBIL</h3> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 25em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Card.</i> Now art thou come? Thou look'st ghastly;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">There sits in thy face some great determination,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Mixed with some fear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Bos.</i> Thus it lightens into action:<br /></span> +<span class="i3">I am come to kill thee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rgt"><i>Duchess of Malfy.</i></p></div> + + +<p>Ranulph Rookwood was for some moments so much stunned +by the ghastly fate of Agnes, connected, as it appeared to be, +with a supernatural summons similar to that which he imagined +he had himself received, that he was incapable of stirring +from the spot, or removing his gaze from the rigid features +of the corpse, which, even in death, wore the strong impress +of horror and despair. Through life he knew that Agnes, his +own nurse, had been his mother's constant and faithful attendant; +the unhesitating agent of her schemes, and it was to be +feared, from the remorse she had exhibited, the participator +of her crimes; and Ranulph felt, he knew not why, that in +having witnessed her terrible end, he beheld the ultimate +condition of his own parent. Conquering, not without great +effort, the horror which had riveted him to the spot, he turned +to look towards Eleanor. She had sunk upon a chair, a +silent witness of the scene, Mrs. Mowbray and Dr. Small +having, upon the first alarm given by Agnes respecting Lady +Rookwood's departure from the house quitted the room to +ascertain the truth of her statement. Ranulph immediately +flew to Eleanor.</p> + +<p>"Ranulph," said she, though almost overcome by her alarm, +"stay not an instant here with me. I am sure, from that +poor woman's dreadful death, that something terrible has occurred,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[459]</a></span> +perhaps to Lady Rookwood. Go to her chamber. +Tarry not, I entreat of you."</p> + +<p>"But will you, can you remain here alone with that body?" +asked Ranulph.</p> + +<p>"I shall not be alone. Handassah is within call—nay, she +is here. Oh, what an eve of our espousals has this been, +dear Ranulph. Our whole life is a troubled volume, of which +each successive leaf grows darker. Fate is opposed to us. +It is useless to contend with our destiny. I fear we shall +never be united."</p> + +<p>"Dismiss me not with words like those, dear Eleanor," +returned Ranulph. "Fate cannot have greater woes in store for +us than those by which we are now opposed. Let us hope +that we are now at that point whence all must brighten. +Once possessed of you, assured of thus much happiness, I +would set even fate at defiance. And you will be mine to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Ranulph, dear Ranulph, your suit at this moment is desperate. +I dare not, cannot pledge myself. You yourself +heard, even now, my mother's sentiments, and I cannot marry +without her consent."</p> + +<p>"Your mother, like my own, regards not the feelings of her +children. Forgive my boldness, Eleanor; forgive me if I linger +now, when duty calls me hence; but I cannot tear myself +away. Your mother may return—my hopes be crushed; for +even your love for me seems annihilated in her presence."</p> + +<p>"Ranulph, your vehemence terrifies me," rejoined Eleanor. +"I implore you, by the tender affection which you know I bear +you, not to urge me further at this moment. Recall your +firmer feelings, and obtain some mastery over yourself. I repeat, +I am yours only, if I am bride of any one. But when +our union can take place rests not with myself. And now, I +entreat of you, leave me."</p> + +<p>"You are mine," said Ranulph, with fervor; "mine only."</p> + +<p>"Yours only," replied Eleanor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[460]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Be this the earnest of my happiness!" exclaimed Ranulph, +imprinting a long and impassioned kiss upon her lips.</p> + +<p>The lovers were startled from their embrace by a profound +sigh; it proceeded from Handassah, who, unbidden, had replaced +the picture of the Lady Eleanor upon its frame. The +augury seemed sinister. Every one who has gazed steadfastly +upon a portrait must have noticed the peculiar and lifelike +character which, under certain aspects, the eyes will +assume. Seen by the imperfect light upon the table, the +whole character of the countenance of the Lady Eleanor +seemed changed; the features appeared to be stamped with +melancholy, and the eyes to be fixed with pitying tenderness +upon her descendants. Both gazed at each other and at the +picture, struck with the same sentiment of undefined awe. +Beside them stood the dark figure of the gipsy girl, watching, +with ill-concealed satisfaction, the effect of her handiwork. +Ranulph was aroused from his abstraction by hearing a loud +outcry in Mrs. Mowbray's voice. Hastily committing Eleanor +to the care of her attendant, he left the room. Handassah +followed him to the door, closed it after him, and then locked +it within side. This done, she walked back hastily towards +Eleanor, exclaiming, in a tone of exultation, "You have parted +with him forever."</p> + +<p>"What mean you, girl?" cried Eleanor, alarmed at her +manner. "Why have you fastened the door? Open it, I +command you."</p> + +<p>"Command <i>me</i>!" laughed Handassah, scornfully. "What +if I refuse your mandate? What, if, in my turn, I bid <i>you</i> +obey <i>me</i>? I never owned but one mistress. If I have bowed +my neck to you for a time, 'twas to fulfil her dying wishes. If +I have submitted to your control, it was to accomplish what I +have now accomplished. Your oath! Remember your oath. +The hour is come for its fulfilment."</p> + +<p>With these words Handassah clapped her hands. A panel +in the wall opened, and Luke stood suddenly before them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[461]</a></span> +Silently and with stern deliberation he strode towards Eleanor, +and seizing one of her hands, drew her forcibly towards him. +Eleanor resisted not; she had not the power; neither did she +scream, for so paralyzing was her terror, that for the moment +it took away all power of utterance. Luke neither stirred nor +spoke, but, still maintaining his hold, gazed searchingly upon +her features, while Eleanor, as if spell-bound, could not withdraw +her eyes from him. Nothing more terribly impressive +could be conceived than Luke's whole appearance. Harassed +and exhausted by the life he had recently led; deprived +almost of natural rest; goaded by remorse, his frame was +almost worn to the bone, while his countenance, once dark +and swarthy, was now blanched and colorless as marble. This +pallid and deathlike hue was, in all probability, owing to the +loss of blood he had sustained from the wound inflicted by +Major Mowbray, with the stains of which his apparel was dyed; +for, though staunched, the effusion had been sufficient to cause +great faintness. His dark eyes blazed with their wonted fire—nay, +they looked darker and larger from his exceeding paleness, +and such intense mental and bodily suffering was imprinted upon +his countenance, that, despite its fierceness and desperation, +few could have regarded him without sympathy. Real desperation +has so much of agony in its character, that no one can witness +it unmoved. His garb was not that in which the reader +first beheld him, but a rich, dark, simple suit of velvet, corresponding +more with his real rank in life than his former peasant's +attire; but it was disordered by his recent conflict, and stained +with bloody testimonials of the fray; while his long, sable +curls, once his pride and ornament, now hung in intertangled +elf-locks, like a coil of wreathed water-snakes. Even in her +terror, as she dwelt upon his noble features, Eleanor could not +help admitting that she beheld the undoubted descendant, +and the living likeness of the handsomest and most distinguished +of her house—the profligate and criminal Sir +Reginald. As her eye, mechanically following this train of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[462]</a></span> +thought, wandered for an instant to the haughty portraiture of +Sir Reginald, which formed part of the family pictures, and +thence to those of his unfortunate lady, she was struck with +the fancy that, by some terrible fatality, the tragic horrors of +bygone days were to be again enacted in their persons, and +that they were in some way strangely identified with their +unfortunate progenitors. So forcibly was this idea impressed +upon her features that Luke, who had followed the direction of +her glances, became instantly aware of it. Drawing her nearer +to the portrait of the Lady Eleanor, he traced the resemblance +in mute wonder; thence, turning towards that of Sir Reginald, +he proudly exclaimed: "You doubted once my lineage, +maiden—can you gaze on those features, which would almost +seem to be a reflection of mine own, and longer hesitate +whose descendant I am? I glory in my likeness. There is a +wild delight in setting human emotions at naught, which he +was said to feel—which I feel now. Within these halls I seem +to breathe an atmosphere congenial to me. I visit what I oft +have visited in my dreams; or as in a state of pre-existence. +Methinks, as I gaze on you, I could almost deem myself Sir +Reginald, and you his bride, the Lady Eleanor. Our fates were +parallel: <i>she</i> was united to her lord by ties of hatred—by a +<i>vow</i>—<i>a bridal vow</i>! So are you to me. And she could ne'er +escape him—could ne'er throw off her bondage—nor shall +you. I claim the fulfilment of <i>your</i> oath; you are <i>mine</i>."</p> + +<p>"Never, never!" shrieked Eleanor, struggling to disengage +herself. But Luke laughed at her feeble efforts. Handassah +stood by, a passive spectatress of the scene, with her arms +folded upon her bosom.</p> + +<p>"You refuse compliance," said Luke, scornfully. "Have +you no hopes of Heaven, no fears of perdition, that you dare +to violate your vow? Bethink you of the awful nature of that +obligation; of the life that was laid down to purchase it; of +the blood which will cry out for vengeance 'gainst the <i>murderess</i>, +should you hesitate. By that blood-cemented sacrament, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[463]</a></span> +claim you as my own. You are mine." And he dragged her +towards the opening.</p> + +<p>Eleanor uttered a long and terrific scream.</p> + +<p>"Be silent, on your life," added he, searching for the dagger +given to him by Alan Rookwood, when, as his hand sought the +weapon, Eleanor escaped from his grasp, and fled towards the +door. But Handassah had anticipated her intention. The +key was withdrawn from the lock, and the wretched maiden +vainly tried to open it.</p> + +<p>At this instant Turpin appeared at the sliding panel.</p> + +<p>"Quick, quick!" cried he, impatiently—"despatch, in the +devil's name. The house is alarmed. I hear young Ranulph's +voice in the gallery."</p> + +<p>"Ranulph!" shrieked Eleanor—"then I am saved," and +she redoubled her outcries for assistance.</p> + +<p>Luke again seized his victim. Her hands clutched so convulsively +fast in her despairing energy against the handle of +the door that he could not tear her thence. By this time +Ranulph Rookwood, who had caught her reiterated screams +for help, was at the entrance. He heard her struggles; he +heard Luke's threats—his mockery—his derisive laughter—but +vainly, vainly did he attempt to force it open. It was of +the strongest oak, and the bolts resisted all his efforts. A +board alone divided him from his mistress. He could hear +her sobs and gasps. He saw, from the action of the handle, +with what tenacity she clung to it; and, stung to frenzy by +the sight, he hurled himself against the sturdy plank, but all in +vain. At length the handle was still. There was a heavy fall +upon the floor—a stifled scream—and a sound as of a body +being dragged along. The thought was madness.</p> + +<p>"To the panel! to the panel!" cried a voice—it was that +of Turpin—from within.</p> + +<p>"The panel!—ha!" echoed Ranulph, with a sudden gleam +of hope. "I may yet save her." And he darted along the +corridor with the swiftness of thought.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[464]</a></span></p> + +<p>Luke, meanwhile, had for some minutes fruitlessly exhausted +all his force to drag Eleanor from the door. Despair gave +her strength; she clutched at the door; but she felt her +strength failing her—her grasp was relaxing. And then the +maddening thought that she would be shortly his—that he +would slay her—while the idea that Ranulph was so near, and +yet unable to protect her, added gall even to her bitterness. +With savage delight Luke exulted in the lovers' tortures. He +heard Ranulph's ineffectual attempts; he heard his groans; +he heard their mutual cries. Inflamed by jealousy, he triumphed +in his power of vengeance, and even prolonged the +torture which accident had given him the means of inflicting. +He stood like the inquisitor who marks his victim's anguish +on the rack, and calculates his powers of further endurance. +But he could no longer dally, even with this horrible gratification. +His companion grew impatient. Eleanor's fair +long tresses had escaped from their confinement in the +struggle, and fell down her neck in disorder. Twining +his fingers amidst its folds, Luke dragged her backwards +from her hold, and, incapable of further resistance, her +strength completely exhausted, the wretched girl fell to the +ground.</p> + +<p>Luke now raised her almost inanimate form in his arms, +and had nigh reached the aperture, when a crash was heard in +the panel opposite to that by which he was about to escape, +and communicating with a further apartment. It was thrown +open, and Ranulph Rookwood presented himself at the narrow +partition. An exclamation of joy, that he was yet in time, +escaped his lips; and he was about to clear the partition at a +bound, and to precipitate himself upon Luke, when, as suddenly +as his own action, was the person of the unfortunate +Mr. Coates wedged into the aperture.</p> + +<p>"Traitor!" cried Ranulph, regarding Coates with concentrated +fury, "dare you to oppose me?—hence! or, by Heaven, +I will cut you down!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[465]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Tis impossible," ejaculated the attorney. "For your +own sake, Sir Ranulph—for my sake—I entreat—implore of +you—not to attempt to pass this way. Try the other door."</p> + +<p>Ranulph said no more. He passed his sword through the +body of the miserable attorney, who, with a deep groan, fell. +The only obstacle to his passage being thus removed, he at +once leaped into the room.</p> + +<p>The brothers were now confronted, together, but little of +brotherly love mingled with the glances which they threw upon +each other. Ranulph's gentle, but withal enthusiastic temperament, +had kindled, under his present excitement, like flax +at the sudden approach of flame. He was wild with frenzy. +Luke was calmer, but his fury was deadly and inextinguishable. +The meeting was terrible on both sides.</p> + +<p>With one arm Luke enfolded Eleanor, with the other he +uplifted the dagger. Its point was towards her bosom. +Scowling grim defiance at Ranulph, he exclaimed, in a determined +tone, "Advance a footstep, and my dagger descends +into her heart."</p> + +<p>Ranulph hesitated, uncertain how to act; foaming with +rage, yet trembling with apprehension.</p> + +<p>"Ranulph," gasped Eleanor, "life without you were valueless. +Advance—avenge me!"</p> + +<p>Ranulph still hesitated. He could not, by any act of his +own, compromise Eleanor's safety.</p> + +<p>Luke saw his advantage, and was not slow to profit by it. +"You seal her destruction if you stir," said he.</p> + +<p>"Villain," returned Ranulph, between his ground teeth, and +with difficulty commanding sufficient coolness to speak with +deliberation, "you perceive your power. Injure her, and +nothing earthly shall protect you. Free her, and take your life +and liberty; nay, reward if you will. You cannot otherwise +escape me."</p> + +<p>"Escape you!" laughed Luke, disdainfully. "Stand aside, +and let me pass. Beware," added he, sternly, "how you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[466]</a></span> +oppose me. I would not have a brother's blood upon my +soul."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," cried Ranulph; "but you pass not." And he +placed himself full in Luke's path.</p> + +<p>Luke, however, steadily moved forward, holding Eleanor +between himself and Ranulph, so as to shield his own person; +but, fancying he saw an opportunity of dealing a blow without +injury to his mistress, the latter was about to hazard the +thrust, when his arms were seized behind, and he was rendered +powerless.</p> + +<p>"Lost, lost," groaned he; "she is lost to me forever!"</p> + +<p>"I fear that's but too true," said Turpin, for it was the +highwayman whose grasp confined Ranulph.</p> + +<p>"Must I see her borne away before my eyes?" cried Ranulph. +"Release me—set me free!"</p> + +<p>"Quite impossible at present," returned Dick. "Mount +and away, Sir Luke," continued he; "never mind me. Leave +me to shift for myself."</p> + +<p>"Eleanor!" cried Ranulph, as she passed close by his +side.</p> + +<p>"Ranulph!" shrieked Eleanor, with a loud scream, recalled +to consciousness by his voice, "farewell for ever."</p> + +<p>"Ay, for ever," responded Luke, triumphantly. "You +meet no more on earth."</p> + +<p>He was about to pass through the panel, when Eleanor +exerted all her remaining strength in a last futile attempt +at liberation. In the struggle, a packet fell from Luke's +bosom.</p> + +<p>Handassah stooped to pick it up.</p> + +<p>"From Sybil!" exclaimed she, glancing at the superscription.</p> + +<p>"Remember my promise to old Barbara," roared Dick, who +had some curiosity, as the reader knows, to learn what the +package contained. "The time is arrived. Eleanor is in your +power—in your presence."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[467]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Give me the packet," said Luke, resigning Eleanor for the +instant to Handassah's custody—"take the steel, and grasp +her firmly."</p> + +<p>Handassah, who, though slight of figure, was of singular +personal strength, twined her arms about Miss Mowbray in +such a manner as to preclude all possibility of motion.</p> + +<p>Luke tore open the package. It was a box carefully +enclosed in several folds of linen, and lastly within a sheet of +paper, on which were inscribed these words:</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap"><big>The Dower of Sybil</big></span></p> + +<p>Hastily, and with much curiosity, Luke raised the lid of the +box. It contained one long silken tress of blackest hair enviously +braided. It was Sybil's. His first impulse was to cast +it from him; his next, reproachfully to raise it to his lips. He +started as if a snake had stung him.</p> + +<p>At this moment a loud clamor was heard in the gallery. In +the next, the door was assailed by violent strokes, evidently +proceeding from some weighty instrument, impelled by the +united strength of several assailants.</p> + +<p>The voice of Turpin rose above the deafening din. "A +bullet for the first who enters," shouted he. "Quick, Sir +Luke, and the prize is safe—away, and——"</p> + +<p>But as he seconded his exhortation with a glance at Luke, +he broke off the half-uttered sentence, and started with horror +and amazement. Ere the cause of his alarm could be expressed, +the door was burst open, and a crowd of domestics, +headed by Major Mowbray and Titus Tyrconnel, rushed into +the room.</p> + +<p>"Nay, then, the game's up!" exclaimed Dick; "I have +done with Rookwood." And, springing through the panel, he +was seen no more.</p> + +<p>When the newcomers first looked round, they could perceive +only two figures besides themselves—those of the two lovers—Eleanor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[468]</a></span> +having sunk pale, exhausted, and almost senseless, +into the arms of Ranulph. Presently, however, a ghastly +object attracted their attention. All rushed towards it—all +recoiled, as soon as they discovered that it was the lifeless +body of Luke Rookwood. His limbs were stiff, like those of +a corpse which has for hours been such; his eyes protruded +from their sockets; his face was livid and blotched. All bespoke, +with terrible certainty, the efficacy of the poison, and +the full accomplishment of Barbara's revenge.</p> + +<p>Handassah was gone. Probably she had escaped ere Turpin +fled. At all events, she was heard of no more at Rookwood.</p> + +<p>It required little to recall the senses of Eleanor. Shortly +she revived, and as she gazed around, and became conscious +of her escape, she uttered exclamations of thanksgiving, and +sank into the embraces of her brother.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Mrs. Mowbray and Dr. Small had joined the +assemblage.</p> + +<p>The worthy doctor had been full of alarm; but his meditated +condolences were now changed to congratulations, as he +heard the particulars of the terrible scene that had occurred, +and of Eleanor's singular and almost providential deliverance.</p> + +<p>"After what has befallen, madam," said the doctor to Mrs. +Mowbray, slightly coughing, "you can no longer raise any +objection to a certain union, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I will answer for my mother in that particular," said Major +Mowbray, stepping forward.</p> + +<p>"She will answer for herself, my son," said Mrs. Mowbray. +"The match has her full and entire consent. But to what am +I to attribute the unexpected happiness of your return?"</p> + +<p>"To a chain of singular circumstances," replied the Major, +"which I will hereafter detail to you. Suffice it to say, that but +for this gentleman's fortunate arrival," added he, looking at +Titus Tyrconnel, "at the hut on Thorne Waste, I might have +been detained a prisoner, without <i>parole</i>, and, what is worse, +without provision perhaps for days; and to add to my distress,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[469]</a></span> +fully acquainted with the meditated abduction of my sister. +It was excessively lucky for me, Mr. Tyrconnel, that you +happened to pass that way, and for poor Paterson likewise."</p> + +<p>"Arrah, by my sowl, major, and you may say that with +safety; and it was particularly fortunate that we stumbled +upon the tits in the cellar, or we'd never have been here just +in the nick of it. I begin to think we've lost all chance of +taking Dick Turpin this time. He's got clean away."</p> + +<p>"I am not sorry for his escape," said the major. "He's a +brave fellow; and I respect courage wherever I find it, even +in a highwayman. I should be sorry to appear as a witness +against him; and I trust it will never be my fate to do +so."</p> + +<p>We shall not pause to describe the affectionate meeting +which now ensued between the brother and sister—the congratulations +upon Eleanor's escape from peril, intermingled +with the tenderest embraces, and the warmest thanks offered +to Ranulph for his gallant service. "She is yours, my dear +boy," said the major; "and though you are a Rookwood, and +she bears the ill-fated name of Eleanor, I predict that, contrary +to the usual custom of our families in such cases, all your +misfortunes will have occurred <i>before</i> marriage."</p> + +<p>"There is only one thing," said Small, with a very peculiar +expression, which might almost be construed into serio-comic, +could we suspect the benevolent doctor of any such waggery, +"that can possibly throw a shade over our present felicity. +Lady Rookwood is not to be found."</p> + +<p>"My poor mother," said Ranulph, starting.</p> + +<p>"Make yourself easy," said the doctor; "I doubt not we +shall hear of her to-morrow. My only apprehension," added +he, half aside, "is, that she may be heard of before."</p> + +<p>"One other circumstance afflicts me," said Ranulph. "Poor +Mr. Coates!"</p> + +<p>"What's that you say of Mr. Coates, Sir Ranulph?" +exclaimed Titus.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">[470]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I fear he was killed in the recent affray," said Ranulph. +"Let some one search for the body."</p> + +<p>"Kilt!" echoed Titus. "Is it kilt that Mr. Coates is? +Ah! <i>ullagone</i>, and is it over with him entirely? Is he gone +to rejoin his father, the thief-taker? Bring me to his remains."</p> + +<p>"He will bring them to you himself," said the attorney, +stepping forward. "Luckily, Sir Ranulph," said the incurable +punster, "it was merely the <i>outer coats</i> that your sword passed +through; the <i>inner</i> remains uninjured, so that you did not act +as my <i>conveyancer</i> to eternity. Body o' me! I've as many +lives as a cat—ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>Ranulph welcomed the facetious man of law with no little +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>We think it unnecessary to enter into further detail. Another +chamber was prepared for Eleanor's reception, to which she +was almost immediately transported. The remains of the +once fierce and haughty Luke, now stiff and stark, but still +wearing, even in death, their proud character, were placed +upon the self-same bier, and covered with the self-same pall +which, but a week ago, had furnished forth his father's funeral. +And as the domestics crowded round the corpse, there was +not one of them but commented upon his startling resemblance +to his grandsire, Sir Reginald; nor, amongst the superstitious, +was the falling of the fatal bough forgotten.</p> + +<p>Tranquillity was at length restored at the hall. Throughout +the night and during the next day, Ranulph made every search +for his mother, but no tidings could be learned of her. Seriously +alarmed, he then caused more strict and general inquiry +to be instituted, but with like unsuccessful effect. It was not, +indeed, till some years afterwards that her fate was ascertained.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[471]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V5" id="CHAPTER_V5"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>THE SARCOPHAGUS</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="center">So now 'tis ended, like an old wife's story.—<span class="smcap">Webster.</span></p></div> + + +<p>Notwithstanding the obscurity which hung over the fate of +Lady Rookwood, the celebration of the nuptials of Sir Ranulph +and Eleanor was not long delayed; the ceremony took place +at the parish church, and the worthy vicar officiated upon the +occasion. It was a joyous sight to all who witnessed it, and +not few were they who did so, for the whole neighborhood +was bidden to the festival. The old avenue was thronged +with bright and beaming faces, rustic maidens decked out in +ribbons of many-colored splendor, and stout youths in their +best holiday trim; nor was the lusty yeoman and his buxom +spouse—nor yet the patriarch of the village, nor prattling +child, wanting. Even the ancestral rooks seemed to participate +in the universal merriment, and returned, from their +eyries, a hoarse greeting, like a lusty chorus of laughter, to the +frolic train. The churchyard path was strewn with flowers—the +church itself a complete garland. Never was there seen a +blither wedding: the sun smiled upon the bride—accounted a +fortunate omen, as dark lowering skies and stormy weather had, +within the memory of the oldest of the tenantry, inauspiciously +ushered in all former espousals. The bride had recovered her +bloom and beauty, while the melancholy which had seemingly +settled for ever upon the open brow of the bridegroom, had now +given place to a pensive shade that only added interest to his +expressive features; and, as in simple state, after the completion +of the sacred rites, the youthful pair walked, arm in +arm, amongst their thronging and admiring tenants towards +the Hall, many a fervent prayer was breathed that the curse of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">[472]</a></span> +the house of Rookwood might be averted from their heads; +and, not to leave a doubt upon the subject, we can add that +these aspirations were not in vain, but that the day, which +dawned so brightly, was one of serene and unclouded happiness +to its close.</p> + +<p>After the ceremonial, the day was devoted to festivity. +Crowded with company, from the ample hall to the kitchen +ingle, the old mansion could scarce contain its numerous +guests, while the walls resounded with hearty peals of laughter, +to which they had been long unaccustomed. The tables +groaned beneath the lordly baron of beef, the weighty chine, +the castled pasty flanked on the one hand with neat's tongue, +and on the other defended by a mountainous ham, an excellent +<i>pièce de résistance</i>, and every other substantial appliance of +ancient hospitality. Barrels of mighty ale were broached, and +their nut-brown contents widely distributed, and the health of +the bride and bridegroom was enthusiastically drunk in a +brimming wassail cup of spicy wine with floating toast. Titus +Tyrconnel acted as master of the ceremonies, and was, Mr. +Coates declared, "<i>quite in his element</i>." So much was he elated, +that he ventured to cut some of his old jokes upon the vicar, +and, strange to say, without incurring the resentment of Small.</p> + +<p>To retrace the darker course of our narrative, we must state +that some weeks before this happy event the remains of the +unfortunate Sir Luke Rookwood had been gathered to those +of his fathers. The document that attested his legitimacy +being found upon his person, the claims denied to him in life +were conceded in death; and he was interred, with all the +pomp and peculiar solemnity proper to one of the house, +within the tomb of his ancestry.</p> + +<p>It was then that a discovery was made respecting Alan +Rookwood, in order to explain which we must again revert to +the night of the meditated <i>enlèvement</i> of Eleanor.</p> + +<p>After quitting his grandson in the avenue, Alan shaped his +course among the fields in the direction to the church. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[473]</a></span> +sought his own humble, but now deserted dwelling. The door +had been forced; some of its meagre furniture was removed; +and the dog, his sole companion, had fled. "Poor Mole!" +said he, "thou hast found, I trust, a better master." And +having possessed himself of what he came in search—namely, +a bunch of keys and his lantern, deposited in an out-of-the-way +cupboard, that had escaped notice, he quickly departed.</p> + +<p>He was once more within the churchyard; once more upon +that awful stage whereon he had chosen to enact, for a long +season, his late fantastical character; and he gazed upon the +church tower, glistening in the moonshine, the green and +undulating hillocks, the "chequered cross-sticks," the clustered +headstones, and the black and portentous yew-trees, as upon +"old familiar faces." He mused, for a few moments, upon +the scene, apparently with deep interest. He then walked +beneath the shadows of one of the yews, chanting an odd +stanza or so of one of his wild staves, wrapped the while, it +would seem, in affectionate contemplation of the subject-matter +of his song:</p> + + +<p class="hd1">THE CHURCHYARD YEW</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 22em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">—— Metuendaque succo<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Taxus.<br /></span> +<span class="i16"><span class="smcap">Statius</span>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A noxious tree is the churchyard yew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if from the dead its sap it drew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark are its branches, and dismal to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like plumes at Death's latest solemnity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spectral and jagged, and black as the wings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which some spirit of ill o'er a sepulchre flings:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! a terrible tree is the churchyard yew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like it is nothing so grimly to view.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet this baleful tree hath a core so sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can nought so tough in the grove be found;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From it were fashioned brave English bows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The boast of our isle, and the dread of its foes.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[474]</a></span> +<span class="i0">For our sturdy sires cut their stoutest staves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the branch that hung o'er their fathers' graves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though it be dreary and dismal to view,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Staunch at the heart is the churchyard yew.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>His ditty concluded, Alan entered the churchyard, taking +care to leave the door slightly ajar, in order to facilitate his +grandson's entrance. For an instant he lingered in the chancel. +The yellow moonlight fell upon the monuments of +his race; and, directed by the instinct of hate, Alan's eye +rested upon the gilded entablature of his perfidious brother, +Reginald, and, muttering curses, "not loud but deep," he +passed on. Having lighted his lantern in no tranquil mood, +he descended into the vault, observing a similar caution with +respect to the portal of the cemetery, which he left partially +unclosed, with the key in the lock. Here he resolved to abide +Luke's coming. The reader knows what probability there was +of his expectations being realized.</p> + +<p>For a while he paced the tomb, wrapped in gloomy meditation, +and pondering, it might be, upon the result of Luke's +expedition, and the fulfilment of his own dark schemes, scowling +from time to time beneath his bent eyebrows, counting the +grim array of coffins, and noticing, with something like satisfaction, +that the shell which contained the remains of his daughter +had been restored to its former position. He then +bethought him of Father Checkley's midnight intrusion upon +his conference with Luke, and their apprehension of a supernatural +visitation, and his curiosity was stimulated to ascertain +by what means the priest had gained admission to the spot +unperceived and unheard. He resolved to sound the floor, +and see whether any secret entrance existed; and hollowly +and dully did the hard flagging return the stroke of his heel as +he pursued his scrutiny. At length the metallic ringing of an +iron plate, immediately behind the marble effigy of Sir Ranulph, +resolved the point. There it was that the priest had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">[475]</a></span> +found access to the vault; but Alan's disappointment was excessive, +when he discovered that the plate was fastened on the +underside, and all communication thence with the churchyard, +or to wherever else it might conduct him, cut off: but the +present was not the season for further investigation, and tolerably +pleased with the discovery he had already made, he +returned to his silent march round the sepulchre.</p> + +<p>At length a sound, like the sudden shutting of the church +door, broke upon the profound stillness of the holy edifice. +In the hush that succeeded, a footstep was distinctly heard +threading the aisle.</p> + +<p>"He comes—he comes!" exclaimed Alan, joyfully; adding, +an instant after, in an altered voice, "but he comes +alone."</p> + +<p>The footstep drew near to the mouth of the vault—it was +upon the stairs. Alan stepped forward to greet, as he supposed, +his grandson, but started back in astonishment and dismay +as he encountered in his stead Lady Rookwood. Alan +retreated, while the lady advanced, swinging the iron door +after her, which closed with a tremendous clang. Approaching +the statue of the first Sir Ranulph, she paused, and Alan then +remarked the singular and terrible expression of her eyes, +which appeared to be fixed upon the statue, or upon some invisible +object near it. There was something in her whole +attitude and manner calculated to impress the deepest terror +on the beholder. And Alan gazed upon her with an awe +which momently increased. Lady Rookwood's bearing was as +proud and erect as we have formerly described it to have been—her +brow was haughtily bent—her chiselled lip as disdainfully +curled; but the staring, changeless eye, and the deep-heaved +sob which occasionally escaped her, betrayed how +much she was under the influence of mortal terror. Alan +watched her in amazement. He knew not how the scene was +likely to terminate, nor what could have induced her to visit +this ghostly spot at such an hour, and alone; but he resolved<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476">[476]</a></span> +to abide the issue in silence—profound as her own. After a +time, however, his impatience got the better of his fears and +scruples, and he spoke.</p> + +<p>"What doth Lady Rookwood in the abode of the dead?" +asked he, at length.</p> + +<p>She started at the sound of his voice, but still kept her eye +fixed upon the vacancy.</p> + +<p>"Hast thou not beckoned me hither, and am I not come?" +returned she, in a hollow tone. "And now thou asketh +wherefore I am here—I am here because, as in thy life I +feared thee not, neither in death do I fear thee. I am here +because——"</p> + +<p>"What seest thou?" interrupted Peter, with ill-suppressed +terror.</p> + +<p>"What see I—ha—ha!" shouted Lady Rookwood, amidst +discordant laughter; "that which might appal a heart less +stout than mine—a figure anguish-writhen, with veins that +glow as with a subtle and consuming flame. A substance yet +a shadow, in thy living likeness. Ha—frown if thou wilt; I +can return thy glances."</p> + +<p>"Where dost thou see this vision?" demanded Alan.</p> + +<p>"Where!" echoed Lady Rookwood, becoming for the first +time sensible of the presence of a stranger. "Ha—who are +you that question me?—what are you?—speak!"</p> + +<p>"No matter who or what I am," returned Alan, "I ask you +what you behold."</p> + +<p>"Can you see nothing?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," replied Alan.</p> + +<p>"You knew Sir Piers Rookwood?"</p> + +<p>"Is it he?" asked Alan, drawing near her.</p> + +<p>"It is," replied Lady Rookwood; "I have followed him +hither, and I will follow him whithersoever he leads me, were +it to——"</p> + +<p>"What doth he now?" asked Alan; "do you see him +still?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[477]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The figure points to that sarcophagus," returned Lady +Rookwood—"can you raise up the lid?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Alan; "my strength will not avail to lift it."</p> + +<p>"Yet let the trial be made," said Lady Rookwood; "the +figure points there still—my own arm shall aid you."</p> + +<p>Alan watched her in dumb wonder. She advanced towards +the marble monument, and beckoned him to follow. He reluctantly +complied. Without any expectation of being able to +move the ponderous lid of the sarcophagus, at Lady Rookwood's +renewed request he applied himself to the task. What +was his surprise, when, beneath their united efforts, he found +the ponderous slab slowly revolve upon its vast hinges, and, +with little further difficulty, it was completely elevated; though +it still required the exertion of all Alan's strength to prop it +open, and prevent its falling back.</p> + +<p>"What does it contain?" asked Lady Rookwood.</p> + +<p>"A warrior's ashes," returned Alan.</p> + +<p>"There is a rusty dagger upon a fold of faded linen," cried +Lady Rookwood, holding down the light.</p> + +<p>"It is the weapon with which the first dame of the house of +Rookwood was stabbed," said Alan, with a grim smile:</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 17em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Which whoso findeth in the tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall clutch until the hour of doom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when 'tis grasped by hand of clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The curse of blood shall pass away.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>So saith the rhyme. Have you seen enough?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Lady Rookwood, precipitating herself into the +marble coffin. "That weapon shall be mine."</p> + +<p>"Come forth—come forth," cried Alan. "My arm +trembles—I cannot support the lid."</p> + +<p>"I will have it, though I grasp it to eternity," shrieked +Lady Rookwood, vainly endeavoring to wrest away the dagger, +which was fastened, together with the linen upon which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[478]</a></span> +it lay, by some adhesive substance to the bottom of the +shell.</p> + +<p>At this moment Alan Rookwood happened to cast his eye +upward, and he then beheld what filled him with new terror. +The axe of the sable statue was poised above its head, as in +the act to strike him. Some secret machinery, it was evident, +existed between the sarcophagus lid and this mysterious +image. But in the first impulse of his alarm Alan abandoned +his hold of the slab, and it sunk slowly downwards. He +uttered a loud cry as it moved. Lady Rookwood heard this +cry. She raised herself at the same moment—the dagger was +in her hand—she pressed it against the lid, but its downward +force was too great to be withstood. The light was within +the sarcophagus, and Alan could discern her features. The +expression was terrible. She uttered one shriek and the lid +closed for ever.</p> + +<p>Alan was in total darkness. The light had been enclosed +with Lady Rookwood. There was something so horrible in +her probable fate, that even <i>he</i> shuddered as he thought upon +it. Exerting all his remaining strength, he essayed to raise +the lid, but now it was more firmly closed than ever. It +defied all his power. Once, for an instant, he fancied that +it yielded to his straining sinews, but it was only his hand +that slided upon the surface of the marble. It was fixed—immovable. +The sides and lid rang with the strokes which +the unfortunate lady bestowed upon them with the dagger's +point; but those sounds were not long heard. Presently all +was still; the marble ceased to vibrate with her blows. Alan +struck the lid with his knuckles, but no response was returned. +All was silent.</p> + +<p>He now turned his attention to his own situation, which +had become sufficiently alarming. An hour must have elapsed, +yet Luke had not arrived. The door of the vault was closed—the +key was in the lock, and on the outside. He was himself +a prisoner within the tomb. What if Luke should <i>not</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479">[479]</a></span> +return? What if he were slain, as it might chance, in the +enterprise? That thought flashed across his brain like an +electric shock. None knew of his retreat but his grandson. +He might perish of famine within this desolate vault.</p> + +<p>He checked this notion as soon as it was formed—it was +too dreadful to be indulged in. A thousand circumstances +might conspire to detain Luke. He was sure to come. Yet +the solitude—the darkness was awful, almost intolerable. The +dying and the dead were around him. He dared not stir.</p> + +<p>Another hour—an age it seemed to him—had passed. Still +Luke came not. Horrible forebodings crossed him; but he +would not surrender himself to them. He rose, and crawled +in the direction, as he supposed, of the door—fearful, even of +the stealthy sound of his own footsteps. He reached it, and +his heart once more throbbed with hope. He bent his ear to +the key; he drew in his breath; he listened for some sound, +but nothing was to be heard. A groan would have been almost +music in his ears.</p> + +<p>Another hour was gone! He was now a prey to the most +frightful apprehensions, agitated in turns by the wildest emotions +of rage and terror. He at one moment imagined that +Luke had abandoned him, and heaped curses upon his head; +at the next, convinced that he had fallen, he bewailed with +equal bitterness his grandson's fate and his own. He paced +the tomb like one distracted; he stamped upon the iron plate; +he smote with his hands upon the door; he shouted, and the +vault hollowly echoed his lamentations. But Time's sand ran +on, and Luke arrived not.</p> + +<p>Alan now abandoned himself wholly to despair. He could no +longer anticipate his grandson's coming, no longer hope for +deliverance. His fate was sealed. Death awaited him. He +must anticipate his slow but inevitable stroke, enduring all the +grinding horrors of starvation. The contemplation of such an +end was madness, but he was forced to contemplate it now; +and so appalling did it appear to his imagination, that he half<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_480" id="Page_480">[480]</a></span> +resolved to dash out his brains against the walls of the sepulchre, +and put an end at once to his tortures; and nothing, except a +doubt whether he might not, by imperfectly accomplishing his +purpose, increase his own suffering, prevented him from putting +this dreadful idea into execution. His dagger was gone, and he +had no other weapon. Terrors of a new kind now assailed him. +The dead, he fancied, were bursting from their coffins, and he +peopled the darkness with grisly phantoms. They were around +about him on each side, whirling and rustling, gibbering, +groaning, shrieking, laughing, and lamenting. He was stunned, +stifled. The air seemed to grow suffocating, pestilential; the +wild laughter was redoubled; the horrible troop assailed him; +they dragged him along the tomb, and amid their howls he +fell, and became insensible.</p> + +<p>When he returned to himself, it was some time before he +could collect his scattered faculties; and when the agonizing +consciousness of his terrible situation forced itself upon his +mind, he had nigh relapsed into oblivion. He arose. He +rushed towards the door; he knocked against it with his +knuckles till the blood streamed from them; he scratched +against it with his nails till they were torn off by the roots. +With insane fury he hurled himself against the iron frame; it +was in vain. Again he had recourse to the trap-door. He +searched for it; he found it. He laid himself upon the +ground. There was no interval of space in which he could +insert a finger's point. He beat it with his clenched hand; +he tore it with his teeth; he jumped upon it; he smote it +with his heel. The iron returned a sullen sound.</p> + +<p>He again essayed the lid of the sarcophagus. Despair nerved +his strength. He raised the slab a few inches. He shouted, +screamed, but no answer was returned; and again the lid +fell.</p> + +<p>"She is dead!" cried Alan. "Why have I not shared her +fate? But mine is to come. And such a death!—oh, oh!" +And, frenzied at the thought, he again hurried to the door,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">[481]</a></span> +and renewed his fruitless attempts to escape, till nature gave +way, and he sank upon the floor, groaning and exhausted.</p> + +<p>Physical suffering now began to take the place of his mental +tortures. Parched and consumed with a fierce internal fever, +he was tormented by unappeasable thirst—of all human ills +the most unendurable. His tongue was dry and dusty, his +throat inflamed; his lips had lost all moisture. He licked the +humid floor; he sought to imbibe the nitrous drops from the +walls; but, instead of allaying his thirst, they increased it. +He would have given the world, had he possessed it, for a +draught of cold spring-water. Oh, to have died with his +lips upon some bubbling fountain's marge! But to perish +thus——!</p> + +<p>Nor were the pangs of hunger wanting. He had to endure +all the horrors of famine, as well as the agonies of quenchless +thirst.</p> + +<p>In this dreadful state three days and nights passed over +Alan's fated head. Nor night nor day had he. Time, with +him, was only measured by its duration, and that seemed +interminable. Each hour added to his suffering, and brought +with it no relief. During this period of prolonged misery +reason often tottered on her throne. Sometimes he was under +the influence of the wildest passions. He dragged coffins from +their recesses, hurled them upon the ground, striving to break +them open and drag forth their loathsome contents. Upon +other occasions he would weep bitterly and wildly; and once—only +once—did he attempt to pray; but he started from his +knees with an echo of infernal laughter, as he deemed, ringing +in his ears. Then, again, would he call down imprecations +upon himself and his whole line, trampling upon the pile of +coffins he had reared; and lastly, more subdued, would creep +to the boards that contained the body of his child, kissing +them with a frantic outbreak of affection.</p> + +<p>At length he became sensible of his approaching dissolution. +To him the thought of death might well be terrible, but he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">[482]</a></span> +quailed not before it, or rather seemed, in his latest moments, +to resume all his wonted firmness of character. Gathering +together his remaining strength, he dragged himself towards +the niche wherein his brother, Sir Reginald Rookwood, was +deposited, and placing his hand upon the coffin, solemnly +exclaimed, "My curse—my dying curse—be upon thee evermore!"</p> + +<p>Falling with his face upon the coffin, Alan instantly expired. +In this attitude his remains were discovered.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LENVOY" id="LENVOY"></a>L'ENVOY</h2> + + +<p>Our tale is told. Yet, perhaps, we may be allowed to add +a few words respecting two of the subordinate characters of +our drama—melodrama we ought to say—namely Jerry Juniper +and the knight of Malta. What became of the Caper Merchant's +son after his flight from Kilburn Wells we have never +been able distinctly to ascertain. Juniper, however, would +seem to be a sort of Wandering Jew, for certain it is, that +<i>somebody very like him</i> is extant still, and to be met with +at Jerry's old haunts; indeed, we have no doubt of encountering +him at the ensuing meetings of Ascot and Hampton.</p> + +<p>As regards the knight of Malta—Knight of <i>Roads</i>—"Rhodes"—he +should have been—we are sorry to state +that the career of the Ruffler terminated in a madhouse, and +thus the poor knight became in reality a <i>Hospitaller</i>! According +to the custom observed in those establishments, the +knight was deprived of his luxuriant locks, and the loss of his +beard rendered his case incurable; but, in the mean time, the +barber of the place made his fortune by retailing the materials +of all the black wigs he could collect to the impostor's dupes.</p> + +<p>Such is the latest piece of intelligence that has reached us +of the <i>Arch-hoaxer</i> of Canterbury!</p> + +<p>Turpin—why disguise it?—was hanged at York in 1739. +His firmness deserted him not at the last. When he mounted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_483" id="Page_483">[483]</a></span> +the fatal tree his left leg trembled; he stamped it impatiently +down, and, after a brief chat with the hangman, threw himself +suddenly and resolutely from the ladder. His sufferings would +appear to have been slight: as he himself sang,</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 22em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He died, not as other men, by <i>degrees</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But <i>at once</i>, without wincing, and quite at his ease!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>We may, in some other place, lay before the reader the +particulars—and they are not incurious—of the "night before +Larry was stretched."</p> + +<p>The remains of the vagrant highwayman found a final resting-place +in the desecrated churchyard of Saint George, without +the Fishergate postern, a green and grassy cemetery, but +withal a melancholy one. A few recent tombs mark out the +spots where some of the victims of the pestilence of 1832-33 +have been interred; but we have made vain search for Turpin's +grave—unless—as is more than probable—the plain stone +with the simple initials R. T. belongs to him.</p> + +<p>The gyves by which he was fettered are still shown at York +Castle, and are of prodigious weight and strength; and though +the herculean robber is said to have moved in them with ease, +the present turnkey was scarcely able to lift the ponderous +irons. An old woman of the same city has a lock of hair, said +to have been Turpin's, which she avouches her grandfather +cut off from the body after the execution, and which the +believers look upon with great reverence. O rare Dick +Turpin!</p> + +<p>We shall, perhaps, be accused of dilating too much upon +the character of the highwayman, and we plead guilty to the +charge. But we found it impossible to avoid running a little +into extremes. Our earliest associations are connected with +sunny scenes in Cheshire, said to have been haunted by Turpin; +and with one very dear to us—from whose lips, now, alas! +silent, we have listened to many stories of his exploits—he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_484" id="Page_484">[484]</a></span> +a sort of hero. We have had a singular delight in recounting +his feats and hairbreadth escapes; and if the reader derives +only half as much pleasure from the perusal of his adventures +as we have had in narrating them, our satisfaction will be +complete. Perhaps, we may have placed him in too favorable +a point of view—and yet we know not. As upon those of +more important personages, many doubts rest upon his history. +Such as we conceive him to have been, we have drawn him—hoping +that the benevolent reader, upon finishing our Tale, will +arrive at the same conclusion; and, in the words of the +quaint old Prologue to the Prince of Prigs' Revels,</p> + +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 18em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">——————Thank that man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can make each thief a complete Roscian!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">[485]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="NOTES" id="NOTES"></a>NOTES</h2> + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> See the celebrated recipe for the Hand of Glory in "<i>Les Secrets du +Petit Albert</i>."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The seven planets, so called by Mercurius Trismegistus.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Payne Knight, the scourge of Repton and his school, speaking of +the license indulged in by the modern landscape-gardeners, thus vents +his indignation:</p> +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 26em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But here, once more, ye rural muses weep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ivy'd balustrade, and terrace steep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Walls, mellowed into harmony by time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which fantastic creepers used to climb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While statues, labyrinths, and alleys pent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within their bounds, at least were innocent!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Our modern taste—alas!—no limit knows;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>O'er hill, o'er dale, through wood and field it flows;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Spreading o'er all its unprolific spawn,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>In never-ending sheets of vapid lawn.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i9"><i>The Landscape, a didactic Poem,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i11"><i>addressed to Uvedale Price, Esq.</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Mason's English Garden.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Cowley.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Query, Damocles?—<i>Printer's Devil.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> James Hind—the "Prince of Prigs"—a royalist captain of some +distinction, was hanged, drawn, and quartered, in 1652. Some good +stories are told of him. He had the credit of robbing Cromwell, +Bradshaw, and Peters. His discourse to Peters is particularly edifying.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> See Du-Val's life by Doctor Pope, or Leigh Hunt's brilliant sketch +of him in <i>The Indicator</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> We cannot say much in favor of this worthy, whose name was +Thomas Simpson. The reason of his <i>sobriquet</i> does not appear. He +was not particularly scrupulous as to his mode of appropriation. One +of his sayings is, however, on record. He told a widow whom he +robbed, "that the end of a woman's husband begins in tears, but the +end of her tears is another husband." "Upon which," says his chronicler, +"the gentlewoman gave him about fifty guineas."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">[486]</a></span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Tom was a sprightly fellow, and carried his sprightliness to the +gallows; for just before he was turned off he kicked Mr. Smith, the +ordinary, and the hangman out of the cart—a piece of pleasantry which +created, as may be supposed, no small sensation.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Many agreeable stories are related of Holloway. His career, however, +closed with a murder. He contrived to break out of Newgate +but returned to witness the trial of one of his associates; when, upon +the attempt of a turnkey, one Richard Spurling, to seize him, Will +knocked him on the head in the presence of the whole court. For this +offence he suffered the extreme penalty of the law in 1712.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Wicks's adventures with Madame Toly are highly diverting. It +was this hero—not Turpin, as has been erroneously stated—who stopped +the celebrated Lord Mohun. Of Gettings and Grey, and "the five or +six," the less said the better.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> One of Jack's recorded <i>mots</i>. When a Bible was pressed upon his +acceptance by Mr. Wagstaff, the chaplain, Jack refused it, saying, "that +in his situation one file would be worth all the Bibles in the world." A +gentleman who visited Newgate asked him to dinner; Sheppard replied, +"that he would take an early opportunity of waiting upon him." And +we believe he kept his word.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> The word Tory, as here applied, must not be confounded with the +term of party distinction now in general use in the political world. It +simply means a thief on a grand scale, something more than "a snapper-up +of unconsidered trifles," or petty-larceny rascal. We have classical +authority for this:—<span class="smcap">Tory</span>: "An advocate for absolute monarchy; <i>also, +an Irish vagabond, robber, or rapparee</i>."—<span class="smcap">Grose's</span> <i>Dictionary</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> A trio of famous High-Tobygloaks. Swiftneck was a captain of +<i>Irish</i> dragoons, by-the-bye.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> <span class="smcap">Redmond O'Hanlon</span> was the Rob Roy of Ireland, and his adventures, +many of which are exceedingly curious, would furnish as rich +<i>materials</i> for the novelist, as they have already done for the ballad-mongers: +some of them are, however, sufficiently well narrated in a +pleasant little tome, published at Belfast, entitled <i>The History of the +Rapparees</i>. We are also in possession of a funeral discourse, preached +at the obsequies of the "noble and renowned" Henry St. John, Esq., +who was unfortunately killed by the <i>Tories</i>—the <i>Destructives</i> of those +days—in the induction to which we find some allusion to Redmond. +After describing the thriving condition of the north of Ireland, about +1680, the Rev. Lawrence Power, the author of the sermon, says, "One +mischief there was, which indeed in a great measure destroyed all, and +that was a pack of insolent bloody outlaws, whom they here call <i>Tories</i>. +These had so riveted themselves in these parts, that by the interest they +had among the natives, and some English, too, <i>to their shame be it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_487" id="Page_487">[487]</a></span> +spoken</i>, they exercise a kind of separate sovereignty in three or four +counties in the north of Ireland. <span class="smcap">Redmond O'Hanlon</span> is their chief, +and has been these many years; a cunning, dangerous fellow, who, +though proclaimed an outlaw with the rest of his crew, and sums of +money set upon their heads, yet he reigns still, and keeps all in subjection, +so far that 'tis credibly reported <i>he raises more in a year by contributions +à-la-mode de France than the king's land taxes and chimney-money +come to, and thereby is enabled to bribe clerks and officers</i>, <span class="smcapl">IF NOT THEIR +MASTERS</span>, (!) <i>and makes all too much truckle to him</i>." Agitation, it +seems, was not confined to our own days—but the "finest country in the +world" has been, and ever will be, the same. The old game is played +under a new color—the only difference being, that had Redmond lived +in our time, he would, in all probability, not only have pillaged a county, +but <i>represented</i> it in parliament. The spirit of the Rapparee is still +abroad—though we fear there is little of the <i>Tory</i> left about it. We +recommend this note to the serious consideration of the declaimers +against the sufferings of the "six millions."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Here Titus was slightly in error. He mistook the cause for the +effect. "They were called Rapparees," Mr. Malone says, "from being +armed with a half-pike, called by the Irish a <i>rapparee</i>."—<span class="smcap">Todd's +Johnson</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> <i>Tory</i>, so called from the Irish word <i>Toree</i>, give me your +money.—<span class="smcap">Todd's Johnson</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> As he was carried to the gallows, Jack played a fine tune of his own +composing on the bagpipe, which retains the name of Macpherson's +tune to this day.—<i>History of the Rapparees</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> "Notwithstanding he was so great a rogue, Delany was a handsome, +portly man, extremely diverting in company, and could behave himself +before gentlemen very agreeably. <i>He had a political genius</i>—not altogether +surprising in so eminent a <i>Tory</i>—and would have made great +proficiency in learning if he had rightly applied his time. He composed +several songs, and put tunes to them; and by his skill in music gained +the favor of some of the leading musicians in the country, who endeavored +to get him reprieved."—<i>History of the Rapparees</i>. The particulars +of the <i>Songster's</i> execution are singular:—"When he was brought into +court to receive sentence of death, the judge told him that he was +informed he should say 'that there was not a rope in Ireland sufficient +to hang him. But,' says he, 'I'll try if Kilkenny can't afford one strong +enough to do your business; and if that will not do, you shall have another, +and another.' Then he ordered the sheriff to choose a rope, and +Delany was ordered for execution the next day. The sheriff having notice +of his mother's boasting that no rope could hang her son—and pursuant +to the judge's desire—provided two ropes, but Delany broke them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_488" id="Page_488">[488]</a></span> +one after the other! The sheriff was then in a rage, and went for three +bed-cords, which he plaited threefold together, <i>and they did his business</i>! +Yet the sheriff was afraid he was not dead; and in a passion, to make +trial, stabbed him with his sword in the soles of his feet, and at last cut +the rope. After he was cut down, his body was carried into the courthouse, +where it remained in the coffin for two days, standing up, till the +judge and all the spectators were fully satisfied that he was stiff and +dead, and then permission was given to his friends to remove the corpse +and bury it."-<i>History of the Rapparees</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> Highwaymen, as contradistinguished from footpads.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Since Mr. Coates here avows himself the writer of this diatribe +against Sir Robert Walpole, attacked under the guise of <i>Turpin</i> in the +<i>Common Sense</i> of July 30, 1737, it is useless to inquire further into its +authorship. And it remains only to refer the reader to the <i>Gents. Mag.</i>, +vol. vii. p. 438, for the article above quoted; and for a reply to it from +the <i>Daily Gazetteer</i> contained in p. 499 of the same volume.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> In reference to this imaginary charm, Sir Thomas Browne observes, +in his "Vulgar Errors." "What natural effects can reasonably be expected, +when, to prevent the Ephialtes, or Nightmare, we hang a hollow +stone in our stables?" Grose also states, "that a stone with a hole in +it, hung at the bed's head, will prevent the nightmare, and is therefore +called a hag-stone." The belief in this charm still lingers in +some districts, and maintains, like the horse-shoe affixed to the barn-door, +a feeble stand against the superstition-destroying "march of intellect."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Brown's Pastorals.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> The Merry Beggars.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> The parties to be wedded find out a dead horse, or any other beast, +and standing one on the one side, and the other on the other, the patrico +bids them live together till death do them part; and so shaking hands, +the wedding dinner is kept at the next alehouse they stumble into, where +the union is nothing but knocking of cannes, and the sauce, none but +drunken brawles.—<span class="smcap">Dekkar</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> Receiver.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Memoirs, of the right villainous John Hall, the famous, and notorious +Robber, penned from his Mouth some Time before his Death, 1708.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> A famous highwayman.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> A real gentleman.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> Breeches and boots.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> Gipsy flask.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> How he exposes his pistols.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> For an account of these, see Grose. They are much too <i>gross</i> to +be set down here.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">[489]</a></span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> "The shalm, or shawm, was a wind instrument, like a pipe, with a +swelling protuberance in the middle."—<i>Earl of Northumberland's +Household Book</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> Perhaps the most whimsical laws that were ever prescribed to a gang +of thieves were those framed by William Holliday, one of the prigging +community, who was hanged in 1695: +</p><p> +Art. I. directs—That none of his company should presume to wear +shirts, upon pain of being cashiered. +</p><p> +II.—That none should lie in any other places than stables, empty houses, +or other bulks. +</p><p> +III.—That they should eat nothing but what they begged, and that +they should give away all the money they got by cleaning boots among +one another, for the good of the fraternity. +</p><p> +IV.—That they should neither learn to read nor write, that he may +have them the better under command. +</p><p> +V.—That they should appear every morning by nine, on the parade, to +receive necessary orders. +</p><p> +VI.—That none should presume to follow the scent but such as he +ordered on that party. +</p><p> +VII.—That if any one gave them shoes or stockings, they should convert +them into money to play. +</p><p> +VIII.—That they should steal nothing they could not come at, for +fear of bringing a scandal upon the company. +</p><p> +IX.—That they should cant better than the Newgate birds, pick +pockets without bungling, outlie a Quaker, outswear a lord at a gaming-table, +and brazen out all their villainies beyond an Irishman.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> Cell.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> Newgate.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> A woman whose husband has been hanged.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> A dancing-master.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> "Nothing, comrades; on, on," supposed to be addressed by a +thief to his confederates.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> Thus Victor Hugo, in "Le Dernier Jour d'un Condamné," makes +an imprisoned felon sing:</p> +<div class="cpoem" style="width: 13em;"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"J'le ferai danser une danse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Où il n'y a pas de plancher."<br /></span> +</div></div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> Thieves in prison.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> Shoplifter.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> Pickpocket.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> Handkerchiefs.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> Rings.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[490]</a></span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> To the pawnbroker.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> Snuff-boxes.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> Pickpocket.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> The two forefingers used in picking a pocket.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> Pickpocket.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> Pick a pocket.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> No inside coat-pocket; buttoned up.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> Scissors.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> Steal a pocket-book.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> Best-made clothes.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> Thief.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> With my hair dressed in the first fashion.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> With several rings on my hands.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_61_61" id="Footnote_61_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> Seals.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_62_62" id="Footnote_62_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> Gold watch.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_63_63" id="Footnote_63_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> Laced shirt.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_64_64" id="Footnote_64_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> Gentlemanlike.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_65_65" id="Footnote_65_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> Easily than forged notes could I pass.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_66_66" id="Footnote_66_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> Favorite mistress.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_67_67" id="Footnote_67_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> Police.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_68_68" id="Footnote_68_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> Taken at length.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_69_69" id="Footnote_69_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> Cast for transportation.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_70_70" id="Footnote_70_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> Fetters.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_71_71" id="Footnote_71_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> Turnkey.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_72_72" id="Footnote_72_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> Gipsy.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_73_73" id="Footnote_73_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> Pickpockets.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_74_74" id="Footnote_74_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> This song describes pretty accurately the career of an extraordinary +individual, who, in the lucid intervals of a half-crazed understanding, +imposed himself upon the credulous inhabitants of Canterbury, in the +year 1832, as a certain "<span class="smcap">Sir William Percy Honeywood Courtenay, +Knight of Malta</span>;" and contrived—for there was considerable +"method in his madness"—to support the deception during a long +period. The anachronism of his character in a tale—the data of which +is nearly a century back—will, perhaps, be overlooked, when it is considered +of how much value, in the illustration of "wise saws," are +"<i>modern instances</i>." Imposture and credulity are of all ages; and the +Courtenays of the nineteenth are rivalled by the Tofts and Andrés of +the eighteenth century. The subjoined account of the <i>soi-disant</i> <span class="smcap">Sir +William Courtenay</span> is extracted from "An Essay on his Character, +and Reflections on his Trial," published at the theatre of his exploits: +"About Michaelmas last it was rumored that an extraordinary man was +staying at the Rose Inn of this city—Canterbury—who passed under the +name of Count Rothschild, but had been recently known in London by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491">[491]</a></span> +the name of Thompson! This would have been sufficient to excite attention, +had no other incidents materially added to the excitement. +His costume and countenance denoted foreign extraction, while his +language and conversation showed that he was well acquainted with +almost every part of this kingdom. He was said to live with singular +frugality, notwithstanding abundant samples of wealth, and professions +of an almost unlimited command of money. He appeared to study +retirement, if not concealment, although subsequent events have proved +that society of every grade, beneath the middle class, is the element in +which he most freely breathes. <i>He often decked his person with a fine +suit of Italian clothing, and sometimes with the more gay and imposing +costume of the Eastern nations; yet these foreign habits were for months +scarcely visible beyond the limits of the inn of his abode, and the chapel +not far from it, in which he was accustomed to offer his Sabbath devotions.</i> +This place was the first to which he made a public and frequent resort; +and though he did not always attempt to advance towards the uppermost +seat in the synagogue, he attracted attention from the mere singularity +of his appearance. +</p><p> +"Such was the eccentric, incongruous individual who surprised our +city by proposing himself as a third candidate for its representation, and +who created an entertaining contest for the honor, long after the sitting +candidates had composed themselves to the delightful vision of an +inexpensive and unopposed return. The notion of representing the +city originated beyond all doubt in the fertile brain of the man himself. +It would seem to have been almost as sudden a thought in his mind, as +it was a sudden and surprising movement in the view of the city; nor +have we been able to ascertain whether his sojourn at the Rose was the +cause or the effect of his offering to advocate our interests in Parliament—whether +he came to the city with that high-minded purpose, or subsequently +formed the notion, when he saw, or thought he saw, an opening +for a stranger of enterprise like himself. +</p> +<hr style='width: 45%; margin: 0 auto 0;' /> +<p> +"As the county election drew on, we believe between the nomination +on Barham Downs and the voting in the cattle market of the city, the +draught of a certain handbill was sent to a printer of this city, with a +request that he would publish it without delay. Our readers will not be +surprised that he instantly declined the task; but as we have obtained +possession of the copy, and its publication can now do no injury to any +one, we entertain them with a sight of this delectable sample of Courtenay +prudence and politeness. +</p><p> +"'O yes! O yes! O yes! I, Lord Viscount William Courtenay, of +Powderham Castle, Devon, do hereby proclaim Sir Thomas Tylden, Sir<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[492]</a></span> +Brook Brydges, Sir Edward Knatchbull, and Sir William Cosway, four +cowards, unfit to represent, or to assist in returning members of Parliament +to serve the brave men of Kent. +</p><p> +"'Percy Honeywood Courtenay, of Hales and Evington Place, Kent, +and Knight of Malta. +</p><p> +"'Any gentleman desiring to know the reasons why Lord Courtenay +so publicly exposes backbiters, any man of honor shall have satisfaction +at his hands, and in a public way, according to the laws of our land—trial +by combat; when the Almighty God, the Lord of Hosts is his +name, can decide the "truth," whether it is a libel or not. I worship +truth as my God, and will die for it—and upon this we will see who is +strongest, God or man.' +</p><p> +"It is a coincidence too curious to be overlooked, that this doughty +champion of <i>truth</i> should so soon have removed himself from public +life by an act of deliberate and wanton perjury. We never read any of +his rhapsodies, periodical or occasional, till the publication of this essay +imposed the self-denying task upon us; but now we find that they +abound in strong and solemn appeals to the <i>truth</i>; in bold proclamations +that <i>truth</i> is his palladium; in evidences that he writes and raves, +that he draws his sword and clenches his fist, that he expends his property +and the property of others committed to his hands, in no cause +but that of <i>truth</i>! His famous periodical contains much vehement declamation +in defence of certain doctrines of religion, which he terms the +truth of the sublime system of Christianity, and for which alone he is +content to live, and also willing to die. All who deviate from his standard +of truth, whether theological or moral, philosophical or political, +he appears to consider as neither fit for life nor death. Now it is a +little strange, his warmest followers being witness, that such an advocate +of truth should have become the willing victim of falsehood, the +ready and eager martyr of the worst form of falsehood—perjury. +</p><p> +"The decline of his influence between the city and county elections +has been partly attributed, and not without reason, to the sudden change +in his appearance from comparative youth to advancing, if not extreme +age. <i>On the hustings of the city he shone forth in all the dazzling lustre of +an Oriental chief; and such was the effect of gay clothing on the meridian +of life, that his admirers, especially of the weaker sex, would insist upon it +that he had not passed the beautiful spring-time of May. There were, +indeed, some suspicious appearances of a near approach to forty, if not two +or three years beyond it; but these were fondly ascribed to his foreign +travels in distant and insalubrious climes; he had acquired his duskiness +of complexion, and his strength of feature and violence of gesture, and his +profusion of beard, in Egypt and Syria, in exploring the catacombs of the +one country, and bowing at the shrines of the other. On the other hand,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[493]</a></span> +the brilliancy of his eye, the melody of his voice, and the elasticity of his +muscles and limbs, were sufficient arguments in favor of his having scarcely +passed the limit that separates manhood from youth.</i> +</p><p> +"All doubts on these points were removed, when the crowd of his fair +admirers visited him at the retirement of his inn, and the intervals of +his polling. These <i>sub-Rosa</i> interviews—we allude to the name of the +inn, and not to anything like privacy there, which the very place and +number of the visitors altogether precluded—convinced them that he +was even a younger and lovelier man than his rather boisterous behavior +in the hall would allow them to hope. In fact, he was now installed +by acclamation <i>Knight of Canterbury as well as Malta, and King of Kent +as well as Jerusalem</i>! It became dangerous then to whisper a syllable +of suspicion against his wealth or rank, his wisdom or beauty; and all +who would not bow down before this golden image were deemed worthy +of no better fate than Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—to be cast +into a burning fiery furnace." +</p><p> +As a sequel to the above story, it may be added that the knight of +Malta became the inmate of a lunatic asylum; and on his liberation was +shot at the head of a band of Kentish hinds, whom he had persuaded +that he was the Messiah!</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_75_75" id="Footnote_75_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> A pipe of tobacco.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_76_76" id="Footnote_76_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> A drink composed of beer, eggs, and brandy.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_77_77" id="Footnote_77_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> The supposed malignant influence of this plant is frequently alluded +to by our elder dramatists; and with one of the greatest of them, Webster—as +might be expected from a muse revelling like a ghoul in graves +and sepulchres—it is an especial favorite. But none have plunged so +deeply into the subject as Sir Thomas Browne. He tears up the fable +root and branch. Concerning the danger ensuing from eradication of +the mandrake, the learned physician thus writes: "The last assertion +is, that there follows a hazard of life to them that pull it up, that some +evil fate pursues them, and that they live not very long hereafter. +Therefore the attempt hereof among the ancients was not in ordinary +way; but, as Pliny informeth, when they intended to take up the root +of this plant, they took the wind thereof, and with a sword describing +three circles about it, they digged it up, looking toward the west. A +conceit not only injurious unto truth and confutable by daily experience, +but somewhat derogatory unto the providence of God; that is, not only +to impose so destructive a quality on any plant, but to conceive a vegetable +whose parts are so useful unto many, should, in the only taking +up, prove mortal unto any. This were to introduce a second forbidden +fruit, and enhance the first malediction, making it not only mortal for +Adam to taste the one, but capital for his posterity to eradicate or dig +up the other."—<i>Vulgar Errors</i>, book ii. c. vi.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[494]</a></span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_78_78" id="Footnote_78_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> The moon.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_79_79" id="Footnote_79_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_79_79"><span class="label">[79]</span></a> Light.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_80_80" id="Footnote_80_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_80_80"><span class="label">[80]</span></a> Highwayman.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_81_81" id="Footnote_81_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_81_81"><span class="label">[81]</span></a> "Cherry-colored—black; there being black cherries as well +as red."—<span class="smcap">Grose.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_82_82" id="Footnote_82_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_82_82"><span class="label">[82]</span></a> Sword.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_83_83" id="Footnote_83_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_83_83"><span class="label">[83]</span></a> Pistols.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_84_84" id="Footnote_84_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_84_84"><span class="label">[84]</span></a> Highway robbery.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_85_85" id="Footnote_85_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_85_85"><span class="label">[85]</span></a> Pocket-book.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_86_86" id="Footnote_86_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_86_86"><span class="label">[86]</span></a> Money.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_87_87" id="Footnote_87_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_87_87"><span class="label">[87]</span></a> Bullets.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_88_88" id="Footnote_88_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_88_88"><span class="label">[88]</span></a> The gallows.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_89_89" id="Footnote_89_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_89_89"><span class="label">[89]</span></a> Ditto.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_90_90" id="Footnote_90_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_90_90"><span class="label">[90]</span></a> Pocket-book.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_91_91" id="Footnote_91_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_91_91"><span class="label">[91]</span></a> Inside coat-pocket.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_92_92" id="Footnote_92_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_92_92"><span class="label">[92]</span></a> A small pocket-book.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_93_93" id="Footnote_93_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_93_93"><span class="label">[93]</span></a> We have heard of a certain gentleman tobyman, we forget his +name, taking the horses from his curricle for a similar purpose, but we +own we think King's the simpler plan, and quite practicable still. A +cabriolet would be quite out of the question, but particularly easy to +<i>stop</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_94_94" id="Footnote_94_94"></a><a href="#FNanchor_94_94"><span class="label">[94]</span></a> Four celebrated highwaymen, all rejoicing in the honorable distinction +of captain.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_95_95" id="Footnote_95_95"></a><a href="#FNanchor_95_95"><span class="label">[95]</span></a> The exact spot where Turpin committed this robbery, which has +often been pointed out to us, lies in what is now a woody hollow, though +once the old road from Altringham to Knutsford skirting the rich and +sylvan domains of Dunham, and descending the hill that brings you to +the bridge crossing the little river Bollin. With some difficulty we +penetrated this ravine. It is just the place for an adventure of the +kind. A small brook wells through it; and the steep banks are overhung +with timber, and were, when we last visited the place, in April, +1834, a perfect nest of primroses and wild flowers. Hough (pronounced +Hoo) Green lies about three miles across the country—the way Turpin +rode. The old Bowling-green is one of the pleasantest inns in +Cheshire.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_96_96" id="Footnote_96_96"></a><a href="#FNanchor_96_96"><span class="label">[96]</span></a> Money.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_97_97" id="Footnote_97_97"></a><a href="#FNanchor_97_97"><span class="label">[97]</span></a> Man.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_98_98" id="Footnote_98_98"></a><a href="#FNanchor_98_98"><span class="label">[98]</span></a> Stripped.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_99_99" id="Footnote_99_99"></a><a href="#FNanchor_99_99"><span class="label">[99]</span></a> Fellow.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_100_100" id="Footnote_100_100"></a><a href="#FNanchor_100_100"><span class="label">[100]</span></a> A particular kind of pugilistic punishment.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_101_101" id="Footnote_101_101"></a><a href="#FNanchor_101_101"><span class="label">[101]</span></a> Kept each an eye upon the other.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_102_102" id="Footnote_102_102"></a><a href="#FNanchor_102_102"><span class="label">[102]</span></a> Hands.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_103_103" id="Footnote_103_103"></a><a href="#FNanchor_103_103"><span class="label">[103]</span></a> Deceive them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">[495]</a></span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_104_104" id="Footnote_104_104"></a><a href="#FNanchor_104_104"><span class="label">[104]</span></a> Accomplice.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_105_105" id="Footnote_105_105"></a><a href="#FNanchor_105_105"><span class="label">[105]</span></a> A farthing.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_106_106" id="Footnote_106_106"></a><a href="#FNanchor_106_106"><span class="label">[106]</span></a> Cards.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_107_107" id="Footnote_107_107"></a><a href="#FNanchor_107_107"><span class="label">[107]</span></a> Qy. <i>élite</i>.—<span class="smcap">Printer's Devil</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_108_108" id="Footnote_108_108"></a><a href="#FNanchor_108_108"><span class="label">[108]</span></a> Shoot him.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_109_109" id="Footnote_109_109"></a><a href="#FNanchor_109_109"><span class="label">[109]</span></a> Since the earlier editions of this Romance were published, we regret +to state—for to <i>us</i>, at least, it is matter of regret, though probably +not to the travellers along the Edgeware Road—that this gentle ascent +has been cut through, and the fair prospect from its brow utterly destroyed.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_110_110" id="Footnote_110_110"></a><a href="#FNanchor_110_110"><span class="label">[110]</span></a> This, we regret to say, is not the case. The memory of bold Will +Davies, the "<i>Golden Farmer</i>"—so named from the circumstances of +his always paying his rent in gold,—is fast declining upon his peculiar +domain, Bagshot. The inn, which once bore his name, still remains to +point out to the traveller the dangers his forefathers had to encounter +in crossing this extensive heath. Just beyond this house the common +spreads out for miles on all aides in a most gallop-inviting style; and +the passenger, as he gazes from the box of some flying coach, as we +have done, upon the gorse-covered waste, may, without much stretch +of fancy, imagine he beholds Will Davies careering like the wind over +its wild and undulating expanse. We are sorry to add that the "<i>Golden</i> +Farmer" has altered its designation to the "<i>Jolly</i> Farmer." This +should be amended; and when next we pass that way, we hope to see +the original sign restored. We cannot afford to lose our <i>golden</i> +farmers.</p></div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rookwood, by William Harrison Ainsworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROOKWOOD *** + +***** This file should be named 23564-h.htm or 23564-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/5/6/23564/ + +Produced by Afra Ullah, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Rookwood + +Author: William Harrison Ainsworth + +Release Date: November 20, 2007 [EBook #23564] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROOKWOOD *** + + + + +Produced by Afra Ullah, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + "The immortal Ainsworth." _Thackeray._ + + + NOVELS + + BY + + WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH + + + _ROOKWOOD_ + + + "Gives a vivid picture of the times + and places with which he dealt." + _The New York Herald._ + + + THE RITTENHOUSE PRESS + PHILADELPHIA + + + + +[Illustration: DICK TURPIN CLEARS HORNSEY TOLL-GATE] + + + + + PRINTED IN U.S.A. BY ARRANGEMENT WITH + GEORGE BARRIE'S SONS + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Archaic + and dialect spellings have been retained. Greek text has been + transliterated and is shown between {braces}. The oe ligature has + been transcribed as [oe]. + + A table of contents, though not present in the original publication, + has been provided below: + + MEMOIR + + TO MY MOTHER + + PREFACE + + BOOK I. THE WEDDING RING + I. The Vault + II. The Skeleton Hand + III. The Park + IV. The Hall + V. Sir Reginald Rookwood + VI. Sir Piers Rookwood + VII. The Return + VIII. An Irish Adventurer + IX. An English Adventurer + X. Ranulph Rookwood + XI. Lady Rookwood + XII. The Chamber of Death + XIII. The Brothers + + BOOK II. THE SEXTON + I. The Storm + II. The Funeral Oration + III. The Churchyard + IV. The Funeral + V. The Captive + VI. The Apparition + + BOOK III. THE GIPSY + I. A Morning Ride + II. A Gipsy Encampment + III. Sybil + IV. Barbara Lovel + V. The Inauguration + VI. Eleanor Mowbray + VII. Mrs. Mowbray + VIII. The Parting + IX. The Philter + X. Saint Cyprian's Cell + XI. The Bridal + XII. Alan Rookwood + XIII. Mr. Coates + XIV. Dick Turpin + + BOOK IV. THE RIDE TO YORK + I. The Rendezvous at Kilburn + II. Tom King + III. A Surprise + IV. The Hue and Cry + V. The Short Pipe + VI. Black Bess + VII. The York Stage + VIII. Roadside Inn + IX. Excitement + X. The Gibbet + XI. The Phantom Steed + XII. Cawood Ferry + + BOOK V. THE OATH + I. The Hut on Thorne Waste + II. Major Mowbray + III. Handassah + IV. The Dower of Sybil + V. The Sarcophagus + + L'ENVOY + + NOTES + + + + +_MEMOIR_ + + +William Harrison Ainsworth was born in King Street, Manchester, February +4, 1805, in a house that has long since been demolished. His father was +a solicitor in good practice, and the son had all the advantages that +educational facilities could afford. He was sent to the Manchester +grammar-school, and in one of his early novels has left an interesting +and accurate picture of its then condition, which may be contrasted with +that of an earlier period left by the "English opium-eater." At sixteen, +a brilliant, handsome youth, with more taste for romance and the drama +than for the dry details of the law, he was articled to a leading +solicitor of Manchester. The closest friend of his youth was a Mr. James +Crossley, who was some years older, but shared his intellectual taste +and literary enthusiasm. A drama written for private theatricals, in his +father's house was printed in _Arliss's Magazine_, and he also +contributed to the _Manchester Iris_, the _Edinburgh Magazine_, and the +_London Magazine_. He even started a periodical, which received the name +of _The B[oe]otian_, and died at the sixth number. Many of the fugitive +pieces of these early days were collected in volumes now exceedingly +rare: "December Tales" (London, 1823), which is not wholly from his pen; +the "Works of Cheviot Tichburn" (London, 1822; Manchester, 1825), +dedicated to Charles Lamb; and "A Summer Evening Tale" (London, 1825). + +"Sir John Chiverton" appeared in 1826, and for forty years was regarded +as one of his early works; but Mr. John Partington Aston has also +claimed to be its author. In all probability, both of these young men +joined in the production of the novel which attracted the attention of +Sir Walter Scott. On the death of his father, in 1824, Ainsworth went to +London to finish his legal education, but whatever intentions he may +have formed of humdrum study and determined attention to the details of +a profession in which he had no interest, were dissipated by contact +with the literary world of the metropolis. He made the acquaintance of +Mr. John Ebers, who at that time combined the duties of manager of the +Opera House with the business of a publisher. He it was who issued "Sir +John Chiverton," and the verses forming its dedication are understood to +have been addressed to Anne Frances ("Fanny") Ebers, whom Ainsworth +married October 11, 1826. Ainsworth had then to decide upon a career, +and, acting upon the suggestion of Ebers, his father-in-law, he began +business as a publisher; but after an experience of about eighteen +months he abandoned it. In this brief interval he introduced the Hon. +Mrs. Norton, and Ude, the cook, to the discerning though unequal +admiration of the British public. He was introduced to Sir Walter Scott, +who wrote the "Bonnets of Bonnie Dundee" for an annual issued by him. +Ainsworth gave him twenty guineas for it, which Sir Walter accepted, but +laughingly handed over to the little daughter of Lockhart, in whose +London house they had met. Ainsworth's literary aspirations still burned +with undiminished ardor, and several plans were formed only to be +abandoned, and when, in the summer of 1830, he visited Switzerland and +Italy, he was as far as ever from the fulfilment of his desires. In 1831 +he visited Chesterfield and began the novel of "Rookwood," in which he +successfully applied the method of Mrs. Radcliffe to English scenes and +characters. The finest passage is that relating Turpin's ride to York, +which is a marvel of descriptive writing. It was written, apparently in +a glow of inspiration, in less than a day and a half. "The feat," he +says, "for feat it was, being the composition of a hundred novel pages +in less than twenty-four hours, was achieved at 'The Elms,' a house I +then occupied at Kilburn." The success of "Rookwood" was marked and +immediate. Ainsworth at a bound reached popularity. This was in 1834, +and in 1837 he published "Crichton," which is a fine piece of historical +romance. The critics who had objected to the romantic glamor cast over +the career of Dick Turpin were still further horrified at the manner in +which that vulgar rascal, Jack Sheppard, was elevated into a hero of +romance. The outcry was not entirely without justification, nor was it +without effect on the novelist, who thenceforward avoided this perilous +ground. "Jack Sheppard" appeared in _Bentley's Miscellany_, of which +Ainsworth became editor in March, 1840, at a monthly salary of L51. The +story is powerfully written. In 1841 he received L1000 from the _Sunday +Times_ for "Old St. Paul's," and he, in 1848, had from the same source +another L1000 for the "Lancashire Witches." In 1841 he began the +publication of _Ainsworth's Magazine_, which came to an end in 1853, +when he acquired the _New Monthly Magazine_, which he edited for many +years. This was the heyday of Ainsworth's reputation alike in +literature and in society. His home at Kensal Manor House became famous +for its hospitality, and Dickens, Thackeray, Landseer, Clarkson +Stanfield, Talfourd, Jerrold, and Cruikshank were among his guests. The +list of his principal historical novels, with their dates of issue, may +now be given: "Rookwood," 1834; "Crichton," 1837; "Jack Sheppard," 1839; +"Tower of London," 1840; "Guy Fawkes," 1841; "Old St. Paul's, a Tale of +the Plague and the Fire of London," 1841; "Windsor Castle," 1843; "St. +James, or the Court of Queene Anne," 1844; "Star Chamber," 1854; +"Constable of the Tower," 1861; "The Lord Mayor of London," 1862; +"Cardinal Pole," 1863; "John Law, the Projector," 1864; "The Constable +de Bourbon," 1866; "Talbot Harland," 1870; "Boscobel," 1872; "The +Manchester Rebels, or the Fatal '45," 1873; and "The Goldsmith's Wife," +1874. These novels all met with a certain amount of success, but those +of later years did not attain the striking popularity of his earlier +efforts. Many have been translated into various modern languages, and +the editions of his various works are so numerous that some twenty-three +pages of the British Museum catalogue are devoted to his works. The +scenery and history of his native country had a perennial interest for +him, and a certain group of his novels--that is, the "Lancashire +Witches," "Guy Fawkes," "The Manchester Rebels," etc.--may almost be +said to form a novelist's history of Lancashire from the pilgrimage of +grace until the early part of the present century. + +Probably no more vivid account has been written of the great fire and +plague of London than that given in "Old St. Paul's." The charm of +Ainsworth's novels is not at all dependent upon the analysis of motives +or subtle description of character. Of this he has little or nothing, +but he realizes vividly a scene or an incident, and conveys the +impression with great force and directness to the reader's mind. +Ainsworth came upon the reading world at a happy moment. People were +weary of the inanities of the fashionable novel, and were ready to +listen to one who had a power of vivacious narrative. In 1881, when he +was in his seventy-seventh year, a pleasant tribute of respect and +admiration was paid to him in his native town. The Mayor of Manchester +entertained him at a banquet in the town hall September 15, 1881, "as an +expression of the high esteem in which he is held by his fellow-townsmen +and of his services to literature." In proposing Mr. Ainsworth's health, +the mayor gave a curious instance of the popularity of his writings. "In +our Manchester public free libraries there are two hundred and fifty +volumes of Mr. Ainsworth's different works. During the last twelve +months these volumes have been read seven thousand six hundred and sixty +times, mostly by the artisan class of readers. And this means that +twenty volumes of his works are being perused in Manchester by readers +of the free libraries every day all the year through." It was well that +this pleasant recognition was not longer delayed. The contrast was +pathetically great between the tall, handsome, dandified figure +presented in the portraits of him by Pickersgill and Maclise, and the +bent and feeble old man who stood by and acknowledged the plaudits of +those who had assembled to honor him. His last published work was +"Stanley Brereton," which he dedicated to his hospitable entertainer. +He died at Reigate January 3, 1882, leaving a widow and also three +daughters by his first marriage. He was buried at Kensal Green Cemetery. +With the exception of George Gleig, he was the last survivor of the +brilliant group who wrote for the early numbers of _Fraser's Magazine_, +and, though he died in harness, had outlived nearly all the associates +of the days when he first achieved fame. + + + + +_TO MY MOTHER_ + + +When I inscribed this Romance to you, my dear Mother, on its first +appearance, I was satisfied that, whatever reception it might meet with +elsewhere, at your hands it would be sure of indulgence. Since then, the +approbation your partiality would scarcely have withheld has been +liberally accorded by the public; and I have the satisfaction of +reflecting, that in following the dictates of affection, which prompted +me to select the dearest friend I had in the world as the subject of a +dedication, I have not overstepped the limits of prudence; nor, in +connecting your honored name with this trifling production, involved you +in a failure which, had it occurred, would have given you infinitely +more concern than myself. After a lapse of three years, during which my +little bark, fanned by pleasant and prosperous breezes, has sailed, more +than once, securely into port, I again commit it to the waters, with +more confidence than heretofore, and with a firmer reliance that, if it +should be found "after many days," it may prove a slight memorial of the +warmest filial regard. + +Exposed to trials of no ordinary difficulty, and visited by domestic +affliction of no common severity, you, my dear Mother, have borne up +against the ills of life with a fortitude and resignation which those +who know you best can best appreciate, but which none can so well +understand, or so thoroughly appreciate, as myself. Suffering is the lot +of all. Submission under the dispensation is permitted to few. And it is +my fervent hope that my own children may emulate your virtues, if they +are happily spared your sorrows. + + + + +_PREFACE_ + + +During a visit to Chesterfield, in the autumn of the year 1831, I first +conceived the notion of writing this story. Wishing to describe, +somewhat minutely, the trim gardens, the picturesque domains, the +rook-haunted groves, the gloomy chambers, and gloomier galleries, of an +ancient Hall with which I was acquainted, I resolved to attempt a story +in the bygone style of Mrs. Radcliffe,--which had always inexpressible +charms for me,--substituting an old English squire, an old English +manorial residence, and an old English highwayman, for the Italian +marchese, the castle, and the brigand of the great mistress of Romance. + +While revolving this subject, I happened, one evening, to enter the +spacious cemetery attached to the church with the queer, twisted +steeple, which, like the uplifted tail of the renowned Dragon of +Wantley, to whom "houses and churches were as capons and turkeys," seems +to menace the good town of Chesterfield with destruction. Here an +incident occurred, on the opening of a vault, which it is needless to +relate, but which supplied me with a hint for the commencement of my +romance, as well as for the ballad entitled "The Coffin." Upon this hint +I immediately acted; and the earlier chapters of the book, together with +the description of the ancestral mansion of the Rookwoods, were +completed before I quitted Chesterfield. + +Another and much larger portion of the work was written during a +residence at Rottingdean, in Sussex, in the latter part of 1833, and +owes its inspiration to many delightful walks over the South Downs. +Romance-writing was pleasant occupation then. + +The Ride to York was completed in one day and one night. This feat--for +a feat it was, being the composition of a hundred ordinary novel pages +in less than twenty-four hours--was achieved at "The Elms," a house I +then occupied at Kilburn. Well do I remember the fever into which I was +thrown during the time of composition. My pen literally scoured over the +pages. So thoroughly did I identify myself with the flying highwayman, +that, once started, I found it impossible to halt. Animated by kindred +enthusiasm, I cleared every obstacle in my path with as much facility as +Turpin disposed of the impediments that beset his flight. In his +company, I mounted the hill-side, dashed through the bustling village, +swept over the desolate heath, threaded the silent street, plunged into +the eddying stream, and kept an onward course, without pause, without +hindrance, without fatigue. With him I shouted, sang, laughed, exulted, +wept. Nor did I retire to rest till, in imagination, I heard the bell of +York Minster toll forth the knell of poor Black Bess. + +The supernatural occurrence, forming the groundwork of one of the +ballads which I have made the harbinger of doom to the house of +Rookwood, is ascribed, by popular superstition, to a family resident in +Sussex; upon whose estate the fatal tree--a gigantic lime, with mighty +arms and huge girth of trunk, as described in the song--is still +carefully preserved. Cuckfield Place, to which this singular piece of +timber is attached, is, I may state, for the benefit of the curious, the +real Rookwood Hall; for I have not drawn upon imagination, but upon +memory, in describing the seat and domains of that fated family. The +general features of the venerable structure, several of its chambers, +the old garden, and, in particular, the noble park, with its spreading +prospects, its picturesque views of the Hall, "like bits of Mrs. +Radcliffe,"--as the poet Shelley once observed of the same scene,--its +deep glades, through which the deer come lightly tripping down, its +uplands, slopes, brooks, brakes, coverts, and groves, are carefully +delineated. + +The superstition of a fallen branch affording a presage of approaching +death is not peculiar to the family I have mentioned. Many other old +houses have been equally favored: in fact, there is scarcely an ancient +family in the kingdom without a boding sign. For instance, the Breretons +of Brereton, in Cheshire, were warned by the appearance of stocks of +trees floating, like the swollen bodies of long-drowned men, upon the +surface of a sombre lake--called Blackmere, from the inky color of its +waters--adjoining their residence; and numerous other examples might be +given. The death-presage of the Breretons is alluded to by Drayton in +the "_Polyolbion_." + +It has been well observed by Barry Cornwall, "that the songs which occur +in dramas are more natural than those which proceed from the author in +person." With equal force does the reasoning apply to the romance, which +may be termed the drama of the closet. It would seem strange, on a first +view, that an author should be more at home in an assumed character than +his own. But experience shows the position to be correct. Conscious he +is no longer individually associated with his work, the writer proceeds +with all the freedom of irresponsibility. His idiosyncrasy is merged in +that of the personages he represents. He thinks with their thoughts, +sees with their eyes, speaks with their tongues. His strains are such as +he himself--_per se_--would not, perhaps could not, have originated. In +this light he may be said to bring to his subject not one mind, but +several; he becomes not one poet, but many; for each actor in his drama +has a share, and an important share, in the lyrical _estro_ to which he +gives birth. This it is which has imparted any verve, variety, or +dramatic character they possess, to the ballads contained in this +production. Turpin I look upon as the real songster of "Black Bess;" to +Jerry Juniper I am unquestionably indebted for a flash melody which, +without his hint, would never have been written, while to the sexton I +owe the solitary gleam of light I have been enabled to throw upon the +horrors and mystery of the churchyard. + +As I have casually alluded to the flash song of Jerry Juniper, I may, +perhaps, be allowed to make a few observations upon this branch of +versification. It is somewhat curious, with a dialect so racy, +idiomatic, and plastic as our own cant, that its metrical capabilities +should have been so little essayed. The French have numerous _chansons +d'argot_, ranging from the time of Charles Bourdigne and Villon down to +that of Vidocq and Victor Hugo, the last of whom has enlivened the +horrors of his "_Dernier Jour d'un Condamne_" by a festive song of this +class. The Spaniards possess a large collection of _Romances de +Germania_, by various authors, amongst whom Quevedo holds a +distinguished place. We, on the contrary, have scarcely any slang songs +of merit. With a race of depredators so melodious and convivial as our +highwaymen, this is the more to be wondered at. Had they no bards +amongst their bands? Was there no minstrel at hand to record their +exploits? I can only call to mind one robber who was a poet,--Delany, +and _he_ was an Irishman. This barrenness, I have shown, is not +attributable to the poverty of the soil, but to the want of due +cultivation. Materials are at hand in abundance, but there have been few +operators. Dekker, Beaumont and Fletcher, and Ben Jonson have all dealt +largely in this jargon, but not lyrically; and one of the earliest and +best specimens of a canting-song occurs in Brome's "_Jovial Crew_;" and +in the "_Adventures of Bamfylde Moore Carew_" there is a solitary ode, +addressed by the mendicant fraternity to their newly-elected monarch; +but it has little humor, and can scarcely be called a genuine +canting-song. This ode brings us down to our own time; to the effusions +of the illustrious Pierce Egan; to Tom Moore's Flights of "_Fancy_;" to +John Jackson's famous chant, "_On the High Toby Spice Flash the +Muzzle_," cited by Lord Byron in a note to "_Don Juan_;" and to the +glorious Irish ballad, worth them all put together, entitled "_The Night +Before Larry Was Stretched_." This facetious performance is attributed +to the late Dean Burrowes, of Cork. It is worthy of note that almost all +modern aspirants to the graces of the _Musa Pedestris_ are Irishmen. Of +all rhymesters of the "_Road_," however, Dean Burrowes is, as yet, most +fully entitled to the laurel. Larry is quite "the potato!" + +And here, as the candidates are so few, and their pretensions so humble, + + I can't help putting in my claim for praise. + +I venture to affirm that I have done something more than has been +accomplished by my predecessors, or contemporaries, with the significant +language under consideration. I have written a purely flash song, of +which the great and peculiar merit consists in its being utterly +incomprehensible to the uninformed understanding, while its meaning must +be perfectly clear and perspicuous to the practised _patterer_ of +_Romany_, or _Pedlar's French_. I have, moreover, been the first to +introduce and naturalize amongst us a measure which, though common +enough in the Argotic minstrelsy of France, has been hitherto utterly +unknown to our _pedestrian_ poetry. Some years afterwards, the song +alluded to, better known under the title of "_Nix My Dolly, Pals,--Fake +Away!_" sprang into extraordinary popularity, being set to music by +Rodwell, and chanted by glorious Paul Bedford and clever little Mrs. +Keeley. + +Before quitting the subject of these songs, I may mention that they +probably would not have been written at all if one of the earliest of +them--a chance experiment--had not excited the warm approbation of my +friend, Charles Ollier, author of the striking romance of "Ferrers." +This induced me to prosecute the vein accidentally opened. + +Turpin was the hero of my boyhood. I had always a strange passion for +highwaymen, and have listened by the hour to their exploits, as narrated +by my father, and especially to those of "Dauntless Dick," that "chief +minion of the moon." One of Turpin's adventures in particular, the ride +to Hough Green, which took deep hold of my fancy, I have recorded in +song. When a boy, I have often lingered by the side of the deep old road +where this robbery was committed, to cast wistful glances into its +mysterious windings; and when night deepened the shadows of the trees, +have urged my horse on his journey, from a vague apprehension of a visit +from the ghostly highwayman. And then there was the Bollin, with its +shelvy banks, which Turpin cleared at a bound; the broad meadows over +which he winged his flight; the pleasant bowling-green of the pleasant +old inn at Hough, where he produced his watch to the Cheshire squires, +with whom he was upon terms of intimacy; all brought something of the +gallant robber to mind. No wonder, in after-years, in selecting a +highwayman for a character in a tale, I should choose my old favorite, +Dick Turpin. + +In reference to two of the characters here introduced, and drawn from +personages living at the time the tale was written, it may be mentioned +that poor Jerry Juniper met his death from an accident at Chichester, +while he was proceeding to Goodwood races; and that the knight of +Malta,--Mr. Tom, a brewer of Truro, the self-styled Sir William +Courtenay, who played the strange tricks at Canterbury chronicled in a +song given in these pages,--after his release from Banning Heath Asylum, +was shot through the head while leading on a mob of riotous Kentish +yeomen, whom he had persuaded that he was the Messiah! + +If the design of Romance be, what it has been held, the exposition of a +useful truth by means of an interesting story, I fear I have but +imperfectly fulfilled the office imposed upon me; having, as I will +freely confess, had, throughout, an eye rather to the reader's +amusement than his edification. One wholesome moral, however, may, I +trust, be gathered from the perusal of this Tale; namely, that, without +due governance of the passions, high aspirations and generous emotions +will little avail their possessor. The impersonations of the Tempter, +the Tempted, and the Better Influence may be respectively discovered, by +those who care to cull the honey from the flower, in the Sexton, in +Luke, and in Sybil. + +The chief object I had in view in making the present essay was to see +how far the infusion of a warmer and more genial current into the veins +of old Romance would succeed in reviving her fluttering and feeble +pulses. The attempt has succeeded beyond my most sanguine expectation. +Romance, if I am not mistaken, is destined shortly to undergo an +important change. Modified by the German and French writers--by Hoffman, +Tieck, Hugo, Dumas, Balzac, and Paul Lecroix (_le Bibliophile +Jacob_)--the structure commenced in our own land by Horace Walpole, Monk +Lewis, Mrs. Radcliffe, and Maturin, but left imperfect and inharmonious, +requires, now that the rubbish which choked up its approach is removed, +only the hand of the skilful architect to its entire renovation and +perfection. + +And now, having said my say, I must bid you, worthy reader, farewell. +Beseeching you, in the words of old Rabelais, "to interpret all my +sayings and doings in the perfectest sense. Reverence the cheese-like +brain that feeds you with all these jolly maggots; and do what lies in +you to keep me always merry. Be frolic now, my lads! Cheer up your +hearts, and joyfully read the rest, with all ease of your body, and +comfort of your reins." + + KENSAL MANOR-HOUSE, + _December 15, 1849_. + + + + +ROOKWOOD + + + + +_BOOK I_ + + +_THE WEDDING RING_ + + It has been observed, and I am apt to believe it is an observation + which will generally be found true, that before a terrible truth + comes to light, there are certain murmuring whispers fly before it, + and prepare the minds of men for the reception of the truth itself. + + _Gallick Reports: + Case of the Count Saint Geran._ + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_THE VAULT_ + + Let me know, therefore, fully the intent + Of this thy dismal preparation-- + This talk fit for a charnel. + + WEBSTER. + + +Within a sepulchral vault, and at midnight, two persons were seated. The +chamber was of singular construction and considerable extent. The roof +was of solid stone masonry, and rose in a wide semicircular arch to the +height of about seventeen feet, measured from the centre of the ceiling +to the ground floor, while the sides were divided by slight +partition-walls into ranges of low, narrow catacombs. The entrance to +each cavity was surrounded by an obtusely-pointed arch, resting upon +slender granite pillars; and the intervening space was filled up with a +variety of tablets, escutcheons, shields, and inscriptions, recording +the titles and heraldic honors of the departed. There were no doors to +the niches; and within might be seen piles of coffins, packed one upon +another, till the floor groaned with the weight of lead. Against one of +the pillars, upon a hook, hung a rack of tattered, time-out-of-mind +hatchments; and in the centre of the tomb might be seen the effigies of +Sir Ranulph de Rokewode, the builder of the mausoleum, and the founder +of the race who slept within its walls. This statue, wrought in black +marble, differed from most monumental carved-work, in that its posture +was erect and lifelike. Sir Ranulph was represented as sheathed in a +complete suit of mail, decorated with his emblazoned and gilded surcoat, +his arm leaning upon the pommel of a weighty curtal-axe. The attitude +was that of stern repose. A conically-formed helmet rested upon the +brow; the beaver was raised, and revealed harsh but commanding features. +The golden spur of knighthood was fixed upon the heel; and, at the feet, +enshrined in a costly sarcophagus of marble, dug from the same quarry as +the statue, rested the mortal remains of one of "the sternest knights to +his mortal foe that ever put speare in the rest." + +Streaming in a wavering line upon the roof, the sickly flame of a candle +partially fell upon the human figures before alluded to, throwing them +into darkest relief, and casting their opaque and fantastical shadows +along the ground. An old coffin upon a bier, we have said, served the +mysterious twain for a seat. Between them stood a bottle and a glass, +evidences that whatever might be the ulterior object of their stealthy +communion, the immediate comfort of the creature had not been altogether +overlooked. At the feet of one of the personages were laid a mattock, a +horn lantern--from which the candle had been removed--, a crowbar, and a +bunch of keys. Near to these implements of a vocation which the reader +will readily surmise, rested a strange superannuated terrier with a wiry +back and frosted muzzle; a head minus an ear, and a leg wanting a paw. +His master, for such we shall suppose him, was an old man with a lofty +forehead, covered with a singularly shaped nightcap, and clothed, as to +his lower limbs, with tight, ribbed, gray worsted hose, ascending +externally, after a bygone fashion, considerably above the knee. The old +man's elbow rested upon the handle of his spade, his wrist supported his +chin, and his gray glassy eyes, glimmering like marsh-meteors in the +candle-light, were fixed upon his companion with a glance of searching +scrutiny. + +The object of his investigation, a much more youthful and interesting +person, seemed lost in reverie, and alike insensible to time, place, and +the object of the meeting. With both hands grasped round the barrel of a +fowling-piece, and his face leaning upon the same support, the features +were entirely concealed from view; the light, too, being at the back, +and shedding its rays over, rather than upon his person, aided his +disguise. Yet, even thus imperfectly defined, the outline of the head, +and the proportions of the figure, were eminently striking and +symmetrical. Attired in a rough forester's costume, of the mode of 1737, +and of the roughest texture and rudest make, his wild garb would have +determined his rank as sufficiently humble in the scale of society, had +not a certain loftiness of manner, and bold, though reckless deportment, +argued pretensions on the part of the wearer to a more elevated station +in life, and contradicted, in a great measure, the impression produced +by the homely appearance of his habiliments. A cap of shaggy brown fur, +fancifully, but not ungracefully fashioned, covered his head, from +beneath which, dropping, in natural clusters over his neck and +shoulders, a cloud of raven hair escaped. Subsequently, when his face +was more fully revealed, it proved to be that of a young man, of dark +aspect, and grave, melancholy expression of countenance, approaching +even to the stern, when at rest; though sufficiently animated and +earnest when engaged in conversation, or otherwise excited. His features +were regular, delicately formed, and might be characterized as +singularly handsome, were it not for a want of roundness in the contour +of the face which gave the lineaments a thin, worn look, totally +distinct, however, from haggardness or emaciation. The nose was delicate +and fine; the nostril especially so; the upper lip was short, curling, +graceful, and haughtily expressive. As to complexion, his skin had a +truly Spanish warmth and intensity of coloring. His figure, when raised, +was tall and masculine, and though slight, exhibited great personal +vigor. + +We will now turn to his companion, the old man with the great gray +glittering eyes. Peter Bradley, of Rookwood--comitatu Ebor--, where he +had exercised the vocation of sexton for the best part of a life already +drawn out to the full span ordinarily allotted to mortality, was an odd +caricature of humanity. His figure was lean, and almost as lank as a +skeleton. His bald head reminded one of a bleached skull, allowing for +the overhanging and hoary brows. Deep-seated, and sunken within their +sockets, his gray orbs gleamed with intolerable lustre. Few could endure +his gaze; and, aware of his power, Peter seldom failed to exercise it. +He had likewise another habit, which, as it savored of insanity, made +him an object of commiseration with some, while it rendered him yet more +obnoxious to others. The habit we allude to, was the indulgence of wild +screaming laughter at times when all merriment should be checked; and +when the exhibition of levity must proceed from utter disregard of human +grief and suffering, or from mental alienation. + +Wearied with the prolonged silence, Peter at length condescended to +speak. His voice was harsh and grating as a rusty hinge. + +"Another glass?" said he, pouring out a modicum of the pale fluid. + +His companion shook his head. + +"It will keep out the cold," continued the sexton, pressing the liquid +upon him: "and you, who are not so much accustomed as I am to the damps +of a vault, may suffer from them. Besides," added he, sneeringly, "it +will give you courage." + +His companion answered not. But the flash of his eye resented the +implied reproach. + +"Nay, never stare at me so hard, Luke," continued the sexton; "I doubt +neither your courage nor your firmness. But if you won't drink, I will. +Here's to the rest eternal of Sir Piers Rookwood! You'll say amen to +that pledge, or you are neither grandson of mine, nor offspring of his +loins." + +"Why should I reverence his memory," answered Luke, bitterly, refusing +the proffered potion, "who showed no fatherly love for me? He disowned +_me_ in life: in death I disown _him_. Sir Piers Rookwood was no father +of mine." + +"He was as certainly your father, as Susan Bradley, your mother, was my +daughter," rejoined the sexton. + +"And, surely," cried Luke, impetuously, "_you_ need not boast of the +connection! 'Tis not for you, old man, to couple their names +together--to exult in your daughter's disgrace and your own dishonor. +Shame! shame! Speak not of them in the same breath, if you would not +have me invoke curses on the dead! _I_ have no reverence--whatever _you_ +may have--for the seducer--for the murderer of my mother." + +"You have choice store of epithets, in sooth, good grandson," rejoined +Peter, with a chuckling laugh. "Sir Piers a murderer!" + +"Tush!" exclaimed Luke, indignantly, "affect not ignorance. You have +better knowledge than I have of the truth or falsehood of the dark tale +that has gone abroad respecting my mother's fate; and unless report has +belied you foully, had substantial reasons for keeping sealed lips on +the occasion. But to change this painful subject," added he, with a +sudden alteration of manner, "at what hour did Sir Piers Rookwood die?" + +"On Thursday last, in the night-time. The exact hour I know not," +replied the sexton. + +"Of what ailment?" + +"Neither do I know that. His end was sudden, yet not without a warning +sign." + +"What warning?" inquired Luke. + +"Neither more nor less than the death-omen of the house. You look +astonished. Is it possible you have never heard of the ominous +Lime-Tree, and the Fatal Bough? Why, 'tis a common tale hereabouts, and +has been for centuries. Any old crone would tell it you. Peradventure, +you _have_ seen the old avenue of lime-trees leading to the hall, nearly +a quarter of a mile in length, and as noble a row of timber as any in +the West Riding of Yorkshire. Well, there is one tree--the last on the +left hand before you come to the clock-house--larger than all the +rest--a huge piece of timber, with broad spreading branches, and of I +know not what girth in the trunk. That tree is, in some mysterious +manner, connected with the family of Rookwood, and immediately previous +to the death of one of that line, a branch is sure to be shed from the +parent stem, prognosticating his doom. But you shall hear the legend." +And in a strange sepulchral tone, not inappropriate, however, to his +subject, Peter chanted the following ballad: + + THE LEGEND OF THE LIME-TREE + + Amid the grove o'er-arched above with lime-trees old and tall + --The avenue that leads unto the Rookwood's ancient hall--, + High o'er the rest its towering crest one tree rears to the sky, + And wide out-flings, like mighty wings, its arms umbrageously. + + Seven yards its base would scarce embrace--a goodly tree I ween, + With silver bark, and foliage dark, of melancholy green; + And mid its boughs two ravens house, and build from year to year, + Their black brood hatch--their black brood watch--then screaming + disappear. + + In that old tree when playfully the summer breezes sigh, + Its leaves are stirred, and there is heard a low and plaintive cry; + And when in shrieks the storm blast speaks its reverend boughs among, + Sad wailing moans, like human groans, the concert harsh prolong. + + But whether gale or calm prevail, or threatening cloud hath fled, + By hand of Fate, predestinate, a limb that tree will shed; + A verdant bough--untouched, I trow, by axe or tempest's breath-- + To Rookwood's head an omen dread of fast-approaching death. + + Some think that tree instinct must be with preternatural power. + Like 'larum bell Death's note to knell at Fate's appointed hour; + While some avow that on its bough are fearful traces seen, + Red as the stains from human veins, commingling with the green. + + Others, again, there are maintain that on the shattered bark + A print is made, where fiends have laid their scathing talons dark; + That, ere it falls, the raven calls thrice from that wizard bough; + And that each cry doth signify what space the Fates allow. + + In olden days, the legend says, as grim Sir Ranulph view'd + A wretched hag her footsteps drag beneath his lordly wood. + His bloodhounds twain he called amain, and straightway gave her chase; + Was never seen in forest green, so fierce, so fleet a race! + + With eyes of flame to Ranulph came each red and ruthless hound, + While mangled, torn--a sight forlorn!--the hag lay on the ground; + E'en where she lay was turned the clay, and limb and reeking bone + Within the earth, with ribald mirth, by Ranulph grim were thrown. + + And while as yet the soil was wet with that poor witch's gore, + A lime-tree stake did Ranulph take, and pierced her bosom's core; + And, strange to tell, what next befell!--that branch at once took root, + And richly fed, within its bed, strong suckers forth did shoot. + + From year to year fresh boughs appear--it waxes huge in size; + And, with wild glee, this prodigy Sir Ranulph grim espies. + One day, when he, beneath that tree, reclined in joy and pride, + A branch was found upon the ground--the next, Sir Ranulph died! + + And from that hour a fatal power has ruled that Wizard Tree, + To Ranulph's line a warning sign of doom and destiny: + For when a bough is found, I trow, beneath its shade to lie, + Ere suns shall rise thrice in the skies a Rookwood sure shall die! + +"And such an omen preceded Sir Piers's demise?" said Luke, who had +listened with some attention to his grandsire's song. + +"Unquestionably," replied the sexton. "Not longer ago than Tuesday +morning, I happened to be sauntering down the avenue I have just +described. I know not what took me thither at that early hour, but I +wandered leisurely on till I came nigh the Wizard Lime-Tree. Great +Heaven! what a surprise awaited me! a huge branch lay right across the +path. It had evidently just fallen, for the leaves were green and +unwithered; the sap still oozed from the splintered wood; and there was +neither trace of knife nor hatchet on the bark. I looked up among the +boughs to mark the spot from whence it had been torn by the hand of +Fate--for no human hand had done it--and saw the pair of ancestral +ravens perched amid the foliage, and croaking as those carrion fowl are +wont to do when they scent a carcass afar off. Just then a livelier +sound saluted my ears. The cheering cry of a pack of hounds resounded +from the courts, and the great gates being thrown open, out issued Sir +Piers, attended by a troop of his roystering companions, all on +horseback, and all making the welkin ring with their vociferations. Sir +Piers laughed as loudly as the rest, but his mirth was speedily checked. +No sooner had his horse--old Rook, his favorite steed, who never swerved +at stake or pale before--set eyes upon the accursed branch, than he +started as if the fiend stood before him, and, rearing backwards, flung +his rider from the saddle. At this moment, with loud screams, the wizard +ravens took flight. Sir Piers was somewhat hurt by the fall, but he was +more frightened than hurt; and though he tried to put a bold face on the +matter, it was plain that his efforts to recover himself were fruitless. +Dr. Titus Tyrconnel and that wild fellow Jack Palmer--who has lately +come to the hall, and of whom you know something--tried to rally him. +But it would not do. He broke up the day's sport, and returned +dejectedly to the hall. Before departing, however, he addressed a word +to me in private, respecting you; and pointed, with a melancholy shake +of the head, to the fatal branch. '_It is my death-warrant_,' said he, +gloomily. And so it proved; two days afterwards his doom was +accomplished." + +"And do you place faith in this idle legend?" asked Luke, with affected +indifference, although it was evident, from his manner, that he himself +was not so entirely free from a superstitious feeling of credulity as he +would have it appear. + +"Certes," replied the sexton. "I were more difficult to be convinced +than the unbelieving disciple else. Thrice hath it occurred to my own +knowledge, and ever with the same result: first, with Sir Reginald; +secondly, with thy own mother; and lastly, as I have just told thee, +with Sir Piers." + +"I thought you said, even now, that this death omen, if such it be, was +always confined to the immediate family of Rookwood, and not to mere +inmates of the mansion." + +"To the heads only of that house, be they male or female." + +"Then how could it apply to my mother? Was _she_ of that house? Was +_she_ a wife?" + +"Who shall say she was _not_?" rejoined the sexton. + +"Who shall say she _was_ so?" cried Luke, repeating the words with +indignant emphasis--"who will avouch _that_?" + +A smile, cold as a wintry sunbeam, played upon the sexton's rigid lips. + +"I will bear this no longer," cried Luke; "anger me not, or look to +yourself. In a word, have you anything to tell me respecting her? if +not, let me begone." + +"I have. But I will not be hurried by a boy like you," replied Peter, +doggedly. "Go, if you will, and take the consequences. My lips are +sealed forever, and I have much to say--much that it behoves you to +know." + +"Be brief, then. When you sought me out this morning, in my retreat with +the gipsy gang at Davenham Wood, you bade me meet you in the porch of +Rookwood Church at midnight. I was true to my appointment." + +"And I will keep my promise," replied the sexton. "Draw closer, that I +may whisper in thine ear. Of every Rookwood who lies around us--and all +that ever bore the name, except Sir Piers himself--who lies in state at +the hall--, are here--not one--mark what I say--not one male branch of +the house but has been suspected----" + +"Of what?" + +"Of murder!" returned the sexton, in a hissing whisper. + +"Murder!" echoed Luke, recoiling. + +"There is one dark stain--one foul blot on all. Blood--blood hath been +spilt." + +"By all?" + +"Ay, and _such_ blood! theirs was no common crime. Even murder hath its +degrees. Theirs was of the first class." + +"Their wives!--you cannot mean that?" + +"Ay, their wives!--I do. You have heard it, then? Ha! ha! 'tis a trick +they had. Did you ever hear the old saying? + + _No mate ever brook would + A Rook of the Rookwood!_ + +A merry saying it is, and true. No woman ever stood in a Rookwood's way +but she was speedily removed--that's certain. They had all, save poor +Sir Piers, the knack of stopping a troublesome woman's tongue, and +practised it to perfection. A rare art, eh?" + +"What have the misdeeds of his ancestry to do with Sir Piers," muttered +Luke, "much less with my mother?" + +"Everything. If he could not rid himself of his wife--and she is a match +for the devil himself--, the _mistress_ might be more readily set +aside." + +"Have you absolute knowledge of aught?" asked Luke, his voice tremulous +with emotion. + +"Nay, I but hinted." + +"Such hints are worse than open speech. Let me know the worst. Did he +kill her?" And Luke glared at the sexton as if he would have penetrated +his secret soul. + +But Peter was not easily fathomed. His cold, bright eye returned Luke's +gaze steadfastly, as he answered, composedly: + +"I have said all I know." + +"But not all you _think_." + +"Thoughts should not always find utterance, else we might often endanger +our own safety, and that of others." + +"An idle subterfuge--and, from you, worse than idle. I will have an +answer, yea or nay. Was it poison--was it steel?" + +"Enough--she died." + +"No, it is not enough. When? Where?" + +"In her sleep--in her bed." + +"Why, that was natural." + +A wrinkling smile crossed the sexton's brow. + +"What means that horrible gleam of laughter?" exclaimed Luke, grasping +the shoulder of the man of graves with such force as nearly to +annihilate him. "Speak, or I will strangle you. She died, you say, in +her sleep?" + +"She did so," replied the sexton, shaking off Luke's hold. + +"And was it to tell me that I had a mother's murder to avenge, that you +brought me to the tomb of her destroyer--when he is beyond the reach of +my vengeance?" + +Luke exhibited so much frantic violence of manner and gesture, that the +sexton entertained some little apprehension that his intellects were +unsettled by the shock of the intelligence. It was, therefore, in what +he intended for a soothing tone that he attempted to solicit his +grandson's attention. + +"I will hear nothing more," interrupted Luke, and the vaulted chamber +rang with his passionate lamentations. "Am I the sport of this mocking +fiend?" cried he, "to whom my agony is derision--my despair a source of +enjoyment--beneath whose withering glance my spirit shrinks--who, with +half-expressed insinuations, tortures my soul, awakening fancies that +goad me on to dark and desperate deeds? Dead mother! upon thee I call. +If in thy grave thou canst hear the cry of thy most wretched son, +yearning to avenge thee--answer me, if thou hast the power. Let me have +some token of the truth or falsity of these wild suppositions, that I +may wrestle against this demon. But no," added he, in accents of +despair, "no ear listens to me, save his to whom my wretchedness is food +for mockery." + +"Could the dead hear thee, thy mother might do so," returned the sexton. +"She lies within this space." + +Luke staggered back, as if struck by a sudden shot. He spoke not, but +fell with a violent shock against a pile of coffins, at which he caught +for support. + +"What have I done?" he exclaimed, recoiling. + +A thundering crash resounded through the vault. One of the coffins, +dislodged from its position by his fall, tumbled to the ground, and, +alighting upon its side, split asunder. + +"Great Heavens! what is this?" cried Luke, as a dead body, clothed in +all the hideous apparel of the tomb, rolled forth to his feet. + +"It is your mother's corpse," answered the sexton, coldly; "I brought +you hither to behold it. But you have anticipated my intentions." + +"_This_ my mother?" shrieked Luke, dropping upon his knees by the body, +and seizing one of its chilly hands, as it lay upon the floor, with the +face upwards. + +The sexton took the candle from the sconce. + +"Can this be death?" shouted Luke. "Impossible! Oh, God! she stirs--she +moves. The light!--quick. I see her stir! This is dreadful!" + +"Do not deceive yourself," said the sexton, in a tone which betrayed +more emotion than was his wont. "'Tis the bewilderment of fancy. She +will never stir again." + +And he shaded the candle with his hand, so as to throw the light full +upon the face of the corpse. It was motionless, as that of an image +carved in stone. No trace of corruption was visible upon the rigid, yet +exquisite tracery of its features. A profuse cloud of raven hair, +escaped from its swathements in the fall, hung like a dark veil over the +bosom and person of the dead, and presented a startling contrast to the +waxlike hue of the skin and the pallid cereclothes. Flesh still adhered +to the hand, though it mouldered into dust within the gripe of Luke, as +he pressed the fingers to his lips. The shroud was disposed like +night-gear about her person, and from without its folds a few withered +flowers had fallen. A strong aromatic odor, of a pungent nature, was +diffused around; giving evidence that the art by which the ancient +Egyptians endeavored to rescue their kindred from decomposition had been +resorted to, to preserve the fleeting charms of the unfortunate Susan +Bradley. + +A pause of awful silence succeeded, broken only by the convulsive +respiration of Luke. The sexton stood by, apparently an indifferent +spectator of the scene of horror. His eye wandered from the dead to the +living, and gleamed with a peculiar and indefinable expression, half +apathy, half abstraction. For one single instant, as he scrutinized the +features of his daughter, his brow, contracted by anger, immediately +afterwards was elevated in scorn. But otherwise you would have sought in +vain to read the purport of that cold, insensible glance, which dwelt +for a brief space on the face of the mother, and settled eventually upon +her son. At length the withered flowers attracted his attention. He +stooped to pick up one of them. + +"Faded as the hand that gathered ye--as the bosom on which ye were +strewn!" he murmured. "No sweet smell left--but--faugh!" Holding the dry +leaves to the flame of the candle, they were instantly ignited, and the +momentary brilliance played like a smile upon the features of the dead. +Peter observed the effect. "Such was thy life," he exclaimed; "a brief, +bright sparkle, followed by dark, utter extinction!" + +Saying which, he flung the expiring ashes of the floweret from his hand. + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_THE SKELETON HAND_ + + _Duch._ You are very cold. + I fear you are not well after your travel. + Ha! lights.----Oh horrible! + + _Fer._ Let her have lights enough. + + _Duch._ What witchcraft doth he practise, that he hath left + A dead hand here? + + _Duchess of Malfy._ + + +The sexton's waning candle now warned him of the progress of time, and +having completed his arrangements, he addressed himself to Luke, +intimating his intention of departing. But receiving no answer, and +remarking no signs of life about his grandson, he began to be +apprehensive that he had fallen into a swoon. Drawing near to Luke, he +took him gently by the arm. Thus disturbed, Luke groaned aloud. + +"I am glad to find you can breathe, if it be only after that melancholy +fashion," said the sexton; "but come, I have wasted time enough already. +You must indulge your grief elsewhere." + +"Leave me," sighed Luke. + +"What, here? It were as much as my office is worth. You can return some +other night. But go you must, now--at least, if you take on thus. I +never calculated upon a scene like this, or it had been long ere I +brought you hither. So come away; yet, stay;--but first lend me a hand +to replace the body in the coffin." + +"Touch it not," exclaimed Luke; "she shall not rest another hour within +these accursed walls. I will bear her hence myself." And, sobbing +hysterically, he relapsed into his former insensibility. + +"Poh! this is worse than midsummer madness," said Peter; "the lad is +crazed with grief, and all about a mother who has been four-and-twenty +years in her grave. I will e'en put her out of the way myself." + +Saying which, he proceeded, as noiselessly as possible, to raise the +corpse in his arms, and deposited it softly within its former tenement. +Carefully as he executed his task, he could not accomplish it without +occasioning a slight accident to the fragile frame. Insensible as he +was, Luke had not relinquished the hold he maintained of his mother's +hand. And when Peter lifted the body, the ligaments connecting the hand +with the arm were suddenly snapped asunder. It would appear afterwards, +that this joint had been tampered with, and partially dislocated. +Without, however, entering into further particulars in this place, it +may be sufficient to observe that the hand, detached from the socket at +the wrist, remained within the gripe of Luke; while, ignorant of the +mischief he had occasioned, the sexton continued his labors +unconsciously, until the noise which he of necessity made in stamping +with his heel upon the plank, recalled his grandson to sensibility. The +first thing that the latter perceived, upon collecting his faculties, +were the skeleton fingers twined within his own. + +"What have you done with the body? Why have you left this with me?" +demanded he. + +"It was not my intention to have done so," answered the sexton, +suspending his occupation. "I have just made fast the lid, but it is +easily undone. You had better restore it." + +"Never," returned Luke, staring at the bony fragment. + +"Pshaw! of what advantage is a dead hand? 'Tis an unlucky keepsake, and +will lead to mischief. The only use I ever heard of such a thing being +turned to, was in the case of Bow-legged Ben, who was hanged in irons +for murder, on Hardchase Heath, on the York Road, and whose hand was cut +off at the wrist the first night to make a Hand of Glory, or Dead Man's +Candle. Hast never heard what the old song says?" And without awaiting +his grandson's response, Peter broke into the following wild strain: + + THE HAND OF GLORY[1] + + From the corse that hangs on the roadside tree + --A murderer's corse it needs must be--, + Sever the right hand carefully:-- + Sever the hand that the deed hath done, + Ere the flesh that clings to the bones be gone; + In its dry veins must blood be none. + Those ghastly fingers white and cold, + Within a winding-sheet enfold; + Count the mystic count of seven: + Name the Governors of Heaven.[2] + Then in earthen vessel place them, + And with dragon-wort encase them, + Bleach them in the noonday sun, + Till the marrow melt and run, + Till the flesh is pale and wan, + As a moon-ensilvered cloud, + As an unpolluted shroud. + Next within their chill embrace + The dead man's Awful Candle place; + Of murderer's fat must that candle be + --You may scoop it beneath the roadside tree--, + Of wax, and of Lapland sisame. + Its wick must be twisted of hair of the dead, + By the crow and her brood on the wild waste shed. + Wherever that terrible light shall burn + Vainly the sleeper may toss and turn; + His leaden lids shall he ne'er unclose + So long as that magical taper glows. + Life and treasures shall he command + Who knoweth the charm of the Glorious Hand! + But of black cat's gall let him aye have care, + And of screech-owl's venomous blood beware! + +"Peace!" thundered Luke, extending his mother's hand towards the sexton. +"What seest thou?" + +"I see something shine. Hold it nigher the light. Ha! that is strange, +truly. How came that ring there?" + +"Ask of Sir Piers! ask of her _husband_!" shouted Luke, with a wild +burst of exulting laughter. "Ha! ha! ha! 'tis a wedding-ring! And look! +the finger is bent. It must have been placed upon it in her lifetime. +There is no deception in this--no trickery--ha!" + +"It would seem not; the sinew must have been contracted in life. The +tendons are pulled down so tightly, that the ring could not be withdrawn +without breaking the finger." + +"You are sure that coffin contains her body?" + +"As sure as I am that this carcass is my own." + +"The hand--'tis hers. Can any doubt exist?" + +"Wherefore should it? It was broken from the arm by accident within this +moment. I noticed not the occurrence, but it must have been so." + +"Then it follows that she was wedded, and I am not----" + +"Illegitimate. For your own sake I am glad of it." + +"My heart will burst. Oh! could I but establish the fact of this +marriage, her wrongs would be indeed avenged." + +"Listen to me, Luke," said the sexton, solemnly. "I told you, when I +appointed this midnight interview, I had a secret to communicate. That +secret is now revealed--that secret was your mother's marriage." + +"And it was known to you during her lifetime?" + +"It was. But I was sworn to secrecy." + +"You have proofs then?" + +"I have nothing beyond Sir Piers's word--and he is silent now." + +"By whom was the ceremony performed?" + +"By a Romish priest--a Jesuit--one Father Checkley, at that time an +inmate of the hall; for Sir Piers, though he afterwards abjured it, at +that time professed the Catholic faith, and this Checkley officiated as +his confessor and counsellor; as the partner of his pleasures, and the +prompter of his iniquities. He was your father's evil genius." + +"Is he still alive?" + +"I know not. After your mother's death he left the hall. I have said he +was a Jesuit, and I may add, that he was mixed up in dark political +intrigues, in which your father was too feeble a character to take much +share. But though too weak to guide, he was a pliant instrument, and +this Checkley knew. He moulded him according to his wishes. I cannot +tell you what was the nature of their plots. Suffice it, they were such +as, if discovered, would have involved your father in ruin. He was +saved, however, by his wife." + +"And her reward----" groaned Luke. + +"Was death," replied Peter, coldly. "What Jesuit ever forgave a +wrong--real or imaginary? Your mother, I ought to have said, was a +Protestant. Hence there was a difference of religious opinion--the worst +of differences that can exist between husband and wife--. Checkley vowed +her destruction, and he kept his vow. He was enamored of her beauty. +But while he burnt with adulterous desire, he was consumed by fiercest +hate--contending, and yet strangely-reconcilable passions--as you may +have reason, hereafter, to discover." + +"Go on," said Luke, grinding his teeth. + +"I have done," returned Peter. "From that hour your father's love for +his supposed mistress, and unacknowledged wife, declined; and with his +waning love declined her health. I will not waste words in describing +the catastrophe that awaited her union. It will be enough to say, she +was found one morning a corpse within her bed. Whatever suspicions were +attached to Sir Piers were quieted by Checkley, who distributed gold, +largely and discreetly. The body was embalmed by Barbara Lovel, the +Gipsy Queen." + +"My foster-mother!" exclaimed Luke, in a tone of extreme astonishment. + +"Ah," replied Peter, "from her you may learn all particulars. You have +now seen what remains of your mother. You are in possession of the +secret of your birth. The path is before you, and if you would arrive at +honor you must pursue it steadily, turning neither to the right nor to +the left. Opposition you will meet at each step. But fresh lights may be +thrown upon this difficult case. It is in vain to hope for Checkley's +evidence, even should the caitiff priest be living. He is himself too +deeply implicated--ha!" + +Peter stopped, for at this moment the flame of the candle suddenly +expired, and the speakers were left in total darkness. Something like a +groan followed the conclusion of the sexton's discourse. It was evident +that it proceeded not from his grandson, as an exclamation burst from +him at the same instant. Luke stretched out his arm. A cold hand seemed +to press against his own, communicating a chill like death to his frame. + +"Who is between us?" he ejaculated. + +"The devil!" cried the sexton, leaping from the coffin-lid with an +agility that did him honor. "Is aught between us?" + +"I will discharge my gun. Its flash will light us." + +"Do so," hastily rejoined Peter. "But not in this direction." + +"Get behind me," cried Luke. And he pulled the trigger. + +A blaze of vivid light illumined the darkness. Still nothing was +visible, save the warrior figure, which was seen for a moment, and then +vanished like a ghost. The buck-shot rattled against the further end of +the vault. + +"Let us go hence," ejaculated the sexton, who had rushed to the door, +and thrown it wide open. "Mole! Mole!" cried he, and the dog sprang +after him. + +"I could have sworn I felt something," said Luke; "whence issued that +groan?" + +"Ask not whence," replied Peter. "Reach me my mattock, and spade, and +the lantern; they are behind you. And stay, it were better to bring away +the bottle." + +"Take them, and leave me here." + +"Alone in the vault?--no, no, Luke, I have not told you half I know +concerning that mystic statue. It is said to move--to walk--to raise its +axe--be warned, I pray." + +"Leave me, or abide, if you will, my coming, in the church. If there is +aught that may be revealed to my ear alone, I will not shrink from it, +though the dead themselves should arise to proclaim the mystery. It may +be--but--go--there are your tools." And he shut the door, with a jar +that shook the sexton's frame. + +Peter, after some muttered murmurings at the hardihood and madness, as +he termed it, of his grandson, disposed his lanky limbs to repose upon a +cushioned bench without the communion railing. As the pale moonlight +fell upon his gaunt and cadaverous visage, he looked like some unholy +thing suddenly annihilated by the presiding influence of that sacred +spot. Mole crouched himself in a ring at his master's feet. Peter had +not dozed many minutes, when he was aroused by Luke's return. The latter +was very pale, and the damp stood in big drops upon his brow. + +"Have you made fast the door?" inquired the sexton. + +"Here is the key." + +"What have you seen?" he next demanded. + +Luke made no answer. At that moment, the church clock struck two, +breaking the stillness with an iron clang. Luke raised his eyes. A ray +of moonlight, streaming obliquely through the painted window, fell upon +the gilt lettering of a black mural entablature. The lower part of the +inscription was in the shade, but the emblazonment, and the words-- + + Orate pro anima Reginaldi Rookwood equitis aurati, + +were clear and distinct. Luke trembled, he knew not why, as the sexton +pointed to it. + +"You have heard of the handwriting upon the wall," said Peter. "Look +there!--'His kingdom hath been taken from him.' Ha, ha! Listen to me. Of +all thy monster race--of all the race of Rookwood I should say--no demon +ever stalked the earth more terrible than him whose tablet you now +behold. By him a brother was betrayed; by him a brother's wife was +dishonored. Love, honor, friendship, were with him as words. He regarded +no ties; he defied and set at naught all human laws and obligations--and +yet he was religious, or esteemed so--received the _viaticum_, and died +full of years and honors, hugging salvation to his sinful heart. And +after death he has yon lying epitaph to record his virtues. _His_ +virtues! ha, ha! Ask him who preaches to the kneeling throng gathering +within this holy place what shall be the murderer's portion--and he will +answer--_Death!_ And yet Sir Reginald was long-lived. The awful +question, 'Cain, where is thy brother?' broke not his tranquil slumbers. +Luke, I have told you much--but not all. You know not, as yet--nor shall +you know your destiny; but you shall be the avenger of infamy and +blood. I have a sacred charge committed to my keeping, which, hereafter, +I may delegate to you. You _shall_ be Sir Luke Rookwood, but the +conditions must be mine to propose." + +"No more," said Luke; "my brain reels. I am faint. Let us quit this +place, and get into the fresh air." And striding past his grandsire he +traversed the aisles with hasty steps. Peter was not slow to follow. The +key was applied, and they emerged into the churchyard. The grassy mounds +were bathed in the moonbeams, and the two yew-trees, throwing their +black jagged shadows over the grave hills, looked like evil spirits +brooding over the repose of the righteous. + +The sexton noticed the deathly paleness of Luke's countenance, but he +fancied it might proceed from the tinge of the sallow moonlight. + +"I will be with you at your cottage ere daybreak," said Luke. And +turning an angle of the church, he disappeared from view. + +"So," exclaimed Peter, gazing after him, "the train is laid; the spark +has been applied; the explosion will soon follow. The hour is fast +approaching when I shall behold this accursed house shaken to dust, and +when my long-delayed vengeance will be gratified. In that hope I am +content to drag on the brief remnant of my days. Meanwhile, I must not +omit the stimulant. In a short time I may not require it." Draining the +bottle to the last drop, he flung it from him, and commenced chanting, +in a high key and cracked voice, a wild ditty, the words of which ran as +follow: + + THE CARRION CROW + + The Carrion Crow is a sexton bold. + He raketh the dead from out the mould; + He delveth the ground like a miser old, + Stealthily hiding his store of gold. + _Caw! Caw!_ + + The Carrion Crow hath a coat of black, + Silky and sleek like a priest's to his back; + Like a lawyer he grubbeth--no matter what way-- + The fouler the offal, the richer his prey. + _Caw! Caw! the Carrion Crow!_ + _Dig! Dig! in the ground below!_ + + The Carrion Crow hath a dainty maw, + With savory pickings he crammeth his craw; + Kept meat from the gibbet it pleaseth his whim, + It can never _hang_ too long for him! + _Caw! Caw!_ + + The Carrion Crow smelleth powder, 'tis said, + Like a soldier escheweth the taste of cold lead; + No jester, or mime, hath more marvellous wit, + For, wherever he lighteth, he maketh a hit! + _Caw! Caw! the Carrion Crow!_ + _Dig! Dig! in the ground below!_ + +Shouldering his spade, and whistling to his dog, the sexton quitted the +churchyard. + +Peter had not been gone many seconds, when a dark figure, muffled in a +wide black mantle, emerged from among the tombs surrounding the church; +gazed after him for a few seconds, and then, with a menacing gesture, +retreated behind the ivied buttresses of the gray old pile. + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_THE PARK_ + + _Brian._ Ralph! hearest thou any stirring? + + _Ralph._ I heard one speak here, hard by, in the hollow. Peace! + master, speak low. Nouns! if I do not hear a bow go off, and the + buck bray, I never heard deer in my life. + + _Bri._ Stand, or I'll shoot. + + _Sir Arthur._ Who's there? + + _Bri._ I am the keeper, and do charge you stand. + You have stolen my deer. + + _Merry Devil of Edmonton._ + + +Luke's first impulse had been to free himself from the restraint imposed +by his grandsire's society. He longed to commune with himself. Leaping +the small boundary-wall, which defended the churchyard from a deep green +lane, he hurried along in a direction contrary to that taken by the +sexton, making the best of his way until he arrived at a gap in the +high-banked hazel hedge which overhung the road. Heedless of the +impediments thrown in his way by the undergrowth of a rough ring fence, +he struck through the opening that presented itself, and, climbing over +the moss-grown paling, trod presently upon the elastic sward of Rookwood +Park. + +A few minutes' rapid walking brought him to the summit of a rising +ground crowned with aged oaks and, as he passed beneath their broad +shadows, his troubled spirit, soothed by the quietude of the scene, in +part resumed its serenity. + +Luke yielded to the gentle influence of the time and hour. The stillness +of the spot allayed the irritation of his frame, and the dewy chillness +cooled the fever of his brow. Leaning for support against the gnarled +trunk of one of the trees, he gave himself up to contemplation. The +events of the last hour--of his whole existence--passed in rapid review +before him. The thought of the wayward, vagabond life he had led; of the +wild adventures of his youth; of all he had been; of all he had _done_, +of all he had endured--crowded his mind; and then, like the passing of a +cloud flitting across the autumnal moon, and occasionally obscuring the +smiling landscape before him, his soul was shadowed by the remembrance +of the awful revelations of the last hour, and the fearful knowledge he +had acquired of his mother's fate--of his father's guilt. + +The eminence on which he stood was one of the highest points of the +park, and commanded a view of the hall, which might be a quarter of a +mile distant, discernible through a broken vista of trees, its whitened +walls glimmering in the moonlight, and its tall chimney spiring far from +out the round masses of wood in which it lay embosomed. The ground +gradually sloped in that direction, occasionally rising into swells, +studded with magnificent timber--dipping into smooth dells, or +stretching out into level glades, until it suddenly sank into a deep +declivity, that formed an effectual division, without the intervention +of a haw-haw, or other barrier, between the chase and the home-park. A +slender stream strayed through this ravine, having found its way thither +from a small reservoir, hidden in the higher plantations to the left; +and further on, in the open ground, and in a line with the hall, though, +of course, much below the level of the building, assisted by many local +springs, and restrained by a variety of natural and artificial +embankments, this brook spread out into an expansive sheet of water. +Crossed by a rustic bridge, the only communication between the parks, +the pool found its outlet into the meads below; and even at that +distance, and in that still hour, you might almost catch the sound of +the brawling waters, as they dashed down the weir in a foaming cascade; +while, far away, in the spreading valley, the serpentine meanderings of +the slender current might be traced, glittering like silvery threads in +the moonshine. The mild beams of the queen of night, then in her +meridian, trembled upon the topmost branches of the tall timber, +quivering like diamond spray upon the outer foliage; and, penetrating +through the interstices of the trees, fell upon the light wreaths of +vapor then beginning to arise from the surface of the pool, steeping +them in misty splendor, and lending to this part of the picture a +character of dreamy and unearthly beauty. + +All else was in unison. No sound interrupted the silence of Luke's +solitude, except the hooting of a large gray owl, that, scared at his +approach, or in search of prey, winged its spectral flight in continuous +and mazy circles round his head, uttering at each wheel its startling +whoop; or a deep, distant bay, that ever and anon boomed upon the ear, +proceeding from a pack of hounds kennelled in a shed adjoining the pool +before mentioned, but which was shrouded from view by the rising mist. +No living objects presented themselves, save a herd of deer, crouched in +a covert of brown fern beneath the shadow of a few stunted trees, +immediately below the point of land on which Luke stood; and although +their branching antlers could scarcely be detected from the +ramifications of the wood itself, they escaped not his practised ken. + +"How often," murmured Luke, "in years gone by, have I traversed these +moonlit glades, and wandered amidst these woodlands, on nights heavenly +as this--ay, and to some purpose, as yon thinned herd might testify! +Every dingle, every dell, every rising brow, every bosky vale and +shelving covert, have been as familiar to my track as to that of the +fleetest and freest of their number: scarce a tree amidst the thickest +of yon outstretching forest with which I cannot claim acquaintance; 'tis +long since I have seen them. By Heavens! 'tis beautiful! and it is all +my own! Can I forget that it was here I first emancipated myself from +thraldom? Can I forget the boundless feeling of delight that danced +within my veins when I first threw off the yoke of servitude, and roved +unshackled, unrestrained, amidst these woods? The wild intoxicating +bliss still tingles to my heart. And they are all my own--my own! +Softly, what have we there?" + +Luke's attention was arrested by an object which could not fail to +interest him, sportsman as he was. A snorting bray was heard, and a +lordly stag stalked slowly and majestically from out the copse. Luke +watched the actions of the noble animal with great interest, drawing +back into the shade. A hundred yards, or thereabouts, might be between +him and the buck. It was within range of ball. Luke mechanically grasped +his gun; yet his hand had scarcely raised the piece half way to his +shoulder, when he dropped it again to its rest. + +"What am I about to do?" he mentally ejaculated. "Why, for mere pastime, +should I take away yon noble creature's life, when his carcass would be +utterly useless to me? Yet such is the force of habit, that I can scarce +resist the impulse that tempted me to fire; and I have known the time, +and that not long since, when I should have shown no such self-control." + +Unconscious of the danger it had escaped, the animal moved forward with +the same stately step. Suddenly it stopped, with ears pricked, as if +some sound had smote them. At that instant the click of a gun-lock was +heard, at a little distance to the right. The piece had missed fire. An +instantaneous report from another gun succeeded; and, with a bound high +in air, the buck fell upon his back, struggling in the agonies of death. +Luke had at once divined the cause; he was aware that poachers were at +hand. He fancied that he knew the parties; nor was he deceived in his +conjecture. Two figures issued instantly from a covert on the right, and +making to the spot, the first who reached it put an end to the animal's +struggles by plunging a knife into its throat. The affrighted herd took +to their heels, and were seen darting swiftly down the chase. + +One of the twain, meantime, was occupied in feeling for the deer's fat, +when he was approached by the other, who pointed in the direction of the +house. The former raised himself from his kneeling posture, and both +appeared to listen attentively. Luke fancied he heard a slight sound in +the distance; whatever the noise proceeded from, it was evident the +deer-stealers were alarmed. They laid hold of the buck, and, dragging it +along, concealed the carcass among the tall fern; they then retreated, +halting for an instant to deliberate, within a few yards of Luke, who +was concealed from their view by the trunk of the tree, behind which he +had ensconced his person. They were so near, that he lost not a word of +their muttered conference. + +"The game's spoiled this time, Rob Rust, any how," growled one, in an +angry tone; "the hawks are upon us, and we must leave this brave buck to +take care of himself. Curse him!--who'd 'a' thought of Hugh Badger's +quitting his bed to-night? Respect for his late master might have kept +him quiet the night before the funeral. But look out, lad. Dost see +'em?" + +"Ay, thanks to old Oliver--yonder they are," returned the other. +"One--two--three--and a muzzled bouser to boot. There's Hugh at the head +on 'em. Shall we stand and show fight? I have half a mind for it." + +"No, no," replied the first speaker; "that will never do, Rob--no +fighting. Why run the risk of being grabb'd for a haunch of venison? Had +Luke Bradley or Jack Palmer been with us, it might have been another +affair. As it is, it won't pay. Besides, we've that to do at the hall +to-morrow night that may make men of us for the rest of our nat'ral +lives. We've pledged ourselves to Jack Palmer, and we can't be off in +honor. It won't do to be snabbled in the nick of it. So let's make for +the prad in the lane. Keep in the shade as much as you can. Come along, +my hearty." And away the two worthies scampered down the hill-side. + +"Shall I follow," thought Luke, "and run the risk of falling into the +keeper's hand, just at this crisis, too? No, but if I am found here, I +shall be taken for one of the gang. Something must be done--ha!--devil +take them, here they are already." + +Further time was not allowed him for reflection. A hoarse baying was +heard, followed by a loud cry from the keepers. The dog had scented out +the game; and, as secrecy was no longer necessary, his muzzle had been +removed. To rush forth now were certain betrayal; to remain was almost +equally assured detection; and, doubting whether he should obtain +credence if he delivered himself over in that garb and armed, Luke at +once rejected the idea. Just then it flashed across his recollection +that his gun had remained unloaded, and he applied himself eagerly to +repair this negligence, when he heard the dog in full cry, making +swiftly in his direction. He threw himself upon the ground, where the +fern was thickest; but this seemed insufficient to baffle the sagacity +of the hound--the animal had got his scent, and was baying close at +hand. The keepers were drawing nigh. Luke gave himself up for lost. The +dog, however, stopped where the two poachers had halted, and was there +completely at fault: snuffing the ground, he bayed, wheeled round, and +then set off with renewed barking upon their track. Hugh Badger and his +comrades loitered an instant at the same place, looked warily round, and +then, as Luke conjectured, followed the course taken by the hound. + +Swift as thought, Luke arose, and keeping as much as possible under +cover of the trees, started in a cross line for the lane. Rapid as was +his flight, it was not without a witness: one of the keeper's +assistants, who had lagged behind, gave the view-halloo in a loud voice. +Luke pressed forward with redoubled energy, endeavoring to gain the +shelter of the plantation, and this he could readily have accomplished, +had no impediment been in his way. But his rage and vexation were +boundless, when he heard the keeper's cry echoed by shouts immediately +below him, and the tongue of the hound resounding in the hollow. He +turned sharply round, steering a middle course, and still aiming at the +fence. It was evident, from the cheers of his pursuers, that he was in +full view, and he heard them encouraging and directing the dog. + +Luke had gained the park palings, along which he rushed, in the vain +quest of some practicable point of egress, for the fence was higher in +this part of the park than elsewhere, owing to the inequality of the +ground. He had cast away his gun as useless. But even without that +incumbrance, he dared not hazard the delay of climbing the palings. At +this juncture a deep breathing was heard close behind him. He threw a +glance over his shoulder. Within a few yards was a ferocious bloodhound, +with whose savage nature Luke was well acquainted; the breed, some of +which he had already seen, having been maintained at the hall ever since +the days of grim old Sir Ranulph. The eyes of the hound were glaring, +blood-red; his tongue was hanging out, and a row of keen white fangs was +displayed, like the teeth of a shark. There was a growl--a leap--and the +dog was close upon him. + +Luke's courage was undoubted. But his heart failed him as he heard the +roar of the remorseless brute, and felt that he could not avoid an +encounter with the animal. His resolution was instantly taken: he +stopped short with such suddenness, that the dog, when in the act of +springing, flew past him with great violence, and the time, momentary as +it was, occupied by the animal in recovering himself, enabled Luke to +drop on his knee, and to place one arm, like a buckler, before his face, +while he held the other in readiness to grapple his adversary. Uttering +a fierce yell, the hound returned to the charge, darting at Luke, who +received the assault without flinching; and in spite of a severe +laceration of the arm, he seized his foe by the throat, and hurling him +upon the ground, jumped with all his force upon his belly. There was a +yell of agony--the contest was ended, and Luke was at liberty to pursue +his flight unmolested. + +Brief as had been the interval required for this combat, it had been +sufficient to bring the pursuers within sight of the fugitive. Hugh +Badger, who from the acclivity had witnessed the fate of his favorite, +with a loud oath discharged the contents of his gun at the head of its +destroyer. It was fortunate for Luke that at this instant he stumbled +over the root of a tree--the shot rattled in the leaves as he fell, and +the keeper, concluding that he had at least winged his bird, descended +more leisurely towards him. As he lay upon the ground, Luke felt that he +was wounded; whether by the teeth of the dog, from a stray shot, or from +bruises inflicted by the fall, he could not determine. But, smarting +with pain, he resolved to wreak his vengeance upon the first person who +approached him. He vowed not to be taken with life--to strangle any who +should lay hands upon him. At that moment he felt a pressure at his +breast. It was the dead hand of his mother! + +Luke shuddered. The fire of revenge was quenched. He mentally cancelled +his rash oath; yet he could not bring himself to surrender at +discretion, and without further effort. The keeper and his assistants +were approaching the spot where he lay, and searching for his body. Hugh +Badger was foremost, and within a yard of him. + +"Confound the rascal!" cried Hugh, "he's not half killed; he seems to +breathe." + +The words were scarcely out of his mouth ere the speaker was dashed +backwards, and lay sprawling upon the sod. Suddenly and unexpectedly, as +an Indian chief might rush upon his foes, Luke arose, dashing himself +with great violence against Hugh, who happened to stand in his way, and +before the startled assistants, who were either too much taken by +surprise, or unwilling to draw a trigger, could in any way lay hands +upon him, exerting all the remarkable activity which he possessed, he +caught hold of a projecting branch of a tree, and swung himself, at a +single bound, fairly over the paling. + +Hugh Badger was shortly on his legs, swearing lustily at his defeat. +Directing his men to skirt alongside the fence, and make for a +particular part of the plantation which he named, and snatching a loaded +fowling-piece from one of them, he clambered over the pales, and guided +by the crashing branches and other sounds conveyed to his quick ear, he +was speedily upon Luke's track. + +The plantation through which the chase now took place was not, as might +be supposed, a continuation of the ring fence which Luke had originally +crossed on his entrance into the park, though girded by the same line of +paling, but, in reality, a close pheasant preserve, occupying the banks +of a ravine, which, after a deep and tortuous course, terminated in the +declivity heretofore described as forming the park boundary. Luke +plunged into the heart of this defile, fighting his way downwards, in +the direction of the brook. His progress was impeded by a thick +undergrowth of brier, and other matted vegetation, as well as by the +entanglements thrown in his way by the taller bushes of thorn and hazel, +the entwined and elastic branches of which, in their recoil, galled and +fretted him, by inflicting smart blows on his face and hands. This was a +hardship he usually little regarded. But, upon the present occasion, it +had the effect, by irritating his temper, of increasing the thirst of +vengeance raging in his bosom. + +Through the depths of the ravine welled the shallow stream before +alluded to, and Hugh Badger had no sooner reached its sedgy margin than +he lost all trace of the fugitive. He looked cautiously round, listened +intently, and inclined his ear to catch the faintest echo. All was +still: not a branch shook, not a leaf rustled. Hugh looked aghast. He +had made sure of getting a glimpse, and, perhaps, a stray shot at the +"poaching rascal," as he termed him, "in the open space, which he was +sure the fellow was aiming to reach; and now, all at once, he had +disappeared, like a will-o'-the-wisp or a boggart of the clough." +However, he could not be far off, and Hugh endeavored to obtain some +clue to guide him in his quest. He was not long in detecting recent +marks deeply indented in the mud on the opposite bank. Hugh leaped +thither at once. Further on, some rushes were trodden down, and there +were other indications of the course the fugitive had taken. + +"Hark forward!" shouted Hugh, in the joy of his heart at this discovery; +and, like a well-trained dog, he followed up with alacrity the scent he +had opened. The brook presented still fewer impediments to expedition +than the thick copse, and the keeper pursued the wanderings of the petty +current, occasionally splashing into the stream. Here and there, the +print of a foot on the soil satisfied him he was in the right path. At +length he became aware, from the crumbling soil, that the object of his +pursuit had scaled the bank, and he forthwith moderated his pace. +Halting, he perceived what he took to be a face peeping at him from +behind a knot of alders that overhung the steep and shelving bank +immediately above him. His gun was instantly at his shoulder. + +"Come down, you infernal deer-stealing scoundrel," cried Hugh, "or I'll +blow you to shivers." + +No answer was returned: expostulation was vain; and, fearful of placing +himself at a disadvantage if he attempted to scale the bank, Hugh fired +without further parley. The sharp discharge rolled in echoes down the +ravine, and a pheasant, scared by the sound, answered the challenge from +a neighboring tree. Hugh was an unerring marksman, and on this occasion +his aim had been steadily taken. The result was not precisely such as he +had anticipated. A fur cap, shaken by the shot from the bough on which +it hung, came rolling down the bank, proclaiming the _ruse_ that had +been practised upon the keeper. Little time was allowed him for +reflection. Before he could reload, he felt himself collared by the iron +arm of Luke. + +Hugh Badger was a man of great personal strength--square-set, +bandy-legged, with a prodigious width of chest, and a frame like a +Hercules, and, energetic as was Luke's assault, he maintained his ground +without flinching. The struggle was desperate. Luke was of slighter +proportion, though exceeding the keeper in stature by the head and +shoulders. This superiority availed him little. It was rather a +disadvantage in the conflict that ensued. The gripe fastened upon +Hugh's throat was like that of a clenched vice. But Luke might as well +have grappled the neck of a bull, as that of the stalwart keeper. +Defending himself with his hobnail boots, with which he inflicted +several severe blows upon Luke's shins, and struggling vehemently, Hugh +succeeded in extricating himself from his throttling grasp; he then +closed with his foe, and they were locked together, like a couple of +bears at play. Straining, tugging, and practising every sleight and +stratagem coming within the scope of feet, knees, and thighs--now +tripping, now jerking, now advancing, now retreating, they continued the +strife, but all with doubtful result. Victory, at length, seemed to +declare itself in favor of the sturdy keeper. Aware of his opponent's +strength, it was Luke's chief endeavor to keep his lower limbs +disengaged, and to trust more to skill than force for ultimate success. +To prevent this was Hugh's grand object. Guarding himself against every +feint, he ultimately succeeded in firmly grappling his agile assailant. +Luke's spine was almost broken by the shock, when he suddenly gave way; +and, without losing his balance, drew his adversary forward, kicking his +right leg from under him. With a crash like that of an uprooted oak, +Hugh fell, with his foe upon him, into the bed of the rivulet. + +Not a word had been spoken during the conflict. A convulsive groan burst +from Hugh's hardy breast. His hand sought his girdle, but in vain; his +knife was gone. Gazing upwards, his dancing vision encountered the +glimmer of the blade. The weapon had dropped from its case in the fall. +Luke brandished it before his eyes. + +"Villain!" gasped Hugh, ineffectually struggling to free himself, "you +will not murder me?" And his efforts to release himself became +desperate. + +"No," answered Luke, flinging the uplifted knife into the brook. "I will +not do _that_, though thou hast twice aimed at my life to-night. But I +will silence thee, at all events." Saying which, he dealt the keeper a +blow on the head that terminated all further resistance on his part. + +Leaving the inert mass to choke up the current, with whose waters the +blood, oozing from the wound, began to commingle, Luke prepared to +depart. His perils were not yet past. Guided by the firing, the report +of which alarmed them, the keeper's assistants hastened in the direction +of the sound, presenting themselves directly in the path Luke was about +to take. He had either to retrace his steps, or face a double enemy. His +election was made at once. He turned and fled. + +For an instant the men tarried with their bleeding companion. They then +dragged him from the brook, and with loud oaths followed in pursuit. + +Threading, for a second time, the bosky labyrinth, Luke sought the +source of the stream. This was precisely the course his enemies would +have desired him to pursue; and when they beheld him take it, they felt +confident of his capture. + +The sides of the hollow became more and more abrupt as they advanced, +though they were less covered with brushwood. The fugitive made no +attempt to climb the bank, but still pressed forward. The road was +tortuous, and wound round a jutting point of rock. Now he was a fair +mark--no, he had swept swiftly by, and was out of sight before a gun +could be raised. They reached the same point. He was still before them, +but his race was nearly run. Steep, slippery rocks, shelving down to the +edges of a small, deep pool of water, the source of the stream, formed +an apparently insurmountable barrier in that direction. Rooted--Heaven +knows how!--in some reft or fissure of the rock, grew a wild ash, +throwing out a few boughs over the solitary pool; this was all the +support Luke could hope for, should he attempt to scale the rock. The +rock was sheer--the pool deep--yet still he hurried on. He reached the +muddy embankment; mounted its sides; and seemed to hesitate. The keepers +were now within a hundred yards of him. Both guns were discharged. And, +sudden as the reports, with a dead, splashless plunge, like a diving +otter, the fugitive dropped into the water. + +The pursuers were at the brink. They gazed at the pool. A few bubbles +floated upon its surface, and burst. The water was slightly discolored +with sand. No ruddier stain crimsoned the tide; no figure rested on the +naked rock; no hand clung to the motionless tree. + +"Devil take the rascal!" growled one; "I hope he harn't escaped us, +arter all." + +"Noa, noa, he be fast enough, never fear," rejoined the other; "sticking +like a snig at the bottom o' the pond; and, dang him! he deserves it, +for he's slipped out of our fingers like a snig often enough to-night. +But come, let's be stumping, and give poor Hugh Badger a helping hand." + +Whereupon they returned to the assistance of the wounded and discomfited +keeper. + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_THE HALL_ + + I am right against my house--seat of my ancestors. + + _Yorkshire Tragedy._ + + +Rookwood Place was a fine, old, irregular pile, of considerable size, +presenting a rich, picturesque outline, with its innumerable gable-ends, +its fantastical coigns, and tall crest of twisted chimneys. There was no +uniformity of style about the building, yet the general effect was +pleasing and beautiful. Its very irregularity constituted a charm. +Nothing except convenience had been consulted in its construction: +additions had from time to time been made to it, but everything dropped +into its proper place, and, without apparent effort or design, grew into +an ornament, and heightened the beauty of the whole. It was, in short, +one of those glorious manorial houses that sometimes unexpectedly greet +us in our wanderings, and gladden us like the discovery of a hidden +treasure. Some such ancestral hall we have occasionally encountered, in +unlooked-for quarters, in our native county of Lancaster, or in its +smiling sister shire; and never without feelings of intense delight, +rejoicing to behold the freshness of its antiquity, and the greenness of +its old age. For, be it observed in passing, a Cheshire or Lancashire +hall, time-honored though it be, with its often renovated black and +white squares, fancifully filled up with trefoils and quatrefoils, +rosettes, and other figures, seems to bear its years so lightly, that +its age, so far from detracting from its beauty, only lends it a grace; +and the same mansion, to all outward appearance, fresh and perfect as it +existed in the days of good Queen Bess, may be seen in admirable +preservation in the days of the youthful Victoria. Such is Bramall--such +Moreton, and many another we might instance; the former of these houses +may, perhaps, be instanced as the best specimen of its class,--and its +class in our opinion, _is_ the best--to be met with in Cheshire, +considered with reference either to the finished decoration of its +exterior, rich in the chequered coloring we have alluded to, preserved +with a care and neatness almost Dutch, or to the consistent taste +exhibited by its possessor to the restoration and maintenance of all its +original and truly national beauty within doors. As an illustration of +old English hospitality--that real, hearty hospitality for which the +squirearchy of this country was once so famous--Ah! why have they +bartered it for other customs less substantially _English_?--it may be +mentioned, that a road conducted the passenger directly through the +great hall of this house, literally "of entertainment," where, if he +listed, strong ale, and other refreshments, awaited his acceptance and +courted his stay. Well might old King, the Cheshire historian, in the +pride of his honest heart, exclaim, "_I know divers men, who are but +farmers, that in their housekeeping may compare with a lord or baron, +in some countries beyond the seas;--yea, although I named a higher +degree, I were able to justify it._" We have no such "golden farmers" in +these degenerate days! + +The mansion, was originally built by Sir Ranulph de Rookwood--or, as it +was then written, Rokewode--the first of the name, a stout Yorkist, who +flourished in the reign of Edward IV., and received the fair domain and +broad lands upon which the edifice was raised, from his sovereign, in +reward for good service; retiring thither in the decline of life, at the +close of the Wars of the Roses, to sequestrate himself from scenes of +strife, and to consult his spiritual weal in the erection and endowment +of the neighboring church. It was of mixed architecture, and combined +the peculiarities of each successive era. Retaining some of the sterner +features of earlier days, the period ere yet the embattled manor-house +peculiar to the reigns of the later Henrys had been merged into the +graceful and peaceable hall, the residence of the Rookwoods had early +anticipated the gentler characteristics of a later day, though it could +boast little of that exuberance of external ornament, luxuriance of +design, and prodigality of beauty, which, under the sway of the Virgin +Queen, distinguished the residence of the wealthier English landowner; +and rendered the hall of Elizabeth, properly so called, the pride and +boast of our domestic architecture. + +The site selected by Sir Ranulph for his habitation had been already +occupied by a vast fabric of oak, which he in part removed, though some +vestiges might still be traced of that ancient pile. A massive edifice +succeeded, with gate and tower, court and moat complete; substantial +enough, one would have thought, to have endured for centuries. But even +this ponderous structure grew into disuse, and Sir Ranulph's successors, +remodelling, repairing, almost rebuilding the whole mansion, in the end +so metamorphosed its aspect, that at last little of its original and +distinctive character remained. Still, as we said before, it was a fine +old house, though some changes had taken place for the worse, which +could not be readily pardoned by the eye of taste: as, for instance, +the deep embayed windows had dwindled into modernized casements, of +lighter construction; the wide porch, with its flight of steps leading +to the great hall of entrance, had yielded to a narrow door; and the +broad quadrangular court was succeeded by a gravel drive. Yet, despite +all these changes, the house of the Rookwoods, for an old house--and, +after all, what is like an old house?--was no undesirable or uncongenial +abode for any worshipful country gentleman "who had a great estate." + +The hall was situated near the base of a gently declining hill, +terminating a noble avenue of limes, and partially embosomed in an +immemorial wood of the same timber, which had given its name to the +family that dwelt amongst its rook-haunted shades. Descending the +avenue, at the point of access afforded by a road that wound down the +hill-side, towards a village distant about half a mile, as you advanced, +the eye was first arrested by a singular octagonal turret of brick, of +more recent construction than the house; and in all probability +occupying the place where the gateway stood of yore. This tower rose to +a height corresponding with the roof of the mansion; and was embellished +on the side facing the house with a flamingly gilt dial, peering, like +an impudent observer, at all that passed within doors. Two apartments, +which it contained, were appropriated to the house-porter. Despoiled of +its martial honors, the gateway still displayed the achievements of the +family--the rook and the fatal branch--carved in granite, which had +resisted the storms of two centuries, though stained green with moss, +and mapped over with lichens. To the left, overgrown with ivy, and +peeping from out a tuft of trees, appeared the hoary summit of a +dovecot, indicating the near neighborhood of an ancient barn, +contemporary with the earliest dwelling-house, and of a little world of +offices and outbuildings buried in the thickness of the foliage. To the +right was the garden--the pleasaunce of the place--formal, precise, +old-fashioned, artificial, yet exquisite!--for commend us to the +bygone, beautiful English garden--_really a garden_--not that mixture of +park, meadow, and wilderness[3], brought up to one's very +windows--which, since the days of the innovators, Kent, and his "bold +associates," Capability Brown and Co., has obtained so largely--this +_was_ a garden! There might be seen the stately terraces, such as +Watteau, and our own Wilson, in his earlier works, painted--the trim +alleys exhibiting all the triumphs of topiarian art-- + + _The sidelong walls + Of shaven yew; the holly's prickly arms, + Trimm'd into high arcades; the tonsile box, + Wove in mosaic mode of many a curl, + Around the figured carpet of the lawn;_[4] + +the gayest of parterres and greenest of lawns, with its admonitory +sun-dial, its marble basin in the centre, its fountain, and conched +water-god; the quaint summer-house, surmounted with its gilt vane; the +statue, glimmering from out its covert of leaves; the cool cascade, the +urns, the bowers, and a hundred luxuries besides, suggested and +contrived by Art to render Nature most enjoyable, and to enhance the +recreative delights of home-out-of-doors--for such a garden should be--, +with least sacrifice of indoor comfort and convenience. + + _When Epicurus to the world had taught, + That pleasure was the chiefest good; + --And was perhaps i' th' right, if rightly understood, + His life he to his doctrine brought-- + And in his garden's shade that sovereign pleasure sought._[5] + +All these delights might once have been enjoyed. But at the time of +which we write, this fair garden was for the most part a waste. +Ill-kept, and unregarded, the gay parterres were disfigured with weeds; +grass grew on the gravel walk; several of the urns were overthrown; the +hour upon the dial was untold; the fountain was choked up, and the +smooth-shaven lawn only rescued, it would seem, from the general fate, +that it might answer the purpose of a bowling-green, as the implements +of that game, scattered about, plainly testified. + +Diverging from the garden to the house, we have before remarked that the +more ancient and characteristic features of the place had been, for the +most part, destroyed; less by the hand of time than to suit the tastes +of different proprietors. This, however, was not so observable in the +eastern wing, which overlooked the garden. Here might be discerned many +indications of its antiquity. The strength and solidity of the walls, +which had not been, as elsewhere, masked with brickwork; the low, Tudor +arches; the mullioned bars of the windows--all attested its age. This +wing was occupied by an upper and lower gallery, communicating with +suites of chambers, for the most part deserted, excepting one or two, +which were used as dormitories; and another little room on the +ground-floor, with an oriel window opening upon the lawn, and commanding +the prospect beyond--a favorite resort of the late Sir Piers. The +interior was curious for his honeycomb ceiling, deeply moulded in +plaster, with the arms and alliances of the Rookwoods. In the centre was +the royal blazon of Elizabeth, who had once honored the hall with a +visit during a progress, and whose cipher E. R. was also displayed upon +the immense plate of iron which formed the fire-grate. + +To return, for a moment, to the garden, which we linger about as a bee +around a flower. Below the lawn there was another terrace, edged by a +low balustrade of stone, commanding a lovely view of park, water, and +woodland. High hanging-woods waved in the foreground, and an extensive +sweep of flat champaign country stretched out to meet a line of blue, +hazy hills bounding the distant horizon. + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_SIR REGINALD ROOKWOOD_ + + A king who changed his wives as easily as a woman changes her dress. + He threw aside the first, cut off the second's head, the third he + disemboweled: as for the fourth, he pardoned her, and simply turned + her out of doors, but to make matters even, cut off the head of + number five.--VICTOR HUGO: _Marie Tudor_. + + +From the house to its inhabitants the transition is natural. Besides the +connexion between them, there were many points of resemblance; many +family features in common; there was the same melancholy grandeur, the +same character of romance, the same fantastical display. Nor were the +secret passages, peculiar to the one, wanting to the history of the +other. Both had their mysteries. One blot there was in the otherwise +proud escutcheon of the Rookwoods, that dimmed its splendor, and made +pale its pretensions: their sun was eclipsed in blood from its rising to +its meridian; and so it seemed would be its setting. This foul reproach +attached to all the race; none escaped it. Traditional rumors were +handed down from father to son, throughout the county, and, like all +other rumors, had taken to themselves wings, and flown abroad; their +crimes became a by-word. How was it they escaped punishment? How came +they to evade the hand of justice? Proof was ever wanting; justice was +ever baffled. They were a stern and stiff-necked people, of indomitable +pride and resolution, with, for the most part, force of character +sufficient to enable them to breast difficulties and dangers that would +have overwhelmed ordinary individuals. No quality is so advantageous to +its possessor as firmness; and the determined energy of the Rookwoods +bore them harmless through a sea of trouble. Besides, they were +wealthy; lavish even to profusion; and gold will do much, if skilfully +administered. Yet, despite all this, a dark, ominous cloud settled over +their house, and men wondered when the vengeance of Heaven, so long +delayed, would fall and consume it. + +Possessed of considerable landed property, once extending over nearly +half the West Riding of Yorkshire, the family increased in power and +importance for an uninterrupted series of years, until the outbreak of +that intestine discord which ended in the civil wars, when the espousal +of the royalist party, with sword and substance, by Sir Ralph Rookwood, +the then lord of the mansion--a dissolute, depraved personage, who, +however, had been made a Knight of the Bath at the coronation of Charles +I.--, ended in his own destruction at Naseby, and the wreck of much of +his property; a loss which the gratitude of Charles II., on his +restoration, did not fail to make good to Sir Ralph's youthful heir, +Reginald. + +Sir Ralph Rookwood left two sons, Reginald and Alan. The fate of the +latter was buried in obscurity. It was even a mystery to his family. He +was, it was said, a youth of much promise, and of gentle manners; who, +having made an imprudent match, from jealousy, or some other motive, +deserted his wife, and fled his country. Various reasons were assigned +for his conduct. Amongst others, it was stated that the object of Alan's +jealous suspicions was his elder brother, Reginald; and that it was the +discovery of his wife's infidelity in this quarter which occasioned his +sudden disappearance with his infant daughter. Some said he died abroad. +Others, that he had appeared again for a brief space at the hall. But +all now concurred in a belief of his decease. Of his child nothing was +known. His inconstant wife, after enduring for some years the agonies of +remorse, abandoned by Sir Reginald, and neglected by her own relatives, +put an end to her existence by poison. This is all that could be +gathered of the story, or the misfortunes of Alan Rookwood. + +The young Sir Reginald had attended Charles, in the character of page, +during his exile; and if he could not requite the devotion of the son, +by absolutely reinstating the fallen fortunes of the father, the monarch +could at least accord him the fostering influence of his favor and +countenance; and bestow upon him certain lucrative situations in his +household, as an earnest of his good-will. And thus much he did. +Remarkable for his personal attractions in youth, it is not to be +wondered at that we should find the name of Reginald Rookwood recorded +in the scandalous chronicles of the day, as belonging to a cavalier of +infinite address and discretion, matchless wit, and marvellous +pleasantry; and eminent beyond his peers for his successes with some of +the most distinguished beauties who ornamented that brilliant and +voluptuous court. + +A career of elegant dissipation ended in matrimony. His first match was +unpropitious. Foiled in his attempts upon the chastity of a lady of +great beauty and high honor, he was rash enough to marry her; rash, we +say, for from that fatal hour all became as darkness; the curtain fell +upon the comedy of his life, to rise to tragic horrors. When, passion +subsided, repentance awoke, and he became anxious for deliverance from +the fetters he had so heedlessly imposed on himself, and on his +unfortunate dame. + +The hapless lady of Sir Reginald was a fair and fragile creature, +floating on the eddying current of existence, and hurried in destruction +as the summer gossamer is swept away by the rude breeze, and lost +forever. So beautiful, so gentle was she, that if, + + Sorrow had not made + Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self, + +it would have been difficult to say whether the charm of softness and +sweetness was more to be admired than her faultless personal +attractions. But when a tinge of melancholy came, saddening and shading +the once smooth and smiling brow; when tears dimmed the blue beauty of +those deep and tender eyes; when hot, hectic flushes supplied the place +of healthful bloom, and despair took possession of her heart, then was +it seen _what_ was the charm of Lady Rookwood, if charm that could be +called which was a saddening sight to see, and melted the beholder's +soul within him. All acknowledged, that exquisite as she had been +before, the sad, sweet lady was now more exquisite still. + +Seven moons had waned and flown--seven bitter, tearful moons--and each +day Lady Rookwood's situation claimed more soothing attention at the +hand of her lord. About this time his wife's brother, whom he hated, +returned from the Dutch wars. Struck with his sister's altered +appearance, he readily divined the cause; indeed, all tongues were eager +to proclaim it to him. Passionately attached to her, Lionel Vavasour +implored an explanation of the cause of his sister's griefs. The +bewildered lady answered evasively, attributing her woe-begone looks to +any other cause than her husband's cruelty; and pressing her brother, as +he valued her peace, her affection, never to allude to the subject +again. The fiery youth departed. He next sought out his brother-in-law, +and taxed him sharply with his inhumanity, adding threats to his +upbraidings. Sir Reginald listened silently and calmly. When the other +had finished, with a sarcastic obeisance, he replied: "Sir, I am much +beholden for the trouble you have taken in your sister's behalf. But +when she entrusted herself to my keeping, she relinquished, I conceive, +all claim on _your_ guardianship: however, I thank you for the trouble +you have taken; but, for your own sake, I would venture to caution you +against a repetition of interference like the present." + +"And I, sir, caution _you_. See that you give heed to my words, or, by +the heaven above us! I will enforce attention to them." + +"You will find me, sir, as prompt at all times to defend my conduct, as +I am unalterable in my purposes. Your sister is my wife. What more would +you have? Were she a harlot, you should have her back and welcome. The +tool is virtuous. Devise some scheme, and take her with you hence--so +you rid _me_ of her I am content." + +"Rookwood, you are a villain." And Vavasour spat upon his brother's +cheek. + +Sir Reginald's eyes blazed. His sword started from its scabbard. "Defend +yourself!" he exclaimed, furiously attacking Vavasour. Pass after pass +was exchanged. Fierce thrusts were made and parried. Feint and appeal, +the most desperate and dexterous, were resorted to. Their swords glanced +like lightning flashes. In the struggle, the blades became entangled. +There was a moment's cessation. Each glanced at the other with deadly, +inextinguishable hate. Both were admirable masters of the art of +defence. Both were so brimful of wrath as to be regardless of +consequences. They tore back their weapons. Vavasour's blade shivered. +He was at the mercy of his adversary--an adversary who knew no mercy. +Sir Reginald passed his rapier through his brother's body. The hilt +struck against his ribs. + +Sir Reginald's ire was kindled, not extinguished, by the deed he had +done. Like the tiger, he had tasted blood--like the tiger, he thirsted +for more. He sought his home. He was greeted by his wife. Terrified by +his looks, she yet summoned courage sufficient to approach him. She +embraced his arm--she clasped his hand. Sir Reginald smiled. His smile +was cutting as his dagger's edge. + +"What ails you, sweetheart?" said he. + +"I know not; your smile frightens me." + +"My smile frightens you--fool! be thankful that I frown not." + +"Oh! do not frown. Be gentle, my Reginald, as you were when first I knew +you. Smile not so coldly, but as you did then, that I may, for one +instant, dream you love me." + +"Silly wench! There--I _do_ smile." + +"That smile freezes me. Oh, Reginald, could you but know what I have +endured this morning, on your account. My brother Lionel has been here." + +"Indeed!" + +"Nay, look not so. He insisted on knowing the reason of my altered +appearance." + +"And no doubt you made him acquainted with the cause. You told him +_your_ version of the story." + +"Not a word, as I hope to live." + +"A lie!" + +"By my truth, no." + +"A lie, I say. He avouched it to me himself." + +"Impossible! He could not--would not disobey me." + +Sir Reginald laughed bitterly. + +"He would not, I am sure, give utterance to any scandal," continued Lady +Rookwood. "You say this but to try me, do you not?--ha! what is this? +Your hand is bloody. You have not harmed him? Whose blood is this?" + +"Your brother spat upon my check. I have washed out the stain," replied +Sir Reginald, coldly. + +"Then it _is_ his blood!" shrieked Lady Rookwood, pressing her hand +shuddering before her eyes. "Is he dead?" + +Sir Reginald turned away. + +"Stay," she cried, exerting her feeble strength to retain him, and +becoming white as ashes, "abide and hear me. You have killed me, I feel, +by your cruelty. I am sinking fast--dying. I, who loved you, only you; +yes, one besides--my brother, and you have slain _him_. Your hands are +dripping in his blood, and I have kissed them--have clasped them! And +now," continued she, with an energy that shook Sir Reginald, "I hate +you--I renounce you--forever! May my dying words ring in your ears on +your death-bed, for that hour _will_ come. You cannot shun _that_. Then +think of _him_! think of _me_!" + +"Away!" interrupted Sir Reginald, endeavoring to shake her off. + +"I will _not_ away! I will cling to you--will curse you. My unborn child +shall live to curse you--to requite you--to visit my wrongs on you and +yours. Weak as I am, you shall not cast me off. You shall learn to fear +even _me_." + +"I fear nothing living, much less a frantic woman." + +"Fear the _dead_, then." + +There was a struggle--a blow--and the wretched lady sank, shrieking, +upon the floor. Convulsions seized her. A mother's pains succeeded +fierce and fast. She spoke no more, but died within the hour, giving +birth to a female child. + +Eleanor Rookwood became her father's idol--her father's bane. All the +love he had to bestow was centred in her. She returned it not. She fled +from his caresses. With all her mother's beauty, she had all her +father's pride. Sir Reginald's every thought was for his daughter--for +her aggrandizement. In vain. She seemed only to endure him, and while +his affection waxed stronger, and entwined itself round her alone, she +withered beneath his embraces as the shrub withers in the clasping folds +of the parasite plant. + +She grew towards womanhood. Suitors thronged around her--gentle and +noble ones. Sir Reginald watched them with a jealous eye. He was +wealthy, powerful, high in royal favor; and could make his own election. +He did so. For the first time, Eleanor promised obedience to his wishes. +They accorded with her own humor. The day was appointed. It came. But +with it came not the bride. She had fled, with the humblest and the +meanest of the pretenders to her hand--with one upon whom Sir Reginald +supposed she had not deigned to cast her eyes. He endeavored to forget +her, and, to all outward seeming, was successful in the effort. But he +felt that the curse was upon him; the undying flame scorched his heart. + +Once, and once only, they met again, in France, whither she had +wandered. It was a dread encounter--terrible to both; but most so to +Sir Reginald. He spoke not of her afterwards. + +Shortly after the death of his first wife, Sir Reginald had made +proposals to a dowager of distinction, with a handsome jointure, one of +his early attachments, and was, without scruple, accepted. The power of +the family might then be said to be at its zenith; and but for certain +untoward circumstances, and the growing influence of his enemies, Sir +Reginald would have been elevated to the peerage. Like most reformed +spend-thrifts, he had become proportionately avaricious, and his mind +seemed engrossed in accumulating wealth. In the meantime, his second +wife followed her predecessor, dying, it was said, of vexation and +disappointment. + +The propensity to matrimony, always a distinguishing characteristic of +the Rookwoods, largely displayed itself in Sir Reginald. Another dame +followed--equally rich, younger, and far more beautiful than her +immediate predecessor. She was a prodigious flirt, and soon set her +husband at defiance. Sir Reginald did not condescend to expostulate. It +was not his way. He effectually prevented any recurrence of her +indiscretions. She was removed, and with her expired Sir Reginald's +waning popularity. So strong was the expression of odium against him, +that he thought it prudent to retire to his mansion, in the country, and +there altogether seclude himself. One anomaly in Sir Reginald's +otherwise utterly selfish character was uncompromising devotion to the +house of Stuart; and shortly after the abdication of James II., he +followed that monarch to Saint Germain, having previously mixed largely +in secret political intrigues; and only returned from the French court +to lay his bones with those of his ancestry, in the family vault at +Rookwood. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI_ + +_SIR PIERS ROOKWOOD_ + + My old master kept a good house, and twenty or thirty tall + sword-and-buckler men about him; and in faith his son differs not + much; he will have metal too; though he has no store of cutler's + blades, he will have plenty of vintners' pots. His father kept a + good house for honest men, his tenants that brought him in part; and + his son keeps a bad house with knaves that help to consume all: 'tis + but the change of time: why should any man repine at it? Crickets, + good, loving, and lucky worms, were wont to feed, sing, and rejoice + in the father's chimney; and now carrion crows build in the son's + kitchen. + + WILKINS: _Miseries of Enforced Marriage_. + + +Sir Reginald died, leaving issue three children: a daughter, the +before-mentioned Eleanor--who, entirely discountenanced by the family, +had been seemingly forgotten by all but her father--, and two sons by +his third wife. Reginald, the eldest, whose military taste had early +procured him the command of a company of horse, and whose politics did +not coalesce with those of his sire, fell, during his father's lifetime, +at Killiecrankie, under the banners of William. Piers, therefore, the +second son, succeeded to the title. + +A very different character, in many respects, from his father and +brother, holding in supreme dislike courts and courtiers, party warfare, +political intrigue, and all the subtleties of Jesuitical diplomacy, +neither having any inordinate relish for camps or campaigns, Sir Piers +Rookwood yet displayed in early life one family propensity, viz., +unremitting devotion to the sex. Among his other mistresses was the +unfortunate Susan Bradley, in whom by some he was supposed to have been +clandestinely united. In early youth, as has been stated, Sir Piers +professed the faith of Rome, but shortly after the death of his +beautiful mistress--or wife, as it might be--, having quarreled with his +father's confessor, Checkley, he publicly abjured his heresies. Sir +Piers subsequently allied himself to Maud, only daughter of Sir Thomas +D'Aubeny, the last of a line as proud and intolerant as his own. The +tables were then turned. Lady Rookwood usurped sovereign sway over her +lord and Sir Piers, a cipher in his own house, scarce master of himself, +much less of his dame, endured an existence so miserable, that he was +often heard to regret, in his cups, that he had not inherited, with the +estate of his forefathers, the family secret of shaking off the +matrimonial yoke, when found to press too hardly. + +At the onset, Sir Piers struggled hard to burst his bondage. But in +vain--he was fast fettered; and only bruised himself, like the caged +lark, against the bars of his prison-house. Abandoning all further +effort at emancipation, he gave himself up to the usual resource of a +weak mind, debauchery; and drank so deeply to drown his cares, that, in +the end, his hale constitution yielded to his excesses. It was even +said, that remorse at his abandonment of the faith of his fathers had +some share in his misery; and that his old spiritual, and if report +spoke truly, sinful adviser, Father Checkley, had visited him secretly +at the hall. Sir Piers was observed to shudder whenever the priest's +name was mentioned. + +Sir Piers Rookwood was a good-humored man in the main, had little of the +old family leaven about him, and was esteemed by his associates. Of +late, however, his temper became soured, and his friends deserted him; +for, between his domestic annoyances, remorseful feelings, and the +inroads already made upon his constitution by constant inebriety, he +grew so desperate and insane in his revels, and committed such fearful +extravagances, that even his boon companions shrank from his orgies. +Fearful were the scenes between him and Lady Rookwood upon these +occasions--appalling to the witnesses, dreadful to themselves. And it +was, perhaps, their frequent recurrence, that, more than anything else, +banished all decent society from the hall. + +At the time of Sir Piers's decease, which brings us down to the date of +our story, his son and successor, Ranulph, was absent on his travels. +Shortly after the completion of his academical education, he had +departed to make the tour of the Continent, and had been absent rather +better than a year. He had quitted his father in displeasure, and was +destined never again to see his face while living. The last intelligence +received of young Rookwood was from Bordeaux, whence it was thought he +had departed for the Pyrenees. A special messenger had been despatched +in search of him, with tidings of the melancholy event. But, as it was +deemed improbable by Lady Rookwood that her son could return within any +reasonable space, she gave directions for the accomplishment of the +funeral rites of her husband on the sixth night after his decease--it +being the custom of the Rookwoods ever to inter their dead at +midnight,--intrusting their solemnization entirely to the care of one of +Sir Piers's hangers-on--Dr. Titus Tyrconnel,--for which she was greatly +scandalized in the neighborhood. + +Ranulph Rookwood was a youth of goodly promise. The stock from which he +sprang would on neither side warrant such conclusion. But it sometimes +happens that from the darkest elements are compounded the brightest and +subtlest substances; and so it occurred in this instance. Fair, frank, +and free--generous, open, unsuspicious--he seemed the very opposite of +all his race--their antagonizing principle. Capriciously indulgent, his +father had allowed him ample means, neither curbing nor restraining his +expenditure; acceding at one moment to every inclination, and the next +irresolutely opposing it. It was impossible, therefore, for him, in such +a state of things, to act decidedly, without incurring his father's +displeasure; and the only measure he resolved upon, which was to absent +himself for a time, was conjectured to have brought about the result he +had endeavored to avoid. Other reasons, however, there were, which +secretly influenced him, which it will be our business in due time to +detail. + + + + +_CHAPTER VII_ + +_THE RETURN_ + + _Flam._ How croaks the raven? + Is our good Duchess dead? + + _Lod._ Dead. + + WEBSTER. + + +The time of the sad ceremonial drew nigh. The hurrying of the domestics +to and fro; the multifarious arrangements for the night; the +distribution of the melancholy trappings, and the discussion of the +"funeral-baked meats," furnished abundant occupation within doors. +Without, there was a constant stream of the tenantry, thronging down the +avenue, mixed with an occasional horseman, once or twice intercepted by +a large lumbering carriage, bringing friends of the deceased, some +really anxious to pay the last tribute of regard, but the majority +attracted by the anticipated spectacle of a funeral by torchlight. There +were others, indeed, to whom it was not matter of choice; who were +compelled, by a vassal tenure of their lands, held of the house of +Rookwood, to lend a shoulder to the coffin, and a hand to the torch, on +the burial of its lord. Of these there was a plentiful muster collected +in the hall; they were to be marshalled by Peter Bradley, who was deemed +to be well skilled in the proceedings, having been present at two +solemnities of the kind. That mysterious personage, however, had not +made his appearance--to the great dismay of the assemblage. Scouts were +sent in search of him, but they returned with the intelligence that the +door of his habitation was fastened, and its inmate apparently absent. +No other tidings of the truant sexton could be obtained. + +It was a sultry August evening. No breeze was stirring in the garden; no +cool dews refreshed the parched and heated earth; yet from the +languishing flowers rich sweets exhaled. The plash of a fountain fell +pleasantly upon the ear, conveying in its sound a sense of freshness to +the fervid air; while deep and drowsy murmurs hummed heavily beneath the +trees, making the twilight slumberously musical. The westering sun, +which filled the atmosphere with flame throughout the day, was now +wildly setting; and, as he sank behind the hall, its varied and +picturesque tracery became each instant more darkly and distinctly +defined against the crimson sky. + +At this juncture a little gate, communicating with the chase, was thrown +open, and a young man entered the garden, passing through the shrubbery, +and hurrying rapidly forward till he arrived at a vista opening upon the +house. The spot at which the stranger halted was marked by a little +basin, scantily supplied with water, streaming from a lion's kingly +jaws. His dress was travel-soiled, and dusty; and his whole appearance +betokened great exhaustion from heat and fatigue. Seating himself upon +an adjoining bench, he threw off his riding-cap, and unclasped his +collar, displaying a finely-turned head and neck; and a countenance +which, besides its beauty, had that rare nobility of feature which +seldom falls to the lot of the aristocrat, but is never seen in one of +an inferior order. A restless disquietude of manner showed that he was +suffering from over-excitement of mind, as well as from bodily exertion. +His look was wild and hurried; his black ringlets were dashed heedlessly +over a pallid, lofty brow, upon which care was prematurely written; +while his large melancholy eyes were bent, with a look almost of agony, +upon the house before him. + +After a short pause, and as if struggling against violent emotions, and +some overwhelming remembrance, the youth arose, and plunged his hand +into the basin, applying the moist element to his burning brow. +Apparently becoming more calm, he bent his steps towards the hall, when +two figures, suddenly issuing from an adjoining copse, arrested his +progress; neither saw him. Muttering a hurried farewell, one of the +figures disappeared within the shrubbery, and the other, confronting the +stranger, displayed the harsh features and gaunt form of Peter Bradley. +Had Peter encountered the dead Sir Piers in corporeal form, he could not +have manifested more surprise than he exhibited, for an instant or two, +as he shrunk back from the stranger's path. + + + + +_CHAPTER VIII_ + +_AN IRISH ADVENTURER_ + + _Scapin._ A most outrageous, roaring fellow, with a swelled red face + inflamed with brandy.--_Cheats of Scapin._ + + +An hour or two prior to the incident just narrated, in a small, cosy +apartment of the hall, nominally devoted to justiciary business by its +late owner, but, in reality, used as a sanctum, snuggery, or +smoking-room, a singular trio were assembled, fraught with the ulterior +purpose of attending the obsequies of their deceased patron and friend, +though immediately occupied in the discussion of a magnum of excellent +claret, the bouquet of which perfumed the air, like the fragrance of a +bed of violets. + +This little room had been poor Sir Piers's favorite retreat. It was, in +fact, the only room in the house that he could call his own; and thither +would he often, with pipe and punch, beguile the flagging hours, secure +from interruption. A snug, old-fashioned apartment it was; wainscoted +with rich black oak; with a fine old cabinet of the same material, and a +line or two of crazy, worm-eaten bookshelves, laden with sundry dusty, +unconsulted law tomes, and a light sprinkling of the elder divines, +equally neglected. The only book, indeed, Sir Piers ever read, was the +"Anatomie of Melancholy;" and he merely studied Burton because the +quaint, racy style of the learned old hypochondriac suited his humor at +seasons, and gave a zest to his sorrows, such as the olives lent to his +wine. + +Four portraits adorned the walls: those of Sir Reginald Rookwood and his +wives. The ladies were attired in the flowing drapery of Charles the +Second's day, the snow of their radiant bosoms being somewhat sullied by +over-exposure, and the vermeil tinting of their cheeks darkened by the +fumes of tobacco. There was a shepherdess, with her taper crook, whose +large, languishing eyes, ripe pouting lips, ready to melt into kisses, +and air of voluptuous abandonment, scarcely suited the innocent +simplicity of her costume. She was portrayed tending a flock of downy +sheep, with azure ribbons round their necks, accompanied by one of those +invaluable little dogs whose length of ear and silkiness of skin evinced +him perfect in his breeding, but whose large-eyed indifference to his +charge proved him to be as much out of character with his situation as +the refined and luxuriant charms of his mistress were out of keeping +with her artless attire. This was Sir Piers's mother, the third wife, a +beautiful woman, answering to the notion of one who had been somewhat of +a flirt in her day. Next to her was a magnificent dame, with the throat +and arm of a Juno, and a superb bust--the bust was then what the bustle +is now--a paramount attraction; whether the modification be an +improvement, we leave to the consideration of the lovers of the +beautiful--this was the dowager. Lastly, there was the lovely and +ill-fated Eleanor. Every gentle grace belonging to this unfortunate lady +had been stamped in undying beauty on the canvas by the hand of Lely, +breathing a spell on the picture, almost as powerful as that which had +dwelt around the exquisite original. Over the high carved mantelpiece +was suspended the portrait of Sir Reginald. It had been painted in +early youth; the features were beautiful, disdainful,--with a fierceness +breaking through the courtly air. The eyes were very fine, black as +midnight, and piercing as those of Caesar Borgia, as seen in Raphael's +wonderful picture in the Borghese Palace at Rome. They seemed to +fascinate the gazer--to rivet his glances--to follow him whithersoever +he went--and to search into his soul, as did the dark orbs of Sir +Reginald in his lifetime. It was the work likewise of Lely, and had all +the fidelity and graceful refinement of that great master; nor was the +haughty countenance of Sir Reginald unworthy the patrician painter. + +No portrait of Sir Piers was to be met with. But in lieu thereof, +depending from a pair of buck's horns, hung the worthy knight's stained +scarlet coat--the same in which he had ridden forth, with the intent to +hunt, on the eventful occasion detailed by Peter Bradley,--his velvet +cap, his buck-handled whip, and the residue of his equipment for the +chase. This attire was reviewed with melancholy interest and unaffected +emotion by the company, as reminding them forcibly of the departed, of +which it seemed a portion. + +The party consisted of the vicar of Rookwood, Dr. Polycarp Small; Dr. +Titus Tyrconnel, an emigrant, and empirical professor of medicine, from +the sister isle, whose convivial habits had first introduced him to the +hall, and afterwards retained him there; and Mr. Codicil Coates, clerk +of the peace, attorney-at-law, bailiff, and receiver. We were wrong in +saying that Tyrconnel was retained. He was an impudent, intrusive +fellow, whom, having once gained a footing in the house, it was +impossible to dislodge. He cared for no insult; perceived no slight; and +professed, in her presence, the profoundest respect for Lady Rookwood: +in short, he was ever ready to do anything but depart. + +Sir Piers was one of those people who cannot dine alone. He disliked a +solitary repast almost as much as a _tete-a-tete_ with his lady. He +would have been recognized at once as the true Amphitryon, had any one +been hardy enough to play the part of Jupiter. Ever ready to give a +dinner, he found a difficulty arise, not usually experienced on such +occasions--there was no one upon whom to bestow it. He had the best of +wine; kept an excellent table; was himself no niggard host; but his own +merits, and those of his _cuisine_, were forgotten in the invariable +_pendant_ to the feast; and the best of wine lost its flavor when the +last bottle found its way to the guest's head. Dine alone Sir Piers +would not. And as his old friends forsook him, he plunged lower in his +search of society; collecting within his house a class of persons whom +no one would have expected to meet at the hall, nor even its owner have +chosen for his companions, had any choice remained to him. He did not +endure this state of things without much outward show of discontent. +"Anything for a quiet life," was his constant saying; and, like the +generality of people with whom those words form a favorite maxim, he led +the most uneasy life imaginable. Endurance, to excite commiseration, +must be uncomplaining--an axiom the aggrieved of the gentle sex should +remember. Sir Piers endured, but he grumbled lustily, and was on all +hands voted a bore; domestic grievances, especially if the husband be +the plaintiff, being the most intolerable of all mentionable miseries. +No wonder that his friends deserted him; still there was Titus +Tyrconnel; his ears and lips were ever open to pathos and to punch; so +Titus kept his station. Immediately after her husband's demise, it had +been Lady Rookwood's intention to clear the house of all the "vermin," +so she expressed herself, that had so long infested it; and forcibly to +eject Titus, and one or two other intruders of the same class. But in +consequence of certain hints received from Mr. Coates, who represented +the absolute necessity of complying with Sir Piers's testamentary +instructions, which were particular in that respect, she thought proper +to defer her intentions until after the ceremonial of interment should +be completed, and, in the mean time, strange to say, committed its +arrangement to Titus Tyrconnel; who, ever ready to accommodate, +accepted, nothing loth, the charge, and acquitted himself admirably well +in his undertaking: especially, as he said, "in the aiting and drinking +department--the most essential part of it all." He kept open house--open +dining-room--open cellar; resolved that his patron's funeral should +emulate as much as possible an Irish burial on a grand scale, "the +finest sight," in his opinion, "in the whole world." + +Inflated with the importance of his office, inflamed with heat, sat +Titus, like a "robustious periwig-pated" alderman after a civic feast. +The natural rubicundity of his countenance was darkened to a deep purple +tint, like that of a full-blown peony, while his ludicrous dignity was +augmented by a shining suit of sables, in which his portly person was +invested. + +The first magnum had been discussed in solemn silence; the cloud, +however, which hung over the conclave, disappeared under the genial +influence of "another and a better" bottle, and gave place to a denser +vapor, occasioned by the introduction of the pipe and its +accompaniments. + +Ensconced in a comfortable old chair--it is not every old chair that +_is_ comfortable,--with pipe in mouth, and in full unbuttoned ease, his +bushy cauliflower wig laid aside, by reason of the heat, reposed Dr. +Small. Small, indeed, was somewhat of a misnomer, as applied to the +worthy doctor, who, besides being no diminutive specimen of his kind, +entertained no insignificant opinion of himself. His height was +certainly not remarkable; but his width of shoulder--his sesquipedality +of stomach--and obesity of calf--these were unique! Of his origin we +know nothing; but presume he must, in some way or other, have been +connected with the numerous family of "the Smalls," who, according to +Christopher North, form the predominant portion of mankind. In +appearance, the doctor was short-necked and puffy, with a sodden, pasty +face, wherein were set eyes whose obliquity of vision was, in some +measure, redeemed by their expression of humor. He was accounted a man +of parts and erudition, and had obtained high honors at his university. +Rigidly orthodox, he abominated the very names of Papists and Jacobites, +amongst which heretical herd he classed his companion, Mr. Titus +Tyrconnel--Ireland being with him synonymous with superstition and +Catholicism--and every Irishman rebellious and schismatical. On this +head he was inclined to be disputatious. His prejudices did not prevent +him from passing the claret, nor from laughing, as heartily as a +plethoric asthma and sense of the decorum due to the occasion would +permit, at the quips and quirks of the Irishman, who, he admitted, +notwithstanding his heresies, was a pleasant fellow in the main. And +when, in addition to the flattery, a pipe had been insinuated by the +officious Titus, at the precise moment that Small yearned for his +afternoon's solace, yet scrupled to ask for it; when the door had been +made fast, and the first whiff exhaled, all his misgivings vanished, and +he surrendered himself to the soft seduction. In this Elysian state we +find him. + +"Ah! you may say that, Dr. Small," said Titus, in answer to some +observation of the vicar, "that's a most original apothegm. We all of us +hould our lives by a thrid. Och! many's the sudden finale I have seen. +Many's the fine fellow's heels tripped up unawares, when least expected. +Death hangs over our heads by a single hair, as your reverence says, +precisely like the sword of Dan Maclise,[6] the flatterer of Dinnish +what-do-you-call-him, ready to fall at a moment's notice, or no notice +at all--eh?--Mr. Coates. And that brings me back again to Sir +Piers--poor gentleman--ah! we sha'n't soon see the like of him again!" + +"Poor Sir Piers!" said Mr. Coates, a small man, in a scratch wig, with a +face red and round as an apple, and almost as diminutive. "It is to be +regretted that his over-conviviality should so much have hastened his +lamented demise." + +"Conviviality!" replied Titus; "no such thing--it was +apoplexy--extravasation of _sarum_." + +"Extra vase-ation of rum and water, you mean," replied Coates, who, like +all his tribe, rejoiced in a quibble. + +"The squire's ailment," continued Titus, "was a sanguineous effusion, as +we call it--positive determination of blood to the head, occasioned by a +low way he got into, just before his attack--a confirmed case of +hypochondriasis, as that _ould_ book Sir Piers was so fond of terms the +blue devils. He neglected the bottle, which, in a man who has been a +hard drinker all his life, is a bad sign. The lowering system never +answers--never. Doctor, I'll just trouble you"--for Small, in a fit of +absence, had omitted to pass the bottle, though not to help himself. +"Had he stuck to _this_"--holding up a glass, ruby bright--"the elixir +vitae--the grand panacea--he might have been hale and hearty at this +present moment, and as well as any of us. But he wouldn't be advised. To +my thinking, as that was the case, he'd have been all the better for a +little of your reverence's sperretual advice; and his conscience having +been relieved by confession and absolution, he might have opened a fresh +account with an aisy heart and clane breast." + +"I trust, sir," said Small, gravely withdrawing his pipe from his lips, +"that Sir Piers Rookwood addressed himself to a higher source than a +sinning creature of clay like himself for remission of his sins; but, if +there was any load of secret guilt that might have weighed heavy upon +his conscience, it is to be regretted that he refused the last offices +of the church, and died incommunicate. I was denied all admittance to +his chamber." + +"Exactly my case," said Mr. Coates, pettishly. "I was refused entrance, +though my business was of the utmost importance--certain +dispositions--special bequests--matter connected with his sister--for +though the estate is entailed, yet still there are charges--you +understand me--very strange to refuse to see _me_. Some people may +regret it--may live to regret it, I say--that's all. I've just sent up +a package to Lady Rookwood, which was not to be delivered till after Sir +Piers's death. Odd circumstance that--been in my custody a long +while--some reason to think Sir Piers meant to alter his will--ought to +have seen _me_--sad neglect!" + +"More's the pity. But it was none of poor Sir Piers's doing!" replied +Titus; "he had no will of his own, poor fellow, during his life, and the +devil a will was he likely to have after his death. It was all Lady +Rookwood's doing," added he, in a whisper. "I, his medical adviser and +confidential friend, was ordered out of the room; and, although I knew +it was as much as his life was worth to leave him for a moment in that +state, I was forced to comply: and, would you believe it, as I left the +room, I heard high words. Yes, doctor, as I hope to be saved, words of +anger from her at that awful juncture." + +The latter part of this speech was uttered in a low tone, and very +mysterious manner. The speakers drew so closely together, that the bowls +of their pipes formed a common centre, whence the stems radiated. A +momentary silence ensued, during which each man puffed for very life. +Small next knocked the ashes from his tube, and began to replenish it, +coughing significantly. Mr. Coates expelled a thin, curling stream of +vapor from a minute orifice in the corner of his almost invisible mouth, +and arched his eyebrows in a singular manner, as if he dared not trust +the expression of his thoughts to any other feature. Titus shook his +huge head, and, upon the strength of a bumper which he swallowed, +mustered resolution enough to unburden his bosom. + +"By my sowl," said he, mysteriously, "I've seen enough lately to +frighten any quiet gentleman out of his senses. I'll not get a wink of +sleep, I fear, for a week to come. There must have been something +dreadful upon Sir Piers's mind; sure--nay, there's no use in mincing the +matter with _you_--in a word, then, some crime too deep to be divulged." + +"Crime!" echoed Coates and Small, in a breath. + +"Ay, crime!" repeated Titus. "Whist! not so loud, lest any one should +overhear us. Poor Sir Piers, he's dead now. I'm sure you both loved him +as I did, and pity and pardon him if he was guilty; for certain am I +that no soul ever took its flight more heavily laden than did that of +our poor friend. Och! it was a terrible ending. But you shall hear _how_ +he died, and judge for yourselves. When I returned to his room after +Lady Rookwood's departure, I found him quite delirious. I knew death was +not far off then. One minute he was in the chase, cheering on the +hounds. 'Halloo! tallyho!' cried he: 'who clears that fence?--who swims +that stream?' The next, he was drinking, carousing, and hurrahing, at +the head of his table. 'Hip! hip! hip!'--as mad, and wild, and frantic +as ever he used to be when wine had got the better of him; and then all +of a sudden, in the midst of his shouting, he stopped, exclaiming, +'What! here again?--who let her in?--the door is fast--I locked it +myself. Devil! why did you open it?--you have betrayed me--she will +poison me--and I cannot resist. Ha! another! Who--who is that?--her face +is white--her hair hangs about her shoulders. Is she alive again? Susan! +Susan! why that look? You loved me well--too well. You will not drag me +to perdition! You will not appear against me! No, no, no--it is not in +your nature--you whom I doted on, whom I loved--whom I--but I +repented--I sorrowed--I prayed--prayed! Oh! oh! no prayers would avail. +Pray for me, Susan--for ever! _Your_ intercession may avail. It is not +too late. I will do justice to all. Bring me pen and ink--paper--I will +confess--_he_ shall have all. Where is my sister? I would speak with +her--would tell her--tell her. Call Alan Rookwood--I shall die before I +can tell it. Come hither,' said he to me. 'There is a dark, dreadful +secret on my mind--it must forth. Tell my sister--no, my senses +swim--Susan is near me--fury in her eyes--avenging fury--keep her off. +What is this white mass in my arms? what do I hold? is it the corpse by +my side, as it lay that long, long night? It is--it is. Cold, stiff, +stirless as then. White--horribly white--as when the moon, that would +not set, showed all its ghastliness. Ah! it moves, embraces me, stifles, +suffocates me. Help! remove the pillow. I cannot breathe--I choke--oh!' +And now I am coming to the strangest part of my story--and, strange as +it may sound, every word is as true as Gospel." + +"Ahem!" coughed Small. + +"Well, at this moment--this terrible moment--what should I hear but a +tap against the wainscot. Holy Virgin! how it startled me. My heart +leapt to my mouth in an instant, and then went thump, thump, against my +ribs. But I said nothing, though you may be sure I kept my ears wide +open--and then presently I heard the tap repeated somewhat louder, and +shortly afterwards a third--I should still have said nothing, but Sir +Piers heard the knock, and raised himself at the summons, as if it had +been the last trumpet. 'Come in,' cried he, in a dying voice; and Heaven +forgive me if I confess that I expected a certain person, whose company +one would rather dispense with upon such an occasion, to step in. +However, though it wasn't the ould gentleman, it was somebody near akin +to him; for a door I had never seen, and never even dreamed of, opened +in the wall, and in stepped Peter Bradley--ay, you may well stare, +gentlemen; but it was Peter, looking as stiff as a crowbar, and as blue +as a mattock. Well, he walked straight up to the bed of the dying man, +and bent his great, diabolical gray eyes upon him, laughing all the +while--yes, laughing--you know the cursed grin he has. To proceed. 'You +have called me,' said he to Sir Piers; 'I am here. What would you with +me?'--'We are not alone,' groaned the dying man. 'Leave us, Mr. +Tyrconnel--leave me for five minutes--only five, mark me.'--'I'll go,' +thinks I, 'but I shall never see you again alive.' And true enough it +was--I never did see him again with breath in his body. Without more +ado, I left him, and I had scarcely reached the corridor when I heard +the door bolted behind me. I then stopped to listen: and I'm sure you'll +not blame me when I say I clapped my eye to the keyhole; for I suspected +something wrong. But, Heaven save us! that crafty gravedigger had taken +his precautions too well. I could neither see nor hear anything, except +after a few minutes, a wild unearthly screech. And then the door was +thrown open, and I, not expecting it, was precipitated head foremost +into the room, to the great damage of my nose. When I got up, Peter had +vanished, I suppose, as he came; and there was poor Sir Piers leaning +back upon the pillow with his hands stretched out as if in supplication, +his eyes unclosed and staring, and his limbs stark and stiff!" + +A profound silence succeeded this narrative. Mr. Coates would not +venture upon a remark. Dr. Small seemed, for some minutes, lost in +painful reflection; at length he spoke: "You have described a shocking +scene, Mr. Tyrconnel, and in a manner that convinces me of its fidelity. +But I trust you will excuse me, as a friend of the late Sir Piers, in +requesting you to maintain silence in future on the subject. Its +repetition can be productive of no good, and may do infinite harm by +giving currency to unpleasant reports, and harrowing the feelings of the +survivors. Every one acquainted with Sir Piers's history must be aware, +as I dare say you are already, of an occurrence which cast a shade over +his early life, blighted his character, and endangered his personal +safety. It was a dreadful accusation. But I believe, nay, I am sure, it +was unfounded. Dark suspicions attach to a Romish priest of the name of +Checkley. He, I believe, is beyond the reach of human justice. Erring +Sir Piers was, undoubtedly. But I trust he was more weak than sinful. I +have reason to think he was the tool of others, especially of the wretch +I have named. And it is easy to perceive how that incomprehensible +lunatic, Peter Bradley, has obtained an ascendancy over him. His +daughter, you are aware, was Sir Piers's mistress. Our friend is now +gone, and with him let us bury his offences, and the remembrance of +them. That his soul was heavily laden, would appear from your account of +his last moments; yet I fervently trust that his repentance was sincere, +in which case there is hope of forgiveness for him. 'At what time soever +a sinner shall repent him of his sins, from the bottom of his heart, I +will blot out all his wickedness out of my remembrance, saith the Lord.' +Heaven's mercy is greater than man's sins. And there is hope of +salvation even for Sir Piers." + +"I trust so, indeed," said Titus, with emotion; "and as to repeating a +syllable of what I have just said, devil a word more will I utter on the +subject. My lips shall be shut and sealed, as close as one of Mr. +Coates's bonds, for ever and a day: but I thought it just right to make +you acquainted with the circumstances. And now, having dismissed the bad +for ever, I am ready to speak of Sir Piers's good qualities, and not few +they were. What was there becoming a gentleman that he couldn't do, I'd +like to know? Couldn't he hunt as well as ever a one in the county? and +hadn't he as good a pack of hounds? Couldn't he shoot as well, and fish +as well, and drink as well, or better?--only he couldn't carry his wine, +which was his misfortune, not his fault. And wasn't he always ready to +ask a friend to dinner with him? and didn't he give him a good dinner +when he came, barring the cross-cups afterwards? And hadn't he +everything agreeable about him, except his wife? which was a great +drawback. And with all his peculiarities and humors, wasn't he as +kind-hearted a man as needs be? and an Irishman at the core? And so, if +he wern't dead, I'd say long life to him! But as he is, here's peace to +his memory!" + +At this juncture, a knocking was heard at the door, which some one +without had vainly tried to open. Titus rose to unclose it, ushering in +an individual known at the hall as Jack Palmer. + + + + +_CHAPTER IX_ + +_AN ENGLISH ADVENTURER_ + + _Mrs. Peachem._ Sure the captain's the finest gentleman on the road. + + _Beggar's Opera._ + + +Jack Palmer was a good-humored, good-looking man, with immense bushy, +red whiskers, a freckled, florid complexion, and sandy hair, rather +inclined to scantiness towards the scalp of the head, which garnished +the nape of his neck with a ruff of crisp little curls, like the ring on +a monk's shaven crown. Notwithstanding this tendency to baldness, Jack +could not be more than thirty, though his looks were some five years in +advance. His face was one of those inexplicable countenances, which +appear to be proper to a peculiar class of men--a regular Newmarket +physiognomy--compounded chiefly of cunning and assurance; not low +cunning, nor vulgar assurance, but crafty sporting subtlety, careless as +to results, indifferent to obstacles, ever on the alert for the main +chance, game and turf all over, eager, yet easy, keen, yet quiet. He was +somewhat showily dressed, in such wise that he looked half like a fine +gentleman of that day, half like a jockey of our own. His nether man +appeared in well-fitting, well-worn buckskins, and boots with tops, not +unconscious of the saddle; while the airy extravagance of his +broad-skirted, sky-blue riding coat, the richness of his vest--the +pockets of which were beautifully exuberant, according to the mode of +1737--the smart luxuriance of his cravat, and a certain curious taste in +the size and style of his buttons, proclaimed that, in his own esteem at +least, his person did not appear altogether unworthy of decoration; nor, +in justice to Jack, can we allow that he was in error. He was a model +of a man for five feet ten; square, compact, capitally built in every +particular, excepting that his legs were slightly imbowed, which defect +probably arose from his being almost constantly on horseback; a sort of +exercise in which Jack greatly delighted, and was accounted a superb +rider. It was, indeed, his daring horsemanship, upon one particular +occasion, when he had outstripped a whole field, that had procured him +the honor of an invitation to Rookwood. Who he was, or whence he came, +was a question not easily answered--Jack, himself, evading all solution +to the inquiry. Sir Piers never troubled his head about the matter: he +was a "deuced good fellow--rode well, and stood on no sort of ceremony;" +that was enough for him. Nobody else knew anything about him, save that +he was a capital judge of horseflesh, kept a famous black mare, and +attended every hunt in the West Riding--that he could sing a good song, +was a choice companion, and could drink three bottles without feeling +the worse for them. + +Sensible of the indecorum that might attach to his appearance, Dr. Small +had hastily laid down his pipe, and arranged his wig. But when he saw +who was the intruder, with a grunt of defiance he resumed his +occupation, without returning the bow of the latter, or bestowing +further notice upon him. Nothing discomposed at the churchman's +displeasure, Jack greeted Titus cordially, and carelessly saluting Mr. +Coates, threw himself into a chair. He next filled a tumbler of claret, +and drained it at a draught. + +"Have you ridden far, Jack?" asked Titus, noticing the dusty state of +Palmer's azure attire. + +"Some dozen miles," replied Palmer; "and that, on such a sultry +afternoon as the present, makes one feel thirstyish. I'm as dry as a +sandbed. Famous wine this--beautiful tipple--better than all your red +fustian. Ah, how poor Sir Piers used to like it! Well, that's all +over--a glass like this might do him good in his present quarters! I'm +afraid I'm intruding. But the fact is, I wanted a little information +about the order of the procession, and missing you below, came hither in +search of you. You're to be chief mourner, I suppose, Titus--_rehearsing_ +your part, eh?" + +"Come, come, Jack, no joking," replied Titus; "the subject's too +serious. I am to be chief mourner--and I expect you to be a mourner--and +everybody else to be mourners. We must all mourn at the proper time. +There'll be a power of people at the church." + +"There _are_ a power of people here already," returned Jack, "if they +all attend." + +"And they all _will_ attend, or what is the eating and drinking to go +for? I sha'n't leave a soul in the house." + +"Excepting one," said Jack, archly. "Lady Rookwood won't attend, I +think." + +"Ay, excepting her ladyship and her ladyship's abigail. All the rest go +with me, and form part of the procession. You go too." + +"Of course. At what time do you start?" + +"Twelve precisely. As the clock strikes, we set out--all in a line, and +a long line we'll make. I'm waiting for that ould coffin-faced rascal, +Peter Bradley, to arrange the order." + +"How long will it all occupy, think you?" asked Jack, carelessly. + +"That I can't say," returned Titus; "possibly an hour, more or less. But +we shall start to the minute--that is, if we can get all together, so +don't be out of the way. And hark ye, Jack, you must contrive to change +your toggery. That sky-blue coat won't do. It's not the thing at all, at +all." + +"Never fear that," replied Palmer. "But who were those in the +carriages?" + +"Is it the last carriage you mean? Squire Forester and his sons. They're +dining with the other gentlefolk, in the great room up-stairs, to be out +of the way. Oh, we'll have a grand _berrin'_. And, by St. Patrick! I +must be looking after it." + +"Stay a minute," said Jack; "let's have a cool bottle first. They are +all taking care of themselves below, and Peter Bradley has not made his +appearance, so you need be in no hurry. I'll go with you presently. +Shall I ring for the claret?" + +"By all means," replied Titus. + +Jack accordingly arose; and a butler answering the summons, a +long-necked bottle was soon placed before them. + +"You heard of the affray last night, I presume?" said Jack, renewing the +conversation. + +"With the poachers? To be sure I did. Wasn't I called in to examine Hugh +Badger's wounds the first thing this morning; and a deep cut there was, +just over the eye, besides other bruises." + +"Is the wound dangerous?" inquired Palmer. + +"Not exactly mortal, if you mean that," replied the Irishman; +"dangerous, certainly." + +"Humph!" exclaimed Jack; "they'd a pretty hardish bout of it, I +understand. Anything been heard of the body?" + +"What body?" inquired Small, who was half-dozing. + +"The body of the drowned poacher," replied Jack; "they were off to +search for it this morning." + +"Found it--not they!" exclaimed Titus. "Ha, ha!--I can't help laughing, +for the life and _sowl_ of me; a capital trick he played +'em,--capital--ha, ha! What do you think the fellow did? Ha, ha!--after +leading 'em the devil's dance, all around the park, killing a hound as +savage as a wolf, and breaking Hugh Badger's head, which is as hard and +thick as a butcher's block, what does the fellow do but dive into a +pool, with a great rock hanging over it, and make his way to the other +side, through a subterranean cavern, which nobody knew anything about, +till they came to drag it, thinking him snugly drowned all the +while--ha, ha!" + +"Ha, ha, ha!" chorused Jack; "bravo! he's a lad of the right sort--ha, +ha!" + +"He! who?" inquired the attorney. + +"Why, the poacher, to be sure," replied Jack; "who else were we talking +about?" + +"Beg pardon," returned Coates; "I thought you might have heard some +intelligence. We've got an eye upon him. We know who it was." + +"Indeed!" exclaimed Jack; "and who was it?" + +"A fellow known by the name of Luke Bradley." + +"Zounds!" cried Titus, "you don't say it was he? Murder in Irish! that +bates everything; why, he was Sir Piers's----" + +"Natural son," replied the attorney; "he has not been heard of for some +time--shockingly incorrigible rascal--impossible to do anything with +him." + +"You don't say so?" observed Jack. "I've heard Sir Piers speak of the +lad; and, by his account, he's as fine a fellow as ever crossed tit's +back; only a little wildish and unreasonable, as the best of us may be; +wants breaking, that's all. Your skittish colt makes the best horse, and +so would he. To speak the truth, I'm glad he escaped." + +"So am I," rejoined Titus; "for, in the first place, I've a foolish +partiality for poachers, and am sorry when any of 'em come to hurt; and, +in the second, I'd be mighty displeased if any ill had happened to one +of Sir Piers's flesh and blood, as this young chap appears to be." + +"Appears to be!" repeated Palmer; "there's no _appearing_ in the case, I +take it. This Bradley's an undoubted offshoot of the old squire. His +mother was a servant-maid at the hall, I rather think. You sir," +continued he, addressing Coates, "perhaps, can inform us of the real +facts of the case." + +"She was something better than a servant," replied the attorney, with a +slight cough and a knowing wink. "I remember her quite well, though I +was but a boy then; a lovely creature, and so taking, I don't wonder +that Sir Piers was smitten with her. He was mad after the women in those +days, and pretty Sue Bradley above all others. She lived with him quite +like his lady." + +"So I've heard," returned Jack; "and she remained with him till her +death. Let me see, wasn't there something rather odd in the way in which +she died, rather suddenish and unexpected,--a noise made about it at the +time, eh?" + +"Not that I ever heard," replied Coates, shaking his head, and appearing +to be afflicted with an instantaneous ignorance; while Titus affected +not to hear the remark, but occupied himself with his wine-glass. Small +snored audibly. "I was too young, then, to pay any attention to idle +rumors," continued Coates. "It's a long time ago. May I ask the reason +of your inquiry?" + +"Nothing further than simple curiosity," replied Jack, enjoying the +consternation of his companions. "It is, as you say, a long while since. +But it's singular how that sort of thing is remembered. One would think +people had something else to do than talk of one's private affairs for +ever. For my part, I despise such tattle. But there _are_ persons in the +neighborhood who still say it was an awkward business. Amongst others, +I've heard that this very Luke Bradley talks in pretty plain terms about +it." + +"Does he, indeed?" said Coates. "So much the worse for him. Let me once +lay hands upon him, and I'll put a gag in his mouth that shall spoil his +talking in the future." + +"That's precisely the point I desire to arrive at," replied Jack; "and I +advise you by all means to accomplish that, for the sake of the family. +Nobody likes his friends to be talked about. So I'd settle the matter +amicably, were I you. Just let the fellow go his way; he won't return +here again in a hurry, I'll be bound. As to clapping him in quod, he +might prattle--turn stag." + +"Turn stag!" replied Coates, "what the deuce is that? In my opinion, he +has 'turned stag' already. At all events, he'll pay _deer_ for his +night's sport, you may depend upon it. What signifies it what _he_ says? +Let me lay hands upon him, that's all." + +"Well, well," said Jack, "no offence. I only meant to offer a +suggestion. I thought the family, young Sir Ranulph, I mean, mightn't +like the story to be revived. As to Lady Rookwood, she don't, I suppose, +care much about idle reports. Indeed, if I've been rightly informed, she +bears this youngster no particular good-will to begin with, and has +tried hard to get him out of the country. But, as you say, what _does_ +it signify what he says? he can _only_ talk. Sir Piers is dead and +gone." + +"Humph!" muttered Coates, peevishly. + +"But it does seem a little hard, that a lad should swing for killing a +bit of venison in his own father's park." + +"Which he'd a _nat'ral_ right to do," cried Titus. + +"He had no natural right to bruise, violently assault, and endanger the +life of his father's, or anybody else's gamekeeper," retorted Coates. "I +tell you, sir, he's committed a capital offence, and if he's taken----" + +"No chance of that, I hope," interrupted Jack. + +"That's a wish I can't help wishing myself," said Titus: "on my +conscience, these poachers are fine boys, when all's said and done." + +"The finest of all boys," exclaimed Jack, with a kindred enthusiasm, +"are those birds of the night, and minions of the moon, whom we call, +most unjustly, poachers. They are, after all, only _professional +sportsmen_, making a business of what we make a pleasure; a nightly +pursuit of what is to us a daily relaxation; there's the main +distinction. As to the rest, it's all in idea; they merely thin an +overstocked park, as _you_ would reduce a plethoric patient, doctor; or +as _you_ would work a moneyed client, if you got him into Chancery, +Mister Attorney. And then how much more scientifically and +systematically they set to work than we amateurs do! how noiselessly +they bag a hare, smoke a pheasant, or knock a buck down with an air-gun! +how independent are they of any license, except that of a good eye, and +a swift pair of legs! how unnecessary is it for them to ask permission +to shoot over Mr. So-and-so's grounds, or my Lord That's preserves! +they are free of every cover, and indifferent to any alteration in the +game laws. I've some thoughts, when everything else fails, of taking to +poaching myself. In my opinion, a poacher's a highly respectable +character. What say you, Mr. Coates?" turning very gravely to that +gentleman. + +"Such a question, sir," replied Coates, bridling up, "scarcely deserves +a serious answer. I make no doubt you will next maintain that a +highwayman is a gentleman." + +"Most undoubtedly," replied Palmer, in the same grave tone, which might +have passed for banter, had Jack ever bantered. "I'll maintain and prove +it. I don't see how he can be otherwise. It is as necessary for a man to +be a gentleman before he can turn highwayman, as it is for a doctor to +have his diploma, or an attorney his certificate. Some of the finest +gentlemen of their day, as Captain Lovelace, Hind, Hannum, and Dudley, +were eminent on the road, and they set the fashion. Ever since their day +a real highwayman would consider himself disgraced, if he did not +conduct himself in every way like a gentleman. Of course, there are +pretenders in this line, as in everything else. But these are only +exceptions, and prove the rule. What are the distinguishing +characteristics of a fine gentleman?--perfect knowledge of the +world--perfect independence of character--notoriety--command of +cash--and inordinate success with the women. You grant all these +premises? First, then, it is part of a highwayman's business to be +thoroughly acquainted with the world. He is the easiest and pleasantest +fellow going. There is Tom King, for example: he is the handsomest man +about town, and the best-bred fellow on the road. Then whose +inclinations are so uncontrolled as the highwayman's, so long as the +mopuses last? who produces so great an effect by so few words?--'STAND +AND DELIVER!' is sure to arrest attention. Every one is captivated by an +address so _taking_. As to money, he wins a purse of a hundred guineas +as easily as you would the same sum from the faro table. And wherein +lies the difference? only in the name of the game. Who so little need +of a banker as he? all he has to apprehend is a check--all he has to +draw is a trigger. As to the women, they dote upon him: not even your +red-coat is so successful. Look at a highwayman mounted on his flying +steed, with his pistols in his holsters, and his mask upon his face. +What can be a more gallant sight? The clatter of his horse's heels is +like music to his ear--he is in full quest--he shouts to the fugitive +horseman to stay--the other flies all the faster--what chase can be half +so exciting as that? Suppose he overtakes his prey, which ten to one he +will, how readily his summons to deliver is obeyed! how satisfactory is +the appropriation of a lusty purse or corpulent pocket-book!--getting +the brush is nothing to it. How tranquilly he departs, takes off his hat +to his accommodating acquaintance, wishes him a pleasant journey, and +disappears across the heath! England, sir, has reason to be proud of her +highwaymen. They are peculiar to her clime, and are as much before the +brigand of Italy, the contrabandist of Spain, or the cut-purse of +France--as her sailors are before all the rest of the world. The day +will never come, I hope, when we shall degenerate into the footpad, and +lose our _Night Errantry_. Even the French borrow from us--they have +only one highwayman of eminence, and he learnt and practised his art in +England." + +"And who was he, may I ask?" said Coates. + +"Claude Du-Val," replied Jack; "and though a Frenchman, he was a deuced +fine fellow in his day--quite a tip-top macaroni--he could skip and +twirl like a figurant, warble like an opera-singer, and play the +flageolet better than any man of his day--he always carried a lute in +his pocket, along with his snappers. And then his dress--it was quite +beautiful to see how smartly he was rigg'd out, all velvet and lace; and +even with his vizard on his face, the ladies used to cry out to see him. +Then he took a purse with the air and grace of a receiver-general. All +the women adored him--and that, bless their pretty faces! was the best +proof of his gentility. I wish he'd not been a Mounseer. The women +never mistake. _They_ can always discover the true gentlemen, and they +were all, of every degree, from the countess to the kitchen-maid, over +head and ears in love with him." + +"But he was taken, I suppose?" asked Coates. + +"Ay," responded Jack, "the women were his undoing, as they've been many +a brave fellow's before, and will be again." Touched by which +reflection, Jack became for once in his life sentimental, and sighed. +"Poor Du-Val! he was seized at the Hole-in-the-Wall in Chandos-street by +the bailiff of Westminster, when dead drunk, his liquor having been +drugged by his dells--and was shortly afterwards hanged at Tyburn." + +"It was thousand pities," said Mr. Coates, with a sneer, "that so fine a +gentleman should come to so ignominious an end!" + +"Quite the contrary," returned Jack. "As his biographer, Doctor Pope, +properly remarks, 'Who is there worthy of the name of man, that would +not prefer such a death before a mean, solitary, inglorious life?' +By-the-by, Titus, as we're upon the subject, if you like I'll sing you a +song about highwaymen." + +"I should like it of all things," replied Titus, who entertained a very +favorable opinion of Jack's vocal powers, and was by no means an +indifferent performer; "only let it be in a minor key." + +Jack required no further encouragement, but disregarding the hints and +looks of Coates, sang with much unction the following ballad to a good +old tune, then very popular--the merit of which "nobody can deny." + + A CHAPTER OF HIGHWAYMEN + + Of every rascal of every kind, + The most notorious to my mind, + Was the Cavalier Captain, gay JEMMY HIND![7] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + But the pleasantest coxcomb among them all + For lute, coranto, and madrigal, + Was the galliard Frenchman, CLAUDE DU-VAL![8] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + And Tobygloak never a coach could rob, + Could lighten a pocket, or empty a fob, + With a neater hand than OLD MOB, OLD MOB![9] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + Nor did housebreaker ever deal harder knocks + On the stubborn lid of a good strong box, + Than that prince of good fellows, TOM COX, TOM COX![10] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + A blither fellow on broad highway, + Did never with oath bid traveller stay, + Than devil-may-care WILL HOLLOWAY![11] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + And in roguery naught could exceed the tricks + Of GETTINGS and GREY, and the five or six + Who trod in the steps of bold NEDDY WICKS![12] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + Nor could any so handily break a lock + As SHEPPARD, who stood on the Newgate dock, + And nicknamed the jailers around him "_his flock_!"[13] + _Which nobody can deny._ + + Nor did highwaymen ever before possess + For ease, for security, danger, distress, + Such a mare as DICK TURPIN'S Black Bess! Black Bess! + _Which nobody can deny._ + +"A capital song, by the powers!" cried Titus, as Jack's ditty came to a +close. "But your English robbers are nothing at all, compared with our +Tories[14] and Rapparees--nothing at all. They were the _raal_ +gentlemen--they were the boys to cut a throat _aisily_." + +"Pshaw!" exclaimed Jack, in disgust, "the gentlemen I speak of never +maltreated any one, except in self-defence." + +"Maybe not," replied Titus; "I'll not dispute the point--but these +Rapparees were true brothers of the blade, and gentlemen every inch. +I'll just sing you a song I made about them myself. But meanwhile don't +let's forget the bottle--talking's dry work. My service to you, doctor!" +added he, winking at the somnolent Small. And tossing off his glass, +Titus delivered himself with much joviality of the following ballad; the +words of which he adapted to the tune of the _Groves of the Pool_: + + THE RAPPAREES + + Let the Englishman boast of his Turpins and Sheppards, as cocks of + the walk, + His Mulsacks, and Cheneys, and Swiftnecks[15]--it's all botheration + and talk; + Compared with the robbers of Ireland, they don't come within half a + mile, + There never were yet any rascals like those of my own native isle! + + First and foremost comes REDMOND O'HANLON, allowed the first thief + of the world,[16] + That o'er the broad province of Ulster the Rapparee banner unfurled; + Och! he was an elegant fellow, as ever you saw in your life, + At fingering the blunderbuss trigger, or handling the throat-cutting + knife. + + And then such a dare-devil squadron as that which composed REDMOND'S + _tail_! + Meel, Mactigh, Jack Reilly, Shan Bernagh, Phil Galloge, and Arthur + O'Neal; + _Shure_ never were any boys like 'em for rows, _agitations_, and + sprees, + Not a _rap_ did they leave in the country, and hence they were + called _Rap_parees.[17] + + Next comes POWER, the great Tory[18] of Munster, a gentleman born + every inch, + And strong JACK MACPHERSON of Leinster, a horse-shoe who broke at a + pinch; + The last was a fellow so _lively_, not death e'en his courage could + damp, + For as he was led to the gallows, he played his own "march to the + camp."[19] + + PADDY FLEMING, DICK BALF, and MULHONI, I think are the next on my list, + All adepts in the beautiful science of giving a pocket a twist; + JEMMY CARRICK must follow his leaders, _ould_ PURNEY who put in a huff, + By dancing a hornpipe at Tyburn, and bothering the hangman for snuff. + + There's PAUL LIDDY, the curly-pate Tory, whose noddle was stuck on a + spike, + And BILLY DELANEY, the "_Songster_,"[20] we never shall meet with + his like; + For his neck by a witch was anointed, and warranted safe by her charm, + No hemp that was ever yet twisted his wonderful throttle could harm. + + And lastly, there's CAHIR NA CAPPUL, the handiest rogue of them all, + Who only need whisper a word, and your horse will trot out of his + stall; + Your tit is not safe in your stable, though you or your groom should + be near, + And devil a bit in the paddock, if CAHIR gets _hould_ of his ear. + + Then success to the Tories of Ireland, the generous, the gallant, + the gay! + With them the best _Rumpads_[21] of England are not to be named the + same day! + And were further proof wanting to show what precedence we take with + our _prigs_, + Recollect that _our_ robbers are Tories, while those of _your_ + country are Whigs. + +"Bravissimo!" cried Jack, drumming upon the table. + +"Well," said Coates, "we've had enough about the Irish highwaymen, in +all conscience. But there's a rascal on our side of the Channel, whom +you have only incidentally mentioned, and who makes more noise than them +all put together." + +"Who's that?" asked Jack, with some curiosity. + +"Dick Turpin," replied the attorney: "he seems to me quite as worthy of +mention as any of the Hinds, the Du-Vals, or the O'Hanlons, you have +either of you enumerated." + +"I did not think of him," replied Palmer, smiling; "though, if I had, he +scarcely deserves to be ranked with those illustrious heroes." + +"Gads bobs!" cried Titus; "they tell me Turpin keeps the best nag in the +United Kingdom, and can ride faster and further in a day than any other +man in a week." + +"So I've heard," said Palmer, with a glance of satisfaction. "I should +like to try a run with him. I warrant me, I'd not be far behind." + +"I should like to get a peep at him," quoth Titus. + +"So should I," added Coates. "Vastly!" + +"You may both of you be gratified, gentlemen," said Palmer. "Talking of +Dick Turpin, they say, is like speaking of the devil, he's at your elbow +ere the word's well out of your mouth. He may be within hearing at this +moment, for anything we know to the contrary." + +"Body o' me!" ejaculated Coates, "you don't say so? Turpin in Yorkshire! +I thought he confined his exploits to the neighborhood of the +metropolis, and made Epping Forest his headquarters." + +"So he did," replied Jack, "but the cave is all up now. The whole of the +great North Road, from Tottenham Cross to York gates, comes within +Dick's present range; and Saint Nicholas only knows in which part of it +he is most likely to be found. He shifts his quarters as often and as +readily as a Tartar; and he who looks for him may chance to catch a +Tartar--ha!--ha!" + +"It's a disgrace to the country that such a rascal should remain +unhanged," returned Coates, peevishly. "Government ought to look to it. +Is the whole kingdom to be kept in a state of agitation by a single +highwayman?--Sir Robert Walpole should take the affair into his own +hands." + +"Fudge!" exclaimed Jack, emptying his glass. + +"I have already addressed a letter to the editor of the _Common Sense_ +on the subject," said Coates, "in which I have spoken my mind pretty +plainly: and I repeat, it is perfectly disgraceful that such a rascal +should be suffered to remain at large." + +"You don't happen to have that letter by you, I suppose," said Jack, "or +I should beg the favor to hear it?--I am not acquainted with the +newspaper to which you allude;--I read _Fog's Journal_." + +"So I thought," replied Coates, with a sneer; "that's the reason you are +so easily mystified. But luckily I have the paper in my pocket; and you +are quite welcome to my opinions. Here it is," added he, drawing forth a +newspaper. "I shall waive my preliminary remarks, and come to the point +at once." + +"By all means," said Jack. + +"'I thank God,'" began Coates, in an authoritative tone, "'that I was +born in a country that hath formerly emulated the Romans in their public +spirit; as is evident from their conquests abroad, and their struggles +for liberty at home.'" + +"What has all this got to do with Turpin?" interposed Jack. + +"You will hear," replied the attorney--"no interruptions if you please. +'But this noble principle,'" continued he, with great emphasis, "'though +not utterly lost, I cannot think at present so active as it ought to be +in a nation so jealous of her liberty.'" + +"Good!" exclaimed Jack. "There is more than '_common sense_' in that +observation, Mr. Coates." + +"'My suspicion,'" proceeded Coates, "'is founded on a late instance. I +mean the flagrant, undisturbed success of the notorious TURPIN, who hath +robb'd in a manner scarce ever known before for several years, and is +grown so insolent and impudent as to threaten particular persons, and +become openly dangerous to the lives as well as fortunes of the people +of England.'" + +"Better and better," shouted Jack, laughing immoderately. "Pray go on, +sir." + +"'That a fellow,'" continued Coates, "'who is known to be a thief by the +whole kingdom, shall for so long a time continue to rob us, and not only +rob us, but make a jest of us----'" + +"Ha--ha--ha--capital! Excuse me, sir," roared Jack, laughing till the +tears ran down his cheeks--"pray, pray, go on." + +"I see nothing to laugh at," replied Coates, somewhat offended; +"however, I will conclude my letter, since I have begun it--'not only +rob us, but make a jest of us, shall defy the laws, and laugh at +justice, argues a want of public spirit, which should make every +particular member of the community sensible of the public calamity, and +ambitious of the honor of extirpating such a notorious highwayman from +society, since he owes his long successes to no other cause than his +immoderate impudence, and the sloth and pusillanimity of those who ought +to bring him to justice.' I will not deny," continued Coates, "that, +professing myself, as I do, to be a staunch new Whig, I had not some +covert political object in penning this epistle.[22] Nevertheless, +setting aside my principles----" + +"Right," observed Jack; "you Whigs, new or old, always set aside your +principles." + +"Setting aside any political feeling I may entertain," continued Coates, +disregarding the interruption, "I repeat, I am ambitious of extirpating +this modern Cacus--this Autolycus of the eighteenth century." + +"And what course do you mean to pursue?" asked Jack, "for I suppose you +do not expect to catch this '_ought-to-lick-us_,' as you call him, by a +line in the newspapers." + +"I am in the habit of keeping my own counsel, sir," replied Coates, +pettishly; "and to be plain with you, I hope to finger all the reward +myself." + +"Oons, is there a reward offered for Turpin's apprehension?" asked +Titus. + +"No less than two hundred pounds," answered Coates, "and that's no +trifle, as you will both admit. Have you not seen the king's +proclamation, Mr. Palmer?" + +"Not I," replied Jack, with affected indifference. + +"Nor I," added Titus, with some appearance of curiosity; "do you happen +to have _that_ by you too?" + +"I always carry it about with me," replied Coates, "that I may refer to +it in case of emergency. My father, Christopher, or Kit Coates, as he +was familiarly called, was a celebrated thief-taker. He apprehended +Spicket, and Child, and half a dozen others, and always kept their +descriptions in his pocket. I endeavor to tread in my worthy father's +footsteps. I hope to signalize myself by capturing a highwayman. +By-the-by," added he, surveying Jack more narrowly, "it occurs to me +that Turpin must be rather like you, Mr. Palmer?" + +"Like me," said Jack, regarding Coates askance; "like me--how am I to +understand you, sir, eh?" + +"No offence; none whatever, sir. Ah! stay, you won't object to my +comparing the description. That _can_ do no harm. Nobody would take you +for a highwayman--nobody whatever--ha! ha! Singular resemblance--he--he. +These things _do_ happen sometimes: not very often, though. But here is +Turpin's description in the _Gazette_, _June 28th_, A.D. 1737:--'_It +having been represented to the King that Richard Turpin did, on +Wednesday, the 4th of May last, rob on his Majesty's highway Vavasour +Mowbray, Esq., Major of the 2d troop of Horse Grenadiers_'--that Major +Mowbray, by-the-by, is a nephew of the late Sir Piers, and cousin of the +present baronet--'_and commit other notorious felonies and robberies +near London, his Majesty is pleased to promise his most gracious pardon +to any of his accomplices, and a reward of two hundred pounds to any +person or persons who shall discover him, so as he may be apprehended +and convicted_.'" + +"Odsbodikins!" exclaimed Titus, "a noble reward! I should like to lay +hands upon Turpin," added he, slapping Palmer's shoulder: "I wish he +were in your place at this moment, Jack." + +"Thank you!" replied Palmer, shifting his chair. + +"'_Turpin_,'" continued Coates, "'_was born at Thacksted, in Essex; is +about thirty_'--you, sir, I believe, are about thirty?" added he, +addressing Palmer. + +"Thereabouts," said Jack, bluffly. "But what has my age to do with that +of Turpin?" + +"Nothing--nothing at all," answered Coates; "suffer me, however, to +proceed:--'_Is by trade a butcher_,'--you, sir, I believe, never had any +dealings in that line?" + +"I have some notion how to dispose of a troublesome calf," returned +Jack. "But Turpin, though described as a butcher, is, I understand, a +lineal descendant of a great French archbishop of the same name." + +"Who wrote the chronicles of that royal robber Charlemagne; I know him," +replied Coates--"a terrible liar!--The modern Turpin '_is about five +feet nine inches high_'--exactly your height, sir--exactly!" + +"I am five feet ten," answered Jack, standing bolt upright. + +"You have an inch, then, in your favor," returned the unperturbed +attorney, deliberately proceeding with his examination--"'_he has a +brown complexion, marked with the smallpox_.'" + +"My complexion is florid--my face without a seam," quoth Jack. + +"Those whiskers would conceal anything," replied Coates, with a grin. +"Nobody wears whiskers nowadays, except a highwayman." + +"Sir!" said Jack, sternly. "You are personal." + +"I don't mean to be so," replied Coates; "but you must allow the +description tallies with your own in a remarkable manner. Hear me out, +however--'_his cheek bones are broad--his face is thinner towards the +bottom--his visage short--pretty upright--and broad about the +shoulders_.' Now I appeal to Mr. Tyrconnel if all this does not sound +like a portrait of yourself." + +"Don't appeal to me," said Titus, hastily, "upon such a delicate point. +I can't say that I approve of a gentleman being likened to a highwayman. +But if ever there was a highwayman I'd wish to resemble, it's either +Redmond O'Hanlon or Richard Turpin; and may the devil burn me if I know +which of the two is the greater rascal!" + +"Well, Mr. Palmer," said Coates, "I repeat, I mean no offence. +Likenesses are unaccountable. I am said to be like my Lord North; +whether I am or not, the Lord knows. But if ever I meet with Turpin I +shall bear you in mind--he--he! Ah! if ever I _should_ have the good +luck to stumble upon him, I've a plan for his capture which couldn't +fail. Only let me get a glimpse of him, that's all. You shall see how +I'll dispose of him." + +"Well, sir, we _shall_ see," observed Palmer. "And for your own sake, I +wish you may never be nearer to him than you are at this moment. With +his friends, they say Dick Turpin can be as gentle as a lamb; with his +foes, especially with a limb of the law like yourself, he's been found +but an ugly customer. I once saw him at Newmarket, where he was collared +by two constable culls, one on each side. Shaking off one, and dealing +the other a blow in the face with his heavy-handled whip, he stuck spurs +into his mare, and though the whole field gave chase, he distanced them +all, easily." + +"And how came you not to try your pace with him, if you were there, as +you boasted a short time ago?" asked Coates. + +"So I did, and stuck closer to him than any one else. We were neck and +neck. I was the only person who could have delivered him to the hands of +justice, if I'd felt inclined." + +"Zounds!" cried Coates; "If I had a similar opportunity, it should be +neck or nothing. Either he or I should reach the scragging-post first. +I'd take him, dead or alive." + +"_You_ take Turpin?" cried Jack, with a sneer. + +"I'd engage to do it," replied Coates. "I'll bet you a hundred guineas I +take him, if I ever have the same chance." + +"Done!" exclaimed Jack, rapping the table at the same time, so that the +glasses danced upon it. + +"That's right," cried Titus. "I'll go you halves." + +"What's the matter--what's the matter?" exclaimed Small, awakened from +his doze. + +"Only a trifling bet about a highwayman," replied Titus. + +"A highwayman!" echoed Small. "Eh! what? there are none in the house, I +hope." + +"I hope not," answered Coates. "But this gentleman has taken up the +defence of the notorious Dick Turpin in so singular a manner, that----" + +"_Quod factu f[oe]dum est, idem est et Dictu Turpe_," returned Small. +"The less said about that rascal the better." + +"So I think," replied Jack. "The fact is as you say, sir--were Dick +here, he would, I am sure, take the _freedom to hide 'em_." + +Further discourse was cut short by the sudden opening of the door, +followed by the abrupt entrance of a tall, slender young man, who +hastily advanced towards the table, around which the company were +seated. His appearance excited the utmost astonishment in the whole +group: curiosity was exhibited in every countenance--the magnum remained +poised midway in the hand of Palmer--Dr. Small scorched his thumb in the +bowl of his pipe; and Mr. Coates was almost choked, by swallowing an +inordinate whiff of vapor. + +"Young Sir Ranulph!" ejaculated he, as soon as the syncope would permit +him. + +"Sir Ranulph here?" echoed Palmer, rising. + +"Angels and ministers!" exclaimed Small. + +"Odsbodikins!" cried Titus, with a theatrical start; "this is more than +I expected." + +"Gentlemen," said Ranulph, "do not let my unexpected arrival here +discompose you. Dr. Small, you will excuse the manner of my greeting; +and you, Mr. Coates. One of the present party, I believe, was my +father's medical attendant, Dr. Tyrconnel." + +"I had that honor," replied the Irishman, bowing profoundly--"I am Dr. +Tyrconnel, Sir Ranulph, at your service." + +"When, and at what hour, did my father breathe his last, sir?" inquired +Ranulph. + +"Poor Sir Piers," answered Titus, again bowing, "departed this life on +Thursday last." + +"The hour?--the precise minute?" asked Ranulph, eagerly. + +"Troth, Sir Ranulph, as nearly as I can recollect, it might be a few +minutes before midnight." + +"The very hour!" exclaimed Ranulph, striding towards the window. His +steps were arrested as his eye fell upon the attire of his father, +which, as we have before noticed, hung at that end of the room. A slight +shudder passed over his frame. There was a momentary pause, during which +Ranulph continued gazing intently at the apparel. "The very dress, too!" +muttered he; then turning to the assembly, who were watching his +movements with surprise; "Doctor," said he, addressing Small, "I have +something for your private ear. Gentlemen, will you spare us the room +for a few minutes?" + +"On my conscience," said Tyrconnel to Jack Palmer, as they quitted the +sanctum, "a mighty fine boy is this young Sir Ranulph!--and a chip of +the ould block!--he'll be as good a fellow as his father." + +"No doubt," replied Palmer, shutting the door. "But what the devil +brought him back, just in the nick of it?" + + + + +_CHAPTER X_ + +_RANULPH ROOKWOOD_ + + _Fer._ Yes, Francisco, + He hath left his curse upon me. + + _Fran._ How? + + _Fer._ His curse I dost comprehend what that word carries? + Shot from a father's angry breath? Unless + I tear poor Felisarda from my heart, + He hath pronounced me heir to all his curses. + + SHIRLEY: _The Brothers_. + + +"There is nothing, I trust, my dear young friend, and quondam pupil," +said Dr. Small, as the door was closed, "that weighs upon your mind, +beyond the sorrow naturally incident to an affliction, severe as the +present. Forgive my apprehensions if I am wrong. You know the +affectionate interest I have ever felt for you--an interest which, I +assure you, is nowise diminished, and which will excuse my urging you to +unburden your mind to me; assuring yourself, that whatever may be your +disclosure, you will have my sincere sympathy and commiseration. I may +be better able to advise with you, should counsel be necessary, than +others, from my knowledge of your character and temperament. I would not +anticipate evil, and am, perhaps, unnecessarily apprehensive. But I own, +I am startled at the incoherence of your expressions, coupled with your +sudden and almost mysterious appearance at this distressing conjuncture. +Answer me: has your return been the result of mere accident? is it to be +considered one of those singular circumstances which almost look like +fate, and baffle our comprehension? or were you nearer home than we +expected, and received the news of your father's demise through some +channel unknown to us? Satisfy my curiosity, I beg of you, upon this +point." + +"Your curiosity, my dear sir," replied Ranulph, gravely and sadly, "will +not be decreased, when I tell you, that my return has neither been the +work of chance,--for I came, fully anticipating the dread event, which I +find realized,--nor has it been occasioned by any intelligence derived +from yourself, or others. It was only, indeed, upon my arrival here that +I received full confirmation of my apprehensions. I had another, a more +terrible summons to return." + +"What summons? you perplex me!" exclaimed Small, gazing with some +misgiving into the face of his young friend. + +"I am myself perplexed--sorely perplexed," returned Ranulph. "I have +much to relate; but I pray you bear with me to the end. I have that on +my mind which, like guilt, must be revealed." + +"Speak, then, fearlessly to me," said Small, affectionately pressing +Ranulph's hand, "and assure yourself, beforehand, of my sympathy." + +"It will be necessary," said Ranulph, "to preface my narrative by some +slight allusion to certain painful events--and yet I know not why I +should call them painful, excepting in their consequences--which +influenced my conduct in my final interview between my father and +myself--an interview which occasioned my departure for the +Continent--and which was of a character so dreadful, that I would not +even revert to it, were it not a necessary preliminary to the +circumstance I am about to detail. + +"When I left Oxford, I passed a few weeks alone, in London. A college +friend, whom I accidentally met, introduced me, during a promenade in +St. James's Park, to some acquaintances of his own, who were taking an +airing in the Mall at the same time--a family whose name was Mowbray, +consisting of a widow lady, her son, and daughter. This introduction was +made in compliance with my own request. I had been struck by the +singular beauty of the younger lady, whose countenance had a peculiar +and inexpressible charm to me, from its marked resemblance to the +portrait of the Lady Eleanor Rookwood, whose charms and unhappy fate I +have so often dwelt upon and deplored. The picture is there," continued +Ranulph, pointing to it: "look at it, and you have the fair creature I +speak of before you; the color of the hair--the tenderness of the eyes. +No--the expression is not so sad, except when----but no matter! I +recognized her features at once. + +"It struck me, that upon the mention of my name, the party betrayed some +surprise, especially the elder lady. For my own part, I was so attracted +by the beauty of the daughter, the effect of which upon me seemed rather +the fulfilment of a predestined event, originating in the strange +fascination which the family portrait had wrought in my heart, than the +operation of what is called 'love at first sight,' that I was insensible +to the agitation of the mother. In vain I endeavored to rally myself; my +efforts at conversation were fruitless; I could not talk--all I could do +was silently to yield to the soft witchery of those tender eyes; my +admiration increasing each instant that I gazed upon them. + +"I accompanied them home. Attracted as by some irresistible spell, I +could not tear myself away; so that, although I fancied I could perceive +symptoms of displeasure in the looks of both the mother and the son, +yet, regardless of consequences, I ventured, uninvited, to enter the +house. In order to shake off the restraint which I felt my society +imposed, I found it absolutely necessary to divest myself of +bashfulness, and to exert such conversational powers as I possessed. I +succeeded so well that the discourse soon became lively and animated; +and what chiefly delighted me was, that _she_, for whose sake I had +committed my present rudeness, became radiant with smiles. I had been +all eagerness to seek for some explanation of the resemblance to which I +have just alluded, and the fitting moment had, I conceived, arrived. I +called attention to a peculiar expression in the features of Miss +Mowbray, and then instanced the likeness that subsisted between her and +my ancestress. 'It is the more singular,' I said, turning to her mother, +'because there could have been no affinity, that I am aware of, between +them, and yet the likeness is really surprising.'--'It is not so +singular as you imagine,' answered Mrs. Mowbray; 'there _is_ a close +affinity. That Lady Rookwood was my mother. Eleanor Mowbray _does_ +resemble her ill-fated ancestress.' + +"Words cannot paint my astonishment. I gazed at Mrs. Mowbray, +considering whether I had not misconstrued her speech--whether I had not +so shaped the sounds as to suit my own quick and passionate conceptions. +But no! I read in her calm, collected countenance--in the downcast +glance, and sudden sadness of Eleanor, as well as in the changed and +haughty demeanor of the brother, that I had heard her rightly. Eleanor +Mowbray was my cousin--the descendant of that hapless creature whose +image I had almost worshipped. + +"Recovering from my surprise, I addressed Mrs. Mowbray, endeavoring to +excuse my ignorance of our relationship, on the plea that I had not been +given to understand that such had been the name of the gentleman she had +espoused. 'Nor was it,' answered she, 'the name he bore at Rookwood; +circumstances forbade it then. From the hour I quitted that house until +this moment, excepting one interview with my--with Sir Reginald +Rookwood--I have seen none of my family--have held no communication with +them. My brothers have been strangers to me; the very name of Rookwood +has been unheard, unknown; nor would you have been admitted here, had +not accident occasioned it.' I ventured now to interrupt her, and to +express a hope that she would suffer an acquaintance to be kept up, +which had so fortunately commenced, and which might most probably bring +about an entire reconciliation between the families. I was so earnest in +my expostulations, my whole soul being in them, that she inclined a +more friendly ear to me. Eleanor, too, smiled encouragement. Love lent +me eloquence; and at length, as a token of my success, and her own +relenting, Mrs. Mowbray held forth her hand: I clasped it eagerly. It +was the happiest moment of my life. + +"I will not trouble you with any lengthened description of Eleanor +Mowbray. I hope, at some period or other, you may still be enabled to +see her, and judge for yourself; for though adverse circumstances have +hitherto conspired to separate us, the time for a renewal of our +acquaintance is approaching, I trust, for I am not yet altogether +without hope. But this much I may be allowed to say, that her rare +endowments of person were only equalled by the graces of her mind. + +"Educated abroad, she had all the vivacity of our livelier neighbors, +combined with every solid qualification which we claim as more +essentially our own. Her light and frolic manner was French, certainly; +but her gentle, sincere heart was as surely English. The foreign accent +that dwelt upon her tongue communicated an inexpressible charm, even to +the language which she spoke. + +"I will not dwell too long upon this theme. I feel ashamed of my own +prolixity. And yet I am sure you will pardon it. Ah, those bright brief +days! too quickly were they fled! I could expatiate upon each +minute--recall each word--revive each look. It may not be. I must hasten +on. Darker themes await me. + +"My love made rapid progress--I became each hour more enamored of my +new-found cousin. My whole time was passed near her; indeed, I could +scarcely exist in absence from her side. Short, however, was destined to +be my indulgence in this blissful state. One happy week was its extent. +I received a peremptory summons from my father to return home. + +"Immediately upon commencing this acquaintance, I had written to my +father, explaining every particular attending it. This I should have +done of my own free will, but I was urged to it by Mrs. Mowbray. +Unaccustomed to disguise, I had expatiated upon the beauty of Eleanor, +and in such terms, I fear, that I excited some uneasiness in his breast. +His letter was laconic. He made no allusion to the subject upon which I +had expatiated when writing to him. He commanded me to return. + +"The bitter hour was at hand. I could not hesitate to comply. Without my +father's sanction, I was assured Mrs. Mowbray would not permit any +continuance of my acquaintance. Of Eleanor's inclinations I fancied I +had some assurance; but without her mother's consent, to whose will she +was devoted, I felt, had I even been inclined to urge it, that my suit +was hopeless. The letter which I had received from my father made me +more than doubt whether I should not find him utterly adverse to my +wishes. Agonized, therefore, with a thousand apprehensions, I presented +myself on the morning of my departure. It was then I made the +declaration of my passion to Eleanor; it was then that every hope was +confirmed, every apprehension realized. I received from her lips a +confirmation of my fondest wishes; yet were those hopes blighted in the +bud, when I heard, at the same time, that their consummation was +dependent on the will of two others, whose assenting voices, she feared, +could never be obtained. From Mrs. Mowbray I received a more decided +reply. All her haughtiness was aroused. Her farewell words assured me, +that it was indifferent to her whether we met again as relatives or as +strangers. Then was it that the native tenderness of Eleanor displayed +itself, in an outbreak of feeling peculiar to a heart keenly sympathetic +as hers. She saw my suffering--the reserve natural to her sex gave +way--she flung herself into my arms--and so we parted. + +"With a heavy foreboding I returned to Rookwood, and, oppressed with the +gloomiest anticipations, endeavored to prepare myself for the worst. I +arrived. My reception was such as I had calculated upon; and, to +increase my distress, my parents had been at variance. I will not pain +you and myself with any recital of their disagreement. My mother had +espoused my cause, chiefly, I fear, with the view of thwarting my poor +father's inclinations. He was in a terrible mood, exasperated by the +fiery stimulants he had swallowed, which had not indeed, drowned his +reason, but roused and inflamed every dormant emotion to violence. He +was as one insane. It was evening when I arrived. I would willingly have +postponed the interview till the morrow. It could not be. He insisted +upon seeing me. + +"My mother was present. You know the restraint she usually had over my +father, and how she maintained it. On this occasion she had none. He +questioned me as to every particular; probed my secret soul; dragged +forth every latent feeling, and then thundered out his own determination +that Eleanor never should be bride of mine; nor would he receive, under +his roof, her mother, the discountenanced daughter of his father. I +endeavored to remonstrate with him. He was deaf to my entreaties. My +mother added sharp and stinging words to my expostulations. 'I had her +consent,' she said; 'what more was needed? The lands were entailed. I +should at no distant period be their master, and might then please +myself.' This I mention in order to give you my father's strange answer. + +"'Have a care, madam,' replied he, 'and bridle your tongue; they _are_ +entailed, 'tis true, but I need not ask _his_ consent to cut off that +entail. Let him dare to disobey me in this particular, and I will so +divert the channel of my wealth, that no drop shall reach him. I +will--but why threaten?--let him do it, and approve the consequences.' + +"On the morrow I renewed my importunities, with no better success. We +were alone. + +"'Ranulph,' said he, 'you waste time in seeking to change my resolution. +It is unalterable. I have many motives which influence me; they are +inexplicable, but imperative. Eleanor Mowbray never can be yours. Forget +her as speedily as may be, and I pledge myself, upon whomsoever else +your choice may fix, I will offer no obstacle.' + +"'But why,' exclaimed I, with vehemence, 'do you object to one whom you +have never beheld? At least, consent to see her.' + +"'Never!' he replied, 'The tie is sundered, and cannot be reunited; my +father bound me by an oath never to meet in friendship with my sister; I +will not break my vow, I will not violate its conditions, even in the +second degree. We never can meet again. An idle prophecy which I have +heard has said "_that when a Rookwood shall marry a Rookwood the end of +the house draweth nigh_." That I regard not. It may have no meaning, or +it may have much. To me it imports nothing further, than that, if you +wed Eleanor, every acre I possess shall depart from you. And assure +yourself this is no idle threat. I can, and will do it. My curse shall +be your sole inheritance.' + +"I could not avoid making some reply, representing to him how +unjustifiable such a procedure was to me, in a case where the happiness +of my life was at stake; and how inconsistent it was with the charitable +precepts of our faith, to allow feelings of resentment to influence his +conduct. My remonstrances, as in the preceding meeting, were +ineffectual. The more I spoke, the more intemperate he grew. I therefore +desisted, but not before he had ordered me to quit the house. I did not +leave the neighborhood, but saw him again on the same evening. + +"Our last interview took place in the garden. I then told him that I had +determined to go abroad for two years, at the expiration of which period +I proposed returning to England; trusting that his resolution might then +be changed, and that he would listen to my request, for the fulfilment +of which I could never cease to hope. Time, I hoped, might befriend me. +He approved of my plan of travelling, requesting me not to see Eleanor +before I set out; adding, in a melancholy tone--'We may never meet +again, Ranulph, in this life; in that case, farewell forever. Indulge no +vain hopes. Eleanor never can be yours, but upon one condition, and to +that you would never consent!'--'Propose it!' I cried; 'there is no +condition I could not accede to.'--'Rash boy!' he replied, 'you know not +what you say; that pledge you would never fulfil, were I to propose it +to you; but no--should I survive till you return, you shall learn it +then--and now, farewell.'--'Speak now, I beseech you!' I exclaimed; +'anything, everything--what you will!'--'Say no more,' replied he, +walking towards the house; 'when you return we will renew this subject; +farewell--perhaps forever!' His words were prophetic--that parting _was_ +forever. I remained in the garden till nightfall. I saw my mother, but +_he_ came not again. I quitted England without beholding Eleanor." + +"Did you not acquaint her by letter with what had occurred, and your +consequent intentions?" asked Small. + +"I did," replied Ranulph; "but I received no reply. My earliest +inquiries will be directed to ascertain whether the family are still in +London. It will be a question for our consideration, whether I am not +justified in departing from my father's expressed wishes, or whether I +should violate his commands in so doing." + +"We will discuss that point hereafter," replied Small; adding, as he +noticed the growing paleness of his companion, "you are too much +exhausted to proceed--you had better defer the remainder of your story +to a future period." + +"No," replied Ranulph, swallowing a glass of water; "I am exhausted, yet +I cannot rest--my blood is in a fever, which nothing will allay. I shall +feel more easy when I have made the present communication. I am +approaching the sequel of my narrative. You are now in possession of the +story of my love--of the motive of my departure. You shall learn what +was the occasion of my return. + +"I had wandered from city to city during my term of exile--consumed by +hopeless passion--with little that could amuse _me_, though surrounded +by a thousand objects of interest to others, and only rendering life +endurable by severest study or most active exertion. My steps conducted +me to Bordeaux;--there I made a long halt, enchanted by the beauty of +the neighboring scenery. My fancy was smitten by the situation of a +villa on the banks of the Garonne, within a few leagues of the city. It +was an old chateau, with fine gardens bordering the blue waters of the +river, and commanding a multitude of enchanting prospects. The house, +which had in part gone to decay, was inhabited by an aged couple, who +had formerly been servants to an English family, the members of which +had thus provided for them on their return to their own country. I +inquired the name. Conceive my astonishment to find that this chateau +had been the residence of the Mowbrays. This intelligence decided me at +once--I took up my abode in the house; and a new and unexpected source +of solace and delight was opened to me, I traced the paths she had +traced; occupied the room she had occupied; tended the flowers she had +tended; and, on the golden summer evenings, would watch the rapid +waters, tinged with all the glorious hues of sunset, sweeping past my +feet, and think how _she_ had watched them. Her presence seemed to +pervade the place. I was now comparatively happy, and, anxious to remain +unmolested, wrote home that I was leaving Bordeaux for the Pyrenees, on +my way to Spain." + +"That account arrived," observed Small. + +"One night," continued Ranulph--"'tis now the sixth since the occurrence +I am about to relate--I was seated in a bower that overlooked the river. +It had been a lovely evening--so lovely, that I lingered there, wrapped +in the heavenly contemplation of its beauties. I watched each rosy tint +reflected upon the surface of the rapid stream--now fading into +yellow--now shining silvery white. I noticed the mystic mingling of +twilight with darkness--of night with day, till the bright current on a +sudden became a black mass of waters. I could scarcely discern a +leaf--all was darkness--when lo! another change! The moon was up--a +flood of light deluged all around--the stream was dancing again in +reflected radiance, and I still lingering at its brink. + +"I had been musing for some moments, with my head resting upon my hand, +when, happening to raise my eyes, I beheld a figure immediately before +me. I was astonished at the sight, for I had perceived no one +approach--had heard no footstep advance towards me, and was satisfied +that no one besides myself could be in the garden. The presence of the +figure inspired me with an undefinable awe! and, I can scarce tell why, +but a thrilling presentiment convinced me that it was a supernatural +visitant. Without motion--without life--without substance, it seemed; +yet still the outward character of life was there. I started to my feet. +God! what did I behold? The face was turned to me--my father's face! And +what an aspect, what a look! Time can never efface that terrible +expression; it is graven upon my memory--I cannot describe it. It was +not anger--it was not pain: it was as if an eternity of woe were stamped +upon its features. It was too dreadful to behold, I would fain have +averted my gaze--my eyes were fascinated--fixed--I could not withdraw +them from the ghastly countenance. I shrank from it, yet stirred not--I +could not move a limb. Noiselessly gliding towards me, the apparition +approached. I could not retreat. It stood obstinately beside me. I +became as one half-dead. The phantom shook its head with the deepest +despair; and as the word 'Return!' sounded hollowly in my ears, it +gradually melted from my view. I cannot tell how I recovered from the +swoon into which I fell, but daybreak saw me on my way to England. I am +here. On that night--at that same hour, my father died." + +"It was, after all, then, a supernatural summons that you received?" +said Small. + +"Undoubtedly," replied Ranulph. + +"Humph!--the coincidence, I own, is sufficiently curious," returned +Small, musingly; "but it would not be difficult, I think, to discover a +satisfactory explanation of the delusion." + +"There was no delusion," replied Ranulph, coldly; "the figure was as +palpable as your own. Can I doubt, when I behold this result? Could any +deceit have been practised upon me, at that distance?--the precise time, +moreover, agreeing. Did not the phantom bid me return?--I _have_ +returned--he is dead. I have gazed upon a being of another world. To +doubt were impious, after that look." + +"Whatever my opinions may be, my dear young friend," returned Small, +gravely, "I will suspend them for the present. You are still greatly +excited. Let me advise you to seek some repose." + +"I am easier," replied Ranulph; "but you are right, I will endeavor to +snatch a little rest. Something within tells me all is not yet +accomplished. What remains?--I shudder to think of it. I will rejoin you +at midnight. I shall myself attend the solemnity. Adieu!" + +Ranulph quitted the room. Small sighingly shook his head, and having +lighted his pipe, was presently buried in a profundity of smoke and +metaphysical speculation. + + + + +_CHAPTER XI_ + +_LADY ROOKWOOD_ + + _Fran. de Med._ Your unhappy husband + Is dead. + + _Vit. Cor._ Oh, he's a happy husband! + Now he owes nature nothing. + + _Mon._ And look upon this creature as his wife. + She comes not like a widow--she comes armed + With scorn and impudence. Is this a mourning habit? + + _The White Devil._ + + +The progress of our narrative demands our presence in another apartment +of the hall--a large, lonesome chamber, situate in the eastern wing of +the house, already described as the most ancient part of the +building--the sombre appearance of which was greatly increased by the +dingy, discolored tapestry that clothed its walls; the record of the +patience and industry of a certain Dame Dorothy Rookwood, who flourished +some centuries ago, and whose skilful needle had illustrated the +slaughter of the Innocents, with a severity of _gusto_, and sanguinary +minuteness of detail, truly surprising in a lady so amiable as she was +represented to have been. Grim-visaged Herod glared from the ghostly +woof, with his shadowy legions, executing their murderous purposes, +grouped like a troop of Sabbath-dancing witches around him. Mysterious +twilight, admitted through the deep, dark, mullioned windows, revealed +the antique furniture of the room, which still boasted a sort of +mildewed splendor, more imposing, perhaps, than its original gaudy +magnificence; and showed the lofty hangings, and tall, hearse-like +canopy of a bedstead, once a couch of state, but now destined for the +repose of Lady Rookwood. The stiff crimson hangings were embroidered in +gold, with the arms and cipher of Elizabeth, from whom the apartment, +having once been occupied by that sovereign, obtained the name of the +"Queen's Room." + +The sole tenant of this chamber was a female, in whose countenance, if +time and strong emotion had written strange defeatures, they had not +obliterated its striking beauty and classical grandeur of expression. It +was a face majestical and severe. Pride was stamped in all its lines; +and though each passion was, by turns, developed, it was evident that +all were subordinate to the sin by which the angels fell. The contour of +her face was formed in the purest Grecian mould, and might have been a +model for Medea; so well did the gloomy grandeur of the brow, the severe +chiselling of the lip, the rounded beauty of the throat, and the +faultless symmetry of her full form, accord with the beau ideal of +antique perfection. Shaded by smooth folds of raven hair, which still +maintained its jetty dye, her lofty forehead would have been displayed +to the greatest advantage, had it not been at this moment knit and +deformed by excess of passion, if that passion can be said to deform +which only calls forth strong and vehement expression. Her figure, which +wanted only height to give it dignity, was arrayed in the garb of +widowhood; and if she exhibited none of the desolation of heart which +such a bereavement might have been expected to awaken, she was evidently +a prey to feelings scarcely less harrowing. At the particular time of +which we speak, Lady Rookwood, for she it was, was occupied in the +investigation of the contents of an escritoire. Examining the papers +which it contained with great deliberation, she threw each aside, as +soon as she had satisfied herself of its purport, until she arrived at a +little package, carefully tied up with black ribbon, and sealed. This, +Lady Rookwood hastily broke open, and drew forth a small miniature. It +was that of a female, young and beautiful, rudely, yet faithfully, +executed--faithfully, we say, for there was an air of sweetness and +simplicity--and, in short, a look of reality and nature about the +picture (it is seldom, indeed, that we mistake a likeness, even if we +are unacquainted with the original) that attested the artist's fidelity. +The face was as radiant with smiles as a bright day with sunbeams. The +portrait was set in gold, and behind it was looped a lock of the darkest +and finest hair. Underneath the miniature was written, in Sir Piers's +hand, the words "_Lady Rookwood_." A slip of folded paper was also +attached to it. + +Lady Rookwood scornfully scrutinized the features for a few moments, and +then unfolded the paper, at the sight of which she started, and turned +pale. "Thank God!" she cried, "this is in my possession--while I hold +this, we are safe. Were it not better to destroy this evidence at once? +No, no, not _now_--it shall not part from me. I will abide Ranulph's +return. This document will give me a power over him such as I could +never otherwise obtain." Placing the marriage certificate, for such it +was, within her breast, and laying the miniature upon the table, she +next proceeded, deliberately, to arrange the disordered contents of the +box. + +All outward traces of emotion had, ere this, become so subdued in Lady +Rookwood, that although she had, only a few moments previously, +exhibited the extremity of passionate indignation, she now, apparently +without effort, resumed entire composure, and might have been supposed +to be engaged in a matter of little interest to herself. It was a dread +calm, which they who knew her would have trembled to behold. "From these +letters I gather," exclaimed she, "that their wretched offspring knows +not of his fortune. So far, well. There is no channel whence he can +derive information, and my first care shall be to prevent his obtaining +any clue to the secret of his birth. I am directed to provide for +him--ha! ha! I will provide--a grave! There will I bury him and his +secret. My son's security and my own wrong demand it. I must choose +surer hands--the work must not be half-done, as heretofore. And now, I +bethink me, he is in the neighborhood, connected with a gang of +poachers--'tis as I could wish it." + +At this moment a knock at the chamber-door broke upon her meditations. +"Agnes, is it you?" demanded Lady Rookwood. + +Thus summoned, the old attendant entered the room. + +"Why are my orders disobeyed?" asked the lady, in a severe tone of +voice. "Did I not say, when you delivered me this package from Mr. +Coates, which he himself wished to present, that I would not be +disturbed?" + +"You did, my lady, but----" + +"Speak out," said Lady Rookwood, somewhat more mildly, perceiving, from +Agnes's manner, that she had something of importance to communicate. +"What is it brings you hither?" + +"I am sorry," returned Agnes, "to disturb your ladyship, but--but----" + +"But what?" interrupted Lady Rookwood, impatiently. + +"I could not help it, my lady--he would have me come; he said he was +resolved to see your ladyship, whether you would or not." + +"Would see me, ha! is it so? I guess his errand, and its object--he has +some suspicion. No, that cannot be; he would not dare to tamper with +these seals. Agnes, I will _not_ see him." + +"But he swears, my lady, that he will not leave the house without seeing +you--he would have forced his way into your presence, if I had not +consented to announce him." + +"Insolent!" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, with a glance of indignation; +"force his way! I promise you he shall not display an equal anxiety to +repeat the visit. Tell Mr. Coates I will see him." + +"Mr. Coates! Mercy on us, my lady, it's not he. He'd never have intruded +upon you unasked. No such thing. He knows his place too well. No, no; +it's not Mr. Coates----" + +"If not he, who is it?" + +"Luke Bradley; your ladyship knows whom I mean." + +"He here--now?----" + +"Yes, my lady; and looking so fierce and strange, I was quite frightened +to see him. He looked so like his--his----" + +"His father, you would say. Speak out." + +"No, my lady, his grandfather--old Sir Reginald. He's the very image of +him. But had not your ladyship better ring the alarm-bell? and when he +comes in, I'll run and fetch the servants--he's dangerous, I'm sure." + +"I have no fears of him. He _will_ see me, you say----" + +"Ay, _will_!" exclaimed Luke, as he threw open the door, and shut it +forcibly after him, striding towards Lady Rookwood, "nor abide longer +delay." + +It was an instant or two ere Lady Rookwood, thus taken by surprise, +could command speech. She fixed her eyes with a look of keen and angry +inquiry upon the bold intruder, who, nothing daunted, confronted her +glances with a gaze as stern and steadfast as her own. + +"Who are you, and what seek you?" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, after a brief +pause, and, in spite of herself, her voice sounded tremulously. "What +would you have, that you venture to appear before me at this season and +in this fashion?" + +"I might have chosen a fitter opportunity," returned Luke, "were it +needed. My business will not brook delay--you must be pleased to +overlook this intrusion on your privacy, at a season of sorrow like the +present. As to the fashion of my visit, you must be content to excuse +it. I cannot help myself. I may amend hereafter. Who I am, you are able, +I doubt not, to divine. What I seek, you shall hear, when this old woman +has left the room, unless you would have a witness to a declaration that +concerns you as nearly as myself." + +An indefinite feeling of apprehension had, from the first instant of +Luke's entrance crossed Lady Rookwood's mind. She, however, answered, +with some calmness: + +"What you can have to say is of small moment to me--nor does it signify +who may hear it. It shall not, however, be said that Lady Rookwood +feared to be alone, even though she endangered her life." + +"I am no assassin," replied Luke, "nor have sought the destruction of my +deadliest foe--though 'twere but retributive justice to have done so." + +Lady Rookwood started. + +"Nay, you need not fear me," replied Luke; "my revenge will be otherwise +accomplished." + +"Go," said Lady Rookwood to Agnes; "yet--stay without, in the +antechamber." + +"My lady," said Agnes, scarcely able to articulate, "shall I----" + +"Hear me, Lady Rookwood," interrupted Luke. "I repeat, I intend you no +injury. My object here is solely to obtain a private conference. You can +have no reason for denying me this request. I will not abuse your +patience. Mine is no idle mission. Say you refuse me, and I will at once +depart. I will find other means of communicating with you--less direct, +and therefore less desirable. Make your election. But we _must_ be +alone--undisturbed. Summon your household--let them lay hands upon me, +and I will proclaim aloud what you would gladly hide, even from +yourself." + +"Leave us, Agnes," said Lady Rookwood. "I have no fear of this man. I +can deal with him myself, should I see occasion." + +"Agnes," said Luke, in a stern, deep whisper, arresting the ancient +handmaiden as she passed him, "stir not from the door till I come forth. +Have you forgotten your former mistress!--my mother? Have you forgotten +Barbara Lovel, and _that night_?" + +"In Heaven's name, hush!" replied Agnes, with a shudder. + +"Let that be fresh in your memory. Move not a footstep, whatever you may +hear," added he, in the same tone as before. + +"I will not--I will not." And Agnes departed. + +Luke felt some wavering in his resolution when he found himself alone +with the lady, whose calm, collected, yet haughty demeanor, as she +resumed her seat, prepared for his communication, could not fail to +inspire him with a certain degree of awe. Not unconscious of her +advantage, nor slow to profit by it, Lady Rookwood remained perfectly +silent, with her eyes steadily fixed upon his face, while his +embarrassment momentarily increased. Summoning, at length, courage +sufficient to address her, and ashamed of his want of nerve, he thus +broke forth: + +"When I entered this room, you asked my name and object. As to the +first, I answer to the same designation as your ladyship. I have long +borne my mother's name. I now claim my father's. My object is, the +restitution of my rights." + +"Soh!--it is as I suspected," thought Lady Rookwood, involuntarily +casting her large eyes down. "Do I hear you rightly?" exclaimed she, +aloud; "your name is----" + +"Sir Luke Rookwood. As my father's elder born; by right of _his_ right +to that title." + +If a glance could have slain him, Luke had fallen lifeless at the lady's +feet. With a smile of ineffable disdain, she replied, "I know not why I +hesitate to resent this indignity, even for an instant. But I would see +how far your audacity will carry you. The name you bear is Bradley?" + +"In ignorance I have done so," replied Luke. "I am the son of her whose +maiden name was Bradley. She was----" + +"'Tis false--I will not hear it--she was _not_," cried Lady Rookwood, +her vehemence getting the master of her prudence. + +"Your ladyship anticipates my meaning," returned Luke. "Susan Bradley +was the first wife of Sir Piers Rookwood." + +"His minion--his mistress if you will; nought else. Is it new to you, +that a village wench, who lends herself to shame, should be beguiled by +such shallow pretences? That she was so duped, I doubt not. But it is +too late now to complain, and I would counsel you not to repeat your +idle boast. It will serve no other purpose, trust me, than to blazon +forth your own--your mother's dishonor." + +"Lady Rookwood," sternly answered Luke, "my mother's fame is as free +from dishonor as your own. I repeat, she was the first wife of Sir +Piers; and that I, her child, am first in the inheritance; nay, sole +heir to the estates and title of Rookwood, to the exclusion of your son. +Ponder upon that intelligence. Men say they fear you, as a thing of ill. +_I_ fear you not. There _have_ been days when the Rookwoods held their +dames in subjection. Discern you nought of that in me?" + +Once or twice during this speech Lady Rookwood's glances had wandered +towards the bell-cord, as if about to summon aid; but the intention was +abandoned almost as soon as formed, probably from apprehension of the +consequences of any such attempt. She was not without alarm as to the +result of the interview, and was considering how she could bring it to a +termination without endangering herself, and, if possible, secure the +person of Luke, when the latter, turning sharply round upon her, and +drawing a pistol, exclaimed,-- + +"Follow me!" + +"Whither?" asked she, in alarm. + +"To the chamber of death!" + +"Why there? what would you do? Villain! I will not trust my life with +you. I will _not_ follow you." + +"Hesitate not, as you value your life. Do aught to alarm the house, and +I fire. Your safety depends upon yourself. I would see my father's body +ere it be laid in the grave. I will not leave you here." + +"Go," said Lady Rookwood; "if that be all, I pledge myself you shall not +be interrupted." + +"I will not take your pledge; your presence shall be my surety. By my +mother's unavenged memory, if you play me false, though all your +satellites stand around you, you die upon the spot! Obey me, and you are +safe. Our way leads to the room by the private staircase--we shall pass +unobserved--you see I know the road. The room, by your own command, is +vacant--save of the dead. We shall, therefore, be alone. This done, I +depart. You will then be free to act. Disobey me, and your blood be upon +your own head." + +"Lead on!" said Lady Rookwood, pressing towards the antechamber. + +"The door I mean is there," pointing to another part of the room--"that +panel,--" + +"Ha! how know you that?" + +"No matter; follow." + +Luke touched a spring, and the panel flying open, disclosed a dim +recess, into which he entered; and, seizing Lady Rookwood's hand, +dragged her after him. + + + + +_CHAPTER XII_ + +_THE CHAMBER OF DEATH_ + + It is the body--I have orders given + That here it should be laid. + + _De Montfort._ + + +The recess upon which the panel opened had been a small oratory, and, +though entirely disused, still retained its cushions and its crucifix. +There were two other entrances to this place of prayer, the one +communicating with a further bedchamber, the other leading to the +gallery. Through the latter, after closing the aperture, without +relinquishing his grasp, Luke passed. + +It was growing rapidly dark, and at the brightest seasons this gloomy +corridor was but imperfectly lighted from narrow, painted, and +wire-protected windows that looked into the old quadrangular courtyard +below; and as they issued from the oratory a dazzling flash of +lightning--a storm having suddenly arisen--momentarily illumined the +whole length of the passage, disclosing the retreating figure of a man, +wrapped in a large sable cloak, at the other extremity of the gallery. +Lady Rookwood uttered an outcry for assistance; but the man, whoever he +might be, disappeared in the instantaneously succeeding gloom, leaving +her in doubt whether or not her situation had been perceived. Luke had +seen this dark figure at the same instant; and, not without +apprehensions lest his plans should be defeated, he griped Lady +Rookwood's arm still more strictly, and placing the muzzle of the pistol +to her breast, hurried her rapidly forwards. + +All was now in total obscurity; the countenance of neither could be +perceived as they trod the dark passage; but Luke's unrelaxed grasp +indicated no change in his purposes, nor did the slow, dignified march +of the lady betray any apprehension on her part. Descending a spiral +staircase, which led from the gallery to a lower story, their way now +lay beneath the entrance-hall, a means of communication little used. +Their tread sounded hollowly on the flagged floor; no other sound was +heard. Mounting a staircase, similar to the one they had just descended, +they arrived at another passage. A few paces brought them to the door. +Luke turned the handle, and they stood within the chamber of the dead. + +The room which contained the remains of poor Sir Piers was arrayed in +all that mockery of state which, vainly attempting to deride death, is +itself a bitter derision of the living. It was the one devoted to the +principal meals of the day; a strange choice, but convenience had +dictated its adoption by those with whom this part of the ceremonial had +originated, and long custom had rendered its usage, for this purpose, +almost prescriptive. This room, which was of some size, had originally +formed part of the great hall, from which it was divided by a thick +screen of black, lustrously varnished oak, enriched with fanciful +figures carved in bold relief. The walls were panelled with the same +embrowned material, and sustained sundry portraits of the members of the +family, in every possible costume, from the steely gear of Sir Ranulph, +down to the flowing attire of Sir Reginald. Most of the race were ranged +around the room; and, seen in the yellow light shed upon their features +by the flambeaux, they looked like an array of stern and silent +witnesses, gazing upon their departed descendant. The sides of the +chamber were hung with black cloth, and upon a bier in the middle of the +room rested the body. Broad escutcheons, decked out in glowing colors +pompously set forth the heraldic honors of the departed. Tall lights +burned at the head and feet, and fragrant perfumes diffused their odors +from silver censers. + +The entrance of Luke and his unwilling companion had been abrupt. The +transition from darkness to the glare of light was almost blinding, and +they had advanced far into the room ere Lady Rookwood perceived a man, +whom she took to be one of the mutes, leaning over the bier. The +coffin-lid was entirely removed, and the person, whose back was towards +them appeared to be wrapped in mournful contemplation of the sad +spectacle before him. Suddenly bursting from Luke's hold, Lady Rookwood +rushed forward with a scream, and touched the man's shoulder. He started +at the summons, and disclosed the features of her son! + +Rapidly as her own act, Luke followed. He levelled a pistol at her head, +but his hand dropped to his side as he encountered the glance of +Ranulph. All three seemed paralyzed by surprise. Ranulph, in +astonishment, extended his arm to his mother, who, placing one arm over +his shoulder, pointed with the other to Luke; the latter stared sternly +and inquiringly at both--yet none spoke. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIII_ + +_THE BROTHERS_ + + We're sorry + His violent act has e'en drawn blood of honor, + And stained our honors; + Thrown ink upon the forehead of our fame, + Which envious spirits will dip their pens into + After our death, and blot us in our tombs; + For that which would seem treason in our lives, + Is laughter when we're dead. Who dares now whisper, + That dares not then speak out; and even proclaim, + With loud words, and broad pens, our closest shame? + + _The Revenger's Tragedy._ + + +With that quickness of perception which at once supplies information on +such an emergency, Luke instantly conjectured who was before him. +Startled as he was, he yet retained his composure, abiding the result +with his arms folded upon his breast. + +"Seize him!" cried Lady Rookwood, as soon as she could command her +speech. + +"He rushes on his death if he stirs," exclaimed Luke, pointing his +pistol. + +"Bethink you where you are, villain!" cried Ranulph; "you are entrapped +in your own toils. Submit yourself to our mercy--resistance is vain, and +will not secure your safety, while it will aggravate your offence. +Surrender yourself----" + +"Never!" answered Luke. "Know you whom you ask to yield?" + +"How should I?" answered Ranulph. + +"By that instinct which tells me who _you_ are. Ask Lady Rookwood--she +can inform you, if she will." + +"Parley not with him--seize him!" cried Lady Rookwood. "He is a robber, +a murderer, who has assailed my life." + +"Beware!" said Luke to Ranulph, who was preparing to obey his mother's +commands; "I am no robber--no murderer. Do not you make me a +fratricide." + +"Fratricide!" echoed Ranulph. + +"Heed him not," ejaculated Lady Rookwood. "It is false--he dares not +harm thee, for his soul. I will call assistance." + +"Hold, mother!" exclaimed Ranulph, detaining Lady Rookwood; "this man +may be what he represents himself. Before we proceed to extremities, I +would question him. I would not have mentioned it in your hearing could +it have been avoided, but my father had another son." + +Lady Rookwood frowned. She would have checked him, but Luke rejoined-- + +"You have spoken the truth; he had a son--I am he. I----" + +"Be silent, I command you!" said Lady Rookwood. + +"Death!" cried Luke, in a loud voice. "Why should I be silent at your +bidding--at _yours_--who regard no laws, human or divine; who pursue +your own fell purposes, without fear of God or man? Waste not your +frowns on me--I heed them not. Do you think I am like a tame hound, to +be cowed to silence? I _will_ speak. Ranulph Rookwood, the name you bear +is mine, and by a right as good as is your own. From his loins, who lies +a corpse before us, I sprang. No brand of shame is on my birth. I am +your father's son--his first-born--your _elder_ brother. Hear me!" cried +he, rushing to the bier. "By this body, I swear that I have avouched the +truth--and though to me the dead Sir Piers Rookwood hath never been what +a father should be to a son--though I have never known his smile, felt +his caresses, or received his blessing, yet now be all forgiven, all +forgotten." And he cast himself with frantic violence upon the coffin. + +It is difficult to describe the feelings with which Ranulph heard Luke's +avowal. Amazement and dread predominated. Unable to stir, he stood +gazing on in silence. Not so Lady Rookwood. The moment for action was +arrived. Addressing her son in a low tone, she said, "Your prey is +within your power. Secure him." + +"Wherefore?" rejoined Ranulph; "if he be my brother, shall I raise my +hand against him?" + +"Wherefore not?" returned Lady Rookwood. + +"'Twere an accursed deed," replied Ranulph. "The mystery is resolved. +'Twas for this that I was summoned home." + +"Ha! what say you? summoned! by whom?" + +"My father!" + +"Your father?" echoed Lady Rookwood, in great surprise. + +"Ay, my dead father! He has appeared to me since his decease." + +"Ranulph, you rave--you are distracted with grief--with astonishment." + +"No, mother; but I will not struggle against my destiny." + +"Pshaw! your destiny is Rookwood, its manors, its lands, its rent-roll, +and its title; nor shall you yield it to a base-born churl like this. +Let him prove his rights. Let the law adjudge them to him, and we will +yield--but not till then. I tell thee he has _not_ the right, nor can he +maintain it. He is a deluded dreamer, who, having heard some idle tale +of his birth, believes it, because it chimes with his wishes. I treated +him with the scorn he deserved. I would have driven him from my +presence, but he was armed, as you see, and forced me hither, perhaps to +murder me; a deed he might have accomplished had it not been for your +intervention. His life is already forfeit, for an attempt of the same +sort last night. Why else came he hither? for what else did he drag me +to this spot? Let him answer that!" + +"I _will_ answer it," replied Luke, raising himself from the bier. + +His face was ghastly as the corpse over which he leaned. "I had a deed +to do, which I wished you to witness. It was a wild conception. But the +means by which I have acquired the information of my rights were wild. +Ranulph, we are both the slaves of fate. You have received your summons +hither--I have had mine. Your father's ghost called you; my mother's +spectral hand beckoned me. Both are arrived. One thing more remains, and +my mission is completed." Saying which, he drew forth the skeleton hand; +and having first taken the wedding-ring from the finger, he placed the +withered limb upon the left breast of his father's body. "Rest there," +he cried, "for ever." + +"Will you suffer that?" said Lady Rookwood, tauntingly, to her son. + +"No," replied Ranulph; "such profanation of the dead shall not be +endured, were he ten times my brother. Stand aside," added he, advancing +towards the bier, and motioning Luke away. "Withdraw your hand from my +father's body, and remove what you have placed upon it." + +"I will neither remove it nor suffer it to be removed," returned Luke. +"'Twas for that purpose I came hither. 'Twas to that hand he was united +in life, in death he shall not be divided from it." + +"Such irreverence shall not be!" exclaimed Ranulph, seizing Luke with +one hand, and snatching at the cereclothes with the other. "Remove it, +or by Heaven----" + +"Leave go your hold," said Luke, in a voice of thunder; "you strive in +vain." + +Ranulph ineffectually attempted to push him backwards; and, shaking away +the grasp that was fixed upon his collar, seized his brother's wrist, so +as to prevent the accomplishment of his purpose. In this unnatural and +indecorous strife the corpse of their father was reft of its covering +and the hand discovered lying upon the pallid breast. + +And as if the wanton impiety of their conduct called forth an immediate +rebuke, even from the dead, a frown seemed to pass over Sir Piers's +features, as their angry glances fell in that direction. This startling +effect was occasioned by the approach of Lady Rookwood, whose shadow, +falling over the brow and visage of the deceased, produced the +appearance we have described. Simultaneously quitting each other, with a +deep sense of shame, mingled with remorse, both remained, their eyes +fixed upon the dead, whose repose they had violated. + +Folding the graveclothes decently over the body, Luke prepared to +depart. + +"Hold!" cried Lady Rookwood; "you go not hence." + +"My brother Ranulph will not oppose my departure," returned Luke; "who +else shall prevent it?" + +"That will I!" cried a sharp voice behind him; and, ere he could turn to +ascertain from whom the exclamation proceeded, Luke felt himself +grappled by two nervous assailants, who, snatching the pistol from his +hold, fast pinioned his arms. + +This was scarcely the work of a moment, and he was a prisoner before he +could offer any resistance. A strong smile of exultation evinced Lady +Rookwood's satisfaction. + +"Bravo, my lads, bravo!" cried Coates, stepping forward, for he it was +under whose skilful superintendence the seizure had been effected: +"famously managed; my father the thief-taker's runners couldn't have +done it better--hand me that pistol--loaded, I see--slugs, no doubt--oh, +he's a precious rascal--search him--turn his pockets inside out, while I +speak to her ladyship." Saying which, the brisk attorney, enchanted with +the feat he had performed, approached Lady Rookwood with a profound bow, +and an amazing smirk of self-satisfaction. "Just in time to prevent +mischief," said he; "hope your ladyship does not suffer any +inconvenience from the alarm--beg pardon, annoyance I meant to +say--which this horrible outrage must have occasioned; excessively +disagreeable this sort of thing to a lady at any time, but at a period +like this more than usually provoking. However, we have the villain safe +enough. Very lucky I happened to be in the way. Perhaps your ladyship +would like to know how I discovered----" + +"Not now," replied Lady Rookwood, checking the volubility of the man of +law. "I thank you, Mr. Coates, for the service you have rendered me; you +will now add materially to the obligation by removing the prisoner with +all convenient despatch." + +"Certainly, if your ladyship wishes it. Shall I detain him a close +prisoner in the hall for the night, or remove him at once to the lock-up +house in the village?" + +"Where you please, so you do it quickly," replied Lady Rookwood, +noticing, with great uneasiness, the agitated manner of her son, and +apprehensive lest, in the presence of so many witnesses, he might say or +do something prejudicial to their interests. Nor were her fears +groundless. As Coates was about to return to the prisoner, he was +arrested by the voice of Ranulph, commanding him to stay. + +"Mr. Coates," said he, "however appearances may be against this man, he +is no robber--you must, therefore, release him." + +"Eh day, what's that? release him, Sir Ranulph?" + +"Yes, sir; I tell you he came here neither with the intent to rob nor to +offer violence." + +"That is false, Ranulph," replied Lady Rookwood. "I was dragged hither +by him at the peril of my life. He is Mr. Coates's prisoner on another +charge." + +"Unquestionably, your ladyship is perfectly right; I have a warrant +against him for assaulting Hugh Badger, the keeper, and for other +misdemeanors." + +"I will myself be responsible for his appearance to that charge," +replied Ranulph. "Now, sir, at once release him." + +"At your peril!" exclaimed Lady Rookwood. + +"Well, really," muttered the astonished attorney, "this is the most +perplexing proceeding I ever witnessed." + +"Ranulph," said Lady Rookwood, sternly, to her son, "beware how you +thwart me!" + +"Yes, Sir Ranulph, let me venture to advise you, as a friend, not to +thwart her ladyship," whispered the attorney; "indeed, she is in the +right." But seeing his advice unheeded, Coates withdrew to a little +distance. + +"I will not see injustice done to my father's son," replied Ranulph, in +a low tone. "Why would you detain him?" + +"Why?" returned she, "our safety demands it--our honor." + +"Our honor demands his instant liberation; each moment he remains in +those bonds sullies its purity. I will free him myself from his +fetters." + +"And brave my curse, foolish boy? You incurred your miserable father's +anathema for a lighter cause than this. Our honor cries aloud for his +destruction. Have I not been injured in the nicest point a woman can be +injured? Shall I lend my name to mockery and scorn, by base +acknowledgment of such deceit, or will you? Where would be my honor, +then, stripped of my fair estates--my son--myself--beggars--dependent on +the bounty of an upstart? Does honor ask you to bear this? It is a +phantom sense of honor, unsubstantial as your father's shade, of which +you just now spoke, that would prompt you to do otherwise." + +"Do not evoke his awful spirit, mother," cried Ranulph, with a shudder; +"do not arouse his wrath." + +"Do not arouse _my_ wrath," returned Lady Rookwood. "I am the more to be +feared. Think of Eleanor Mowbray; the bar between your nuptials is +removed. Would you raise up a greater impediment?" + +"Enough, mother; more than enough. You have decided, though not +convinced me. Detain him within the house, if you will, until the +morrow; in the meantime, I will consider over my line of conduct." + +"Is this, then, your resolve?" + +"It is. Mr. Coates," said Ranulph, calling the attorney, who had been an +inquisitive spectator, though, luckily, not an auditor of this +interview, "unbind the prisoner, and bring him hither." + +"Is it your ladyship's pleasure?" asked Mr. Coates, who regretted +exceedingly that he could not please both parties. + +Lady Rookwood signified her assent by a slight gesture in the +affirmative. + +"Your bidding shall be done, Sir Ranulph," said Coates, bowing and +departing. + +"_Sir_ Ranulph!" echoed Lady Rookwood, with strong emphasis; "marked you +that?" + +"Body o' me," muttered the attorney, "this is the most extraordinary +family, to be sure. Make way, gentlemen, if you please," added he, +pushing through the crowd, towards the prisoner. + +Having described what took place between Lady Rookwood and her son in +one part of the room, we must now briefly narrate some incidental +occurrences in the other. The alarm of a robber having been taken spread +with great celerity through the house, and almost all its inmates rushed +into the room, including Dr. Small, Titus Tyrconnel, and Jack Palmer. + +"Odsbodikins! are you there, honey?" said Titus, who discovered his +ally; "the bird's caught, you see." + +"Caught be d--d," replied Jack, bluffly; "so I see; all his own fault; +infernal folly to come here, at such a time as this. However, it can't +be helped now; he must make the best of it. And as to that sneaking, +gimlet-eyed, parchment-skinned quill-driver, if I don't serve him out +for his officiousness one of these days, my name's not Jack Palmer." + +"Och! cushlamacree! did I ever? why, what's the boy to you, Jack? Fair +play's a jewel, and surely Mr. Coates only did his duty. I'm sorry he's +captured, for his relationship to Sir Piers, and because I think he'll +be tucked up for his pains; and, moreover, I could forgive the poaching; +but as to the breaking into a house on such an occasion as this, och! +It's a plaguy bad look. I'm afraid he's worse than I thought him." + +A group of the tenantry, many of whom were in a state of intoxication, +had, in the meantime, formed themselves round the prisoner. Whatever +might be the nature of his thoughts, no apprehension was visible in +Luke's countenance. He stood erect amidst the assemblage, his tall form +towering above them all, and his eyes fixed upon the movements of Lady +Rookwood and her son. He had perceived the anguish of the latter, and +the vehemence of the former, attributing both to their real causes. The +taunts and jeers, threats and insolent inquiries, of the hinds who +thronged around him, passed unheeded; yet one voice in his ear, sharp as +the sting of a serpent, made him start. It was that of the sexton. + +"You have done well," said Peter, "have you not? Your fetters are, I +hope, to your liking. Well! a wilful man must have his own way, and +perhaps the next time you will be content to follow my advice. You must +now free yourself, the best way you can, from these Moabites, and I +promise you it will be no easy matter. Ha, ha!" + +Peter withdrew into the crowd; and Luke, vainly endeavoring to discover +his retreating figure, caught the eye of Jack Palmer fixed upon himself, +with a peculiar and very significant expression. + +At this moment Mr. Coates made his appearance. + +"Bring forward the prisoner," said the man of law to his two assistants; +and Luke was accordingly hurried along, Mr. Coates using his best +efforts to keep back the crowd. It was during the pressure that Luke +heard a voice whisper in his ear, "Never fear; all's right!" and turning +his head, he became aware of the propinquity of Jack Palmer. The latter +elevated his eyebrows with a gesture of silence, and Luke passed on as +if nothing had occurred. He was presently confronted with Lady Rookwood +and her son; and, notwithstanding the efforts of Mr. Coates, seconded by +some few others, the crowd grew dense around them. + +"Remove his fetters," said Ranulph. And his manacles were removed. + +"You will consent to remain here a prisoner till to-morrow?" + +"I consent to nothing," replied Luke; "I am in your hands." + +"He does not deserve your clemency, Sir Ranulph," interposed Coates. + +"Let him take his own course," said Lady Rookwood; "he will reap the +benefit of it anon." + +"Will you pledge yourself not to depart?" asked Ranulph. + +"Of course," cried the attorney; "to be sure he will. Ha, ha!" + +"No," returned Luke, haughtily, "I will not--and you will detain me at +your proper peril." + +"Better and better," exclaimed the attorney. "This is the highest joke I +ever heard." + +"I shall detain, you, then, in custody, until proper inquiries can be +made," said Ranulph. "To your care, Mr. Coates, and to that of Mr. +Tyrconnel, whom I must request to lend you his assistance, I commit the +charge; and I must further request, that you will show him every +attention which his situation will permit. Remove him. We have a sacred +duty to the dead to fulfil, to which even justice to the living must +give way. Disperse this crowd, and let instant preparations be made for +the completion of the ceremonial. You understand me, sir." + +"Ranulph Rookwood," said Luke, sternly, as he departed, "you have +another--a more sacred office to perform. Fulfil your duty to your +father's son." + +"Away with him!" cried Lady Rookwood. "I am out of all patience with +this trilling. Follow me to my chamber," added she to her son, passing +towards the door. The concourse of spectators, who had listened to this +extraordinary scene in astonishment, made way for her instantly, and she +left the room, accompanied by Ranulph. The prisoner was led out by the +other door. + +"Botheration!" cried Titus to Mr. Coates, as they followed in the wake, +"why did he choose out me? I'll lose the funeral entirely by his +arrangement." + +"That you will," replied Palmer. "Shall I be your deputy?" + +"No, no," returned Coates. "I will have no other than Mr. Tyrconnel. It +was Sir Ranulph's express wish." + +"That's the devil of it," returned Titus; "and I, who was to have been +chief mourner, and have made all the preparations, am to be omitted. I +wish Sir Ranulph had stayed till to-morrow--what could bring him here, +to spoil all?--it's cursedly provoking!" + +"Cursed provoking!" echoed Jack. + +"But then there's no help, so I must make the best of it," returned the +good-humored Irishman. + +"Body o' me," said Coates, "there's something in all this that I can't +fathom. As to keeping the prisoner _here_, that's all moonshine. But I +suppose we shall know the whole drift of it to-morrow." + +"Ay," replied Jack, with a meaning smile, "to-morrow!" + + + + +_BOOK II_ + + +_THE SEXTON_ + + _Duchess._ Thou art very plain. + + _Bosola._ My trade is to flatter the dead--not the living--I am a + tomb-maker. + + WEBSTER. + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_THE STORM_ + + Come, list, and hark! the bell doth towle, + For some but now departing sowle; + And was not that some ominous fowle? + The bat, the night-crow, or screech-owle? + To these I hear the wild wolf howle, + In this dark night that seems to scowle;-- + All these my blacke-booke shall enrowle, + For hark! still hark! the bell doth towle + For some but new-departed sowle! + + HAYWOOD: _Rape of Lucrece_. + + +The night was wild and stormy. The day had been sultry, with a lurid, +metallic-looking sky, hanging like a vast galvanic plate over the face +of nature. As evening drew on, everything betokened the coming tempest. +Unerring indications of its approach were noted by the weatherwise at +the hall. The swallow was seen to skim the surface of the pool so +closely that he ruffled its placid mirror as he passed; and then, +sharply darting round and round, with twittering scream, he winged his +rapid flight to his clay-built home, beneath the barn eaves. The kine +that had herded to the margin of the water, and sought, by splashing, to +relieve themselves from the keen persecution of their myriad insect +tormentors, wended stallwards, undriven, and deeply lowing. The deer, +that at twilight had trooped thither also for refreshment, suddenly, +"with expanded nostrils, snuffed the air," and bounded off to their +coverts, amidst the sheltering fernbrake. The rooks "obstreperous of +wing, in crowds combined," cawed in a way that, as plainly as words +could have done, bespoke their apprehension; and were seen, some +hovering and beating the air with flapping pinion, others shooting +upwards in mid space, as if to reconnoitre the weather; while others, +again, were croaking to their mates, in loud discordant tone, from the +highest branches of the lime-trees; all, seemingly, as anxious and as +busy as mariners before a gale of wind. At sunset, the hazy vapors, +which had obscured the horizon throughout the day, rose up in spiral +volumes, like smoke from a burning forest, and, becoming gradually +condensed, assumed the form of huge, billowy masses, which, reflecting +the sun's light, changed, as the sinking orb declined, from purple to +flame-color, and thence to ashy, angry gray. Night rushed onwards, like +a sable steed. There was a dead calm. The stillness was undisturbed, +save by an intermittent, sighing wind, which, hollow as a murmur from +the grave, died as it rose. At once the gray clouds turned to an inky +blackness. A single, sharp, intensely vivid flash, shot from the bosom +of the rack, sheer downwards, and struck the earth with a report like +that of a piece of ordnance. In ten minutes it was dunnest night, and a +rattling thunder-storm. + +The progress of the storm was watched with infinite apprehension by the +crowd of tenantry assembled in the great hall; and loud and frequent +were the ejaculations uttered, as each succeeding peal burst over their +heads. There was, however, one amongst the assemblage who seemed to +enjoy the uproar. A kindred excitement appeared to blaze in his glances, +as he looked upon the storm without. This was Peter Bradley. He stood +close by the window, and shaded not his eyes, even before the fiercest +flashes. A grin of unnatural exhilaration played upon his features, and +he seemed to exult in, and to court, the tempestuous horrors, which +affected the most hardy amongst his companions with consternation, and +made all shrink, trembling, into the recesses of the room. Peter's +conduct was not unobserved, nor his reputation for unholy dealing +forgotten. To some he was almost as much an object of dread as the storm +itself. + +"Didst ever see the like o' that?" said Farmer Burtenshaw--one of the +guests, whose round, honest face good wine had recently empurpled, but +fear had now mottled white,--addressing a neighbor. "Didst ever hear of +any man that were a Christian laughing in the very face o' a +thunder-storm, with the lightnin' fit to put out his eyes, and the +rattle above ready to break the drums o' his ears? I always thought +Peter Bradley was not exactly what he ought to be, and now I am sure on +it." + +"For my part, I think, Neighbor Burtenshaw," returned the other, "that +this great burst of weather's all of his raising, for in all my born +days I never see'd such a hurly-burly, and hope never to see the like of +it again. I've heard my grandfather tell of folk as could command wind +and rain; and, mayhap, Peter may have the power--we all know he can do +more nor any other man." + +"We know, at all events," replied Burtenshaw, "that he lives like no +other man; that he spends night after night by himself in that dreary +churchyard; that he keeps no living thing, except an old terrier dog, in +his crazy cottage; and that he never asks a body into his house from one +year's end to another. I've never crossed his threshold these twenty +years. But," continued he mysteriously, "I happened to pass the house +one dark, dismal night, and there what dost think I see'd through the +window?" + +"What--what didst see?" + +"Peter Bradley sitting with a great book open on his knees; it were a +Bible, I think, and he crying like a child." + +"Art sure o' that?" + +"The tears were falling fast upon the leaves," returned Burtenshaw; "but +when I knocked at the door, he hastily shut up the book, and ordered me +to be gone, in a surly tone, as if he were ashamed of being caught in +the fact." + +"I thought no tear had ever dropped from his eye," said the other. "Why, +he laughed when his daughter Susan went off at the hall; and, when she +died, folks said he received hush-money to say nought about it. _That_ +were a bad business, anyhow; and now that his grandson Luke be taken in +the fact of housebreaking, he minds it no more, not he, than if nothing +had happened." + +"Don't be too sure of that," replied Burtenshaw; "he may be scheming +summat all this time. Well, I've known Peter Bradley now these +two-and-fifty years, and, excepting that one night, I never saw any good +about him, and never heard of nobody who could tell who he be, or where +he do come from." + +"One thing's certain, at least," replied the other farmer--"he were +never born at Rookwood. How he came here the devil only knows. Save us! +what a crash!--this storm be all of his raising, I tell 'ee." + +"He be--what he certainly will be," interposed another speaker, in a +louder tone, and with less of apprehension in his manner than his +comrade, probably from his nerves being better fortified with strong +liquor. "Dost thou think, Samuel Plant, as how Providence would entrust +the like o' him with the command of the elements? No--no, it's rank +blasphemy to suppose such a thing, and I've too much of the true +Catholic and apostate church about me, to stand by and hear that said." + +"Maybe, then, he gets his power from the Prince of Darkness," replied +Plant; "no man else could go on as he does--only look at him. He seems +to be watching for the thunderbowt." + +"I wish he may catch it, then," returned the other. + +"That's an evil wish, Simon Toft, and thou mayst repent it." + +"Not I," replied Toft; "it would be a good clearance to the neighborhood +to get rid o' th' old croaking curmudgeon." + +Whether or not Peter overheard the conversation, we pretend not to say, +but at that moment a blaze of lightning showed him staring fiercely at +the group. + +"As I live, he's overheard you, Simon," exclaimed Plant. "I wouldn't be +in your skin for a trifle." + +"Nor I," added Burtenshaw. + +"Let him overhear me," answered Toft; "who cares? he shall hear summat +worth listening to. I'm not afraid o' him or his arts, were they as +black as Beelzebuth's own; and to show you I'm not, I'll go and have a +crack with him on the spot." + +"Thou'rt a fool for thy pains, if thou dost, Friend Toft," returned +Plant, "that's all I can say." + +"Be advised by me, and stay here," seconded Burtenshaw, endeavoring to +hold him back. + +But Toft would not be advised-- + + Kings may be blest, but he was glorious, + O'er all the ills of life victorious. + +Staggering up to Peter, he laid a hard grasp upon his shoulder, and, +thus forcibly soliciting his attention, burst into a loud horse-laugh. + +But Peter was, or affected to be, too much occupied to look at him. + +"What dost see, man, that thou starest so?" + +"It comes, it comes--the rain--the rain--a torrent--a deluge--ha, ha! +Blessed is the corpse the rain rains on. Sir Piers may be drenched +through his leaden covering by such a downfall as that--splash, +splash--fire and water and thunder, all together--is not that fine?--ha, +ha! The heavens will weep for him, though friends shed not a tear. When +did a great man's heir feel sympathy for his sire's decease? When did +his widow mourn? When doth any man regret his fellow? Never! He +rejoiceth--he maketh glad in his inmost heart--he cannot help it--it is +nature. We all pray for--we all delight in each other's destruction. We +were created to do so; or why else should we act thus? I never wept for +any man's death, but I have often laughed. Natural sympathy!--out on the +phrase! The distant heavens--the senseless trees--the impenetrable +stones--shall regret you more than man shall bewail your death with more +sincerity. Ay, 'tis well--rain on--splash, splash: it will cool the +hell-fever. Down, down--buckets and pails, ha, ha!" + +There was a pause, during which the sexton, almost exhausted by the +frenzy in which he had suffered himself to be involved, seemed +insensible to all around him. + +"I tell you what," said Burtenshaw to Plant, "I have always thought +there was more in Peter Bradley nor appears on the outside. He is not +what he seems to be, take my word on it. Lord love you! do you think a +man such as he pretends to be could talk in that sort of way--about +nat'ral simpering?--no such thing." + +When Peter recovered, his insane merriment broke out afresh, having only +acquired fury by the pause. + +"Look out, look out!" cried he; "hark to the thunder--list to the rain! +Marked ye that flash--marked ye the clock-house--and the bird upon the +roof? 'tis the rook--the great bird of the house, that hath borne away +the soul of the departed. There, there--can you not see it? it sits and +croaks through storm and rain, and never heeds at all--and wherefore +should it heed? See, it flaps its broad black wings--it croaks--ha, ha! +It comes--it comes." + +And driven, it might be by the terror of the storm, from more secure +quarters, a bird, at this instant, was dashed against the window, and +fell to the ground. + +"That's a call," continued Peter; "it will be over soon, and we must set +out. The dead will not need to tarry. Look at that trail of fire along +the avenue; dost see yon line of sparkles, like a rocket's tail? That's +the path the corpse will take. St. Hermes's flickering fire, Robin +Goodfellow's dancing light, or the blue flame of the corpse-candle, +which I saw flitting to the churchyard last week, was not so pretty a +sight--ha, ha! You asked me for a song a moment ago--you shall have one +now without asking." + +And without waiting to consult the inclinations of his comrades, Peter +broke into the following wild strain with all the fervor of a +half-crazed improvisatore: + + THE CORPSE-CANDLE + + Lambere flamma {taphos} et circum funera pasci. + + Through the midnight gloom did a pale blue light + To the churchyard mirk wing its lonesome flight:-- + Thrice it floated those old walls round-- + Thrice it paused--till the grave it found. + Over the grass-green sod it glanced, + Over the fresh-turned earth it danced, + Like a torch in the night-breeze quivering-- + Never was seen so gay a thing! + Never was seen so blithe a sight + As the midnight dance of that blue light! + + Now what of that pale blue flame dost know? + Canst tell where it comes from, or where it will go? + Is it the soul, released from clay, + Over the earth that takes its way, + And tarries a moment in mirth and glee + Where the corse it hath quitted interred shall be? + Or is it the trick of some fanciful sprite, + That taketh in mortal mischance delight, + And marketh the road the coffin shall go, + And the spot where the dead shall be soon laid low? + Ask him who can answer these questions aright; + I know not the cause of that pale blue light! + +"I can't say I like thy song, Master Peter," said Toft, as the sexton +finished his stave, "but if thou _didst_ see a corpse-candle, as thou +call'st thy pale blue flame, whose death doth it betoken?--eh!" + +"Thine own," returned Peter, sharply. + +"Mine! thou lying old cheat--dost dare to say that to my face? Why, I'm +as hale and hearty as ever a man in the house. Dost think there's no +life and vigor in this arm, thou drivelling old dotard?" + +Upon which, Toft seized Peter by the throat with an energy that, but for +the timely intervention of the company, who rushed to his assistance, +the prophet might himself have anticipated the doom he prognosticated. + +Released from the grasp of Toft, who was held back by the bystanders, +Peter again broke forth into his eldritch laugh; and staring right into +the face of his adversary, with eyes glistening, and hands uplifted, as +if in the act of calling down an imprecation on his head, he screamed, +in a shrill and discordant voice, "Soh! you will not take my warning? +you revile me--you flout me! 'Tis well! your fate shall prove a warning +to all unbelievers--_they_ shall remember this night, though _you_ will +not. Fool! fool!--your doom has long been sealed! I saw your wraith +choose out its last lodgment on Halloween; I know the spot. Your grave +is dug already--ha, ha!" And, with renewed laughter, Peter rushed out of +the room. + +"Did I not caution thee not to provoke him, friend Toft?" said Plant; +"it's ill playing with edge-tools; but don't let him fly off in that +tantrum--one of ye go after him." + +"That will I," replied Burtenshaw; and he departed in search of the +sexton. + +"I'd advise thee to make it up with Peter so soon as thou canst, +neighbor," continued Plant; "he's a bad friend, but a worse enemy." + +"Why, what harm can he do me?" returned Toft, who, however, was not +without some misgivings. "If I must die, I can't help it--I shall go +none the sooner for him, even if he speak the truth, which I don't think +he do; and if I must, I sha'n't go unprepared--only I think as how, if +it pleased Providence, I could have wished to keep my old missus company +some few years longer, and see those bits of lasses of mine grow up +into women, and respectably provided for. But His will be done. I +sha'n't leave 'em quite penniless, and there's one eye at least, I'm +sure, won't be dry at my departure." Here the stout heart of Toft gave +way, and he shed some few "natural tears," which, however, he speedily +brushed away. "I'll tell you what, neighbors," continued he, "I think we +may all as well be thinking of going to our own homes, for, to my mind, +we shall never reach the churchyard to-night." + +"That _you_ never will," exclaimed a voice behind him; and Toft, turning +round, again met the glance of Peter. + +"Come, come, Master Peter," cried the good-natured farmer, "this be ugly +jesting--ax pardon for my share of it--sorry for what I did--so give us +thy hand, man, and think no more about it." + +Peter extended his claw, and the parties were, apparently, once more +upon terms of friendship. + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_THE FUNERAL ORATION_ + + In northern customs duty was exprest + To friends departed by their funeral feast; + Though I've consulted Hollingshed and Stow, + I find it very difficult to know, + Who, to refresh the attendants to the grave, + Burnt claret first, or Naples' biscuit gave. + + KING: _Art of Cookery_. + + Ceterum priusquam corpus humo injecta contegatur, defunctus oratione + funebri laudabatur.--DURAND. + + +A supply of spirits was here introduced; lights were brought at the same +time, and placed upon a long oak table. The party gathering round it, +ill-humor was speedily dissipated, and even the storm disregarded, in +the copious libations that ensued. At this juncture, a loiterer appeared +in the hall. His movements were unnoticed by all excepting the sexton, +who watched his proceedings with some curiosity. The person walked to +the window, appearing, so far as could be discovered, to eye the storm +with great impatience. He then paced the hall rapidly backwards and +forwards, and Peter fancied he could detect sounds of disappointment in +his muttered exclamations. Again he returned to the window, as if to +ascertain the probable duration of the shower. It was a hopeless +endeavor; all was pitch-dark without; the lightning was now only seen at +long intervals, but the rain still audibly descended in torrents. +Apparently seeing the impossibility of controlling the elements, the +person approached the table. + +"What think you of the night, Mr. Palmer?" asked the sexton of Jack, for +he was the anxious investigator of the weather. + +"Don't know--can't say--set in, I think--cursed unlucky--for the +funeral, I mean--we shall be drowned if we go." + +"And drunk if we stay," rejoined Peter. "But never fear, it will hold +up, depend upon it, long before we can start. Where have they put the +prisoner?" asked he, with a sudden change of manner. + +"I know the room, but can't describe it; it's two or three doors down +the lower corridor of the eastern gallery." + +"Good. Who are on guard?" + +"Titus Tyrconnel and that swivel-eyed quill-driver, Coates." + +"Enough." + +"Come, come, Master Peter," roared Toft, "let's have another stave. Give +us one of your odd snatches. No more corpse-candles, or that sort of +thing. Something lively--something jolly--ha, ha!" + +"A good move," shouted Jack. "A lively song from _you_--lillibullero +from a death's-head--ha, ha!" + +"My songs are all of a sort," returned Peter; "I am seldom asked to +sing a second time. However, you are welcome to the merriest I have." +And preparing himself, like certain other accomplished vocalists, with a +few preliminary hems and haws, he struck forth the following doleful +ditty: + + THE OLD OAK COFFIN + + Sic ego componi versus in ossa velim.--TIBULLUS. + + In a churchyard, upon the sward, a coffin there was laid, + And leaning stood, beside the wood, a sexton on his spade. + A coffin old and black it was, and fashioned curiously, + With quaint device of carved oak, in hideous fantasie. + + For here was wrought the sculptured thought of a tormented face, + With serpents lithe that round it writhe, in folded strict embrace. + Grim visages of grinning fiends were at each corner set, + And emblematic scrolls, mort-heads, and bones together met. + + "Ah, welladay!" that sexton gray unto himself did cry, + "Beneath that lid much lieth hid--much awful mysterie. + It is an ancient coffin from the abbey that stood here; + Perchance it holds an abbot's bones, perchance those of a frere. + + "In digging deep, where monks do sleep, beneath yon cloister shrined, + That coffin old, within the mould, it was my chance to find; + The costly carvings of the lid I scraped full carefully, + In hope to get at name or date, yet nothing could I see. + + "With pick and spade I've plied my trade for sixty years and more, + Yet never found, beneath the ground, shell strange as that before; + Full many coffins have I seen--have seen them deep or flat, + Fantastical in fashion--none fantastical as that." + + And saying so, with heavy blow, the lid he shattered wide, + And, pale with fright, a ghastly sight that sexton gray espied; + A miserable sight it was, that loathsome corpse to see, + The last, last, dreary, darksome stage of fall'n humanity. + + Though all was gone, save reeky bone, a green and grisly heap, + With scarce a trace of fleshly face, strange posture did it keep. + The hands were clenched, the teeth were wrenched, as if the wretch + had risen, + E'en after death had ta'en his breath, to strive and burst his prison. + + The neck was bent, the nails were rent, no limb or joint was straight; + Together glued, with blood imbued, black and coagulate. + And, as the sexton stooped him down to lift the coffin plank, + His fingers were defiled all o'er with slimy substance dank. + + "Ah, welladay!" that sexton gray unto himself did cry, + "Full well I see how Fate's decree foredoomed this wretch to die; + A living man, a breathing man, within the coffin thrust, + Alack! alack! the agony ere he returned to dust!" + + A vision drear did then appear unto that sexton's eyes; + Like that poor wight before him straight he in a coffin lies. + He lieth in a trance within that coffin close and fast; + Yet though he sleepeth now, he feels he shall awake at last. + + The coffin, then, by reverend men, is borne with footsteps slow, + Where tapers shine before the shrine, where breathes the requiem low; + And for the dead the prayer is said, for the soul that is _not_ flown-- + Then all is drowned in hollow sound, the earth is o'er him thrown! + + He draweth breath--he wakes from death to life more horrible; + To agony! such agony! no living tongue may tell. + Die! die he must, that wretched one! he struggles--strives in vain; + No more Heaven's light, nor sunshine bright, shall he behold again. + + "Gramercy, Lord!" the sexton roared, awakening suddenly, + "If this be dream, yet doth it seem most dreadful so to die. + Oh, cast my body in the sea! or hurl it on the shore! + But nail me not in coffin fast--no grave will I dig more." + +It was not difficult to discover the effect produced by this song, in +the lengthened faces of the greater part of the audience. Jack Palmer, +however, laughed loud and long. + +"Bravo, bravo!" cried he; "that suits my humor exactly. I can't abide +the thoughts of a coffin. No deal box for me." + +"A gibbet might, perhaps, serve your turn as well," muttered the sexton; +adding aloud, "I am now entitled to call upon you;--a song!--a song!" + +"Ay, a song, Mr. Palmer, a song!" reiterated the hinds. "Yours will be +the right kind of thing." + +"Say no more," replied Jack. "I'll give you a chant composed upon Dick +Turpin, the highwayman. It's no great shakes, to be sure, but it's the +best I have." And, with a knowing wink at the sexton, he commenced, in +the true nasal whine, the following strain: + + ONE FOOT IN THE STIRRUP + + OR TURPIN'S FIRST FLING + + Cum esset proposita fuga _Turpi_(n)_s_.--CICERO. + + "One foot in the stirrup, one hand in the rein, + And the noose be my portion, or freedom I'll gain! + Oh! give me a seat in my saddle once more, + And these bloodhounds shall find that the chase is not o'er!" + Thus muttered Dick Turpin, who found, while he slept, + That the Philistines old on his slumbers had crept; + Had entrapped him as puss on her form you'd ensnare, + And that gone were his snappers--and gone was his mare. + _Hilloah!_ + + How Dick had been captured is readily told, + The pursuit had been hot, though the night had been cold, + So at daybreak, exhausted, he sought brief repose + Mid the thick of a corn-field, away from his foes. + But in vain was his caution--in vain did his steed, + Ever watchful and wakeful in moments of need, + With lip and with hoof on her master's cheek press-- + He slept on, nor heeded the warning of Bess. + _Hilloah!_ + + "Zounds! gem'men!" cried Turpin, "you've found me at fault, + And the highflying highwayman's come to a halt; + You have turned up a trump--for I weigh well my weight,-- + And the _forty is yours_, though the halter's _my_ fate. + Well, come on't what will, you shall own when all's past, + That Dick Turpin, the Dauntless, was game to the last. + But, before we go further, I'll hold you a bet, + That one foot in my stirrup you won't let me set. + _Hilloah!_ + + "A hundred to one is the odds _I_ will stand, + A hundred to one is the odds _you_ command; + Here's a handful of goldfinches ready to fly! + May I venture a foot in my stirrup to try?" + As he carelessly spoke, Dick directed a glance + At his courser, and motioned her slyly askance:-- + You might tell by the singular toss of her head, + And the prick of her ears, that his meaning she read. + _Hilloah!_ + + With derision at first was Dick's wager received, + And his error at starting as yet unretrieved; + But when from his pocket the shiners he drew, + And offered to "make up the hundred to two," + There were havers in plenty, and each whispered each, + The same thing, though varied in figure of speech, + "Let the fool act his folly--the stirrup of Bess! + He has put his foot _in it_ already, we guess!" + _Hilloah!_ + + Bess was brought to her master--Dick steadfastly gazed + At the eye of his mare, then his foot quick upraised; + His toe touched the stirrup, his hand grasped the rein-- + He was safe on the back of his courser again! + As the clarion, fray-sounding and shrill, was the neigh + Of Black Bess, as she answered his cry "Hark-away!" + "Beset me, ye bloodhounds! in rear and in van; + My foot's in the stirrup and catch me who can!" + _Hilloah!_ + + There was riding and gibing mid rabble and rout, + And the old woods re-echoed the Philistines' shout! + There was hurling and whirling o'er brake and o'er brier, + But the course of Dick Turpin was swift as Heaven's fire. + Whipping, spurring, and straining would nothing avail, + Dick laughed at their curses, and scoffed at their wail; + "My foot's in the stirrup!"--thus rang his last cry; + "Bess has answered my call; now her mettle we'll try!" + _Hilloah!_ + +Uproarious applause followed Jack's song, when the joviality of the +mourners was interrupted by a summons to attend in the state-room. +Silence was at once completely restored; and, in the best order they +could assume, they followed their leader, Peter Bradley. Jack Palmer +was amongst the last to enter, and remained a not incurious spectator of +a by no means common scene. + +Preparations had been made to give due solemnity to the ceremonial. The +leaden coffin was fastened down, and enclosed in an outer case of oak, +upon the lid of which stood a richly-chased massive silver flagon, +filled with burnt claret, called the grace-cup. All the lights were +removed, save two lofty wax flambeaux, which were placed to the back, +and threw a lurid glare upon the group immediately about the body, +consisting of Ranulph Rookwood and some other friends of the deceased. +Dr. Small stood in front of the bier; and, under the directions of Peter +Bradley, the tenantry and household were formed into a wide half-moon +across the chamber. There was a hush of expectation, as Dr. Small looked +gravely round; and even Jack Palmer, who was as little likely as any man +to yield to an impression of the kind, felt himself moved by the scene. + +The very orthodox Small, as is well known to our readers, held +everything savoring of the superstitions of the Scarlet Woman in supreme +abomination; and, entertaining such opinions, it can scarcely be +supposed that a funeral oration would find much favor in his eyes, +accompanied, as it was, with the accessories of censer, candle, and cup; +all evidently derived from that period when, under the three-crowned +pontiff's sway, the shaven priest pronounced his benediction o'er the +dead, and released the penitent's soul from purgatorial flames, while he +heavily mulcted the price of his redemption from the possessions of his +successor. Small resented the idea of treading in such steps, as an +insult to himself and his cloth. Was he, the intolerant of Papistry, to +tolerate this? Was he, who could not endure the odor of Catholicism, to +have his nostrils thus polluted--his garments thus defiled by actual +contact with it? It was not to be thought of: and he had formally +signified his declination to Mr. Coates, when a little conversation with +that gentleman, and certain weighty considerations therein held +forth--the advowson of the church of Rookwood residing with the +family--and represented by him, as well as the placing in juxtaposition +of penalties to be incurred by refusal, that the scruples of Small gave +way; and, with the best grace he could muster, very reluctantly promised +compliance. + +With these feelings, it will be readily conceived that the doctor was +not in the best possible frame of mind for the delivery of his +exhortation. His spirit had been ruffled by a variety of petty +annoyances, amongst the greatest of which was the condition to which the +good cheer had reduced his clerk, Zachariah Trundletext, whose reeling +eye, pendulous position, and open mouth proclaimed him absolutely +incapable of office. Zachariah was, in consequence, dismissed, and Small +commenced his discourse unsupported. But as our recording it would not +probably conduce to the amusement of our readers, whatever it might to +their edification, we shall pass it over with very brief mention. +Suffice it to say, that the oration was so thickly interstrewn with +lengthy quotations from the fathers,--Chrysostomus, Hieronymus, +Ambrosius, Basilius, Bernardus, and the rest, with whose recondite +Latinity, notwithstanding the clashing of their opinions with his own, +the doctor was intimately acquainted, and which he moreover delighted to +quote,--that his auditors were absolutely mystified and perplexed, and +probably not without design. Countenances of such amazement were turned +towards him, that Small, who had a keen sense of the ludicrous, could +scarcely forbear smiling as he proceeded; and if we could suspect so +grave a personage of waggery, we should almost think that, by way of +retaliation, he had palmed some abstruse, monkish epicedium upon his +astounded auditors. + +The oration concluded, biscuits and confectionery were, according to old +observance, handed to such of the tenantry as chose to partake of them. +The serving of the grace-cup, which ought to have formed part of the +duties of Zachariah, had he been capable of office, fell to the share +of the sexton. The bowl was kissed, first by Ranulph, with lips that +trembled with emotion, and afterward by his surrounding friends; but no +drop was tasted--a circumstance which did not escape Peter's +observation. Proceeding to the tenantry, the first in order happened to +be Farmer Toft. Peter presented the cup, and as Toft was about to drain +a deep draught of the wine, Peter whispered in his ear, "Take my advice +for once, Friend Toft, and don't let a bubble of the liquid pass your +lips. For every drop of the wine you drain, Sir Piers will have one sin +the less, and you a load the heavier on your conscience. Didst never +hear of sin-swallowing? For what else was this custom adopted? Seest +thou not the cup's brim hath not yet been moistened? Well, as you +will--ha, ha!" And the sexton passed onwards. + +His work being nearly completed, he looked around for Jack Palmer, whom +he had remarked during the oration, but could nowhere discover him. +Peter was about to place the flagon, now almost drained of its contents, +upon its former resting-place, when Small took it from his hands. + +"_In poculi fundo residuum non relinque_, admonisheth Pythagoras," said +he, returning the empty cup to the sexton. + +"My task here is ended," muttered Peter, "but not elsewhere. Foul +weather or fine, thunder or rain, I must to the church." + +Bequeathing his final instructions to certain of the household who were +to form part of the procession, in case it set out, he opened the hall +door, and, the pelting shower dashing heavily in his face, took his way +up the avenue, screaming, as he strode along, the following congenial +rhymes: + + EPHIALTES + + I ride alone--I ride by night + Through the moonless air on a courser white! + Over the dreaming earth I fly, + Here and there--at my fantasy! + My frame is withered, my visage old, + My locks are frore, and my bones ice cold. + The wolf will howl as I pass his lair, + The ban-dog moan, and the screech-owl stare. + For breath, at my coming, the sleeper strains, + And the freezing current forsakes his veins! + Vainly for pity the wretch may sue-- + Merciless Mara no prayers subdue! + _To his couch I flit-- + On his breast I sit! + Astride! astride! astride! + And one charm alone + --A hollow stone!--[23] + Can scare me from his side!_ + + A thousand antic shapes I take; + The stoutest heart at my touch will quake. + The miser dreams of a bag of gold, + Or a ponderous chest on his bosom rolled. + The drunkard groans 'neath a cask of wine; + The reveller swelts 'neath a weighty chine. + The recreant turns, by his foes assailed, + To flee!--but his feet to the ground are nailed. + The goatherd dreams of his mountain-tops, + And, dizzily reeling, downward drops. + + The murderer feels at his throat a knife, + And gasps, as his victim gasped, for life! + The thief recoils from the scorching brand; + The mariner drowns in sight of land! + Thus sinful man have I power to fray, + Torture, and rack, but not to slay! + But ever the couch of purity, + With shuddering glance, I hurry by. + _Then mount! away! + To horse! I say, + To horse! astride! astride! + The fire-drake shoots-- + The screech-owl hoots-- + As through the air I glide!_ + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_THE CHURCHYARD_ + + Methought I walked, about the mid of night, + Into a churchyard. + + WEBSTER: _The White Devil_. + + +Lights streamed through the chancel window as the sexton entered the +churchyard, darkly defining all the ramified tracery of the noble Gothic +arch, and illumining the gorgeous dyes of its richly-stained glass, +profusely decorated with the armorial bearings of the founder of the +fane, and the many alliances of his descendants. The sheen of their +blazonry gleamed bright in the darkness, as if to herald to his last +home another of the line whose achievements it displayed. Glowing +colorings, checkered like rainbow tints, were shed upon the broken +leaves of the adjoining yew-trees, and upon the rounded grassy tombs. + +Opening the gate, as he looked in that direction, Peter became aware of +a dark figure, enveloped in a large black cloak, and covered with a +slouched hat, standing at some distance, between the window and the +tree, and so intervening as to receive the full influence of the stream +of radiance which served to dilate its almost superhuman stature. The +sexton stopped. The figure remained stationary. There was something +singular both in the costume and situation of the person. Peter's +curiosity was speedily aroused, and, familiar with every inch of the +churchyard, he determined to take the nearest cut, and to ascertain to +whom the mysterious cloak and hat belonged. Making his way over the +undulating graves, and instinctively rounding the headstones that +intercepted his path, he quickly drew near the object of his inquiry. +From the moveless posture it maintained, the figure appeared to be +unconscious of Peter's approach. To his eyes it seemed to expand as he +advanced. He was now almost close upon it, when his progress was +arrested by a violent grasp laid on his shoulder. He started, and +uttered an exclamation of alarm. At this moment a vivid flash of +lightning illumined the whole churchyard, and Peter then thought he +beheld, at some distance from him, two other figures, bearing upon their +shoulders a huge chest, or, it might be, a coffin. The garb of these +figures, so far as it could be discerned through the drenching rain, was +fantastical in the extreme. The foremost seemed to have a long white +beard descending to his girdle. Little leisure, however, was allowed +Peter for observation. The vision no sooner met his glance than it +disappeared, and nothing was seen but the glimmering tombstones--nothing +heard but the whistling wind and the heavily-descending shower. He +rubbed his eyes. The muffled figure had vanished, and not a trace could +be discovered of the mysterious coffin-bearers, if such they were. + +"What have I seen?" mentally ejaculated Peter: "is this sorcery or +treachery, or both? No body-snatchers would visit this place on a night +like this, when the whole neighborhood is aroused. Can it be a vision I +have seen? Pshaw! shall I juggle myself as I deceive these hinds? It was +no bearded demon that I beheld, but the gipsy patrico, Balthazar. I knew +him at once. But what meant that muffled figure; and whose arm could it +have been that griped my shoulder? Ha! what if Lady Rookwood should have +given orders for the removal of Susan's body? No, no; that cannot be. +Besides, I have the keys of the vault; and there are hundreds now in the +church who would permit no such desecration. I am perplexed to think +what it can mean. But I will to the vault." Saying which, he hastened to +the church porch, and after wringing the wet from his clothes, as a +water-dog might shake the moisture from his curly hide, and doffing his +broad felt hat, he entered the holy edifice. The interior seemed one +blaze of light to the sexton, in his sudden transition from outer +darkness. Some few persons were assembled, probably such as were engaged +in the preparations; but there was one group which immediately caught +his attention. + +Near the communion-table stood three persons, habited in deep mourning, +apparently occupied in examining the various monumental carvings that +enriched the walls. Peter's office led him to that part of the church. +About to descend into the vaults, to make the last preparations for the +reception of the dead, with lantern in hand, keys, and a crowbar, he +approached the party. Little attention was paid to the sexton's +proceedings, till the harsh grating of the lock attracted their notice. + +Peter started as he beheld the face of one of the three, and relaxing +his hold upon the key, the strong bolt shot back in the lock. There was +a whisper amongst the party. A light step was heard advancing towards +him; and ere the sexton could sufficiently recover his surprise, or +force open the door, a female figure stood by his side. + +The keen, inquiring stare which Peter bestowed upon the countenance of +the young lady so much abashed her, that she hesitated in her purpose of +addressing him, and hastily retired. + +"She here!" muttered Peter; "nay, then, I must no longer withhold the +dreaded secret from Luke, or Ranulph may, indeed, wrest his possessions +from him." + +Reinforced by her companions, an elderly lady and a tall, handsome man, +whose bearing and deportment bespoke him to be a soldier, the fair +stranger again ventured towards Peter. + +"You are the sexton," said she, addressing him in a voice sweet and +musical. + +"I am," returned Peter. It was harmony succeeded by dissonance. + +"You, perhaps, can tell us, then," said the elderly lady, "whether the +funeral is likely to take place to-night? We thought it possible that +the storm might altogether prevent it." + +"The storm is over, as nearly as maybe," replied Peter. "The body will +soon be on its way. I am but now arrived from the hall." + +"Indeed!" exclaimed the lady. "None of the family will be present, I +suppose. Who is the chief mourner?" + +"Young Sir Ranulph," answered the sexton. "There will be more of the +family than were expected." + +"Is Sir Ranulph returned?" asked the young lady, with great agitation of +manner. "I thought he was abroad--that he was not expected. Are you sure +you are rightly informed?" + +"I parted with him at the hall not ten minutes since," replied Peter. +"He returned from France to-night most unexpectedly." + +"Oh, mother!" exclaimed the younger lady, "that this should be--that I +should meet him here. Why did we come?--let us depart." + +"Impossible!" replied her mother; "the storm forbids it. This man's +information is so strange, I scarce can credit it. Are you sure you have +asserted the truth?" said she, addressing Peter. + +"I am not accustomed to be doubted," answered he. "Other things as +strange have happened at the hall." + +"What mean you?" asked the gentleman, noticing this last remark. + +"You would not need to ask the question of me, had you been there, +amongst the other guests," retorted Peter. "Odd things, I tell you, have +been done there this night, and stranger things may occur before the +morning." + +"You are insolent, sirrah! I comprehend you not." + +"Enough! I can comprehend _you_," replied Peter, significantly; "I know +the count of the mourners invited to this ceremonial, and I am aware +that there are three too many." + +"Know you this saucy knave, mother?" + +"I cannot call him to mind, though I fancy I have seen him before." + +"My recollection serves me better, lady," interposed Peter. "I remember +one who was once the proud heiress of Rookwood--ay, proud and beautiful. +Then the house was filled with her gallant suitors. Swords were crossed +for her. Hearts bled for her. Yet she favored none, until one hapless +hour. Sir Reginald Rookwood _had_ a daughter; Sir Reginald _lost_ a +daughter. Ha!--I see I am right. Well, he is dead and buried; and +Reginald, his son, is dead likewise; and Piers is on his road hither; +and you are the last, as in the course of nature you might have been the +first. And, now that they are all gone, you do rightly to bury your +grievances with them." + +"Silence, sirrah!" exclaimed the gentleman, "or I will beat your brains +out with your own spade." + +"No; let him speak, Vavasour," said the lady, with an expression of +anguish--"he has awakened thoughts of other days." + +"I have done," said Peter, "and must to work. Will you descend with me, +madam, into the sepulchre of your ancestry? All your family lie +within--ay, and the Lady Eleanor, your mother, amongst the number." + +Mrs. Mowbray signified her assent, and the party prepared to follow him. + +The sexton held the lantern so as to throw its light upon the steps as +they entered the gloomy receptacle of the departed. Eleanor half +repented having ventured within its dreary limits, so much did the +appearance of the yawning catacombs, surcharged with mortality, and, +above all, the ghostly figure of the grim knight, affect her with dread, +as she looked wistfully around. She required all the support her +brother's arm could afford her; nor was Mrs. Mowbray altogether unmoved. + +"And all the family are here interred, you say?" inquired the latter. + +"All," replied the sexton. + +"Where, then, lies Sir Reginald's younger brother?" + +"Who?" exclaimed Peter, starting. + +"Alan Rookwood." + +"What of him?" + +"Nothing of moment. But I thought you could, perhaps, inform me. He died +young." + +"He did," replied Peter, in an altered tone--"very young; but not before +he had lived to an old age of wretchedness. Do you know his story, +madam?" + +"I have heard it." + +"From your father's lips?" + +"From Sir Reginald Rookwood's--never. Call him not my father, sirrah; +even _here_ I will not have him named so to me." + +"Your pardon, madam," returned the sexton. "Great cruelty was shown to +the Lady Eleanor, and may well call forth implacable resentment in her +child; yet methinks the wrong he did his brother Alan was the foulest +stain with which Sir Reginald's black soul was dyed." + +"With what particular wrong dost thou charge Sir Reginald?" demanded +Major Mowbray. "What injury did he inflict upon his brother Alan?" + +"He wronged his brother's honor," replied the sexton; "he robbed him of +his wife, poisoned his existence, and hurried him to an untimely grave." + +Eleanor shudderingly held back during this horrible narration, the +hearing of which she would willingly have shunned, had it been possible. + +"Can this be true?" asked the major. + +"Too true, my son," replied Mrs. Mowbray, sorrowfully. + +"And where lies the unfortunate Alan?" asked Major Mowbray. + +"'Twixt two cross roads. Where else should the suicide lie?" + +Evading any further question, Peter hastily traversed the vault, +elevating the light so as to reveal the contents of each cell. One +circumstance filled him with surprise and dismay--he could nowhere +perceive the coffin of his daughter. In vain he peered into every +catacomb--they were apparently undisturbed; and, with much internal +marvelling and misgiving, Peter gave up the search. "That vision is now +explained," muttered he; "the body is removed, but by whom? Death! can I +doubt? It must be Lady Rookwood--who else can have any interest in its +removal. She has acted boldly. But she shall yet have reason to repent +her temerity." As he continued his search, his companions silently +followed. Suddenly he stopped, and, signifying that all was finished, +they not unwillingly quitted this abode of horror, leaving him behind +them. + +"It is a dreadful place," whispered Eleanor to her mother; "nor would I +have visited it, had I conceived anything of its horrors. And that +strange man! who or what is he?" + +"Ay, who is he?" repeated Major Mowbray. + +"I recollect him now," replied Mrs. Mowbray; "he is one who has ever +been connected with the family. He had a daughter, whose beauty was her +ruin: it is a sad tale; I cannot tell it now: you have heard enough of +misery and guilt: but that may account for his bitterness of speech. He +was a dependent upon my poor brother." + +"Poor man!" replied Eleanor; "if he has been unfortunate, I pity him. I +am sorry we have been into that dreadful place. I am very faint: and I +tremble more than ever at the thought of meeting Ranulph Rookwood again. +I can scarcely support myself--I am sure I shall not venture to look +upon him." + +"Had I dreamed of the likelihood of his attending the ceremony, rest +assured, dear Eleanor, we should not have been here: but I was informed +there was no possibility of his return. Compose yourself, my child. It +will be a trying time to both of us; but it is now inevitable." + +At this moment the bell began to toll. "The procession has started," +said Peter, as he passed the Mowbrays. "That bell announces the setting +out." + +"See yonder persons hurrying to the door," exclaimed Eleanor, with +eagerness, and trembling violently. "They are coming. Oh! I shall never +be able to go through with it, dear mother." + +Peter hastened to the church door, where he stationed himself, in +company with a host of others, equally curious. Flickering lights in the +distance, shining like stars through the trees, showed them that the +procession was collecting in front of the hall. The rain had now +entirely ceased; the thunder muttered from afar, and the lightning +seemed only to lick the moisture from the trees. The bell continued to +toll, and its loud booming awoke the drowsy echoes of the valley. On the +sudden, a solitary, startling concussion of thunder was heard; and +presently a man rushed down from the belfry, with the tidings that he +had seen a ball of fire fall from a cloud right over the hall. Every ear +was on the alert for the next sound; none was heard. It was the crisis +of the storm. Still the funeral procession advanced not. The strong +sheen of the torchlight was still visible from the bottom of the avenue, +now disappearing, now brightly glimmering, as if the bearers were +hurrying to and fro amongst the trees. It was evident that much +confusion prevailed, and that some misadventure had occurred. Each man +muttered to his neighbor, and few were there who had not in a measure +surmised the cause of the delay. At this juncture, a person without his +hat, breathless with haste and almost palsied with fright, rushed +through the midst of them and, stumbling over the threshold, fell +headlong into the church. + +"What's the matter, Master Plant? What has happened? Tell us! Tell us!" +exclaimed several voices simultaneously. + +"Lord have mercy upon us!" cried Plant, gasping for utterance, and not +attempting to raise himself. "It's horrible! dreadful! oh!--oh!" + +"What has happened?" inquired Peter, approaching the fallen man. + +"And dost _thou_ need to ask, Peter Bradley? thou, who foretold it all? +but I will not say what I think, though my tongue itches to tell thee +the truth. Be satisfied, thy wizard's lore has served thee right--he is +dead." + +"Who? Ranulph Rookwood? Has anything befallen him, or the prisoner, Luke +Bradley?" asked the sexton, with eagerness. + +A scream here burst forth from one who was standing behind the group; +and, in spite of the efforts of her mother to withhold her, Eleanor +Mowbray rushed forward. + +"Has aught happened to Sir Ranulph?" asked she. + +"Noa--noa--not to Sir Ranulph--he be with the body." + +"Heaven be thanked for that!" exclaimed Eleanor. And then, as if ashamed +of her own vehemence, and, it might seem, apparent indifference to +another's fate, she inquired who was hurt. + +"It be poor neighbor Toft, that be killed by a thunderbolt, ma'am," +replied Plant. + +Exclamations of horror burst from all around. + +No one was more surprised at this intelligence than the sexton. Like +many other seers, he had not, in all probability, calculated upon the +fulfilment of his predictions, and he now stared aghast at the extent of +his own foreknowledge. + +"I tell 'ee what, Master Peter," said Plant, shaking his bullet-head, +"it be well for thee thou didn't live in my grandfather's time, or +thou'dst ha' been ducked in a blanket; or may be burnt at the stake, +like Ridley and Latimer, as we read on--but however that may be, ye +shall hear how poor Toft's death came to pass, and nobody can tell 'ee +better nor I, seeing I were near to him, poor fellow, at the time. Well, +we thought as how the storm were all over--and had all got into order of +march, and were just beginning to step up the avenue, the coffin-bearers +pushing lustily along, and the torches shining grandly, when poor Simon +Toft, who could never travel well in liquor in his life, reeled to one +side, and staggering against the first huge lime-tree, sat himself down +beneath it--thou knowest the tree I mean." + +"The tree of fate," returned Peter. "I ought, methinks, to know it." + +"Well, I were just stepping aside to pick him up, when all at once there +comes such a crack of thunder, and, whizzing through the trees, flashed +a great globe of red fire, so bright and dazzlin', it nearly blinded me; +and when I opened my eyes, winkin' and waterin', I see'd that which +blinded me more even than the flash--that which had just afore been poor +Simon, but which was now a mass o' black smouldering ashes, clean +consumed and destroyed--his clothes rent to a thousand tatters--the +earth and stones tossed up, and scattered all about, and a great +splinter of the tree lying beside him." + +"Heaven's will be done!" said the sexton; "this is an awful judgment." + +"And Sathan cast down; for this is a spice o' his handiwork," muttered +Plant; adding, as he slunk away, "If ever Peter Bradley do come to the +blanket, dang me if I don't lend a helpin' hand." + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_THE FUNERAL_ + + How like a silent stream, shaded by night, + And gliding softly with our windy sighs, + Moves the whole frame of this solemnity! + Tears, sighs, and blacks, filling the simile! + Whilst I, the only murmur in this grove + Of death, thus hollowly break forth. + + _The Fatal Dowry._ + + +Word being given that the funeral train was fast approaching, the church +door was thrown open, and the assemblage divided in two lines, to allow +it admission. + +Meanwhile, a striking change had taken place, even in this brief period, +in the appearance of the night. The sky, heretofore curtained with +darkness, was now illumined by a serene, soft moon, which, floating in a +watery halo, tinged with silvery radiance the edges of a few ghostly +clouds that hurried along the deep and starlit skies. The suddenness of +the change could not fail to excite surprise and admiration, mingled +with regret that the procession had not been delayed until the present +time. + +Slowly and mournfully the train was seen to approach the churchyard, +winding, two by two, with melancholy step, around the corner of the +road. First came Dr. Small; then the mutes, with their sable panoply; +next, the torch-bearers; next, those who sustained the coffin, bending +beneath their ponderous burden, followed by Sir Ranulph and a long line +of attendants, all plainly to be distinguished by the flashing +torchlight. There was a slight halt at the gate, and the coffin changed +supporters. + +"Ill luck betide them!" ejaculated Peter; "could they find no other +place except that to halt at? Must Sir Piers be gatekeeper till next +Yule! No," added he, seeing what followed; "it will be poor Toft, after +all." + +Following close upon the coffin came a rude shell, containing, as Peter +rightly conjectured, the miserable remains of Simon Toft, who had met +his fate in the manner described by Plant. The bolt of death glanced +from the tree which it first struck, and reduced the unfortunate farmer +to a heap of dust. Universal consternation prevailed, and doubts were +entertained as to what course should be pursued. It was judged best by +Dr. Small to remove the remains at once to the charnel-house. Thus +"unanointed, unaneled, with all his imperfections on his head," was poor +Simon Toft, in one brief second, in the twinkling of an eye, plunged +from the height of festivity to the darkness of the grave, and so +horribly disfigured, that scarce a vestige of humanity was discernible +in the mutilated mass that remained of him. Truly may we be said to walk +in blindness, and amidst deep pitfalls. + +The churchyard was thronged by the mournful train. The long array of +dusky figures--the waving torchlight gleaming ruddily in the white +moonshine--now glistening upon the sombre habiliments of the bearers, +and on their shrouded load, now reflected upon the jagged branches of +the yew-trees, or falling upon the ivied buttresses of the ancient +church, constituted no unimpressive picture. Over all, like a lamp hung +in the still sky, shone the moon, shedding a soothing, spiritual lustre +over the scene. + +The organ broke into a solemn strain as the coffin was borne along the +mid-aisle--the mourners following, with reverent step, and slow. It was +deposited near the mouth of the vault, the whole assemblage circling +around it. Dr. Small proceeded with the performance of that magnificent +service appointed for the burial of the dead, in a tone as remarkable +for its sadness as for its force and fervor. There was a tear in every +eye--a cloud on every brow. + +Brightly illumined as was the whole building, there were still some +recesses which, owing to the intervention of heavy pillars, were thrown +into shade; and in one of these, supported by her mother and brother, +stood Eleanor, a weeping witness of the scene. She beheld the coffin +silently borne along; she saw one dark figure slowly following; she knew +those pale features--oh, how pale they were! A year had wrought a +fearful alteration; she could scarce credit what she beheld. He must, +indeed, have suffered--deeply suffered; and her heart told her that his +sorrows had been for her. + +Many a wistful look, besides, was directed to the principal figure in +this ceremonial, Ranulph Rookwood. He was a prey to unutterable anguish +of soul; his heart bled inwardly for the father he had lost. +Mechanically following the body down the aisle, he had taken his station +near it, gazing with confused vision upon the bystanders; had listened, +with a sad composure, to the expressive delivery of Small, until he +read--"_For man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in +vain; he heapeth up riches, and cannot tell who shall gather them._" + +"Verily!" exclaimed a deep voice; and Ranulph, looking round, met the +eyes of Peter Bradley fixed full upon him. But it was evidently not the +sexton who had spoken. + +Small continued the service. He arrived at this verse: "_Thou hast set +our misdeeds before thee; and our secret sins in the light of thy +countenance._" + +"Even so!" exclaimed the voice; and as Ranulph raised his eyes in the +direction of the sound, he thought he saw a dark figure, muffled in a +cloak, disappear behind one of the pillars. He bestowed, however, at the +moment, little thought upon this incident. His heart melted within him; +and leaning his face upon his hand, he wept aloud. + +"Command yourself, I entreat of you, my dear Sir Ranulph," said Dr. +Small, as soon as the service was finished, "and suffer this melancholy +ceremonial to be completed." Saying which, he gently withdrew Ranulph +from his support, and the coffin was lowered into the vault. + +Ranulph remained for some time in the extremity of sorrow. When he in +part recovered, the crowd had dispersed, and few persons were remaining +within the church; yet near him stood three apparent loiterers. They +advanced towards him. An exclamation of surprise and joy burst from his +lips. + +"Eleanor!" + +"Ranulph!" + +"Is it possible? Do I indeed behold you, Eleanor?" + +No other word was spoken. They rushed into each other's arms. Oh! +sad--sad is the lover's parting--no pang so keen; but if life hath a +zest more exquisite than others--if felicity hath one drop more racy +than the rest in her honeyed cup, it is the happiness enjoyed in such a +union as the present. To say that he was as one raised from the depths +of misery by some angel comforter, were a feeble comparison of the +transport of Ranulph. To paint the thrilling delight of Eleanor--the +trembling tenderness--the fond abandonment which vanquished all her +maiden scruples, would be impossible. Reluctantly yielding--fearing, yet +complying, her lips were sealed in one long, loving kiss, the +sanctifying pledge of their tried affection. + +"Eleanor, dear Eleanor," exclaimed Ranulph, "though I hold you within my +arms--though each nerve within my frame assures me of your +presence--though I look into those eyes, which seem fraught with greater +endearment than ever I have known them wear--though I see and feel and +know all this, so sudden, so unlooked for is the happiness, that I could +almost doubt its reality. Say to what blessed circumstance I am indebted +for this unlooked-for happiness." + +"We are staying not far hence, with friends, dear Ranulph; and my +mother, hearing of Sir Piers Rookwood's death, and wishing to bury all +animosity with him, resolved to be present at the sad ceremony. We were +told you could not be here." + +"And would my presence have prevented your attendance, Eleanor?" + +"Not that, dear Ranulph; but----" + +"But what?" + +At this moment the advance of Mrs. Mowbray offered an interruption to +their further discourse. + +"My son and I appear to be secondary in your regards, Sir Ranulph," said +she, gravely. + +"_Sir_ Ranulph!" mentally echoed the young man. "What will _she_ think +when she knows that that title is not mine? I dread to tell her." He +then added aloud, with a melancholy smile, "I crave your pardon, madam; +the delight of a meeting so unexpected with your daughter must plead my +apology." + +"None is wanting, Sir Ranulph," said Major Mowbray. "I who have known +what separation from my sister is, can readily excuse your feelings. But +you look ill." + +"I have, indeed, experienced much mental anxiety," said Ranulph, looking +at Eleanor; "it is now past, and I would fain hope that a brighter day +is dawning." His heart answered, 'twas but a hope. + +"You were unlooked for here to-night, Sir Ranulph," said Mrs. Mowbray; +"by us, at least: we were told you were abroad." + +"You were rightly informed, madam," replied Ranulph. "I only arrived +this evening from Bordeaux." + +"I am glad you are returned. We are at present on a visit with your +neighbors, the Davenhams, at Braybrook, and trust we shall see you +there." + +"I will ride over to-morrow," replied Ranulph; "there is much on which I +would consult you all. I would have ventured to request the favor of +your company at Rookwood, had the occasion been other than the present." + +"And I would willingly have accepted your invitation," returned Mrs. +Mowbray; "I should like to see the old house once more. During your +father's lifetime I could not approach it. You are lord of broad lands, +Sir Ranulph--a goodly inheritance." + +"Madam!" + +"And a proud title, which you will grace well, I doubt not. The first, +the noblest of our house, was he from whom you derive your name. You are +the third Sir Ranulph; the first founded the house of Rookwood; the next +advanced it; 'tis for you to raise its glory to its height." + +"Alas! madam, I have no such thought." + +"Wherefore not? you are young, wealthy, powerful. With such domains as +those of Rookwood--with such a title as its lord can claim, naught +should be too high for your aspirations." + +"I aspire to nothing, madam, but your daughter's hand; and even that I +will not venture to solicit until you are acquainted with----" And he +hesitated. + +"With what?" asked Mrs. Mowbray, in surprise. + +"A singular, and to me most perplexing event has occurred to-night," +replied Ranulph, "which may materially affect my future fortunes." + +"Indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray. "Does it relate to your mother?" + +"Excuse my answering the question now, madam," replied Ranulph; "you +shall know all to-morrow." + +"Ay, to-morrow, dear Ranulph," said Eleanor; "and whatever that morrow +may bring forth, it will bring happiness to me, if you are bearer of the +tidings." + +"I shall expect your coming with impatience," said Mrs. Mowbray. + +"And I," added Major Mowbray, who had listened thus far in silence, +"would offer you my services in any way you think they would be useful. +Command me as you think fitting." + +"I thank you heartily," returned Ranulph. "To-morrow you shall learn +all. Meanwhile, it shall be my business to investigate the truth or +falsehood of the statement I have heard, ere I report it to you. Till +then, farewell." + +As they issued from the church it was gray dawn. Mrs. Mowbray's carriage +stood at the door. The party entered it; and accompanied by Dr. Small, +whom he found within in the vestry, Ranulph walked towards the hall, +where a fresh surprise awaited him. + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_THE CAPTIVE_ + + _Black Will._ Which is the place where we're to be concealed? + + _Green._ This inner room. + + _Black Will._ 'Tis well. The word is, "Now I take you." + + _Arden of Feversham._ + + +Guarded by the two young farmers who had displayed so much address in +seizing him, Luke, meanwhile, had been conveyed in safety to the small +chamber in the eastern wing, destined by Mr. Coates to be his place of +confinement for the night. The room, or rather closet, opening from +another room, was extremely well adapted for the purpose, having no +perceptible outlet; being defended, on either side, by thick partition +walls of the hardest oak, and at the extremity by the solid masonry of +the mansion. It was, in fact, a remnant of the building anterior to the +first Sir Ranulph's day; and the narrow limits of Luke's cell had been +erected long before the date of his earliest progenitor. Having seen +their prisoner safely bestowed, the room was carefully examined, every +board sounded, every crevice and corner peered into by the curious eye +of the little lawyer; and nothing being found insecure, the light was +removed, the door locked, the rustic constables dismissed, and a brace +of pistols having been loaded and laid on the table, Mr. Coates +pronounced himself thoroughly satisfied and quite comfortable. + +Comfortable! Titus heaved a sigh as he echoed the word. He felt anything +but comfortable. His heart was with the body all the while. He thought +of the splendor of the funeral, the torches, the illumined church, his +own dignified march down the aisle, and the effect he expected to +produce amongst the bewildered rustics. He thought of all these things, +and cursed Luke by all the saints in the calendar. The sight of the +musty old apartment, hung round with faded arras, which, as he said, +"smelt of nothing but rats and ghosts, and suchlike varmint," did not +serve to inspirit him; and the proper equilibrium of his temper was not +completely restored until the appearance of the butler, with all the +requisites for the manufacture of punch, afforded him some prospective +solace. + +"And what are they about now, Tim?" asked Titus. + +"All as jolly as can be," answered the domestic; "Dr. Small is just +about to pronounce the funeral 'ration." + +"Devil take it," ejaculated Titus, "there's another miss! Couldn't I +just slip out, and hear that?" + +"On no account," said Coates. "Consider, Sir Ranulph is there." + +"Well, well," rejoined Titus, heaving a deep sigh, and squeezing a +lemon; "are you sure this is _biling_ water, Tim? You know, I'm mighty +particular." + +"Perfectly aware of it, sir." + +"Ah, Tim, do you recollect the way I used to brew for poor Sir Piers, +with a bunch of red currants at the bottom of the glass? And then to +think that, after all, I should be left out of his funeral--it's the +height of barbarity. Tim, this rum of yours is poor stuff--there's no +punch worth the trouble of drinking, except whisky-punch. A glass of +right potheen, straw-color, peat-flavor, ten degrees over proof, would +be the only thing to drown my cares. Any such thing in the cellar? There +used to be an odd bottle or so, Tim--in the left bin, near the door." + +"I've a notion there be," returned Timothy. "I'll try the bin your +honor mentions, and if I can lay hands upon a bottle you shall have it, +you may depend." + +The butler departed, and Titus, emulating Mr. Coates, who had already +enveloped himself, like Juno at the approach of Ixion, in a cloud, +proceeded to light his pipe. + +Luke, meanwhile, had been left alone, without light. He had much to +meditate upon, and with naught to check the current of his thoughts, he +pensively revolved his present situation and future prospects. The +future was gloomy enough--the present fraught with danger. And now that +the fever of excitement was passed, he severely reproached himself for +his precipitancy. + +His mind, by degrees, assumed a more tranquil state; and, exhausted with +his great previous fatigue, he threw himself upon the floor of his +prison-house, and addressed himself to slumber. The noise he made +induced Coates to enter the room, which he did with a pistol in each +hand, followed by Titus with a pipe and candle; but finding all safe the +sentinels retired. + +"One may see, with half an eye, that you're not used to a feather-bed, +my friend," said Titus, as the door was locked. "By the powers, he's a +tall chap, anyhow--why his feet almost touch the door. I should say that +room was a matter of six feet long, Mr. Coates." + +"Exactly six feet, sir." + +"Well, that's a good guess. Hang that ugly rascal, Tim; he's never +brought the whisky. But I'll be even with him to-morrow. Couldn't you +just see to the prisoner for ten minutes, Mr. Coates?" + +"Not ten seconds. I shall report you, if you stir from your post." + +Here the door was opened, and Tim entered with the whisky. + +"Arrah! by my soul, Tim, and here you are at last--uncork it, man, and +give us a thimbleful--blob! there goes the stopper--here's a +glass"--smacking his lips--"whist, Tim, another drop--stuff like this +will never hurt a body. Mr. Coates, try it--no--I thought you'd be a man +of more taste." + +"I must limit you to a certain quantity," replied Coates, "or you will +not be fit to keep guard--another glass must be the extent of your +allowance." + +"Another glass! and do you think I'll submit to any such iniquitous +proposition?" + +"Beg pardon, gentlemen," said Tim, "but her ladyship desires me to tell +you both, that she trusts you will keep the strictest watch upon the +prisoner. I have the same message also from Sir Ranulph." + +"Do you hear that?" said Coates. + +"And what are they all about now, Tim?" groaned Titus. + +"Just starting, sir," returned Tim; "and, indeed, I must not lose my +time gossiping here, for I be wanted below. You must be pleased to take +care of yourselves, gentlemen, for an hour or so, for there will be only +a few women-kind left in the house. The storm's just over, and the men +are all lighting their torches. Oh, it's a grand sight!" And off set +Tim. + +"Bad luck to myself, anyhow," ejaculated Titus; "this is more than I can +bear--I've had enough of this watch and ward business--if the prisoner +stirs, shoot him, if you think proper--I'll be back in an hour." + +"I tell you what, Mr. Tyrconnel," said Coates, coolly taking up the +pistol from the table, "I'm a man of few words, but those few are, I +hope, to the purpose, and I'd have you to know if you stir from that +chair, or attempt to leave the room, damme but I'll send a brace of +bullets after you. I'm serious, I assure you." And he cocked the pistol. + +By way of reply to this menace, Titus deliberately filled a stiff glass +of whisky-and-water. + +"That's your last glass," said the inexorable Coates. + +To return once more to Luke. He slept uneasily for some short space, +and was awakened by a sound which reached his dreaming ears and +connected itself with the visions that slumber was weaving around him. +It was some moments before he could distinctly remember where he was. He +would not venture to sleep again, though he felt overwhelmed by +drowsiness--there was a fixed pain at his heart, as if circulation were +suspended. Changing his posture, he raised himself upon one arm; he then +became aware of a scratching noise, somewhat similar to the sound he had +heard in his dream, and perceived a light gleaming through a crevice in +the oaken partition. His attention was immediately arrested, and placing +his eye close to the chink, he distinctly saw a dark lantern burning, +and by its light a man filing some implement of housebreaking. The light +fell before the hard features of the man, with whose countenance Luke +was familiar; and although only one person came within the scope of his +view, Luke could make out, from a muttered conversation that was carried +on, that he had a companion. The parties were near to him, and though +speaking in a low tone, Luke's quick ear caught the following: + +"What keeps Jack Palmer, I wonder?" said he of the file. "We're all +ready for the fakement--pops primed--and I tell you what, Rob Rust, I've +made my clasp-knife as sharp as a razor, and damme, if Lady Rookwood +offers any resistance, I'll spoil her talking in future, I promise you." + +Suppressed laughter from Rust followed this speech. That laugh made +Luke's blood run cold within his veins. + +"Harkee, Dick Wilder, you're a reg'lar out-and-outer, and stops at +nothing, and curse me if I'd think any more of it than yourself. But +Jack's as squeamish of bloodshed as young Miss that cries at her cut +finger. It's the safer plan. Say what you will, nothing but _that_ will +stop a woman's tongue." + +"I shall make short work with her ladyship to-night, anyhow. Hist! here +Jack comes." + +A footstep crossed in the room, and, presently afterwards, exclamations +of surprise and smothered laughter were heard from the parties. + +"Bravo, Jack! famous! that disguise would deceive the devil himself." + +"And now, my lads," said the newcomer, "is all right?" + +"Right and tight." + +"Nothing forgotten?" + +"Nothing." + +"Then off with your stamps, and on with your list slippers; not a word. +Follow me, and, for your lives, don't move a step but as I direct you. +The word must be, '_Sir Piers Rookwood calls_.' We'll overhaul the swag +here. This crack may make us all for life; and if you'll follow my +directions implicitly, we'll do the trick in style. This slum must be +our rendezvous when all's over; for hark ye, my lads, I'll not budge an +inch till Luke Bradley be set free. He's an old friend, and I always +stick by old friends. I'd do the same for one of you if you were in the +same scrape, so, damn you, no flinching; besides, I owe that +spider-shanked, snivelling split-cause Coates, who stands sentry, a +grudge, and I'll pay him off, as Paul did the Ephesians. You may crop +his ears, or slit his tongue as you would a magpie's, or any other +chattering varmint; make him sign his own testament, or treat him with a +touch of your _Habeas Corpus_ Act, if you think proper, or give him a +taste of blue plumb. One thing only I stipulate, that you don't hurt +that fat, mutton-headed Broganeer, whatever he may say or do; he's a +devilish good fellow. And now to business." + +Saying which, they noiselessly departed. But carefully as the door was +closed, Luke's ear could detect the sound. His blood boiled with +indignation; and he experienced what all must have felt who have been +similarly situated, with the will, but not the power, to assist +another--a sensation almost approaching to torture. At this moment a +distant scream burst upon his ears--another--he hesitated no longer. +With all his force he thundered at the door. + +"What do you want, rascal?" cried Coates, from without. + +"There are robbers in the house." + +"Thank you for the information. There is one I know of already." + +"Fool, they are in Lady Rookwood's room. Run to her assistance." + +"A likely story, and leave you here." + +"Do you hear that scream?" + +"Eh, what--what's that? I do hear something." Here Luke dashed with all +his force against the door. It yielded to the blow, and he stood before +the astonished attorney. + +"Advance a footstep, villain," exclaimed Coates, presenting both his +pistols, "and I lodge a brace of balls in your head." + +"Listen to me," said Luke; "the robbers are in Lady Rookwood's +chamber--they will plunder the place of everything--perhaps murder her. +Fly to her assistance, I will accompany you--assist you--it is your only +chance." + +"_My_ only chance--_your_ only chance. Do you take me for a greenhorn? +This is a poor subterfuge; could you not have vamped up something +better? Get back to your own room, or I shall make no more of shooting +you than I would of snuffing that candle." + +"Be advised, sir," continued Luke. "There are three of them--give me a +pistol, and fear nothing." + +"Give _you_ a pistol! Ha, ha!--to be its mark myself. You are an amusing +rascal, I will say." + +"Sir, I tell you not a moment is to be lost. Is life nothing? Lady +Rookwood may be murdered." + +"I tell _you_, once for all, it won't do. Go back to your room, or take +the consequences." + +"By the powers! but it shall do, anyhow," exclaimed Titus, flinging +himself upon the attorney, and holding both his arms; "you've bullied me +long enough. I'm sure the lad's in the right." + +Luke snatched the pistols from the hands of Coates. + +"Very well, Mr. Tyrconnel; very well, sir," cried the attorney, boiling +with wrath, and spluttering out his words. "Extremely well, sir. You are +not perhaps aware, sir, what you have done; but you will repent this, +sir--repent, I say--repent was my word, Mr. Tyrconnel." + +"Poh!--poh!" replied Titus. "I shall never repent a good-natured +action." + +"Follow me," cried Luke; "settle your disputes hereafter. Quick, or we +shall be too late." + +Coates bustled after him, and Titus, putting the neck of the forbidden +whisky bottle to his lips, and gulping down a hasty mouthful, snatched +up a rusty poker, and followed the party with more alacrity than might +have been expected from so portly a personage. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI_ + +_THE APPARITION_ + + _Gibbet._ Well, gentlemen, 'tis a fine night for our enterprise. + + _Hounslow._ Dark as hell. + + _Bagshot._ And blows like the devil. + + _Boniface._ You'll have no creature to deal with but the ladies. + + _Gibbet._ And I can assure you, friend, there's a great deal of + address, and good manners, in robbing a lady. I am the most of a + gentleman, that way, that ever travelled the road. + + _Beaux Stratagem._ + + +Accompanied by her son, Lady Rookwood, on quitting the chamber of the +dead, returned to her own room. She then renewed all her arguments; had +recourse to passionate supplications--to violent threats, but without +effect. Ranulph maintained profound silence. Passion, as it ever doth, +defeated its own ends; and Lady Rookwood, seeing the ill effect her +anger would probably produce, gradually softened the asperity of her +manner, and suffered him to depart. + +Left to herself, and to the communings of her own troubled spirit, her +fortitude, in a measure, forsook her, under the pressure of the +difficulties by which she was environed. There was no plan she could +devise--no scheme adopt, unattended with peril. She must act alone--with +promptitude and secrecy. To win her son over was her chief desire, and +that, at all hazards, she was resolved to do. But how? She knew of only +one point on which he was vulnerable--his love for Eleanor Mowbray. By +raising doubts in his mind, and placing fresh difficulties in his path, +she might compel him to acquiesce in her machinations, as a necessary +means of accomplishing his own object. This she hoped to effect. Still +there was a depth of resolution in the placid stream of Ranulph's +character which she had often noticed with apprehension. Aware of his +firmness, she dreaded lest his sense of justice should be stronger than +his passion. + +As she wove these webs of darkness, fear, hitherto unknown, took +possession of her soul. She listened to the howling of the wind--to the +vibration of the rafters--to the thunder's roar, and to the hissing +rain--till she, who never trembled at the thought of danger, became +filled with vague uneasiness. Lights were ordered; and when her old +attendant returned. Lady Rookwood fixed a look so wistful upon her, that +Agnes ventured to address her. + +"Bless you, my lady," said the ancient handmaiden, trembling, "you look +very pale, and no wonder. I feel sick at heart, too. Oh! I shall be glad +when they return from the church, and happier still when the morning +dawns. I can't sleep a wink--can't close my eyes, but I think of him." + +"Of _him_?" + +"Of Sir Piers, my lady; for though he's dead, I don't think he's gone." + +"How?" + +"Why, my lady, the corruptible part of him's gone, sure enough. But the +incorruptible, as Dr. Small calls it--the sperrit, my lady. It might be +my fancy, your ladyship; but as I'm standing here, when I went back into +the room just now for the lights, as I hope to live, I thought I saw Sir +Piers in the room." + +"You are crazed, Agnes." + +"No, my lady, I'm not crazed; it was mere fancy, no doubt. Oh, it's a +blessed thing to live with an easy conscience--a thrice blessed thing to +_die_ with an easy one, and that's what I never shall, I'm afeard. Poor +Sir Piers! I'd mumble a prayer for him, if I durst." + +"Leave me," said Lady Rookwood, impatiently. + +And Agnes quitted the room. + +"What if the dead can return?" thought Lady Rookwood. "All men doubt it, +yet all men believe it. _I_ would not believe it, were there not a +creeping horror that overmasters me, when I think of the state beyond +the grave--that intermediate state, for such it must be, when the body +lieth mouldering in the ground, and the soul survives, to wander, +unconfined, until the hour of doom. And doth the soul survive when +disenthralled? Is it dependent on the body? Does it perish with the +body? These are doubts I cannot resolve. But if I deemed there was no +future state, this hand should at once liberate me from my own +weaknesses--my fears--my life. There is but one path to acquire that +knowledge, which, once taken, can never be retraced. I am content to +live--while living, to be feared--it may be, hated; when dead, to be +contemned--yet still remembered. Ha! what sound was that? A stifled +scream! Agnes!--without there! She is full of fears. I am not free from +them myself, but I will shake them off. This will divert their channel," +continued she, drawing from her bosom the marriage certificate. "This +will arouse the torpid current of my blood--'_Piers Rookwood to Susan +Bradley_.' And by whom was it solemnized? The name is Checkley--Richard +Checkley. Ha! I bethink me--a Papist priest--a recusant--who was for +some time an inmate of the hall. I have heard of this man--he was +afterwards imprisoned, but escaped--he is either dead or in a foreign +land. No witnesses--'tis well! Methinks Sir Piers Rookwood did well to +preserve this. It shall light his funeral pyre. Would he could now +behold me, as I consume it!" + +She held the paper in the direction of the candle; but, ere it could +touch the flame, it dropped from her hand. As if her horrible wish had +been granted, before her stood the figure of her husband! Lady Rookwood +started not. No sign of trepidation or alarm, save the sudden stiffening +of her form, was betrayed. Her bosom ceased to palpitate--her +respiration stopped--her eyes were fixed upon the apparition. + +The figure appeared to regard her sternly. It was at some little +distance, within the shade cast by the lofty bedstead. Still she could +distinctly discern it. There was no ocular deception; it was attired in +the costume Sir Piers was wont to wear--a hunting dress. All that her +son had told her rushed to her recollection. The phantom advanced. Its +countenance was pale, and wore a gloomy frown. + +"What would you destroy?" demanded the apparition, in a hollow tone. + +"The evidence of----" + +"What?" + +"Your marriage." + +"With yourself, accursed woman?" + +"With Susan Bradley." + +"What's that I hear?" shouted the figure, in an altered tone. "Married +to her! then Luke _is_ legitimate, and heir to this estate!" Whereupon +the apparition rushed to the table, and laid a very substantial grasp +upon the document. "A marriage certificate!" ejaculated the spectre; +"here's a piece of luck! It ain't often in our lottery life we draw a +prize like this. One way or the other, it must turn up a few cool +thousands." + +"Restore that paper, villain," exclaimed Lady Rookwood, recovering all +the audacity natural to her character the instant she discovered the +earthly nature of the intruder--"restore it, or, by Heaven, you shall +rue your temerity." + +"Softly, softly," replied the pseudo-phantom, with one hand pushing back +the lady, while the other conveyed the precious document to the custody +of his nether man--"softly," said he, giving the buckskin pocket a +slap--"two words to that, my lady. I know its value as well as yourself, +and must make my market. The highest offer has me, your ladyship; he's +but a poor auctioneer that knocks down his ware when only one bidder is +present. Luke Bradley, or, as I find he now is, Sir Luke Rookwood, may +come down more handsomely." + +"Who are you, ruffian, and to what end is this masquerade assumed? If +for the purpose of terrifying me into compliance with the schemes of +that madman, Luke Bradley, whom I presume to be your confederate, your +labor is misspent--your stolen disguise has no more weight with me than +his forged claims." + +"Forged claims! Egad, he must be a clever hand to have forged that +certificate. Your ladyship, however, is in error. Sir Luke Rookwood is +no associate of mine; I am his late father's friend. But I have no time +to bandy talk. What money have you in the house? Be alive." + +"You _are_ a robber, then?" + +"Not I. I'm a tax-gatherer--a collector of Rich-Rates--ha, ha! What +plate have you got? Nay, don't be alarmed--take it quietly--these things +can't be helped--better make up your mind to do it without more +ado--much the best plan--no screaming, it may injure your lungs, and can +alarm nobody. Your maids have done as much before--it's beneath your +dignity to make so much noise. So, you will not heed me? As you will." +Saying which, he deliberately cut the bell-cord, and drew out a brace of +pistols at the same time. + +"Agnes!" shrieked Lady Rookwood, now seriously alarmed. + +"I must caution your ladyship to be silent," said the robber, who, as +our readers will no doubt have already conjectured, was no other than +the redoubted Jack Palmer. "Agnes is already disposed of," said he, +cocking a pistol. "However like your deceased 'lord and master' I may +appear, you will find you have got a very different spirit from that of +Sir Piers to deal with. I am naturally the politest man breathing--have +been accounted the best-bred man on the road by every lady whom I have +had the honor of addressing; and I should be sorry to sully my +well-earned reputation by anything like rudeness. I must use a little +force, of the gentlest kind. Perhaps you will permit me to hand you to a +chair. Bless me! what a wrist your ladyship has got. Excuse me if I hurt +you, but you are so devilish strong. What ho! 'Sir Piers Rookwood +calls--'" + +"Ready," cried a voice. + +"That's the word," rejoined another; "ready;" and immediately two men, +their features entirely hidden by a shroud of black crape, accoutred in +rough attire, and each armed with pistols, rushed into the room. + +"Lend a hand," said Jack. + +Even in this perilous extremity Lady Rookwood's courage did not desert +her. Anticipating their purpose, ere her assailants could reach her she +extricated herself from Palmer's grasp, and rushed upon the foremost so +unexpectedly, that, before the man could seize her, she snatched a +pistol from his hand, and presented it at the group with an aspect like +that of a tigress at bay--her eye wandering from one to the other, as if +selecting a mark. + +There was a pause of a few seconds, in which the men glanced at the +lady, and then at their leader. Jack looked blank. + +"Hem!" said he, coolly; "this is something new--disarmed--defied by a +petticoat. Hark ye, Rob Rust, the disgrace rests with you. Clear your +character, by securing her at once. What! afraid of a woman?" + +"A woman!" repeated Rust, in a surly tone; "devilish like a woman, +indeed. Few men could do what she has done. Give the word, and I fire. +As to seizing her, that's more than I'll engage to do." + +"You are a coward," cried Jack. "I will steer clear of blood--if I can +help it. Come, madam, surrender, like the more sensible part of your +sex, at discretion. You will find resistance of no avail." And he +stepped boldly towards her. + +Lady Rookwood pulled the trigger. The pistol flashed in the pan. She +flung away the useless weapon without a word. + +"Ha, ha!" said Jack, as he leisurely stooped to pick up the pistol, and +approached her ladyship; "the bullet is not yet cast that is to be my +billet. Here," said he, dealing Rust a heavy thump upon the shoulder +with the butt-end of the piece, "take back your snapper, and look you +prick the touchhole, or your barking-iron will never bite for you. And +now, madam, I must take the liberty of again handing you to a seat. Dick +Wilder, the cord--quick. It distresses me to proceed to such lengths +with your ladyship--but safe bind, safe find, as Mr. Coates would say." + +"You will not bind me, ruffian." + +"Your ladyship is very much mistaken--I have no alternative--your +ladyship's wrist is far too dexterous to be at liberty. I must +furthermore request of your ladyship to be less vociferous--you +interrupt business, which should be transacted with silence and +deliberation." + +Lady Rookwood's rage and vexation at this indignity were beyond all +bounds. Resistance, however, was useless, and she submitted in silence. +The cord was passed tightly round her arms, when it flashed upon her +recollection for the first time that Coates and Tyrconnel, who were in +charge of her captive in the lower corridor, might be summoned to her +assistance. This idea no sooner crossed her mind than she uttered a loud +and prolonged scream. + +"'Sdeath!" cried Jack; "civility is wasted here. Give me the gag, Rob." + +"Better slit her squeaking-pipe at once," replied Rust, drawing his +clasped knife; "she'll thwart everything." + +"The gag, I say, not _that_." + +"I can't find the gag," exclaimed Wilder, savagely. "Leave Rob Rust to +manage her--he'll silence her, I warrant you, while you and I rummage +the room." + +"Ay, leave her to me," said the other miscreant. "Go about your +business, and take no heed. Her hands are fast--she can't scratch. I'll +do it with a single gash--send her to join her lord, whom she loved so +well, before he's under ground. They'll have something to see when they +come home from the master's funeral--their mistress _cut and dry_ for +another. Ho, ho!" + +"Mercy, mercy!" shrieked Lady Rookwood. + +"Ay, ay, I'll be merciful," said Rust, brandishing his knife before her +eyes. "I'll not be long about it. Leave her to me--I'll give her a taste +of Sir Sydney." + +"No, no, Rust; no bloodshed," said Jack, authoritatively; "I'll find +some other way to gag the jade." + +At this moment a noise of rapid footsteps was heard within the passage. + +"Assistance comes," screamed Lady Rookwood. "Help! help!" + +"To the door!" cried Jack. The words were scarcely out of his mouth +before Luke dashed into the room, followed by Coates and Tyrconnel. + +Palmer and his companions levelled their pistols at the intruders, and +the latter would have fired, but Jack's keen eye having discerned Luke +amongst the foremost, checked further hostilities for the present. Lady +Rookwood, meanwhile, finding herself free from restraint, rushed towards +her deliverers, and crouched beneath Luke's protecting arms, which were +extended, pistol in hand, over her head. Behind them stood Titus +Tyrconnel, flourishing the poker, and Mr. Coates, who, upon the sight of +so much warlike preparation, began somewhat to repent having rushed so +precipitately into the lion's den. + +"Luke Bradley!" exclaimed Palmer, stepping forward. + +"Luke Bradley!" echoed Lady Rookwood, recoiling and staring into his +face. + +"Fear nothing, madam," cried Luke. "I am here to assist you--I will +defend you with my life." + +"_You_ defend _me_!" exclaimed Lady Rookwood, doubtfully. + +"Even _I_," cried Luke, "strange as it may sound." + +"Holy powers protect me!" ejaculated Titus. "As I live, it is Sir Piers +himself." + +"Sir Piers!" echoed Coates, catching the infection of terror, as he +perceived Palmer more distinctly. "What! is the dead come to life again? +A ghost, a ghost!" + +"By my soul," cried Titus, "it's the first ghost I ever heard of that +committed a burglary in its own house, and on the night of the body's +burial, too. But who the devil are these? maybe they're ghosts +likewise." + +"They are," said Palmer, in a hollow tone, mimicking the voice of Sir +Piers, "attendant spirits. We are come for this woman; her time is out; +so no more palavering, Titus. Lend a hand to take her to the churchyard, +and be hanged to you." + +"Upon my conscience, Mr. Coates," cried Titus, "it's either the devil, +or Sir Piers. We'll be only in the way here. He's only just settling his +old scores with his lady. I thought it would come to this long ago. We'd +best beat a retreat." + +Jack took advantage of the momentary confusion created by this +incidental alarm at his disguise to direct Rust towards the door by +which the new comers had entered; and, this being accomplished, he burst +into a loud laugh. + +"What! not know me?" cried he--"not know your old friend with a new +face, Luke? Nor you, Titus? Nor you, who can see through a millstone, +lawyer Coates, don't you recognize----" + +"Jack Palmer, as I'm a sinner!" cried Titus. "Why, this beats Banaghan. +Arrah! Jack, honey, what does this mean? Is it yourself I see in such +company? You're not robbing in earnest?" + +"Indeed but I am, friend Titus," exclaimed Jack; "and _it is_ my own +self you see. I just took the liberty of borrowing Sir Piers's old +hunting-coat from the justice-room. You said my toggery wouldn't do for +the funeral. I'm no other than plain Jack Palmer, after all." + +"With half a dozen aliases at your back, I dare say," cried Coates. "_I_ +suspected you all along. All your praise of highwaymen was not lost upon +me. No, no; I _can_ see into a millstone, be it ever so thick." + +"Well," replied Jack, "I'm sorry to see you here, friend Titus. Keep +quiet, and you shall come to no harm. As to you, Luke Bradley, you have +anticipated my intention by half an hour; I meant to set you free. For +you, Mr. Coates, you may commit all future care of your affairs to your +executors, administrators, and assigns. You will have no further need to +trouble yourself with worldly concerns," added he, levelling a pistol at +the attorney, who, however, shielded himself, in an agony of +apprehension, behind Luke's person. "Stand aside, Luke." + +"I stir not," replied Luke. "I thank you for your good intention, and +will not injure you--that is, if you do not force me to do so. I am here +to defend her ladyship." + +"What's that you say?" returned Jack, in surprise--"_defend_ her +ladyship?" + +"With my life," replied Luke. "Let me counsel you to depart." + +"Are you mad? Defend her--Lady Rookwood--your enemy--who would hang you? +Tut, tut! Stand aside, I say, Luke Bradley, or look to yourself." + +"You had better consider well ere you proceed," said Luke. "You know me +of old. I have taken odds as great, and not come off the vanquished." + +"The odds are even," cried Titus, "if Mr. Coates will but show fight. +I'll stand by you to the last, my dear boy. You're the right son of your +father, though on the wrong side. Och! Jack Palmer, my jewel, no wonder +you resemble Dick Turpin." + +"You hear this?" cried Luke. + +"Hot-headed fool!" muttered Jack. + +"Why don't you shoot him on the spot?" said Wilder. + +"And mar my own chance," thought Jack. "No, that will never do; his life +is not to be thrown away. Be quiet," said he, in a whisper to Wilder; +"I've another card to play, which shall serve us better than all the +plunder here. No harm must come to that youngster; his life is worth +thousands to us." Then, turning to Luke, he continued, "I'm loth to hurt +you; yet what can I do? You must have the worst of it if we come to a +pitched battle. I therefore advise you, as a friend, to draw off your +forces. We are three to three, it is true; but two of _your_ party are +unarmed." + +"Unarmed!" interrupted Titus. "Devil burn me! this iron shillelah shall +convince you to the contrary, Jack, or any of your friends." + +"Make ready then, my lads," cried Palmer. + +"Stop a minute," exclaimed Coates. "This gets serious; it will end in +homicide--in murder. We shall all have our throats cut to a certainty; +and though these rascals will as certainly be hanged for it, that will +be poor satisfaction to the sufferers. Had we not better refer the +matter to arbitration?" + +"I'm for fighting it out," said Titus, whisking the poker round his head +like a flail in action. "My blood's up. Come on, Jack Palmer, I'm for +you." + +"I should vote for retreating," chattered the attorney, "if that cursed +fellow had not placed a _ne exeat_ at the door." + +"Give the word, captain," cried Rust, impatiently. + +"Ay, ay," echoed Wilder. + +"A skilful general always parleys," said Jack. "A word in your ear, +Luke, ere that be done which cannot be undone." + +"You mean me no treachery?" returned Luke. + +Jack made no answer, but uncocking his pistols, deposited them within +his pockets. + +"Shoot him as he advances," whispered Coates; "he is in your power now." + +"Scoundrel!" replied Luke, "do you think me as base as yourself?" + +"Hush, hush! for God's sake don't expose me," said Coates. + +Lady Rookwood had apparently listened to this singular conference with +sullen composure, though in reality she was racked with anxiety as to +its results; and, now apprehending that Palmer was about to make an +immediate disclosure to Luke, she accosted him as he passed her. + +"Unbind me!" cried she, "and what you wish shall be +yours--money--jewels----" + +"Ha! may I depend?" + +"I pledge my word." + +Palmer untied the cord, and Lady Rookwood, approaching a table whereon +stood the escritoire, touched a spring, and a secret drawer flew open. + +"You do this of your own free will?" asked Luke. "Speak, if it be +otherwise." + +"I do," returned the lady, hastily. + +Palmer's eyes glistened at the treasures exposed to his view. + +"They are jewels of countless price. Take them, and rid me," she added +in a whisper, "of _him_." + +"Luke Bradley?" + +"Ay." + +"Give them to me." + +"They are yours freely on those terms." + +"You hear that, Luke," cried he, aloud; "you hear it, Titus; this is no +robbery. Mr. Coates--'Know all men by these _presents_'--I call you to +witness, Lady Rookwood gives me these pretty things." + +"I do," returned she; adding, in a whisper, "on the terms which I +proposed." + +"Must it be done at once?" + +"Without an instant's delay." + +"Before your own eyes?" + +"I fear not to look on. Each moment is precious. He is off his guard +now. You do it, you know, in self-defence." + +"And you?" + +"For the same cause." + +"Yet he came here to aid you?" + +"What of that?" + +"He would have risked his life for yours?" + +"I cannot pay back the obligation. He must die!" + +"The document?" + +"Will be useless then." + +"Will not that suffice; why aim at life?" + +"You trifle with me. You fear to do it." + +"_Fear!_" + +"About it, then; you shall have more gold." + +"I will about it," cried Jack, throwing the casket to Wilder, and +seizing Lady Rookwood's hands. "I am no Italian bravo, madam--no +assassin--no remorseless cut-throat. What are you--devil or woman--who +ask me to do this? Luke Bradley, I say." + +"Would you betray me?" cried Lady Rookwood. + +"You have betrayed yourself, madam. Nay, nay, Luke, hands off. See, Lady +Rookwood, how you would treat a friend. This strange fellow would blow +out my brains for laying a finger upon your ladyship." + +"I will suffer no injury to be done to her," said Luke; "release her." + +"Your ladyship hears him," said Jack. "And you, Luke, shall learn the +value set upon your generosity. You will not have _her_ injured. This +instant she has proposed, nay, paid for _your_ assassination." + +"How?" exclaimed Luke, recoiling. + +"A lie, as black as hell," cried Lady Rookwood. + +"A truth, as clear as heaven," retained Jack. "I will speedily convince +you of the fact." Then, turning to Lady Rookwood, he whispered, "Shall I +give him the marriage document?" + +"Beware!" said Lady Rookwood. + +"Do I avouch the truth, then?" + +She was silent. + +"I am answered," said Luke. + +"Then leave her to her fate," cried Jack. + +"No," replied Luke; "she is still a woman, and I will not abandon her to +ruffianly violence. Set her free." + +"You are a fool," said Jack. + +"Hurrah, hurrah!" vociferated Coates, who had rushed to the window. +"Rescue, rescue! they are returning from the church; I see the +torchlight in the avenue; we are saved!" + +"Hell and the devil!" cried Jack; "not an instant is to be lost. Alive, +lads; bring off all the plunder you can; be handy!" + +"Lady Rookwood, I bid you farewell," said Luke, in a tone in which scorn +and sorrow were blended. "We shall meet again." + +"We have not parted yet," returned she; "will you let this man pass? A +thousand pounds for his life." + +"Upon the nail?" asked Rust. + +"By the living God, if any of you attempt to touch him, I will blow his +brains out upon the spot, be he friend or foe," cried Jack. "Luke +Bradley, _we_ shall meet again. You shall hear from me." + +"Lady Rookwood," said Luke, as he departed, "I shall not forget this +night." + +"Is all ready?" asked Palmer of his comrades. + +"All." + +"Then budge." + +"Stay!" cried Lady Rookwood, in a whisper to him. "What will purchase +that document?" + +"Hem!" + +"A thousand pounds?" + +"Double it." + +"It _shall_ be doubled." + +"I will turn it over." + +"Resolve me now." + +"You shall hear from me." + +"In what manner?" + +"I will find speedy means." + +"Your name is Palmer?" + +"Palmer is the name he goes by, your ladyship," replied Coates, "but it +is the fashion with these rascals to have an alias." + +"Ha! ha!" said Jack, thrusting the ramrod into his pistol-barrel, "are +you there, Mr. Coates? Pay your wager, sir." + +"What wager?" + +"The hundred we bet that you would take me if ever you had the chance." + +"Take _you_!--it was Dick Turpin I betted to take." + +"_I_ am DICK TURPIN--that's my alias!" replied Jack. + +"Dick Turpin! then I'll have a snap at you at all hazards," cried +Coates, springing suddenly towards him. + +"And I at you," said Turpin, discharging his pistol right in the face of +the rash attorney; "there's a quittance in full." + + + + +_BOOK III_ + + +_THE GIPSY_ + + Lay a garland on my hearse + Of the dismal yew; + Maidens, willow branches bear, + Say I died true. + My love was false, but I was firm + From my hour of birth; + Upon my buried body lie + Lightly, gentle earth. + + BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_A MORNING RIDE_ + + I had a sister, who among the race + Of gipsies was the fairest. Fair she was + In gentle blood, and gesture to her beauty. + + BROME. + + +On quitting Lady Rookwood's chamber, Luke speeded along the gloomy +corridor, descended the spiral stairs, and, swiftly traversing sundry +other dark passages, issued from a door at the back of the house. Day +was just beginning to break. His first object had been to furnish +himself with means to expedite his flight; and, perceiving no one in the +yard, he directed his hasty steps towards the stable. The door was +fortunately unfastened; and, entering, he found a strong roan horse, +which he knew, from description, had been his father's favorite hunter, +and to the use of which he now considered himself fully entitled. The +animal roused himself as he approached, shook his glossy coat, and +neighed, as if he recognized the footsteps and voice. + +"Thou art mistaken, old fellow," said Luke; "I am not he thou thinkest; +nevertheless, I am glad thy instinct would have it so. If thou bearest +my father's son as thou hast borne thy old master, o'er many a field for +many a day, he need not fear the best mounted of his pursuers. Soho! +come hither, Rook." + +The noble steed turned at the call. Luke hastily saddled him, vaulted +upon his back, and, disregarding every impediment in the shape of fence +or ditch, shaped his course across the field towards the sexton's +cottage, which he reached just as its owner was in the act of unlocking +his door. Peter testified his delight and surprise at the escape of his +grandson, by a greeting of chuckling laughter. + +"How?--escaped!" exclaimed he. "Who has delivered you from the hands of +the Moabites? Ha, ha! But why do I ask? Who could it have been but Jack +Palmer?" + +"My own hands have set me free," returned Luke. "I am indebted to no man +for liberty; still less to _him_. But I cannot tarry here; each moment +is precious. I came to request you to accompany me to the gipsy +encampment. Will you go, or not?" + +"And mount behind you?" replied Peter; "I like not the manner of +conveyance." + +"Farewell, then." And Luke turned to depart. + +"Stay; that is Sir Piers's horse, old Rook. I care not if I do ride +him." + +"Quick, then; mount." + +"I will not delay you a moment," rejoined the sexton, opening his door, +and throwing his implements into the cottage. "Back, Mole; back, sir," +cried he, as the dog rushed out to greet him. "Bring your steed nigh +this stone, grandson Luke--there--a little nearer--all's right." And +away they galloped. + +The sexton's first inquiries were directed to ascertain how Luke had +accomplished his escape; and, having satisfied himself in this +particular, he was content to remain silent; musing, it might be, on the +incidents detailed to him. + +The road Luke chose was a rough, unfrequented lane, that skirted, for +nearly a mile, the moss-grown palings of the park. It then diverged to +the right, and seemed to bear towards a range of hills rising in the +distance. High hedges impeded the view on either hand; but there were +occasional gaps, affording glimpses of the tract of country through +which he was riding. Meadows were seen steaming with heavy dews, +intersected by a deep channelled stream, whose course was marked by a +hanging cloud of vapor, as well as by a row of melancholy +pollard-willows, that stood like stripped, shivering urchins by the +river side. Other fields succeeded, yellow with golden grain, or bright +with flowering clover--the autumnal crop--colored with every shade, from +the light green of the turnip to the darker verdure of the bean, the +various products of the teeming land. The whole was backed by round +drowsy masses of trees. + +Luke spoke not, nor abated his furious course, till the road began to +climb a steep ascent. He then drew in the rein, and from the heights of +the acclivity surveyed the plain over which he had passed. + +It was a rich agricultural district, with little picturesque beauty, but +much of true English endearing loveliness to recommend it. Such a quiet, +pleasing landscape, in short, as one views, at such a season of the +year, from every eminence in every county of our merry isle. The picture +was made up of a tract of land filled with corn ripe for the sickle, or +studded with sheaves of the same golden produce, enlivened with green +meadows, so deeply luxuriant as to claim the scythe for the second time; +each divided from the other by thick hedgerows, the uniformity of which +was broken ever and anon by some towering elm, tall poplar, or +wide-branching oak. Many old farmhouses, with their broad barns and +crowded haystacks--forming little villages in themselves--ornamented the +landscape at different points, and by their substantial look evidenced +the fertility of the soil, and the thriving condition of its +inhabitants. Some three miles distant might be seen the scattered hamlet +of Rookwood; the dark russet thatch of its houses scarcely perceptible +amidst the embrowned foliage of the surrounding timber. The site of the +village was, however, pointed out by the square tower of the antique +church, that crested the summit of the adjoining hill; and although the +hall was entirely hidden from view, Luke readily traced out its locality +amidst the depths of the dark grove in which it was embosomed. + +This goodly prospect had other claims to attention in Luke's eyes +besides its agricultural or pictorial merit. It was, or he deemed it +was, his own. Far as his eye ranged, yea, even beyond the line of +vision, the estates of Rookwood extended. + +"Do you see that house below us in the valley?" asked Peter of his +companion. + +"I do," replied Luke; "a snug old house--a model of a farm. Everything +looks comfortable and well to do about it. There are a dozen lusty +haystacks, or thereabouts; and the great barn, with its roof yellowed +like gold, looks built for a granary; and there are stables, +kine-houses, orchards, dovecots, and fishponds, and an old circular +garden, with wall-fruit in abundance. He should be a happy man, and a +wealthy one, who dwells therein." + +"He dwells therein no longer," returned Peter; "he died last night." + +"How know you that? None are stirring in the house as yet." + +"The owner of that house, Simon Toft," replied Peter, "was last night +struck by a thunderbolt. He was one of the coffin-bearers at your +father's funeral. They are sleeping within the house, you say. 'Tis +well. Let them sleep on--they will awaken too soon, wake when they +may--ha, ha!" + +"Peace!" cried Luke; "you blight everything--even this smiling landscape +you would turn to gloom. Does not this morn awaken a happier train of +thoughts within your mind? With me it makes amends for want of sleep, +effaces resentment, and banishes every black misgiving. 'Tis a joyous +thing thus to scour the country at earliest dawn; to catch all the +spirit and freshness of the morning; to be abroad before the lazy world +is half awake; to make the most of a brief existence; and to have spent +a day of keen enjoyment, almost before the day begins with some. I like +to anticipate the rising of the glorious luminary; to watch every line +of light changing, as at this moment, from shuddering gray to blushing +rose! See how the heavens are dyed! Who would exchange yon gorgeous +spectacle," continued he, pointing towards the east, and again urging +his horse to full speed down the hill, endangering the sexton's seat, +and threatening to impale him upon the crupper of the saddle--"who would +exchange that sight, and the exhilarating feeling of this fresh morn, +for a couch of eiderdown, and a headache in reversion?" + +"I for one," returned the sexton, sharply, "would willingly exchange it +for that, or any other couch, provided it rid me of this accursed +crupper, which galls me sorely. Moderate your pace, grandson Luke, or I +must throw myself off the horse in self-defence." + +Luke slackened his charger's pace, in compliance with the sexton's wish. + +"Ah! well," continued Peter, restored in a measure to comfort; "now I +can contemplate the sunrise, which you laud, somewhat at mine ease. 'Tis +a fine sight, I doubt not, to the eyes of youth; and, to the sanguine +soul of him upon whom life itself is dawning, is, I dare say, +inspiriting: but when the heyday of existence is past; when the blood +flows sluggishly in the veins; when one has known the desolating storms +which the brightest sunrise has preceded, the seared heart refuses to +trust its false glitter; and, like the experienced sailor, sees oft in +the brightest skies a forecast of the tempest. To such a one, there can +be no new dawn of the heart; no sun can gild its cold and cheerless +horizon; no breeze can revive pulses that have long since ceased to +throb with any chance emotion. I am too old to feel freshness in this +nipping air. It chills me more than the damps of night, to which I am +accustomed. Night--midnight! is my season of delight. Nature is instinct +then with secrets dark and dread. There is a language which he who +sleepeth not, but will wake, and watch, may haply learn. Strange organs +of speech hath the invisible world; strange language doth it talk; +strange communion hold with him who would pry into its mysteries. It +talks by bat and owl--by the grave-worm, and by each crawling thing--by +the dust of graves, as well as by those that rot therein--but ever doth +it discourse by night, and specially when the moon is at the full. 'Tis +the lore I have then learned that makes that season dear to me. Like +your cat, mine eye expands in darkness. I blink at the sunshine, like +your owl." + +"Cease this forbidding strain," returned Luke; "it sounds as harshly as +your own screech-owl's cry. Let your thoughts take a more sprightly +turn, more in unison with my own and the fair aspect of nature." + +"Shall I direct them to the gipsies' camp, then?" said Peter, with a +sneer. "Do your own thoughts tend thither?" + +"You are not altogether in the wrong," replied Luke. "I _was_ thinking +of the gipsies' camp, and of one who dwells amongst its tents." + +"I knew it," replied Peter. "Did you hope to deceive me by attributing +all your joyousness of heart to the dawn? Your thoughts have been +wandering all this while upon one who hath, I will engage, a pair of +sloe-black eyes, an olive skin, and yet withal a clear one--'black, yet +comely, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon'--a mesh of +jetty hair, that hath entangled you in its network--ripe lips, and a +cunning tongue--one of the plagues of Egypt.--Ha, ha!" + +"You have guessed shrewdly," replied Luke; "I care not to own that my +thoughts were so occupied." + +"I was assured of it," replied the sexton. "And what may be the name of +her towards whom your imagination was straying?" + +"Sibila Perez," replied Luke. "Her father was a Spanish Gitano. She is +known amongst her people by her mother's name of Lovel." + +"She is beautiful, of course?" + +"Ay, very beautiful!--but no matter! You shall judge of her charms +anon." + +"I will take your word for them," returned the sexton; "and you love +her?" + +"Passionately." + +"You are not married?" asked Peter, hastily. + +"Not as yet," replied Luke; "but my faith is plighted." + +"Heaven be praised! The mischief is not then irreparable. I would have +you married--though not to a gipsy girl." + +"And whom would you select?" + +"One before whom Sybil's beauty would pale as stars at day's approach." + +"There lives not such a one." + +"Trust me there does. Eleanor Mowbray is lovely beyond parallel. I was +merely speculating upon a possibility when I wished her yours--it is +scarcely likely she would cast her eyes upon you." + +"I shall not heed her neglect. Graced with my title, I doubt not, were +it my pleasure to seek a bride amongst those of gentle blood, I should +not find all indifferent to my suit." + +"Possibly not. Yet what might weigh with others, would not weigh with +her. There are qualities you lack which she has discovered in another." + +"In whom?" + +"In Ranulph Rookwood." + +"Is _he_ her suitor?" + +"I have reason to think so." + +"And you would have me abandon my own betrothed love, to beguile from my +brother his destined bride? That were to imitate the conduct of my +grandsire, the terrible Sir Reginald, towards _his_ brother Alan." + +The sexton answered not, and Luke fancied he could perceive a quivering +in the hands that grasped his body for support. There was a brief pause +in their conversation. + +"And who is Eleanor Mowbray?" asked Luke, breaking the silence. + +"Your cousin. On the mother's side a Rookwood. 'Tis therefore I would +urge your union with her. There is a prophecy relating to your house, +which seems as though it would be fulfilled in your person and in hers: + + When the stray Rook shall perch on the topmost bough, + There shall be clamor and screaming, I trow; + But of right, and of rule, of the ancient nest, + The Rook that with Rook mates shall hold him possest." + +"I place no faith in such fantasies," replied Luke; "and yet the lines +bear strangely upon my present situation." + +"Their application to yourself and Eleanor Mowbray is unquestionable," +replied the sexton. + +"It would seem so, indeed," rejoined Luke; and he again sank into +abstraction, from which the sexton did not care to arouse him. + +The aspect of the country had materially changed since their descent of +the hill. In place of the richly-cultivated district which lay on the +other side, a broad brown tract of waste land spread out before them, +covered with scattered patches of gorse, stunted fern, and low +brushwood, presenting an unvaried surface of unbaked turf. The shallow +coat of sod was manifested by the stones that clattered under the +horse's hoofs as he rapidly traversed the arid soil, clearing with ease +to himself, though not without discomfort to the sexton, every gravelly +trench, natural chasm, or other inequality of ground that occurred in +his course. Clinging to his grandson with the tenacity of a bird of +prey, Peter for some time kept his station in security; but, unluckily, +at one dike rather wider than the rest, the horse, owing possibly to the +mismanagement, intentional or otherwise, of Luke, swerved; and the +sexton, dislodged from his "high estate," fell at the edge of the +trench, and rolled incontinently to the bottom. + +Luke drew in the rein to inquire if any bones were broken; and Peter +presently upreared his dusty person from the abyss, and without +condescending to make any reply, yet muttering curses, "not loud, but +deep," accepted his grandson's proffered hand, and remounted. + +While thus occupied, Luke fancied he heard a distant shout, and noting +whence the sound proceeded--the same quarter by which he had approached +the heath--he beheld a single horseman spurring in their direction at +the top of his speed; and to judge from the rate at which he advanced, +it was evident he was anything but indifferently mounted. Apprehensive +of pursuit, Luke expedited the sexton's ascent; and that accomplished, +without bestowing further regard upon the object of his solicitude, he +resumed his headlong flight. He now thought it necessary to bestow more +attention on his choice of road, and, perfectly acquainted with the +heath, avoided all unnecessary hazardous passes. In spite of his +knowledge of the ground, and the excellence of his horse, the stranger +sensibly gained upon him. The danger, however, was no longer imminent. + +"We are safe," cried Luke; "the limits of Hardchase are past. In a few +seconds we shall enter Davenham Wood. I will turn the horse loose, and +we will betake ourselves to flight amongst the trees. I will show you a +place of concealment. He cannot follow us on horseback, and on foot I +defy him." + +"Stay," cried the sexton. "He is not in pursuit--he takes another +course--he wheels to the right. By Heaven! it is the Fiend himself upon +a black horse, come for Bow-legged Ben. See, he is there already." + +The horseman had turned, as the sexton stated, careering towards a +revolting object at some little distance on the right hand. It was a +gibbet, with its grisly burden. He rode swiftly towards it, and, reining +in his horse, took off his hat, bowing profoundly to the carcase that +swung in the morning breeze. Just at that moment a gust of air catching +the fleshless skeleton, its arms seemed to be waved in reply to the +salutation. A solitary crow winged its flight over the horseman's head +as he paused. After a moment's halt, he wheeled about, and again shouted +to Luke, waving his hat. + +"As I live," said the latter, "it is Jack Palmer." + +"Dick Turpin, you mean," rejoined the sexton. "He has been paying his +respects to a brother blade. Ha, ha! Dick will never have the honor of a +gibbet; he is too tender of the knife. Did you mark the crow? But here +he comes." And in another instant Turpin was by their side. + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_A GIPSY ENCAMPMENT_ + + I see a column of slow-rising smoke + O'ertop the lofty wood, that skirts the wild. + + COWPER: _The Task_. + + +"The top of the morning to you, gem'men," said Turpin, as he rode up at +an easy canter. "Did you not hear my halloo? I caught a glimpse of you +on the hill yonder. I knew you both, two miles off; and so, having a +word or two to say to you, Luke Bradley, before I leave this part of the +country, I put Bess to it, and she soon brought me within hail. Bless +her black skin," added he, affectionately patting his horse's neck, +"there's not her match in these parts, or in any other; she wants no +coaxing to do her work--no bleeders for her. I should have been up with +you before this had I not taken a cross cut to look at poor Ben. + + One night, when mounted on my mare. + To Bagshot Heath I did repair, + And saw Will Davies hanging there, + Upon the gibbet bleak and bare, + _With a rustified, fustified, mustified air._ + +Excuse my singing. The sight of a gibbet always puts me in mind of the +Golden Farmer. May I ask whither you are bound, comrades?" + +"Comrades!" whispered the sexton to Luke; "you see _he_ does not so +easily forget his old friends." + +"I have business that will not admit of delay," rejoined Luke; "and to +speak plainly----" + +"You want not my society," returned Turpin; "I guessed as much. Natural +enough! You have got an inkling of your good fortune. You have found out +you are a rich man's heir, not a poor wench's bastard. No offence; I'm a +plain spoken man, as you will find, if you know it not already. I have +no objection to your playing these fine tricks on others, though it +won't answer your turn to do so with me." + +"Sir!" exclaimed Luke, sharply. + +"Sir to you," replied Turpin--"Sir Luke--as I suppose you would now +choose to be addressed. I am aware of all. A nod is as good as a wink to +me. Last night I learned the fact of Sir Piers's marriage from Lady +Rookwood--ay, from her ladyship. You stare--and old Peter, there, opens +his ogles now. She let it out by accident; and I am in possession of +what can alone substantiate your father's first marriage, and establish +your claims to the property." + +"The devil!" cried the sexton; adding, in a whisper to Luke, "You had +better not be precipitate in dropping so obliging an acquaintance." + +"You are jesting," said Luke to Turpin. + +"It is ill jesting before breakfast," returned Dick: "I am seldom in the +mood for a joke so early. What if a certain marriage certificate had +fallen into my hand?" + +"A marriage certificate!" echoed Luke and the sexton simultaneously. + +"The only existing proof of the union of Sir Piers Rookwood with Susan +Bradley," continued Turpin. "What if I had stumbled upon such a +document--nay more, if I knew where to direct you to it?" + +"Peace!" cried Luke to his tormentor; and then addressing Turpin, "if +what you say be true, my quest is at an end. All that I need, you appear +to possess. Other proofs are secondary to this. I know with whom I have +to deal. What do you demand for that certificate?" + +"We will talk about the matter after breakfast," said Turpin. "I wish to +treat with you as friend with friend. Meet me on those terms, and I am +your man; reject my offer, and I turn my mare's head, and ride back to +Rookwood. With me now rest all your hopes. I have dealt fairly with you, +and I expect to be fairly dealt with in return. It were idle to say, now +I have an opportunity, that I should not turn this luck to my account. I +were a fool to do otherwise. You cannot expect it. And then I have Rust +and Wilder to settle with. Though I have left them behind, they know my +destination. We have been old associates. I like your spirit--I care not +for your haughtiness; but I will not help you up the ladder to be kicked +down myself. Now you understand me. Whither are you bound?" + +"To Davenham Priory, the gipsy camp." + +"The gipsies are your friends?" + +"They are." + +"I am alone." + +"You are safe." + +"You pledge your word that all shall be on the square. You will not +mention to one of that canting crew what I have told you?" + +"With one exception, you may rely upon my secrecy." + +"Whom do you except?" + +"A woman." + +"Bad! never trust a petticoat." + +"I will answer for her with my life." + +"And for your granddad there?" + +"He will answer for himself," said Peter. "You need not fear treachery +in me. Honor among thieves, you know." + +"Or where else should you seek it?" rejoined Turpin; "for it has left +all other classes of society. Your highwayman is your only man of honor. +I will trust you both; and you shall find you may trust me. After +breakfast, as I said before, we will bring the matter to a conclusion. +Tip us your daddle, Sir Luke, and I am satisfied. You shall rule in +Rookwood, I'll engage, ere a week be flown; and then---- But so much +parleying is dull work; let's make the best of our way to breakfast." + +And away they cantered. + +A narrow bridle-road conducted them singly through the defiles of a +thick wood. Their route lay in the shade, and the air felt chilly amidst +the trees, the sun not having attained sufficient altitude to penetrate +its depths, while overhead all was warmth and light. Quivering on the +tops of the timber, the horizontal sunbeams created, in their +refraction, brilliant prismatic colorings, and filled the air with motes +like golden dust. Our horsemen heeded not the sunshine or the shade. +Occupied each with his own train of thought, they silently rode on. + +Davenham Wood, through which they urged their course, had, in the olden +time, been a forest of some extent. It was then an appendage to the +domains of Rookwood, but had passed from the hands of that family to +those of a wealthy adjoining landowner and lawyer, Sir Edward Davenham, +in the keeping of whose descendants it had ever after continued. A noble +wood it was, and numbered many patriarchal trees. Ancient oaks, with +broad, gnarled limbs, which the storms of five hundred years had vainly +striven to uproot, and which were now sternly decaying; gigantic beech +trees, with silvery stems shooting smoothly upwards, sustaining branches +of such size, that each, dissevered, would in itself have formed a tree, +populous with leaves, and variegated with rich autumnal tints; the +sprightly sycamore, the dark chestnut, the weird wych-elm, the majestic +elm itself, festooned with ivy, every variety of wood, dark, dense, and +intricate, composed the forest through which they rode; and so +multitudinous was the timber, so closely planted, so entirely filled up +with a thick, matted vegetation, which had been allowed to collect +beneath, that little view was afforded, had any been desired by the +parties, into the labyrinth of the grove. Tree after tree, clad in the +glowing livery of the season, was passed, and as rapidly succeeded by +others. Occasionally a bough projected over their path, compelling the +riders to incline their heads as they passed; but, heedless of such +difficulties, they pressed on. Now the road grew lighter, and they +became at once sensible of the genial influence of the sun. The +transition was as agreeable as instantaneous. They had opened upon an +extensive plantation of full-grown pines, whose tall, branchless stems +grew up like a forest of masts, and freely admitted the pleasant +sunshine. Beneath those trees, the soil was sandy and destitute of all +undergrowth, though covered with brown, hair-like fibres and dry cones, +shed by the pines. The agile squirrel, that freest denizen of the grove, +starting from the ground as the horsemen galloped on, sprang up the +nearest tree, and might be seen angrily gazing at the disturbers of his +haunts, beating the branches with his fore feet, in expression of +displeasure; the rabbit darted across their path; the jays flew +screaming amongst the foliage; the blue cushat, scared at the clatter of +the horses' hoofs, sped on swift wing into quarters secure from their +approach; while the parti-colored pies, like curious village gossips, +congregated to peer at the strangers, expressing their astonishment by +loud and continuous chattering. Though so gentle of ascent as to be +almost imperceptible, it was still evident that the path they were +pursuing gradually mounted a hill-side; and when at length they reached +an opening, the view disclosed the eminence they had insensibly won. +Pausing for a moment upon the brow of the hill, Luke pointed to a stream +that wound through the valley, and, tracing its course, indicated a +particular spot amongst the trees. There was no appearance of a +dwelling house--no cottage roof, no white canvas shed, to point out the +tents of the wandering tribe whose abode they were seeking. The only +circumstance betokening that it had once been the haunt of man were a +few gray monastic ruins, scarce distinguishable from the stony barrier +by which they were surrounded; and the sole evidence that it was still +frequented by human beings was a thin column of pale blue smoke, that +arose in curling wreaths from out the brake, the light-colored vapor +beautifully contrasting with the green umbrage whence it issued. + +"Our destination is yonder," exclaimed Luke, pointing in the direction +of the vapor. + +"I am glad to hear it," cried Turpin, "as well as to perceive there is +some one awake. That smoke holds out a prospect of breakfast. No smoke +without fire, as old Lady Scanmag said; and I'll wager a trifle that +fire was not lighted for the fayter fellows to count their fingers by. +We shall find three sticks, and a black pot with a kid seething in it, +I'll engage. These gipsies have picked out a prettyish spot to quarter +in--quite picturesque, as one may say--and but for that tell-tale smoke, +which looks for all the world like a Dutch skipper blowing his morning +cloud, no one need know of their vicinity. A pretty place, upon my +soul." + +The spot, in sooth, merited Turpin's eulogium. It was a little valley, +in the midst of wooded hills, so secluded, that not a single habitation +appeared in view. Clothed with timber to the very summits, excepting on +the side where the party stood, which verged upon the declivity, these +mountainous ridges presented a broken outline of foliage, variegated +with tinted masses of bright orange, timber, and deepest green. Four +hills hemmed in the valley. Here and there a gray slab of rock might be +discerned amongst the wood, and a mountain-ash figured conspicuously +upon a jutting crag immediately below them. Deep sunken in the ravine, +and concealed in part from view by the wild herbage and dwarf shrubs, +ran a range of precipitous rocks, severed, it would seem, by some +diluvial convulsion, from the opposite mountain side, as a corresponding +rift was there visible, in which the same dip of strata might be +observed, together with certain ribbed cavities, matching huge bolts of +rock which had once locked these stony walls together. Washing this +cliff, swept a clear stream, well known and well regarded, as it waxed +in width, by the honest brethren of the angle, who seldom, however, +tracked it to its rise amongst these hills. The stream found its way +into the valley through a chasm far to the left, and rushed thundering +down the mountain side in a boiling cascade. The valley was approached +in this direction from Rookwood by an unfrequented carriage-road, which +Luke had, from prudential reasons, avoided. All seemed consecrated to +silence--to solitude--to the hush of nature; yet this quiet scene was +the chosen retreat of lawless depredators, and had erstwhile been the +theatre of feudal oppression. We have said that no habitation was +visible; that no dwelling tenanted by man could be seen; but following +the spur of the furthest mountain hill, some traces of a stone wall +might be discovered; and upon a natural platform of rock stood a stern +square tower, which had once been the donjon of the castle, the lords of +which had called the four hills their own. A watch-tower then had +crowned each eminence, every vestige of which had, however, long since +disappeared. Sequestered in the vale stood the Priory before alluded +to--a Monastery of Gray Friars, of the Order of St. Francis--some of the +venerable walls of which were still remaining; and if they had not +reverted to the bat and the owl, as is wont to be the fate of such +sacred structures, their cloistered shrines were devoted to beings whose +natures partook, in some measure, of the instincts of those creatures of +the night--a people whose deeds were of darkness, and whose eyes shunned +the light. Here the gipsies had pitched their tent; and though the place +was often, in part, deserted by the vagrant horde, yet certain of the +tribe, who had grown into years--over whom Barbara Lovel held queenly +sway--made it their haunt, and were suffered by the authorities of the +neighborhood to remain unmolested--a lenient piece of policy, which, in +our infinite regard for the weal of the tawny tribe, we recommend to the +adoption of all other justices and knights of the shire. + +Bidding his grandsire have regard to his seat, Luke leaped a high bank; +and, followed by Turpin, began to descend the hill. Peter, however, took +care to provide for himself. The descent was so perilous, and the +footing so insecure, that he chose rather to trust to such conveyance as +nature had furnished him with, than to hazard his neck by any false step +of the horse. He contrived, therefore, to slide off from behind, shaping +his own course in a more secure direction. + +He who has wandered amidst the Alps must have often had occasion to +witness the wonderful surefootedness of that mountain pilot, the mule. +He must have remarked how, with tenacious hoof, he will claw the rock, +and drag himself from one impending fragment to another, with perfect +security to his rider; how he will breast the roaring currents of air, +and stand unshrinking at the verge of almost unfathomable ravines. But +it is not so with the horse: fleet on the plain, careful over rugged +ground, he is timid and uncertain on the hill-side, and the risk +incurred by Luke and Turpin, in their descent of the almost +perpendicular sides of the cliff, was tremendous. Peter watched them in +their descent with some admiration, and with much contempt. + +"He will break his neck, of a surety," said he; "but what matters it? As +well now as hereafter." + +So saying, he approached the verge of the precipice, where he could see +them more distinctly. + +The passage along which Luke rode had never before been traversed by +horse's hoof. Cut in the rock, it presented a steep zigzag path amongst +the cliffs, without any defence for the foot traveller, except such as +was afforded by a casual clinging shrub, and no protection whatever +existed for a horseman; the possibility of any one attempting the +passage not having, in all probability, entered into the calculation of +those who framed it. Added to this, the steps were of such unequal +heights, and withal so narrow, that the danger was proportionately +increased. + +"Ten thousand devils!" cried Turpin, staring downwards, "is this the +best road you have got?" + +"You will find one more easy," replied Luke, "if you ride for a quarter +of a mile down the wood, and then return by the brook side. You will +meet me at the priory." + +"No," answered the highwayman, boldly; "if you go, I go too. It shall +never be said that Dick Turpin was afraid to follow where another would +lead. Proceed." + +Luke gave his horse the bridle, and the animal slowly and steadily +commenced the descent, fixing his fore legs upon the steps, and drawing +his hinder limbs carefully after him. Here it was that the lightness and +steadiness of Turpin's mare was completely shown. No Alpine mule could +have borne its rider with more apparent ease and safety. Turpin +encouraged her by hand and word; but she needed it not. The sexton saw +them, and, tracking their giddy descent, he became more interested than +he anticipated. His attention was suddenly drawn towards Luke. + +"He is gone," cried Peter. "He falls--he sinks--my plans are all +defeated--the last link is snapped. No," added he, recovering his wonted +composure, "his end is not so fated." + +Rook had missed his footing. He rolled stumbling down the precipice a +few yards. Luke's fate seemed inevitable. His feet were entangled in the +stirrup, he could not free himself. A birch tree, growing in a chink of +the precipice, arrested his further fall. But for this timely aid all +had been over. Here Luke was enabled to extricate himself from the +stirrup and to regain his feet; seizing the bridle, he dragged his +faulty steed back again to the road. + +"You have had a narrow escape, by Jove," said Turpin, who had been +thunderstruck with the whole proceeding. "Those big cattle are always +clumsy; devilish lucky it's no worse." + +It was now comparatively smooth travelling; but they had not as yet +reached the valley, and it seemed to be Luke's object to take a +circuitous path. This was so evident that Turpin could not help +commenting upon it. + +Luke evaded the question. "The crag is steep there," said he; "besides, +to tell you the truth, I want to surprise them." + +"Ho, ho!" laughed Dick. "Surprise them, eh? What a pity the birch tree +was in the way; you would have done it properly then. Egad, here's +another surprise." + +Dick's last exclamation was caused by his having suddenly come upon a +wide gully in the rock, through which dashed a headlong torrent, crossed +by a single plank. + +"You must be mad to have taken this road," cried Turpin, gazing down +into the roaring depths in which the waterfall raged, and measuring the +distance of the pass with his eye. "So, so, Bess!--Ay, look at it, +wench. Curse me, Luke, if I think your horse will do it, and, therefore, +turn him loose." + +But Dick might as well have bidden the cataract to flow backwards. Luke +struck his heels into his horse's sides. The steed galloped to the +brink, snorted, and refused the leap. + +"I told you so--he can't do it," said Turpin. "Well, if you are +obstinate, a wilful man must have his way. Stand aside, while I try it +for you." Patting Bess, he put her to a gallop. She cleared the gulf +bravely, landing her rider safely upon the opposite rock. + +"Now then," cried Turpin, from the other side of the chasm. + +Luke again urged his steed. Encouraged by what he had seen, this time +the horse sprang across without hesitation. The next instant they were +in the valley. + +For some time they rode along the banks of the stream in silence. A +sound at length caught the quick ears of the highwayman. + +"Hist!" cried he; "some one sings. Do you hear it?" + +"I do," replied Luke, the blood rushing to his cheeks. + +"And could give a guess at the singer, no doubt," said Turpin, with a +knowing look. "Was it to hear yon woodlark that you nearly broke your +own neck, and put mine in jeopardy?" + +"Prithee be silent," whispered Luke. + +"I am dumb," replied Turpin; "I like a sweet voice as well as another." + +Clear as the note of a bird, yet melancholy as the distant dole of a +vesper-bell, arose the sound of that sweet voice from the wood. A +fragment of a Spanish gipsy song it warbled: Luke knew it well. Thus ran +the romance: + + LA GITANILLA + + By the Guadalquivir, + Ere the sun be flown, + By that glorious river + Sits a maid alone. + Like the sunset splendor + Of that current bright, + Shone her dark eyes tender + As its witching light. + Like the ripple flowing, + Tinged with purple sheen, + Darkly, richly glowing, + Is her warm cheek seen. + 'Tis the Gitanilla + By the stream doth linger, + In the hope that eve + Will her lover bring her. + + See, the sun is sinking; + All grows dim, and dies; + See, the waves are drinking + Glories of the skies. + Day's last lustre playeth + On that current dark; + Yet no speck betrayeth + His long looked-for bark. + 'Tis the hour of meeting! + Nay, the hour is past; + Swift the time is fleeting! + Fleeteth hope as fast. + Still the Gitanilla + By the stream doth linger, + In the hope that night + Will her lover bring her. + +The tender trembling of a guitar was heard in accompaniment of the +ravishing melodist. + +The song ceased. + +"Where is the bird?" asked Turpin. + +"Move on in silence, and you shall see," said Luke; and keeping upon the +turf, so that his horse's tread became inaudible, he presently arrived +at a spot where, through the boughs, the object of his investigation +could plainly be distinguished, though he himself was concealed from +view. + +Upon a platform of rock, rising to the height of the trees, nearly +perpendicularly from the river's bed, appeared the figure of the gipsy +maid. Her footstep rested on the extreme edge of the abrupt cliff, at +whose base the water boiled in a deep whirlpool, and the bounding +chamois could not have been more lightly poised. One small hand rested +upon her guitar, the other pressed her brow. Braided hair, of the +jettiest dye and sleekest texture, was twined around her brow in endless +twisted folds: + + Rowled it was in many a curious fret, + Much like a rich and curious coronet, + Upon whose arches twenty Cupids lay, + And were as tied, or loth to fly away.[24] + +And so exuberant was this rarest feminine ornament, that, after +encompassing her brow, it was passed behind, and hung down in long thick +plaits almost to her feet. Sparkling, as the sunbeams that played upon +her dark yet radiant features, were the large, black, Oriental eyes of +the maiden, and shaded with lashes long and silken. Hers was a Moorish +countenance, in which the magnificence of the eyes eclipses the face, be +it ever so beautiful--an effect to be observed in the angelic pictures +of Murillo,--and the lovely contour is scarcely noticed in the gaze +which those long, languid, luminous orbs attract. Sybil's features were +exquisite, yet you looked only at her eyes--they were the loadstars of +her countenance. Her costume was singular, and partook, like herself, of +other climes. Like the Andalusian dame, her choice of color inclined +towards black, as the material of most of her dress was of that sombre +hue. A bodice of embroidered velvet restrained her delicate bosom's +swell; a rich girdle, from which depended a silver chain, sustaining a +short poniard, bound her waist; around her slender throat was twined a +costly kerchief; and the rest of her dress was calculated to display her +slight, yet faultless, figure to the fullest advantage. + +Unconscious that she was the object of regard, she raised her guitar, +and essayed to touch the chords. She struck a few notes, and resumed her +romance: + + Swift that stream flows on, + Swift the night is wearing,-- + Yet she is not gone, + Though with heart despairing. + +Her song died away. Her hand was needed to brush off the tears that were +gathering in her large dark eyes. At once her attitude was changed. The +hare could not have started more suddenly from her form. She heard +accents well known concluding the melody: + + Dips an oar-plash--hark!-- + Gently on the river; + 'Tis her lover's bark. + On the Guadalquivir. + Hark! a song she hears! + Every note she snatches; + As the singer nears, + Her own name she catches. + Now the Gitanilla + Stays not by the water, + For the midnight hour + Hath her lover brought her. + +It was her lover's voice. She caught the sound at once, and, starting, +as the roe would arouse herself at the hunter's approach, bounded down +the crag, and ere he had finished the refrain, was by his side. + +Flinging the bridle to Turpin, Luke sprang to her, and caught her in his +arms. Disengaging herself from his ardent embrace, Sybil drew back, +abashed at the sight of the highwayman. + +"Heed him not," said Luke; "it is a friend." + +"He is welcome here then," replied Sybil. "But where have you tarried so +long, dear Luke?" continued she, as they walked to a little distance +from the highwayman. "What hath detained you? The hours have passed +wearily since you departed. You bring good news?" + +"Good news, my girl; so good, that I falter even in the telling of it. +You shall know all anon. And see, our friend yonder grows impatient. Are +there any stirring? We must bestow a meal upon him, and that forthwith: +he is one of those who brook not much delay." + +"I came not to spoil a love meeting," said Turpin, who had +good-humoredly witnessed the scene; "but, in sober seriousness, if there +is a stray capon to be met with in the land of Egypt, I shall be glad to +make his acquaintance. Methinks I scent a stew afar off." + +"Follow me," said Sybil; "your wants shall be supplied." + +"Stay," said Luke; "there is one other of our party whose coming we must +abide." + +"He is here," said Sybil, observing the sexton at a distance. "Who is +that old man?" + +"My grandsire, Peter Bradley." + +"Is that Peter Bradley?" asked Sybil. + +"Ay, you may well ask whether that old dried-up _otomy_, who ought to +grin in a glass case for folks to stare at, be kith and kin of such a +bang-up cove as your fancy man, Luke," said Turpin, laughing--"but i' +faith he is." + +"Though he is your grandsire, Luke," said Sybil, "I like him not. His +glance resembles that of the Evil Eye." + +And, in fact, the look which Peter fixed upon her was such as the +rattlesnake casts upon its victim, and Sybil felt like a poor fluttering +bird under the fascination of that venomous reptile. She could not +remove her eyes from his, though she trembled as she gazed. We have said +that Peter's orbs were like those of the toad. Age had not dimmed their +brilliancy. In his harsh features you could only read bitter scorn or +withering hate; but in his eyes resided a magnetic influence of +attraction or repulsion. Sybil underwent the former feeling in a +disagreeable degree. She was drawn to him as by the motion of a +whirlpool, and involuntarily clung to her lover. + +"It is the Evil Eye, dear Luke." + +"Tut, tut, dear Sybil; I tell you it is my grandsire." + +"The girl says rightly, however," rejoined Turpin; "Peter has a +confounded ugly look about the ogles, and stares enough to put a modest +wench out of countenance. Come, come, my old earthworm, crawl along, we +have waited for you long enough. Is this the first time you have seen a +pretty lass, eh?" + +"It is the first time I have seen one so beautiful," said Peter; "and I +crave her pardon if my freedom has offended her. I wonder not at your +enchantment, grandson Luke, now I behold the object of it. But there is +one piece of counsel I would give to this fair maid. The next time she +trusts you from her sight, I would advise her to await you at the +hill-top, otherwise the chances are shrewdly against your reaching the +ground with neck unbroken." + +There was something, notwithstanding the satirical manner in which Peter +delivered this speech, calculated to make a more favorable impression +upon Sybil than his previous conduct had inspired her with; and, having +ascertained from Luke to what his speech referred, she extended her hand +to him, yet not without a shudder, as it was enclosed in his skinny +grasp. It was like the fingers of Venus in the grasp of a skeleton. + +"This is a little hand," said Peter, "and I have some skill myself in +palmistry. Shall I peruse its lines?" + +"Not now, in the devil's name!" said Turpin, stamping impatiently. "We +shall have Old Ruffin himself amongst us presently, if Peter Bradley +grows gallant." + +Leading their horses, the party took their way through the trees. A few +minutes' walking brought them in sight of the gipsy encampment, the spot +selected for which might be termed the Eden of the valley. It was a +small green plain, smooth as a well-shorn lawn, kept ever verdant--save +in the spots where the frequent fires had scorched its surface--by the +flowing stream that rushed past it, and surrounded by an amphitheatre of +wooded hills. Here might be seen the canvas tent with its patches of +varied coloring; the rude-fashioned hut of primitive construction; the +kettle slung + + Between two poles, upon a stick transverse; + +the tethered beasts of burden, the horses, asses, dogs, carts, caravans, +wains, blocks, and other movables and immovables belonging to the +wandering tribe. Glimmering through the trees, at the extremity of the +plain, appeared the ivy-mantled walls of Davenham Priory. Though much +had gone to decay, enough remained to recall the pristine state of this +once majestic pile, and the long, though broken line of Saxon arches, +that still marked the cloister wall; the piers that yet supported the +dormitory; the enormous horse-shoe arch that spanned the court; and, +above all, the great marigold, or circular window, which terminated the +chapel, and which, though now despoiled of its painted honors, retained, +like the skeleton leaf, its fibrous intricacies entire,--all eloquently +spoke of the glories of the past, while they awakened reverence and +admiration for the still enduring beauty of the present. + +Towards these ruins Sybil conducted the party. + +"Do you dwell therein?" asked Peter, pointing towards the priory. + +"That is my dwelling," said Sybil. + +"It is one I should covet more than a modern mansion," returned the +sexton. + +"I love those old walls better than any house that was ever fashioned," +replied Sybil. + +As they entered the Prior's Close, as it was called, several swarthy +figures made their appearance from the tents. Many a greeting was +bestowed upon Luke, in the wild jargon of the tribe. At length an +uncouth dwarfish figure, with a shock head of black hair, hopped towards +them. He seemed to acknowledge Luke as his master. + +"What ho! Grasshopper," said Luke, "take these horses, and see that they +lack neither dressing nor provender." + +"And hark ye, Grasshopper," added Turpin; "I give you a special charge +about this mare. Neither dress nor feed her till I see both done myself. +Just walk her for ten minutes, and if you have a glass of ale in the +place, let her sip it." + +"Your bidding shall be done," chirped the human insect, as he fluttered +away with his charges. + +A motley assemblage of tawny-skinned varlets, dark-eyed women and +children, whose dusky limbs betrayed their lineage, in strange costume, +and of wild deportment, checked the path, muttering welcome upon welcome +into the ear of Luke as he passed. As it was evident he was in no mood +for converse, Sybil, who seemed to exercise considerable authority over +the crew, with a word dispersed them, and they herded back to their +respective habitations. + +A low door admitted Luke and his companions into what had once been the +garden, in which some old moss-encrusted apple and walnut-trees were +still standing, bearing a look of antiquity almost as venerable as that +of the adjoining fabric. + +Another open door gave them entrance to a spacious chamber, formerly the +eating-room or refectory of the holy brotherhood, and a goodly room it +had been, though now its slender lanceolated windows were stuffed with +hay to keep out the air. Large holes told where huge oaken rafters had +once crossed the roof, and a yawning aperture marked the place where a +cheering fire had formerly blazed. As regarded this latter spot, the +good old custom was not, even now, totally abrogated. An iron plate, +covered with crackling wood, sustained a ponderous black caldron, the +rich steam from which gratefully affected the olfactory organs of the +highwayman. + +"That augurs well," said he, rubbing his hands. + +"Still hungering after the fleshpots of Egypt," said the sexton, with a +ghastly smile. + +"We will see what that kettle contains," said Luke. + +"Handassah--Grace!" exclaimed Sybil, calling. + +Her summons was answered by two maidens, habited not unbecomingly, in +gipsy gear. + +"Bring the best our larder can furnish," said Sybil, "and use despatch. +You have appetites to provide for, sharpened by a long ride in the open +air." + +"And by a night's fasting," said Luke, "and solitary confinement to +boot." + +"And a night of business," added Turpin--"and plaguy perplexing business +into the bargain." + +"And the night of a funeral too," doled Peter; "and that funeral a +father's. Let us have breakfast speedily, by all means. We have rare +appetites." + +An old oaken table--it might have been the self-same upon which the holy +friars had broken their morning fast--stood in the middle of the room. +The ample board soon groaned beneath the weight of the savory caldron, +the unctuous contents of which proved to be a couple of dismembered +pheasants, an equal proportion of poultry, great gouts of ham, +mushrooms, onions, and other piquant condiments, so satisfactory to Dick +Turpin, that, upon tasting a mouthful, he absolutely shed tears of +delight. The dish was indeed the triumph of gipsy cookery; and so +sedulously did Dick apply himself to his mess, and so complete was his +abstraction, that he perceived not he was left alone. It was only when +about to wash down the last drumstick of the last fowl with a can of +excellent ale that he made this discovery. + +"What! all gone? And Peter Bradley, too? What the devil does this mean?" +mused he. "I must not muddle my brain with any more Pharaoh, though I +have feasted like a king of Egypt. That will never do. Caution, Dick, +caution. Suppose I shift yon brick from the wall, and place this +precious document beneath it. Pshaw! Luke would never play me false. And +now for Bess! Bless her black skin! she'll wonder where I've been so +long. It's not my way to leave her to shift for herself, though she can +do that on a pinch." + +Soliloquizing thus, he arose and walked towards the door. + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_SYBIL_ + + The wiving vine, that round the friendly elm + Twines her soft limbs, and weaves a leafy mantle + For her supporting lover, dares not venture + To mix her humble boughs with the embraces + Of the more lofty cedar. + + GLAPTHORNE: _Albertus Wallenstein_. + + +Beneath a moldering wall, whither they had strayed, to be free from +interruption, and upon a carpet of the greenest moss, sat Sybil and her +lover. + +With eager curiosity she listened to his tale. He recounted all that had +befallen him since his departure. He told her of the awful revelations +of the tomb; of the ring that, like a talisman, had conjured up a +thousand brilliant prospects; of his subsequent perils; his escapes; his +rencontre with Lady Rookwood; his visit to his father's body; and his +meeting with his brother. All this she heard with a cheek now flushed +with expectation, now made pale with apprehension; with palpitating +bosom, and suppressed breath. But when taking a softer tone, love, +affection, happiness inspired the theme, and Luke sought to paint the +bliss that should be theirs in his new estate; when he would throw his +fortune into her lap, his titles at her feet, and bid her wear them with +him; when, with ennobled hand and unchanged heart, he would fulfil the +troth plighted in his outcast days; in lieu of tender, grateful +acquiescence, the features of Sybil became overcast, the soft smile +faded away, and, as spring sunshine is succeeded by the sudden shower, +the light that dwelt in her sunny orbs grew dim with tears. + +"Why--why is this, dear Sybil?" said Luke, gazing upon her in +astonishment, not unmingled with displeasure. "To what am I to attribute +these tears? You do not, surely, regret my good fortune?" + +"Not on your own account, dear Luke," returned she, sadly. "The tears I +shed were for myself--the first, the only tears that I have ever shed +for such cause; and," added she, raising her head like a flower +surcharged with moisture, "they shall be the last." + +"This is inexplicable, dear Sybil. Why should you lament for yourself, +if not for me? Does not the sunshine of prosperity that now shines upon +me gild you with the same beam? Did I not even now affirm that the day +that saw me enter the hall of my forefathers should dawn upon our +espousals?" + +"True; but the sun that shines upon you, to me wears a threatening +aspect. The day of those espousals will never dawn. You cannot make me +the Lady of Rookwood." + +"What do I hear?" exclaimed Luke, surprised at this avowal of his +mistress, sadly and deliberately delivered. "Not wed you! And wherefore +not? Is it the rank I have acquired, or hope to acquire, that displeases +you? Speak, that I may waste no further time in thus pursuing the +shadows of happiness, while the reality fleets from me." + +"And _are_ they shadows; and _is_ this the reality, dear Luke? Question +your secret soul, and you will find it otherwise. You could not forego +your triumph; it is not likely. You have dwelt too much upon the proud +title which will be yours to yield it to another, when it may be won so +easily. And, above all, when your mother's reputation, and your own +stained name, may be cleared by one word, breathed aloud, would you fail +to utter it? No, dear Luke, I read your heart; you would not." + +"And if I could _not_ forego this, wherefore is it that you refuse to be +a sharer in my triumph? Why will you render my honors valueless when I +have acquired them? You love me not." + +"Not love you, Luke?" + +"Approve it, then." + +"I do approve it. Bear witness the sacrifice I am about to make of all +my hopes, at the shrine of my idolatry to you. Bear witness the agony of +this hour. Bear witness the horror of the avowal, that I never can be +yours. As Luke Bradley, I would joyfully--oh, how joyfully!--have been +your bride. As Sir Luke Rookwood"--and she shuddered as she pronounced +the name--"I never can be so." + +"Then, by Heaven! Luke Bradley will I remain. But wherefore--wherefore +not as Sir Luke Rookwood?" + +"Because," replied Sybil, with reluctance--"because I am no longer your +equal. The gipsy's low-born daughter is no mate for Sir Luke Rookwood. +Love cannot blind me, dear Luke. It cannot make me other than I am; it +cannot exalt me in my own esteem, nor in that of the world, with which +you, alas! too soon will mingle, and which will regard even me as--no +matter what!--it shall not scorn me as your bride. I will not bring +shame and reproach upon you. Oh! if for me, dear Luke, the proud ones of +the earth were to treat you with contumely, this heart would break with +agony. For myself, I have pride sufficient--perchance too much. +Perchance 'tis pride that actuates me now. I know not. But for you I am +all weakness. As you were heretofore, I would have been to you the +tenderest and truest wife that ever breathed; as you are now----" + +"Hear me, Sybil." + +"Hear _me_ out, dear Luke. One other motive there is that determines my +present conduct, which, were all else surmounted, would in itself +suffice. Ask me not what that is. I cannot explain it. For your own +sake; I implore you, be satisfied with my refusal." + +"What a destiny is mine!" exclaimed Luke, striking his forehead with his +clenched hand. "No choice is left me. Either way I destroy my own +happiness. On the one hand stands love--on the other, ambition; yet +neither will conjoin." + +"Pursue, then, ambition," said Sybil, energetically, "if you _can_ +hesitate. Forget that I have ever existed; forget you have ever loved; +forget that such a passion dwells within the human heart, and you may +still be happy, though you are great." + +"And do you deem," replied Luke, with frantic impatience, "that I _can_ +accomplish this; that I _can_ forget that I have loved you; that I _can_ +forget you? Cost what it will, the effort shall be made. Yet by our +former love, I charge you tell me what has wrought this change in you! +Why do you _now_ refuse me?" + +"I have said you are Sir Luke Rookwood," returned Sybil, with painful +emotion. "Does that name import nothing?" + +"Imports it aught of ill?" + +"To me, everything of ill. It is a fated house. Its line are all +predestined." + +"To what?" demanded Luke. + +"To _murder_!" replied Sybil, with solemn emphasis. "To the murder of +their wives. Forgive me, Luke, if I have dared to utter this. Yourself +compelled me to it." + +Amazement, horror, wrath, kept Luke silent for a few moments. Starting +to his feet, he cried: + +"And can you suspect me of a crime so foul? Think you, because I shall +assume the name, that I shall put on the nature likewise of my race? Do +you believe me capable of aught so horrible?" + +"Oh, no, I believe it not. I am sure you would not do it. Your soul +would reject with horror such a deed. But if Fate should guide your +hand, if the avenging spirit of your murdered ancestress should point to +the steel, you could not shun it then." + +"In Heaven's name! to what do you allude?" + +"To a tradition of your house," replied Sybil. "Listen to me, and you +shall hear the legend." And with a pathos that produced a thrilling +effect upon Luke, she sang the following ballad: + + THE LEGEND OF THE LADY OF ROOKWOOD + + Grim Ranulph home hath at midnight come, from the long wars of the + Roses, + And the squire, who waits at his ancient gates, a secret dark + discloses; + To that varlet's words no response accords his lord, but his visage + stern + Grows ghastly white in the wan moonlight, and his eyes like the lean + wolf's burn. + + To his lady's bower, at that lonesome hour, unannounced, is Sir + Ranulph gone; + Through the dim corridor, through the hidden door, he glides--she is + all alone! + Full of holy zeal doth his young dame kneel at the meek Madonna's feet, + Her hands are pressed on her gentle breast, and upturned is her aspect + sweet. + + Beats Ranulph's heart with a joyful start, as he looks on her + guiltless face; + And the raging fire of his jealous ire is subdued by the words of + grace; + His own name shares her murmured prayers--more freely can he breathe; + But ah! that look! Why doth he pluck his poniard from its sheath? + + On a footstool thrown, lies a costly gown of saye and of minevere + --A mantle fair for the dainty wear of a migniard cavalier,-- + And on it flung, to a bracelet hung, a picture meets his eye; + "By my father's head!" grim Ranulph said, "false wife, thy end draws + nigh." + + From off its chain hath the fierce knight ta'en that fond and fatal + pledge; + His dark eyes blaze, no word he says, thrice gleams his dagger's edge! + Her blood it drinks, and, as she sinks, his victim hears his cry: + "For kiss impure of paramour, adult'ress, dost thou die!" + + Silent he stood, with hands embrued in gore, and glance of flame, + As thus her plaint, in accents faint, made his ill-fated dame: + "Kind Heaven can tell, that all too well, I've loved thee, cruel lord; + But now with hate commensurate, assassin, thou'rt abhorred. + + "I've loved thee long, through doubt and wrong; I've loved thee and + no other; + And my love was pure for my paramour, for alas! he was my brother! + The Red, Red Rose, on _thy_ banner glows, on _his_ pennon gleams the + White, + And the bitter feud, that ye both have rued, forbids ye to unite. + + "My bower he sought, what time he thought thy jealous vassals slept, + Of joy we dreamed, and never deemed that watch those vassals kept; + An hour flew by, too speedily!--that picture was his boon: + Ah! little thrift to me that gift: he left me all too soon! + + "Wo worth the hour! dark fates did lower, when our hands were first + united, + For my heart's firm truth, 'mid tears and ruth, with death hast thou + requited: + In prayer sincere, full many a year of my wretched life I've spent; + But to hell's control would I give my soul to work thy chastisement!" + + These wild words said, low drooped her head, and Ranulph's + life-blood froze, + For the earth did gape, as an awful shape from out its depths arose: + "Thy prayer is heard, Hell hath concurred," cried the fiend, "thy + soul is mine! + Like fate may dread each dame shall wed with Ranulph or his line!" + + Within the tomb to await her doom is that hapless lady sleeping, + And another bride by Ranulph's side through the livelong night is + weeping. + _This_ dame declines--a third repines, and fades, like the rest, away; + Her lot she rues, whom a Rookwood woos--_cursed is her Wedding Day_! + +"And this is the legend of my ancestress?" said Luke, as Sybil's strains +were ended. + +"It is," replied she. + +"An idle tale," observed Luke, moodily. + +"Not so," answered Sybil. "Has not the curse of blood clung to all your +line? Has it not attached to your father--to Sir Reginald--Sir +Ralph--Sir Ranulph--to all? Which of them has escaped it? And when I +tell you this, dear Luke; when I find you bear the name of this accursed +race, can you wonder if I shudder at adding to the list of the victims +of that ruthless spirit, and that I tremble for you? I would die _for_ +you willingly--but not by your hand. I would not that my blood, which I +would now pour out for you as freely as water, should rise up in +judgment against you. For myself I have no tears--for _you_, a thousand. +My mother, upon her death-bed, told me I should never be yours. I +believed her not, for I was happy then. She said that we never should be +united; or, if united----?" + +"What, in Heaven's name?" + +"That you would be my destroyer. How could I credit her words then? How +can I doubt them now, when I find you are a Rookwood? And think not, +dear Luke, that I am ruled by selfish fears in this resolution. To +renounce you may cost me my life; but the deed will be my own. You may +call me superstitious, credulous: I have been nurtured in credulity. It +is the faith of my fathers. There are those, methinks, who have an +insight into futurity; and such boding words have been spoken, that, be +they true or false, I will not risk their fulfilment in my person. I may +be credulous; I may be weak; I may be erring; but I am steadfast in +this. Bid me perish at your feet, and I will do it. I will not be your +Fate. I will not be the wretched instrument of your perdition. I will +love, worship, watch, serve, perish for you--but I'll not wed you." + +Exhausted by the vehemence of her emotion, she would have sunk upon the +ground, had not Luke caught her in his arms. Pressing her to his bosom, +he renewed his passionate protestations. Every argument was unavailing. +Sybil appeared inflexible. + +"You love me as you have ever loved me?" said she, at length. + +"A thousand-fold more fervently," replied Luke; "put it to the test." + +"How if I dare to do so? Consider well: I may ask too much." + +"Name it. If it be not to surrender you, by my mother's body I will obey +you." + +"I would propose an oath." + +"Ha!" + +"A solemn, binding oath, that; if you wed me not, you will not wed +another. Ha! do you start? Have I appalled you?" + +"I start? I will take it. Hear me--by----" + +"Hold!" exclaimed a voice behind them. "Do not forswear yourself." And +immediately afterwards the sexton made his appearance. There was a +malignant smile upon his countenance. The lovers started at the ominous +interruption. + +"Begone!" cried Luke. + +"Take not that oath," said Peter, "and I leave you. Remember the counsel +I gave you on our way hither." + +"What counsel did he give you, Luke?" inquired Sybil, eagerly, of her +lover. + +"We spoke of you, fond girl," replied Peter. "I cautioned him against +the match. I knew not your sentiments, or I had spared myself the +trouble. You have judged wisely. Were he to wed you, ill would come of +it. But he _must_ wed another." + +"MUST!" cried Sybil, her eyes absolutely emitting sparkles of +indignation from their night-like depths; and, unsheathing as she spoke +the short poniard which she wore at her girdle, she rushed towards +Peter, raising her hand to strike. + +"_Must_ wed another! And dare you counsel this?" + +"Put up your dagger, fair maiden," said Peter, calmly. "Had I been +younger, your eyes might have had more terrors for me than your weapon; +as it is, I am proof against both. You would not strike an old man like +myself, and of your lover's kin?" + +Sybil's uplifted hand fell to her side. + +"'Tis true," continued the sexton, "I dared to give him this advice; and +when you have heard me out, you will not, I am persuaded, think me so +unreasonable as, at first, I may appear to be. I have been an unseen +listener to your converse; not that I desire to pry into your +secrets--far from it; I overheard you by accident. I applaud your +resolution; but if you are inclined to sacrifice all for your lover's +weal, do not let the work be incomplete. Bind him not by oaths which he +will regard as spiders' webs, to be burst through at pleasure. You see, +as well as I do, that he is bent on being lord of Rookwood; and, in +truth, to an aspiring mind, such a desire is natural, is praiseworthy. +It will be pleasant, as well as honorable, to efface the stain cast upon +his birth. It will be an act of filial duty in him to restore his +mother's good name; and I, her father, laud his anxiety on that score; +though, to speak truth, fair maid, I am not so rigid as your nice +moralists in my view of human nature, and can allow a latitude to love +which their nicer scruples will not admit. It will be a proud thing to +triumph over his implacable foe; and this he may accomplish----" + +"Without marriage," interrupted Sybil, angrily. + +"True," returned Peter; "yet not maintain it. May win it, but not wear +it. You have said truly, the house of Rookwood is a fated house; and it +hath been said likewise, that if he wed not one of his own kindred--that +if Rook mate not with Rook, his possessions shall pass away from his +hands. Listen to this prophetic quatrain: + + When the stray Rook shall perch on the topmost bough, + There shall be clamor and screeching, I trow; + But of right to, and rule of the ancient nest, + The Rook that with Rook mates shall hold him possest. + +You hear what these quaint rhymes say. Luke is, doubtless, the stray +rook, and a fledgeling hath flown hither from a distant country. He must +take her to his mate, or relinquish her and 'the ancient nest' to his +brother. For my own part, I disregard such sayings. I have little faith +in prophecy and divination. I know not what Eleanor Mowbray, for so she +is called, can have to do with the tenure of the estates of Rookwood. +But if Luke Rookwood, after he has lorded it for awhile in splendor, be +cast forth again in rags and wretchedness, let him not blame his +grandsire for his own want of caution." + +"Luke, I implore you, tell me," said Sybil, who had listened, +horror-stricken, to the sexton, shuddering, as it were, beneath the +chilly influence of his malevolent glance, "is this true? Does your fate +depend upon Eleanor Mowbray? Who is she? What has she to do with +Rookwood? Have you seen her? Do you love her?" + +"I have never seen her," replied Luke. + +"Thank Heaven for that!" cried Sybil. "Then you love her not?" + +"How were that possible?" returned Luke. "Do I not say I have not seen +her?" + +"Who is she, then?" + +"This old man tells me she is my cousin. She is betrothed to my brother +Ranulph." + +"How?" ejaculated Sybil. "And would you snatch his betrothed from your +brother's arms? Would you do him this grievous wrong? Is it not enough +that you must wrest from him that which he has long deemed his own? And +if he has falsely deemed it so, it will not make his loss the less +bitter. If you do thus wrong your brother, do not look for happiness; do +not look for respect; for neither will be your portion. Even this +stony-hearted old man shrinks aghast at such a deed. His snake-like eyes +are buried on the ground. See, I have moved even _him_." + +And in truth Peter did appear, for an instant, strangely moved. + +"'Tis nothing," returned he, mastering his emotion by a strong effort. +"What is all this to me? I never had a brother. I never had aught--wife, +child, or relative, that loved me. And I love not the world, nor the +things of the world, nor those that inhabit the world. But I know what +sways the world and its inhabitants; and that is, SELF! AND +SELF-INTEREST! Let Luke reflect on this. The key to Rookwood is Eleanor +Mowbray. The hand that grasps hers, grasps those lands; thus saith the +prophecy." + +"It is a lying prophecy." + +"It was uttered by one of your race." + +"By whom?" + +"By Barbara Lovel," said Peter, with a sneer of triumph. + +"Ha!" + +"Heed him not," exclaimed Luke, as Sybil recoiled at this intelligence. +"I am yours." + +"Not mine! not mine!" shrieked she; "but, oh! not _hers_!" + +"Whither go you?" cried Luke, as Sybil, half bewildered, tore herself +from him. + +"To Barbara Lovel." + +"I will go with you." + +"No! let me go alone. I have much to ask her; yet tarry not with this +old man, dear Luke, or close your ears to his crafty talk. Avoid him. +Oh, I am sick at heart. Follow me not; I implore you, follow me not." + +And with distracted air she darted amongst the mouldering cloisters, +leaving Luke stupefied with anguish and surprise. The sexton maintained +a stern and stoical composure. + +"She is a woman, after all," muttered he; "all her high-flown resolves +melt like snow in the sunshine at the thought of a rival. I congratulate +you, grandson Luke; you are free from your fetters." + +"Free!" echoed Luke. "Quit my sight; I loathe to look upon you. You have +broken the truest heart that ever beat in woman's bosom." + +"Tut, tut," returned Peter; "it is not broken yet. Wait till we hear +what old Barbara has got to say; and, meanwhile, we must arrange with +Dick Turpin the price of that certificate. The knave knows its value +well. Come, be a man. This is worse than womanish." + +And at length he succeeded, half by force and half by persuasion, in +dragging Luke away with him. + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_BARBARA LOVEL_ + + Los Gitanos son encantadores, adivinos, magos, chyromanticos, que + dicen por las rayas de las manos lo Futuro, que ellos llaman + Buenaventura, y generalmente son dados a toda supersticion. + + DOCTOR SANCHO DE MONCADA. + _Discurso sobre Espulsion de los Gitanos._ + + +Like a dove escaped from the talons of the falcon, Sybil fled from the +clutches of the sexton. Her brain was in a whirl, her blood on fire. She +had no distinct perception of external objects; no definite notion of +what she herself was about to do, and glided more like a flitting spirit +than a living woman along the ruined ambulatory. Her hair had fallen in +disorder over her face. She stayed not to adjust it, but tossed aside +the blinding locks with frantic impatience. She felt as one may feel who +tries to strain his nerves, shattered by illness, to the endurance of +some dreadful, yet necessary pain. + +Sybil loved her granddame, old Barbara; but it was with a love tempered +by fear. Barbara was not a person to inspire esteem or to claim +affection. She was regarded by the wild tribe which she ruled as their +queen-elect, with some such feeling of inexplicable awe as is +entertained by the African slave for the Obeah woman. They acknowledged +her power, unhesitatingly obeyed her commands, and shrank with terror +from her anathema, which was indeed seldom pronounced; but when uttered, +was considered as doom. Her tribe she looked upon as her flock, and +stretched her maternal hand over all, ready alike to cherish or +chastise; and having already survived a generation, that which +succeeded, having from infancy imbibed a superstitious veneration for +the "cunning woman," as she was called, the sentiment could never be +wholly effaced. Winding her way, she knew not how, through roofless +halls, over disjointed fragments of fallen pillars, Sybil reached a +flight of steps. A door, studded with iron nails, stayed her progress; +it was an old, strong oaken frame, surmounted by a Gothic arch, in the +keystone of which leered one of those grotesque demoniacal faces with +which the fathers of the church delighted to adorn their shrines. Sybil +looked up--her glance encountered the fantastical visage. It recalled +the features of the sexton, and seemed to mock her--to revile her. Her +fortitude at once deserted her. Her fingers were upon the handle of the +door. She hesitated: she even drew back, with the intention of +departing, for she felt then that she dared not face Barbara. It was too +late--she had moved the handle. A deep voice from within called to her +by name. She dared not disobey that call--she entered. + +The room in which Sybil found herself was the only entire apartment now +existing in the priory. It had survived the ravages of time; it had +escaped the devastation of man, whose ravages outstrip those of time. +Octagonal, lofty, yet narrow, you saw at once that it formed the +interior of a turret. It was lighted by a small oriel window, commanding +a lovely view of the scenery around, and paneled with oak, richly +wrought in ribs and groins; and from overhead depended a molded ceiling +of honeycomb plaster-work. This room had something, even now, in the +days of its desecration, of monastic beauty about it. Where the odor of +sanctity had breathed forth, the fumes of idolatry prevailed; but +imagination, ever on the wing, flew back to that period--and a tradition +to that effect warranted the supposition--when, perchance, it had been +the sanctuary and the privacy of the prior's self. + +Wrapped in a cloak composed of the skins of various animals, upon a low +pallet, covered with stained scarlet cloth, sat Barbara. Around her head +was coiffed, in folds like those of an Asiatic turban, a rich, though +faded shawl, and her waist was encircled with the magic zodiacal +zone--proper to the sorceress--the _Mago Cineo_ of the Cingara--whence +the name Zingaro, according to Moncada--which Barbara had brought from +Spain. From her ears depended long golden drops, of curious antique +fashioning; and upon her withered fingers, which looked like a coil of +lizards, were hooped a multitude of silver rings, of the purest and +simplest manufacture. They seemed almost of massive unwrought metal. Her +skin was yellow as the body of a toad; corrugated as its back. She might +have been steeped in saffron from her finger tips, the nails of which +were of the same hue, to such portions of her neck as were visible, and +which was puckered up like the throat of a turtle. To look at her, one +might have thought the embalmer had experimented her art upon herself. +So dead, so bloodless, so blackened seemed the flesh, where flesh +remained, leather could scarce be tougher than her skin. She seemed like +an animated mummy. A frame so tanned, appeared calculated to endure for +ages; and, perhaps, might have done so. But, alas! the soul cannot be +embalmed. No oil can re-illumine that precious lamp! And that Barbara's +vital spark was fast waning, was evident from her heavy, blood-shot +eyes, once of a swimming black, and lengthy as a witch's, which were now +sinister and sunken. + +The atmosphere of the room was as strongly impregnated as a museum with +volatile odors, emitted from the stores of drugs with which the shelves +were loaded, as well as from various stuffed specimens of birds and wild +animals. Barbara's only living companion was a monstrous owl, which, +perched over the old gipsy's head, hissed a token of recognition as +Sybil advanced. From a hook, placed in the plaster roof, was suspended a +globe of crystal glass, about the size and shape of a large gourd, +filled with a pure pellucid liquid, in which a small snake, the Egyptian +aspic, described perpetual gyrations. + +Dim were the eyes of Barbara, yet not altogether sightless. The troubled +demeanor of her grandchild struck her as she entered. She felt the hot +drops upon her hand as Sybil stooped to kiss it; she heard her +vainly-stifled sobs. + +"What ails you, child?" said Barbara, in a voice that rattled in her +throat, and hollow as the articulation of a phantom. "Have you heard +tidings of Luke Bradley? Has any ill befallen him? I said you would +either hear of him or see him this morning. He is not returned, I see. +What have you heard?" + +"He _is_ returned," replied Sybil, faintly; "and no ill hath happened to +him." + +"He _is_ returned, and you are here," echoed Barbara. "No ill hath +happened to _him_, thou sayest--am I to understand there is--to _you_?" + +Sybil answered not. She could not answer. + +"I see, I see," said Barbara, more gently, her head and hand shaking +with paralytic affection: "a quarrel, a lover's quarrel. Old as I am, I +have not forgotten my feelings as a girl. What woman ever does, if she +be woman? and you, like your poor mother, are a true-hearted wench. She +loved her husband, as a husband should be loved, Sybil; and though she +loved me well, she loved him better, as was right. Ah! it was a bitter +day when she left me for Spain; for though, to one of our wandering +race, all countries are alike, yet the soil of our birth is dear to us, +and the presence of our kindred dearer. Well, well, I will not think of +that. She is gone. Nay, take it not so to heart, wench. Luke has a hasty +temper. 'Tis not the first time I have told you so. He will not bear +rebuke, and you have questioned him too shrewdly touching his absence. +Is it not so? Heed it not. Trust me, you will have him seek your +forgiveness ere the shadows shorten 'neath the noontide sun." + +"Alas! alas!" said Sybil, sadly, "this is no lover's quarrel, which may, +at once, be forgotten and forgiven--would it were so!" + +"What is it, then?" asked Barbara; and without waiting Sybil's answer, +she continued, with vehemence, "has he wronged you? Tell me, girl, in +what way? Speak, that I may avenge you, if your wrong requires revenge. +Are you blood of mine, and think I will not do this for you, girl? None +of the blood of Barbara Lovel were ever unrevenged. When Richard Cooper +stabbed my first-born, Francis, he fled to Flanders to escape my wrath. +But he did not escape it. I pursued him thither. I hunted him out; drove +him back to his own country, and brought him to the gallows. It took a +power of gold. What matter? Revenge is dearer than gold. And as it was +with Richard Cooper, so it shall be with Luke Bradley. I will catch him, +though he run. I will trip him, though he leap. I will reach him, though +he flee afar. I will drag him hither by the hair of his head," added +she, with a livid smile, and clutching at the air with her hands, as if +in the act of pulling some one towards her. "He shall wed you within the +hour, if you will have it, or if your honor need that it should be so. +My power is not departed from me. My people are yet at my command. I am +still their queen, and woe to him that offendeth me!" + +"Mother! mother!" cried Sybil, affrighted at the storm she had +unwittingly aroused, "he has not injured me. 'Tis I alone who am to +blame, not Luke." + +"You speak in mysteries," said Barbara. + +"Sir Piers Rookwood is dead." + +"Dead!" echoed Barbara, letting fall her hazel rod. "Sir Piers dead!" + +"And Luke Bradley----" + +"Ha!" + +"Is his successor." + +"Who told you that?" asked Barbara, with increased astonishment. + +"Luke himself. All is disclosed." And Sybil hastily recounted Luke's +adventures. "He is now Sir Luke Rookwood." + +"This is news, in truth," said Barbara; "yet not news to weep for. You +should rejoice, not lament. Well, well, I foresaw it. I shall live to +see all accomplished; to see my Agatha's child ennobled; to see her +wedded; ay, to see her well wedded." + +"Dearest mother!" + +"I can endow you, and I will do it. You shall bring your husband not +alone beauty, you shall bring him wealth." + +"But, mother----" + +"My Agatha's daughter shall be Lady Rookwood." + +"Never! It cannot be." + +"What cannot be?" + +"The match you now propose." + +"What mean you, silly wench? Ha! I perceive the meaning of those tears. +The truth flashes upon me. He has discarded you." + +"No, by the Heaven of Heavens, he is still the same--unaltered in +affection." + +"If so, your tears are out of place." + +"Mother, it is not fitting that I, a gipsy born, should wed with him." + +"Not fitting! Ha! and you my child! Not fitting! Get up, or I will spurn +you. Not fitting! This from you to me! I tell you it _is_ fitting; you +shall have a dower as ample as that of any lady in the land. Not +fitting! Do you say so, because you think that he derives himself from a +proud and ancient line--ancient and proud--ha, ha! I tell you, girl, +that for his one ancestor I can number twenty; for the years in which +his lineage hath flourished, my race can boast centuries, and was a +people--a kingdom!--ere the land in which he dwells was known. What! if, +by the curse of Heaven, we were driven forth, the curse of hell rests +upon his house." + +"I know it," said Sybil; "a dreadful curse, which, if I wed him, will +alight on me." + +"No; not on you; you shall avoid that curse. I know a means to satisfy +the avenger. Leave that to me." + +"I dare not, as it never can be; yet, tell me--you saw the body of +Luke's ill-fated mother. Was she poisoned? Nay, you may speak. Sir +Piers's death releases you from your oath. How died she?" + +"By strangulation," said the old gipsy, raising her palsied hand to her +throat. + +"Oh!" cried Sybil, gasping with horror. "Was there a ring upon her +finger when you embalmed the body?" + +"A ring--a wedding-ring! The finger was crookened. Listen, girl, I could +have told Luke the secret of his birth long ago, but the oath imposed by +Sir Piers sealed fast my lips. His mother was wedded to Sir Piers; his +mother was murdered by Sir Piers. Luke was entrusted to my care by his +father. I have brought him up with you. I have affianced you together; +and I shall live to see you united. He is now Sir Luke. He is your +husband." + +"Do not deceive yourself, mother," said Sybil, with a fearful +earnestness. "He is not yet Sir Luke Rookwood; would he had no claim to +be so! The fortune that has hitherto been so propitious may yet desert +him. Bethink you of a prophecy you uttered." + +"A prophecy? Ha!" + +And with slow enunciation Sybil pronounced the mystic words which she +had heard repeated by the sexton. + +As she spoke, a gloom, like that of a thunder-cloud, began to gather +over the brow of the old gipsy. The orbs of her sunken eyes expanded, +and wrath supplied her frame with vigor. She arose. + +"Who told you that?" cried Barbara. + +"Luke's grandsire, Peter Bradley." + +"How learnt he it?" said Barbara. "It was to one who hath long been in +his grave I told it; so long ago, it had passed from my memory. 'Tis +strange! old Sir Reginald had a brother, I know. But there is no other +of the house." + +"There is a cousin, Eleanor Mowbray." + +"Ha! I see; a daughter of that Eleanor Rookwood who fled from her +father's roof. Fool, fool. Am I caught in my own toils? Those words were +words of truth and power, and compel the future and 'the will be' as +with chains of brass. They must be fulfilled, yet not by Ranulph. He +shall never wed Eleanor." + +"Whom then shall she wed?" + +"His elder brother." + +"Mother!" shrieked Sybil. "Do you say so? Oh! recall your words." + +"I may not; it is spoken. Luke shall wed her." + +"Oh God, support me!" exclaimed Sybil. + +"Silly wench, be firm. It must be as I say. He shall wed her--yet shall +he wed her not. The nuptial torch shall be quenched as soon as lighted; +the curse of the avenger shall fall--yet not on thee." + +"Mother," said Sybil, "if sin must fall upon some innocent head, let it +be on mine--not upon hers. I love him, I would gladly die for him. She +is young--unoffending--perhaps happy. Oh! do not let her perish." + +"Peace, I say!" cried Barbara, "and mark me. This is your birthday. +Eighteen summers have flown over your young head--eighty winters have +sown their snows on mine. _You_ have yet to learn. Years have brought +wrinkles--they have brought wisdom likewise. To struggle with Fate, I +tell you, is to wrestle with Omnipotence. We may foresee, but not avert +our destiny. What will be, shall be. This is your eighteenth birthday, +Sybil: it is a day of fate to you; in it occurs your planetary hour--an +hour of good or ill, according to your actions. I have cast your +horoscope. I have watched your natal star; it is under the baleful +influence of Scorpion, and fiery Saturn sheds his lurid glance upon it. +Let me see your hand. The line of life is drawn out distinct and +clear--it runs--ha! what means that intersection? Beware--beware, my +Sybil. Act as I tell you, and you are safe. I will make another trial, +by the crystal bowl. Attend." + +Muttering some strange words, sounding like a spell, Barbara, with the +bifurcate hazel staff which she used as a divining-rod, described a +circle upon the floor. Within this circle she drew other lines, from +angle to angle, forming seven triangles, the bases of which constituted +the sides of a septilateral figure. This figure she studied intently for +a few moments. She then raised her wand and touched the owl with it. The +bird unfolded its wings, and arose in flight; then slowly circled round +the pendulous globe. Each time it drew nearer, until at length it +touched the glassy bowl with its flapping pinions. + +"Enough!" ejaculated Barbara. And at another motion from her rod the +bird stayed its flight and returned to its perch. + +Barbara arose. She struck the globe with her staff. The pure lymph +became instantly tinged with crimson, as if blood had been commingled +with it. The little serpent could be seen within, coiled up and knotted, +as in the struggles of death. + +"Again I say, beware!" ejaculated Barbara, solemnly. "This is ominous of +ill." + +Sybil had sunk, from faintness, on the pallet. A knock was heard at the +door. + +"Who is without?" cried Barbara. + +"'Tis I, Balthazar," replied a voice. + +"Thou mayest enter," answered Barbara; and an old man with a long beard, +white as snow, reaching to his girdle, and a costume which might be said +to resemble the raiment of a Jewish high priest, made his appearance. +This venerable personage was no other than the patrico, or hierophant of +the Canting Crew. + +"I come to tell you that there are strangers--ladies--within the +priory," said the patrico, gravely. "I have searched for you in vain," +continued he, addressing Sybil; "the younger of them seems to need your +assistance." + +"Whence come they?" exclaimed Barbara. + +"They have ridden, I understand, from Rookwood," answered the patrico. +"They were on their way to Davenham, when they were prevented." + +"From Rookwood?" echoed Sybil. "Their names--did you hear their names?" + +"Mowbray is the name of both; they are a mother and a daughter; the +younger is called----" + +"Eleanor?" asked Sybil, with an acute foreboding of calamity. + +"Eleanor is the name, assuredly," replied the patrico, somewhat +surprised. "I heard the elder, whom I guess to be her mother, so address +her." + +"Gracious God! She here!" exclaimed Sybil. + +"Here! Eleanor Mowbray here," cried Barbara; "within my power. Not a +moment is to be lost. Balthazar, hasten round the tents--not a man must +leave his place--above all, Luke Bradley. See that these Mowbrays are +detained within the abbey. Let the bell be sounded. Quick, quick; leave +this wench to me; she is not well. I have much to do. Away with thee, +man, and let me know when thou hast done it." And as Balthazar departed +on his mission, with a glance of triumph in her eyes, Barbara exclaimed, +"Soh, no sooner hath the thought possessed me, than the means of +accomplishment appear. It shall be done at once. I will tie the knot. I +will untie, and then retie it. This weak wench must be nerved to the +task," added she, regarding the senseless form of Sybil. "Here is that +will stimulate her," opening the cupboard, and taking a small phial; +"this will fortify her; and this," continued she, with a ghastly smile, +laying her hand upon another vessel, "this shall remove her rival when +all is fulfilled; this liquid shall constrain her lover to be her +titled, landed husband. Ha, ha!" + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_THE INAUGURATION_ + + _Beggar._ Concert, sir! we have musicians, too, among us. True, + merry beggars, indeed, that, being within the reach of the lash for + singing libellous songs at London, were fain to fly into one cover, + and here they sing all our poets' ditties. They can sing anything, + most tunably, sir, but psalms. What they may do hereafter, under a + triple tree, is much expected; but they live very civilly and + genteelly among us. + + _Spring._ But what is here--that solemn old fellow, that neither + speaks of himself, or any for him? + + _Beggar._ O, sir, the rarest man of all: he is a prophet. See how he + holds up his prognosticating nose. He is divining now. + + _Spring._ How, a prophet? + + _Beggar._ Yes, sir; a cunning man, and a fortune-teller; a very + ancient stroller all the world over, and has travelled with gipsies: + and is a patrico. + + _The Merry Beggars._ + + +In consequence of some few words which the sexton let fall in the +presence of the attendants, during breakfast, more perhaps by design +than accident, it was speedily rumored throughout the camp that the +redoubted Richard Turpin was for the time its inmate. This intelligence +produced some such sensation as is experienced by the inhabitants of a +petty town on the sudden arrival of a prince of the blood, a +commander-in-chief, or other illustrious and distinguished personage, +whose fame has been vaunted abroad amongst his fellowmen by Rumor, "and +her thousand tongues;" and who, like our highwayman, has rendered +himself sufficiently notorious to be an object of admiration and +emulation amongst his contemporaries. + +All started up at the news. The upright man, the chief of the crew, +arose from his chair, donned his gown of state, a very ancient brocade +dressing-gown, filched, most probably, from the wardrobe of some +strolling player, grasped his baton of office, a stout oaken truncheon, +and sallied forth. The ruffler, who found his representative in a very +magnificently equipped, and by no means ill-favored knave, whose chin +was decorated with a beard as lengthy and as black as Sultan Mahmoud's, +together with the dexterous hooker, issued forth from the hovel which +they termed their boozing ken, eager to catch a glimpse of the prince of +the high-tobygloaks. The limping palliard tore the bandages from his +mock wounds, shouldered his crutch, and trudged hastily after them. The +whip-jack unbuckled his strap, threw away his timber leg, and "leapt +exulting, like the bounding roe." "With such a sail in sight," he said, +"he must heave to, like the rest." The dummerar, whose tongue had been +cut out by the Algerines, suddenly found the use of it, and made the +welkin ring with his shouts. Wonderful were the miracles Dick's advent +wrought. The lame became suddenly active, the blind saw, the dumb spoke; +nay, if truth must be told, absolutely gave utterance to "most +vernacular execrations." Morts, autem morts, walking morts, dells, +doxies, kinching morts, and their coes, with all the shades and grades +of the Canting Crew, were assembled. There were, to use the words of +Brome-- + + ----Stark, errant, downright beggars. Ay, + Without equivocation, statute beggars, + Couchant and passant, guardant, rampant beggars; + Current and vagrant, stockant, whippant beggars![25] + +Each sunburnt varlet started from his shed; each dusky dame, with her +brown, half-naked urchins, followed at his heels; each "ripe young +maiden, with the glossy eye," lingered but to sleek her raven tresses, +and to arrange her straw bonnet, and then overtook the others; each +wrinkled beldame hobbled as quickly after as her stiffened joints would +permit; while the ancient patrico, the priest of the crew--who joined +the couples together by the hedge-side, "with the nice custom of dead +horse between"[26]--brought up the rear; all bent on one grand object, +that of having a peep at the "foremost man of all this prigging world!" + +Dick Turpin, at the period of which we treat, was in the zenith of his +reputation. His deeds were full blown; his exploits were in every man's +mouth; and a heavy price was set upon his head. That he should show +himself thus openly, where he might be so easily betrayed, excited no +little surprise among the craftiest of the crew, and augured an excess +of temerity on his part. Rash daring was the main feature of Turpin's +character. Like our great Nelson, he knew fear only by name; and when he +thus trusted himself in the hands of strangers, confident in himself and +in his own resources, he felt perfectly easy as to the result. He relied +also in the continuance of his good fortune, which had as yet never +deserted him. Possessed of the belief that his hour was not yet come, he +cared little or nothing for any risk he might incur; and though he +might, undoubtedly, have some presentiment of the probable termination +of his career, he never suffered it to militate against his present +enjoyment, which proved that he was no despicable philosopher. + +Turpin was the _ultimus Romanorum_, the last of a race, which--we were +almost about to say we regret--is now altogether extinct. Several +successors he had, it is true, but no name worthy to be recorded after +his own. With him expired the chivalrous spirit which animated +successively the bosoms of so many knights of the road; with him died +away that passionate love of enterprise, that high spirit of devotion to +the fair sex, which was first breathed upon the highway by the gay, +gallant Claude Du-Val, the Bayard of the road--_Le filou sans peur et +sans reproche_--but which was extinguished at last by the cord that tied +the heroic Turpin to the remorseless tree. It were a subject well worthy +of inquiry, to trace this decline and fall of the empire of the tobymen +to its remoter causes; to ascertain the why and the wherefore, that with +so many half-pay captains; so many poor curates; so many lieutenants, of +both services, without hopes of promotion; so many penny-a-liners, and +fashionable novelists; so many damned dramatists, and damning critics; +so many Edinburgh and Quarterly Reviewers; so many detrimental brothers, +and younger sons; when there are horses to be hired, pistols to be +borrowed, purses to be taken, and mails are as plentiful as +partridges--it were worth serious investigation, we repeat, to ascertain +why, with the best material imaginable for a new race of highwaymen, we +have none, not even an amateur. Why do not some of these choice spirits +quit the _salons_ of Pall-Mall, and take to the road? the air of the +heath is more bracing and wholesome, we should conceive, than that of +any "hell" whatever, and the chances of success incomparably greater. We +throw out this hint, without a doubt of seeing it followed up. Probably +the solution of our inquiry may be, that the supply is greater than the +demand; that, in the present state of things, embryo highwaymen may be +more abundant than purses; and then, have we not the horse-patrol? With +such an admirably-organized system of conservation, it is vain to +anticipate a change. The highwaymen, we fear, like their Irish brothers, +the Rapparees, went out with the Tories. They were averse to reform, and +eschewed emancipation. + +Lest any one should think we have overrated the pleasures of the +highwayman's existence, they shall hear what "the right villainous" Jack +Hall, a celebrated tobyman of his day, has got to say on the subject. +"His life--the highwayman's--has, generally, the most mirth and the +least care in it of any man's breathing, and all he deals for is clear +profit: he has that point of good conscience, that he always sells as +he buys, a good pennyworth, which is something rare, since he trades +with so small a stock. The _fence_[27] and he are like the devil and the +doctor, they live by one another; and, like traitors, 'tis best to keep +each other's counsel. He has this point of honesty, that he never robs +the house he frequents"--Turpin had the same scruples respecting the +Hall of Rookwood in Sir Piers's lifetime--; "and perhaps pays his debts +better than some others, for he holds it below the dignity of his +employment to commit so ungenteel a crime as insolvency, and loves to +pay nobly. He has another quality, not much amiss, that he takes no more +than he has occasion for"--Jack, we think, was a little mistaken here--; +"which he verifies this way: he craves no more while that lasts. He is a +less nuisance in a commonwealth than a miser, because the money he +engrosses all circulates again, which the other hoards as though 'twere +only to be found again at the day of judgment. He is the tithe-pig of +his family, which the gallows, instead of the parson, claims as its due. +He has reason enough to be bold in his undertakings, for, though all the +world threaten him, he stands in fear of but one man in it, and that's +the hangman; and with him, too, he is generally in fee: however, I +cannot affirm he is so valiant that he dares look any man in the face, +for in that point he is now and then, a little modest. Newgate may be +said to be his country-house, where he frequently lives so many months +in the year; and he is not so much concerned to be carried thither for a +small matter, if 'twere only for the benefit of renewing his +acquaintance there. He holds a petit larceny as light as a nun does +auricular confession, though the priest has a more compassionate +character than the hangman. Every man in this community is esteemed +according to his particular quality, of which there are several degrees, +though it is contrary often to public government; for here a man shall +be valued purely for his merit, and rise by it too, though it be but to +a halter, in which there is a great deal of glory in dying like a hero, +and making a decent figure in the cart to the last two staves of the +fifty-first psalm."[28] + +This, we repeat, is the plain statement of a practical man, and again we +throw out the hint for adoption. All we regret is, that we are now +degenerated from the grand tobyman to the cracksman and the sneak, about +whom there are no redeeming features. How much lower the next generation +of thieves will dive it boots not to conjecture: + + AEtas parentum pejor avis tulit, + Nos nequiores; mox daturos, + Progeniem vitiosiorem. + +"Cervantes laughed Spain's chivalry away," sang Byron; and if Gay did +not extinguish the failing flame of our _night_ errantry--unlike the +"Robbers" of Schiller, which is said to have inflamed the Saxon youth +with an irrepressible mania for brigandage--, the "Beggar's Opera" +helped not to fan the dying fire. That laugh was fatal, as laughs +generally are. Macheath gave the highwayman his _coup de grace_. + +The last of this race--for we must persist in maintaining that he _was_ +the last--, Turpin, like the setting sun, threw up some parting rays of +glory, and tinged the far highways with a luster that may yet be traced +like a cloud of dust raised by his horse's retreating heels. Unequalled +in the command of his steed, the most singular feat that the whole race +of the annals of horsemanship has to record, and of which we may have +more to say hereafter, was achieved by him. So perfect was his +jockeyship, so clever his management of the animal he mounted, so +intimately acquainted was he with every cross-road in the neighborhood +of the metropolis--a book of which he constructed, and carried +constantly about his person--, as well as with many other parts of +England, particularly the counties of Chester, York, and Lancaster, that +he outstripped every pursuer, and baffled all attempts at capture. His +reckless daring, his restless rapidity--for so suddenly did he change +his ground, and renew his attacks in other quarters, that he seemed to +be endowed with ubiquity,--his bravery, his resolution, and, above all, +his generosity, won for him a high reputation amongst his compatriots, +and even elicited applauses from those upon whom he levied his +contributions. + +Beyond dispute, he ruled as master of the road. His hands were, as yet, +unstained with blood; he was ever prompt to check the disposition to +outrage, and to prevent, as much as lay in his power, the commission of +violence by his associates. Of late, since he had possessed himself of +his favorite mare, Black Bess, his robberies had been perpetrated with a +suddenness of succession, and at distances so apparently impracticable, +that the idea of all having been executed by one man, was rejected as an +impossibility; and the only way of reconciling the description of the +horse and rider, which tallied in each instance, was the supposition +that these attacks were performed by confederates similarly mounted and +similarly accoutred. + +There was, in all this, as much of the "_famae sacra fames_" as of the +"_auri_;" of the hungering after distinction, as well as of the appetite +of gain. Enamored of his vocation, Turpin delighted to hear himself +designated as the Flying Highwayman; and it was with rapturous triumph +that he found his single-handed feats attributed to a band of marauders. +But this state of things could not long endure; his secret was blown; +the vigilance of the police was aroused; he was tracked to his haunts; +and, after a number of hairbreadth 'scapes, which he only effected by +miracle, or by the aid of his wonder-working mare, he reluctantly +quitted the heathy hills of Bagshot, the Pampas plains of Hounslow--over +which like an archetype of the galloping Sir Francis Head, he had so +often scoured,--the gorsy commons of Highgate, Hampstead, and Finchley, +the marshy fields of Battersea, almost all of which he had been known to +visit in a single night, and leaving these beaten tracks to the +occupation of younger and less practised hands, he bequeathed to them, +at the same time, his own reversionary interest in the gibbets thereupon +erected, and betook himself to the country. + +After a journey of more or less success, our adventurer found himself at +Rookwood, whither he had been invited after a grand field-day by its +hospitable and by no means inquisitive owner. Breach of faith and good +fellowship formed no part of Turpin's character; he had his lights as +well as his shades; and as long as Sir Piers lived, his purse and +coffers would have been free from molestation, except, "so far," Dick +said, "as a cog or two of dice went. My dice, you know, are longs for +odd and even, a bale of bar'd cinque deuces," a pattern of which he +always carried with him; beyond this, excepting a take-in at a steeple +chase, Rookwood church being the mark, a "do" at a leap, or some such +trifle, to which the most scrupulous could not raise an objection, Dick +was all fair and above-board. But when poor Sir Piers had "put on his +wooden surtout," to use Dick's own expressive metaphor, his +conscientious scruples evaporated into thin air. Lady Rookwood was +nothing to him; there was excellent booty to be appropriated-- + + The wise _convey_ it call. + +He began to look about for hands; and having accidentally encountered +his old comrades, Rust and Wilder, they were let into the business, +which was imperfectly accomplished in the manner heretofore described. + +To return from this digression. When Turpin presented himself at the +threshold of the door, on his way to inquire after his mare, to his +astonishment he found it closely invested. A cheering shout from the +tawny throng, succeeded by a general clapping of hands, and attended by +a buzzing susurration of applause, such as welcomes the entrance of a +popular actor upon the stage, greeted the appearance of the highwayman. +At the first sight of the crowd he was a little startled, and +involuntarily sought for his pistols. But the demonstrations of +admiration were too unequivocal to be for a moment mistaken; his hand +was drawn from his pocket to raise his hat from his brow. + +Thunders of applause. + +Turpin's external man, we have before said, was singularly +prepossessing. It was especially so in the eyes of _the_ sex--fair we +certainly cannot say upon the present occasion--, amongst whom not a +single dissentient voice was to be heard. All concurred in thinking him +a fine fellow; could plainly read his high courage in his bearing; his +good breeding in his debonnaire deportment; and his manly beauty in his +extravagant red whiskers. Dick saw the effect that he produced. He was +at home in a moment. Your true highwayman has ever a passion for effect. +This does not desert him at the gallows; it rises superior to death +itself, and has been known to influence the manner of his dangling from +the gibbet! To hear some one cry, "There goes a proper handsome man," +saith our previously quoted authority, Jack Hall, "somewhat ameliorates +the terrible thoughts of the meagre tyrant death; and to go in a dirty +shirt were enough to save the hangman a labor, and make a man die with +grief and shame at being in that deplorable condition." With a gracious +smile of condescension, like a popular orator--with a look of blarney +like that of O'Connell, and of assurance like that of Hume--he surveyed +the male portion of the spectators, tipped a knowing wink at the +prettiest brunettes he could select, and finally cut a sort of fling +with his well-booted legs, that brought down another appeal of rapturous +applause. + +"A rank scamp!"[29] cried the upright man; and this exclamation, however +equivocal it may sound, was intended, on his part, to be highly +complimentary. + +"I believe ye," returned the ruffler, stroking his chin--"one may see +that he's no half swell by the care with which he cultivates the best +gifts of nature, his whiskers. He's a rank nib."[30] + +"Togged out to the ruffian, no doubt," said the palliard, who was +incomparably the shabbiest rascal in the corps. "Though a needy mizzler +mysel, I likes to see a cove vot's vel dressed. Jist twig his swell +kickseys and pipes;[31] if they ain't the thing, I'm done. Lame Harry +can't dance better nor he--no, nor Jerry Juniper neither." + +"I'm dumb founded," roared the dummerar, "if he can't patter romany[32] +as vel as the best on us! He looks like a rum 'un." + +"And a rum 'un he be, take my word for it," returned the whip-jack, or +sham sailor. "Look at his rigging--see how he flashes his +sticks[33]--those are the tools to rake a three-decker. He's as clever a +craft as I've seen this many a day, or I'm no judge." + +The women were equally enchanted--equally eloquent in the expression of +their admiration. + +"What ogles!" cried a mort. + +"What pins!" said an autem mort, or married woman. + +"Sharp as needles," said a dark-eyed dell, who had encountered one of +the free and frolicsome glances which our highwayman distributed so +liberally among the petticoats. + +It was at this crisis Dick took off his hat. Caesar betrayed his +baldness. + +"A thousand pities!" cried the men, compassionating his thinly covered +skull, and twisting their own ringlets, glossy and luxuriant, though +unconscious of Macassar. "A thousand pities that so fine a fellow should +have a sconce like a cocoanut!" + +"But then his red whiskers," rejoined the women, tired of the uniformity +of thick black heads of hair; "what a warmth of coloring they impart to +his face; and then only look how beautifully bushy they make his cheeks +appear!" + +La Fosseuse and the court of the Queen of Navarre were not more smitten +with the Sieur de Croix's jolly pair of whiskers. + +The hawk's eye of Turpin ranged over the whole assemblage. Amidst that +throng of dark faces there was not one familiar to him. + +Before him stood the upright man, Zoroaster--so was he called--, a +sturdy, stalwart rogue, whose superior strength and stature--as has not +unfrequently been the case in the infancy of governments that have risen +to more importance than is likely to be the case with that of Lesser +Egypt--had been the means of his elevation to his present dignified +position. Zoroaster literally _fought_ his way upwards, and had at first +to maintain his situation by the strong arm; but he now was enabled to +repose upon his hard-won laurels, to smoke "the calumet of peace," and +quaff his tipple with impunity. For one of gipsy blood, he presented an +unusually jovial, liquor-loving countenance: his eye was mirthful; his +lip moist, as if from oft potations; his cheek mellow as an Orleans +plum, which fruit, in color and texture, it mightily resembled. Strange +to say, also, for one of that lithe race, his person was heavy and +hebetudinous; the consequence, no doubt, of habitual intemperance. Like +Cribb, he waxed obese upon the championship. There was a kind of mock +state in his carriage, as he placed himself before Turpin, and with his +left hand twisted up the tail of his dressing-gown, while the right +thrust his truncheon into his hip, which was infinitely diverting to the +highwayman. + +Turpin's attention, however, was chiefly directed towards his neighbor, +the ruffler, in whom he recognized a famous impostor of the day, with +whose history he was sufficiently well acquainted to be able at once to +identify the individual. We have before stated, that a magnificent +coal-black beard decorated the chin of this worthy; but this was not +all--his costume was in perfect keeping with his beard, and consisted of +a very theatrical-looking tunic, upon the breast of which was +embroidered, in golden wire, the Maltese cross; while over his shoulders +were thrown the folds of an ample cloak of Tyrian hue. To his side was +girt a long and doughty sword, which he termed, in his knightly phrase, +Excalibur; and upon his profuse hair rested a hat as broad in the brim +as a Spanish sombrero. + +Exaggerated as this description may appear, we can assure our readers +that it is not overdrawn; and that a counterpart of the sketch we have +given of the ruffler certainly "strutted his hour" upon the stage of +human life, and that the very ancient and discriminating city of +Canterbury--to which be all honor--was his theatre of action. His +history is so far curious, that it exemplifies, more strongly than a +thousand discourses could do, how prone we are to be governed by +appearances, and how easily we may be made the dupes of a plausible +impostor. Be it remembered, however, that we treat of the eighteenth +century, before the march of intellect had commenced; we are much too +knowing to be similarly practised upon in these enlightened times. But +we will let the knight of Malta, for such was the title assumed by the +ruffler, tell his own story in his own way hereafter; contenting +ourselves with the moral precepts we have already deduced from it. + +Next to the knight of Malta stood the whip-jack, habited in his sailor +gear--striped shirt and dirty canvas trousers; and adjoining him was the +palliard, a loathsome tatterdemalion, his dress one heap of rags, and +his discolored skin one mass of artificial leprosy and imposthumes. + +As Turpin's eye shifted from one to another of these figures, he chanced +upon an individual who had been long endeavoring to arrest his +attention. This personage was completely in the background. All that +Dick could discern of him was a brown curly head of hair, carelessly +arranged in the modern mode; a handsome, impudent, sun-freckled face, +with one eye closed, and the other occupied by a broken bottle-neck, +through which, as a substitute for a lorgnette, the individual +reconnoitered him. A cocked hat was placed in a very _degagee_ manner +under his arm, and he held an ebony cane in his hand, very much in the +style of a "_fassionable_," as the French have it, of the present day. +This glimpse was sufficient to satisfy Turpin. He recognized in this +whimsical personage an acquaintance. + +Jerry Juniper was what the classical Captain Grose would designate a +"gentleman with three outs," and, although he was not entirely without +wit, nor, his associates avouched, without money, nor, certainly, in his +own opinion, had that been asked, without manners; yet was he assuredly +without shoes, without stockings, without shirt. This latter deficiency +was made up by a voluminous cravat, tied with proportionately large +bows. A jaunty pair of yellow breeches, somewhat faded; a waistcoat of +silver brocade, richly embroidered, somewhat tarnished and lack-lustre; +a murrey-colored velvet coat, somewhat chafed, completed the costume of +this beggar Brummell, this mendicant macaroni! + +Jerry Juniper was a character well known at the time, as a constant +frequenter of all races, fairs, regattas, ship-launches, bull-baits, and +prize-fights, all of which he attended, and to which he transported +himself with an expedition little less remarkable than that of Turpin. +You met him at Epsom, at Ascot, at Newmarket, at Doncaster, at the +Roodee of Chester, at the Curragh of Kildare. The most remote as well as +the most adjacent meeting attracted him. The cock-pit was his constant +haunt, and in more senses than one was he a _leg_. No opera-dancer could +be more agile, more nimble; scarcely, indeed, more graceful, than was +Jerry, with his shoeless and stockingless feet; and the manner in which +he executed a pirouette, or a pas, before a line of carriages, seldom +failed to procure him "golden opinions from all sorts of dames." With +the ladies, it must be owned, Jerry was rather upon too easy terms; but +then, perhaps, the ladies were upon too easy terms with Jerry; and if a +bright-eyed fair one condescended to jest with him, what marvel if he +should sometimes slightly transgress the laws of decorum. These +aberrations, however, were trifling; altogether he was so well known, +and knew everybody else so well, that he seldom committed himself; and, +singular to say, could on occasions even be serious. In addition to his +other faculties, no one cut a sly joke, or trolled a merry ditty, better +than Jerry. His peculiarities, in short, were on the pleasant side, and +he was a general favorite in consequence. + +No sooner did Jerry perceive that he was recognized, than, after kissing +his hand, with the air of a _petit-maitre_, to the highwayman, he strove +to edge his way through the crowd. All his efforts were fruitless; and, +tired of a situation in the rear rank, so inconsistent, he conceived, +with his own importance, he had recourse to an expedient often practised +with success in harlequinades, and not unfrequently in real life, where +a flying leap is occasionally taken over our heads. He ran back a few +yards to give himself an impetus, returned, and, placing his hands upon +the shoulders of a stalwart vagabond near to him, threw a summerset upon +the broad cap of a palliard, who was so jammed in the midst that he +could not have stirred to avoid the shock; thence, without pausing, he +vaulted forwards, and dropped lightly upon the ground in front of +Zoroaster, and immediately before the highwayman. + +Dick laughed immoderately at Jerry's man[oe]uvre. He shook his old chum +cordially by the hand, saying, in a whisper, "What the devil brings you +here, Jerry?" + +"I might retort, and ask you that question, Captain Turpin," replied +Jerry, _sotto voce_. "It is odd to see me here, certainly--quite out of +my element--lost amongst this _canaille_--this Canting Crew--all the +fault of a pair of gipsy eyes, bright as a diamond, dark as a sloe. You +comprehend--a little affair, ha! Liable to these things. Bring your ear +closer, my boy; be upon your guard--keep a sharp look out--there's a +devil of a reward upon your head--I won't answer for all those rascals." + +"Thank you for the hint, Jerry," replied Dick, in the same tone. "I +calculated my chances pretty nicely when I came here. But if I should +perceive any symptoms of foul play--any attempt to snitch or nose, +amongst this pack of peddlers--I have a friend or two at hand, who won't +be silent upon the occasion. Rest assured I shall have my eye upon the +gnarling scoundrels. I won't be sold for nothing." + +"Trust you for that," returned Juniper, with a wink. "Stay," added he; +"a thought strikes me. I have a scheme _in petto_ which may, perhaps, +afford you some fun, and will, at all events, insure your safety during +your stay." + +"What is it?" asked Dick. + +"Just amuse yourself with a flirtation for a moment or two with that +pretty damsel, who has been casting her ogles at you for the last five +minutes without success, while I effect a master-stroke." + +And as Turpin, nothing loth, followed his advice, Jerry addressed +himself to Zoroaster. After a little conference, accompanied by that +worthy and the knight of Malta, the trio stepped forward from the line, +and approached Dick, when Juniper, assuming some such attitude as our +admirable Jones, the comedian, is wont to display, delivered himself of +the following address. Turpin listened with the gravity of one of the +distinguished persons alluded to, at the commencement of the present +chapter, upon their receiving the freedom of the city at the hands of a +mayor and corporation. Thus spoke Jerry: + +"Highest of High-Tobymen! rummest of rum Padders, and most scampish of +Scampsmen! We, in the name of Barbara, our most tawny queen; in the name +of Zoroaster, our Upright Man, Dimber Damber, or Olli Campolli, by all +which titles his excellency is distinguished; in our own respective +names, as High Pads and Low Pads, Rum Gills and Queer Gills, Patricos, +Palliards, Priggers, Whip-Jacks, and Jarkmen, from the Arch Rogue to the +Needy Mizzler, fully sensible of the honor you have conferred upon us in +gracing Stop-Hole Abbey with your presence; and conceiving that we can +in no way evince our sense of your condescension so entirely as by +offering you the freedom of our crew, together with the privileges of an +Upright Man,[34] which you may be aware are considerable, and by +creating you an honorary member of the Vagrant Club, which we have +recently established; and in so doing, we would fain express the +sentiments of gratification and pride which we experience in enrolling +among our members one who has extended the glory of roguery so widely +over the land, and who has kicked up such a dust upon the highways of +England, as most effectually to blind the natives--one who is in himself +a legion--of highwaymen! Awaiting, with respectful deference, the +acquiescence of Captain Richard Turpin, we beg to tender him the freedom +of our crew." + +"Really, gentlemen," said Turpin, who did not exactly see the drift of +this harangue, "you do me a vast deal of honor. I am quite at a loss to +conceive how I can possibly have merited so much attention at your +hands; and, indeed, I feel myself so unworthy----" Here Dick received an +expressive wink from Juniper, and therefore thought it prudent to alter +his expression. "Could I suppose myself at all deserving of so much +distinction," continued the modest speaker, "I should at once accept +your very obliging offer; but----" + +"None so worthy," said the upright man. + +"Can't hear of a refusal," said the knight of Malta. + +"Refusal--impossible!" reiterated Juniper. + +"No; no refusal," exclaimed a chorus of voices. "Dick Turpin must be one +of us. He shall be our dimber damber." + +"Well, gentlemen, since you are so pressing," replied Turpin, "even so +be it. I _will_ be your dimber damber." + +"Bravo! bravo!" cried the mob, _not_ "of gentlemen." + +"About it, pals, at once," said the knight of Malta, flourishing +Excalibur. "By St. Thomas a Becket, we'll have as fine a scene as I +myself ever furnished to the Canterbury lieges." + +"About what?" asked Dick. + +"Your matriculation," replied Jerry. "There are certain forms to be +gone through, with an oath to be taken, merely a trifle. We'll have a +jolly booze when all's over. Come bing avast, my merry pals; to the +green, to the green: a Turpin! a Turpin! a new brother!" + +"A Turpin! a Turpin! a new brother!" echoed the crew. + +"I've brought you through," said Jerry, taking advantage of the uproar +that ensued to whisper to his chum; "none of them will dare to lift a +finger against you now. They are all your friends for life." + +"Nevertheless," returned Turpin, "I should be glad to know what has +become of Bess." + +"If it's your prancer you are wanting," chirped a fluttering creature, +whom Turpin recognized as Luke's groom, Grasshopper, "I gave her a fresh +loaf and a stoup of stingo, as you bade me, and there she be, under yon +tree, as quiet as a lamb." + +"I see her," replied Turpin; "just tighten her girths, Grasshopper, and +bring her after me, and thou shalt have wherewithal to chirp over thy +cups at supper." + +Away bounded the elfin dwarf to execute his behest. + +A loud shout now rent the skies, and presently afterwards was heard the +vile scraping of a fiddle, accompanied by the tattoo of a drum. +Approaching Turpin, a host of gipsies elevated the highwayman upon their +shoulders, and in this way he was carried to the centre of the green, +where the long oaken table, which had once served the Franciscans for +refection, was now destined for the stage of the pageant. + +Upon this table three drums were placed; and Turpin was requested to +seat himself on the central one. A solemn prelude, more unearthly than +the incantation in the Freyschuetz, was played by the orchestra of the +band, conducted by the Paganini of the place, who elicited the most +marvellous notes from his shell. A couple of shawms[35] emitted +sepulchral sounds, while the hollow rolling of a drum broke ever and +anon upon the ear. The effect was prodigiously fine. During this +overture the patrico and the upright man had ascended the rostrum, each +taking his place; the former on the right hand of Turpin, the latter +upon his left. Below them stood the knight of Malta, with Excalibur +drawn in his hand, and gleaming in the sunshine. On the whole, Dick was +amused with what he saw, and with the novel situation in which he found +himself placed. Around the table were congregated a compact mass of +heads; so compact, indeed, that they looked like one creature--an Argus, +with each eye upturned upon the highwayman. The idea struck Turpin that +the restless mass of parti-colored shreds and patches, of vivid hues and +varied tintings, singularly, though accidentally, disposed to produce +such an effect, resembled an immense tiger-moth, or it might be a Turkey +carpet spread out upon the grass! + +The scene was a joyous one. It was a brilliant sunshiny morning. +Freshened and purified by the storm of the preceding night, the air +breathed a balm upon the nerves and senses of the robber. The wooded +hills were glittering in light; the brook was flowing swiftly past the +edge of the verdant slope, glancing like a wreathed snake in the +sunshine--its "quiet song" lost in the rude harmony of the mummers, as +were the thousand twitterings of the rejoicing birds; the rocks bared +their bosoms to the sun, or were buried in deep-cast gloom; the shadows +of the pillars and arches of the old walls of the priory were projected +afar, while the rose-like ramifications of the magnificent marigold +window were traced, as if by a pencil, upon the verdant tablet of the +sod. + +The overture was finished. With the appearance of the principal figures +in this strange picture the reader is already familiar. It remains only +to give him some idea of the patrico. Imagine, then, an old +superannuated goat, reared upon its hind legs, and clad in a white +sheet, disposed in folds like those of a simar about its limbs, and you +will have some idea of Balthazar, the patrico. This resemblance to the +animal before mentioned was rendered the more striking by his huge, +hanging, goat-like under lip, his lengthy white beard, and a sort of +cap, covering his head, which was ornamented with a pair of horns, such +as are to be seen in Michael Angelo's tremendous statue of Moses. +Balthazar, besides being the patrico of the tribe, was its principal +professor of divination, and had been the long-tried and faithful +minister of Barbara Lovel, from whose secret instructions he was +supposed to have derived much of his magical skill. + +Placing a pair of spectacles upon his "prognosticating nose," and +unrolling a vellum skin, upon which strange characters were written, +Balthazar, turning to Turpin, thus commenced in a solemn voice: + + Thou who wouldst our brother be, + Say how we shall enter thee? + Name the name that thou wilt bear + Ere our livery thou wear? + +"I see no reason why I should alter my designation," replied the +noviciate; "but as popes change their titles on their creation, there +can be no objection to a scampsman following so excellent an example. +Let me be known as the Night Hawk." + +"The Night Hawk--good," returned the hierophant, proceeding to register +the name upon the parchment. "Kneel down," continued he. + +After some hesitation, Turpin complied. + +"You must repeat the 'salamon,' or oath of our creed, after my +dictation," said the patrico; and Turpin, signifying his assent by a +nod, Balthazar propounded the following abjuration: + + OATH OF THE CANTING CREW + + I, Crank-Cuffin, swear to be + True to this fraternity; + That I will in all obey + Rule and order of the lay. + Never blow the gab, or squeak; + Never snitch to bum or beak; + But religiously maintain + Authority of those who reign + Over Stop-Hole Abbey Green, + Be they tawny king, or queen. + In their cause alone will fight; + Think what they think, wrong or right; + Serve them truly, and no other, + And be faithful to my brother; + Suffer none, from far or near, + With their rights to interfere; + No strange Abram, ruffler crack, + Hooker of another pack, + Rogue or rascal, frater, maunderer, + Irish toyle, or other wanderer; + No dimber damber, angler, dancer, + Prig of cackler, prig of prancer; + No swigman, swaddler, clapperdudgeon; + Cadge-gloak, curtal, or curmudgeon; + No whip-jack, palliard, patrico; + No jarkman, be he high or low; + No dummerar, or romany; + No member of "_the Family_;" + No ballad-basket, bouncing buffer, + Nor any other, will I suffer; + But stall-off now and for ever, + All outliers whatsoever: + And as I keep to the foregone, + So may help me Salamon![36] + +"So help me Salamon!" repeated Turpin, with emphasis. + +"Zoroaster," said the patrico to the upright man, "do thy part of this +ceremonial." + +Zoroaster obeyed; and, taking Excalibur from the knight of Malta, +bestowed a hearty thwack with the blade upon the shoulders of the +kneeling highwayman, assisting him afterwards to arise. + +The inauguration was complete. + +"Well," exclaimed Dick, "I'm glad it's all over. My leg feels a little +stiffish. I'm not much given to kneeling. I must dance it off;" saying +which, he began to shuffle upon the boards. "I tell you what," continued +he, "most reverend patrico, that same 'salmon' of yours has a cursed +long tail. I could scarce swallow it all, and it's strange if it don't +give me an indigestion. As to you, sage Zory, from the dexterity with +which you flourish your sword, I should say you had practised at court. +His majesty could scarce do the thing better, when, slapping some fat +alderman upon the shoulder, he bids him arise Sir Richard. And now, +pals," added he, glancing round, "as I am one of you, let's have a booze +together ere I depart, for I don't think my stay will be long in the +land of Egypt." + +This suggestion of Turpin was so entirely consonant to the wishes of the +assemblage, that it met with universal approbation; and upon a sign from +Zoroaster, some of his followers departed in search of supplies for the +carousal. Zoroaster leaped from the table, and his example was followed +by Turpin, and more leisurely by the patrico. + +It was rather early in the day for a drinking bout. But the Canting Crew +were not remarkably particular. The chairs were removed, and the +jingling of glasses announced the arrival of the preliminaries of the +matutine symposion. Poles, canvas, and cords were next brought; and in +almost as short a space of time as one scene is substituted for another +in a theatrical representation, a tent was erected. Benches, stools, and +chairs appeared with equal celerity, and the interior soon presented an +appearance like that of a booth at a fair. A keg of brandy was broached, +and the health of the new brother quaffed in brimmers. + +Our highwayman returned thanks. Zoroaster was in the chair, the knight +of Malta acting as croupier. A second toast was proposed--the tawny +queen. This was drunk with a like enthusiasm, and with a like allowance +of the potent spirit; but as bumpers of brandy are not to be repeated +with impunity, it became evident to the president of the board that he +must not repeat his toasts quite so expeditiously. To create a +temporary diversion, therefore, he called for a song. + +The dulcet notes of the fiddle now broke through the clamor; and, in +answer to the call, Jerry Juniper volunteered the following: + + JERRY JUNIPER'S CHANT + + In a box[37] of the stone jug[38] I was born, + Of a hempen widow[39] the kid forlorn. + _Fake away,_ + And my father, as I've heard say, + _Fake away._ + Was a merchant of capers[40] gay, + Who cut his last fling with great applause, + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._[41] + + Who cut his last fling with great applause,[42] + To the tune of a "hearty choke with caper sauce." + _Fake away._ + The knucks in quod[43] did my schoolmen play, + _Fake away,_ + And put me up to the time of day; + Until at last there was none so knowing, + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + Until at last there was none so knowing, + No such sneaksman[44] or buzgloak[45] going. + _Fake away._ + Fogles[46] and fawnies[47] soon went their way, + _Fake away_, + To the spout[48] with the sneezers[49] in grand array. + No dummy hunter[50] had forks[51] so fly; + _Nix my doll pals, fake away_. + + No dummy hunter had forks so fly, + No knuckler[52] so deftly could fake a cly,[53] + _Fake away._ + No slour'd hoxter[54] my snipes[55] could stay, + _Fake away._ + None knap a reader[56] like me in the lay. + Soon then I mounted in swell-street high. + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + Soon then I mounted in swell-street high, + And sported my flashiest toggery[57], + _Fake away._ + Firmly resolved I would make my hay, + _Fake away,_ + While Mercury's star shed a single ray; + And ne'er was there seen such a dashing prig,[58] + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + And ne'er was there seen such a dashing prig, + With my strummel faked in the newest twig.[59] + _Fake away._ + With my fawnied famms,[60] and my onions gay,[61] + _Fake away;_ + My thimble of ridge[62], and my driz kemesa[63]; + All my togs were so niblike[64] and splash, + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + All my togs were so niblike and splash, + Readily the queer screens I then could smash;[65] + _Fake away._ + But my nuttiest blowen,[66] one fine day, + _Fake away,_ + To the beaks[67] did her fancy man betray, + And thus was I bowled out at last[68] + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + + And thus was I bowled out at last, + And into the jug for a lag was cast;[69] + _Fake away._ + But I slipped my darbies[70] one morn in May, + _Fake away,_ + And gave to the dubsman[71] a holiday. + And here I am, pals, merry and free, + A regular rollicking romany.[72] + _Nix my doll pals, fake away._ + +Much laughter and applause rewarded Jerry's attempt to please; and +though the meaning of his chant, even with the aid of the numerous notes +appended to it, may not be quite obvious to our readers, we can assure +them that it was perfectly intelligible to the Canting Crew. Jerry was +now entitled to a call; and happening, at the moment, to meet the fine +dark eyes of a sentimental gipsy, one of that better class of mendicants +who wandered about the country with a guitar at his back, his election +fell upon him. The youth, without prelude, struck up a + + GIPSY SERENADE + + Merry maid, merry maid, wilt thou wander with me? + We will roam through the forest, the meadow, and lea; + We will haunt the sunny bowers, and when day begins to flee, + Our couch shall be the ferny brake, our canopy the tree. + _Merry maid, merry maid, come and wander with me! + No life like the gipsy's, so joyous and free!_ + + Merry maid, merry maid, though a roving life be ours, + We will laugh away the laughing and quickly fleeting hours; + Our hearts are free, as is the free and open sky above, + And we know what tamer souls know not, how lovers ought to love. + _Merry maid, merry maid, come and wander with me! + No life like the gipsy's so joyous and free!_ + +Zoroaster now removed the pipe from his upright lips to intimate his +intention of proposing a toast. + +A universal knocking of knuckles by the knucklers[73] was followed by +profound silence. The sage spoke: + +"The city of Canterbury, pals," said he; "and may it never want a knight +of Malta." + +The toast was pledged with much laughter, and in many bumpers. + +The knight, upon whom all eyes were turned, rose, "with stately bearing +and majestic motion," to return thanks. + +"I return you an infinitude of thanks, brother pals," said he, glancing +round the assemblage; and bowing to the president, "and to you, most +upright Zory, for the honor you have done me in associating my name with +that city. Believe me, I sincerely appreciate the compliment, and echo +the sentiment from the bottom of my soul. I trust it never _will_ want +a knight of Malta. In return for your consideration, but a poor one you +will say, you shall have a ditty, which I composed upon the occasion of +my pilgrimage to that city, and which I have thought proper to name +after myself." + + THE KNIGHT OF MALTA + + _A Canterbury Tale_[74] + + Come list to me, and you shall have, without a hem or haw, sirs, + A Canterbury pilgrimage, much better than old Chaucer's. + 'Tis of a hoax I once played off upon that city clever, + The memory of which, I hope, will stick to it for ever. + _With my coal-black beard, and purple cloak, + jack-boots, and broad-brimmed castor, + Hey-ho! for the knight of Malta!_ + + To execute my purpose, in the first place, you must know, sirs, + My locks I let hang down my neck--my beard and whiskers grow, sirs; + A purple cloak I next clapped on, a sword lagged to my side, sirs, + And mounted on a charger black, I to the town did ride, sirs. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + Two pages were there by my side, upon two little ponies, + Decked out in scarlet uniform, as spruce as macaronies; + Caparisoned my charger was, as grandly as his master, + And o'er my long and curly locks, I wore a broad-brimmed castor. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + The people all flocked forth, amazed to see a man so hairy, + Oh I such a sight had ne'er before been seen in Canterbury! + My flowing robe, my flowing beard, my horse with flowing mane, sirs! + They stared--the days of chivalry, they thought, were come again, sirs! + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + I told them a long rigmarole romance, that did not halt a + Jot, that they beheld in me a real knight of Malta! + Tom a Becket had I sworn I was, that saint and martyr hallowed, + I doubt not just as readily the bait they would have swallowed. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + I rode about, and speechified, and everybody gullied, + The tavern-keepers diddled, and the magistracy bullied; + Like puppets were the townsfolk led in that show they call a raree; + The Gotham sages were a joke to those of Canterbury. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + The theatre I next engaged, where I addressed the crowd, sirs, + And on retrenchment and reform I spouted long and loud, sirs; + On tithes and on taxation I enlarged with skill and zeal, sirs, + Who so able as a Malta knight, the malt tax to repeal, sirs. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + As a candidate I then stepped forth to represent their city, + And my non-election to that place was certainly a pity; + For surely I the fittest was, and very proper, very, + To represent the wisdom and the wit of Canterbury. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + At the trial of some smugglers next, one thing I rather queer did, + And the justices upon the bench I literally _bearded_; + For I swore that I some casks did see, though proved as clear as + day, sirs, + That I happened at the time to be some fifty miles away, sirs. + _With my coal-black beard, &c._ + + This last assertion, I must own, was somewhat of a blunder, + And for perjury indicted they compelled me to knock under; + To my prosperous career this slight error put a stop, sirs, + And thus _crossed_, the knight of Malta was at length obliged to + _hop_, sirs. + _With his coal-black beard, and purple cloak, + jack-boots, and broad-brimmed castor, + Good-by to the knight of Malta._ + +The knight sat down amidst the general plaudits of the company. + +The party, meanwhile, had been increased by the arrival of Luke and the +sexton. The former, who was in no mood for revelry, refused to comply +with his grandsire's solicitation to enter, and remained sullenly at the +door, with his arms folded, and his eyes fixed upon Turpin, whose +movements he commanded through the canvas aperture. The sexton walked up +to Dick, who was seated at the post of honor, and, clapping him upon +the shoulder, congratulated him upon the comfortable position in which +he found him. + +"Ha, ha! Are you there, my old death's-head on a mop-stick?" said +Turpin, with a laugh. "Ain't we merry mumpers, eh? Keeping it up in +style. Sit down, old Noah--make yourself comfortable, Methusalem." + +"What say you to a drop of as fine Nantz as you ever tasted in your +life, old cove?" said Zoroaster. + +"I have no sort of objection to it," returned Peter, "provided you will +all pledge my toast." + +"That I will, were it old Ruffin himself," shouted Turpin. + +"Here's to the three-legged mare," cried Peter. "To the tree that bears +fruit all the year round, and yet has neither bark nor branch. You won't +refuse that toast, Captain Turpin?" + +"Not I," answered Dick; "I owe the gallows no grudge. If, as Jerry's +song says, I must have a 'hearty choke and caper sauce' for my breakfast +one of these fine mornings, it shall never be said that I fell to my +meal without appetite, or neglected saying grace before it. Gentlemen, +here's Peter Bradley's toast: 'The scragging post--the three-legged +mare,' with three times three." + +Appropriate as this sentiment was, it did not appear to be so inviting +to the party as might have been anticipated, and the shouts soon died +away. + +"They like not the thoughts of the gallows," said Turpin to Peter. "More +fools they. A mere bugbear to frighten children, believe me; and never +yet alarmed a brave man. The gallows, pshaw! One can but die once, and +what signifies it how, so that it be over quickly. I think no more of +the last leap into eternity than clearing a five-barred gate. A rope's +end for it! So let us be merry, and make the most of our time, and +that's true philosophy. I know you can throw off a rum chant," added he, +turning to Peter. "I heard you sing last night at the hall. Troll us a +stave, my antediluvian file, and, in the meantime, tip me a gage of +fogus,[75] Jerry; and if that's a bowl of huckle-my-butt[76] you are +brewing, Sir William," added he, addressing the knight of Malta, "you +may send me a jorum at your convenience." + +Jerry handed the highwayman a pipe, together with a tumbler of the +beverage which the knight had prepared, which he pronounced excellent; +and while the huge bowl was passed round to the company, a prelude of +shawms announced that Peter was ready to break into song. + +Accordingly, after the symphony was ended, accompanied at intervals by a +single instrument, Peter began his melody, in a key so high, that the +utmost exertions of the shawm-blower failed to approach its altitudes. +The burden of his minstrelsy was + + THE MANDRAKE[77] + + {Moly de min kaleousi theoi, chalnpon de t' oryssein + Andrasi ge thnetoisi theoi, de te panta dynantai.} + HOMERUS. + + The mandrake grows 'neath the gallows-tree, + And rank and green are its leaves to see; + Green and rank, as the grass that waves + Over the unctuous earth of graves; + And though all around it lie bleak and bare, + Freely the mandrake flourisheth there. + _Maranatha--Anathema! + Dread is the curse of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + + At the foot of the gibbet the mandrake springs; + Just where the creaking carcase swings; + Some have thought it engendered + From the fat that drops from the bones of the dead; + Some have thought it a human thing; + But this is a vain imagining. + _Maranatha--Anathema! + Dread is the curse of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + + A charnel leaf doth the mandrake wear, + A charnel fruit doth the mandrake bear; + Yet none like the mandrake hath such great power, + Such virtue resides not in herb or flower; + Aconite, hemlock, or moonshade, I ween, + None hath a poison so subtle and keen. + _Maranatha--Anathema! + Dread is the curse of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + + And whether the mandrake be create + Flesh with the power incorporate, + I know not; yet, if from the earth 'tis rent, + Shrieks and groans from the root are sent; + Shrieks and groans, and a sweat like gore + Oozes and drops from the clammy core. + _Maranatha--Anathema! + Dread is the curse of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + + Whoso gathereth the mandrake shall surely die; + Blood for blood is his destiny. + Some who have plucked it have died with groans, + Like to the mandrake's expiring moans; + Some have died raving, and some beside-- + With penitent prayers--but _all_ have died. + _Jesu! save us by night and day! + From the terrible death of mandragora! + Euthanasy!_ + +"A queer chant that," said Zoroaster, coughing loudly, in token of +disapprobation. + +"Not much to my taste," quoth the knight of Malta. "We like something +more sprightly in Canterbury." + +"Nor to mine," added Jerry; "don't think it's likely to have an encore. +'Pon my soul, Dick, you must give us something yourself, or we shall +never cry Euthanasy at the Triple Tree." + +"With all my heart," replied Turpin. "You shall have--but what do I see, +my friend Sir Luke? Devil take my tongue, Luke Bradley, I mean. What, +ho! Luke--nay, nay, man, no shrinking--stand forward; I've a word or two +to say to you. We must have a hob-a-nob glass together for old +acquaintance sake. Nay, no airs, man; damme you're not a lord yet, nor a +baronet either, though I do hold your title in my pocket; never look +glum at me. It won't pay. I'm one of the Canting Crew now; no man shall +sneer at me with impunity, eh, Zory? Ha, ha! here's a glass of Nantz; +we'll have a bottle of black strap when you are master of your own. Make +ready there, you gut-scrapers, you shawm-shavers; I'll put your lungs in +play for you presently. In the meantime--charge, pals, charge--a toast, +a toast! Health and prosperity to Sir Luke Rookwood! I see you are +surprised--this, gemmen, is Sir Luke Rookwood, somewhile Luke Bradley, +heir to the house of that name, not ten miles distant from this. Say, +shall we not drink a bumper to his health?" + +Astonishment prevailed amongst the crew. Luke himself had been taken by +surprise. When Turpin discovered him at the door of the tent, and +summoned him to appear, he reluctantly complied with the request; but +when, in a half-bantering vein, Dick began to rally him upon his +pretensions, he would most gladly have retreated, had it been in his +power. It was then too late. He felt he must stand the ordeal. Every eye +was fixed upon him with a look of inquiry. + +Zoroaster took his everlasting pipe from his mouth. + +"This ain't true, sure_ly_?" asked the perplexed Magus. + +"He has said it," replied Luke; "I may not deny it." + +This was sufficient. There was a wild hubbub of delight amongst the +crew, for Luke was a favorite with all. + +"Sir Luke Rookwood!" cried Jerry Juniper, who liked a title as much as +Tommy Moore is said to dote upon a lord. "Upon my soul I sincerely +congratulate you; devilish fortunate fellow. Always cursed unlucky +myself. I could never find out my own father, unless it were one +Monsieur des Capriolles, a French dancing-master, and _he_ never left +anything behind him that I could hear of, except a broken kit and a +hempen widow. Sir Luke Rookwood, we shall do ourselves the pleasure of +drinking your health and prosperity." + +Fresh bumpers and immense cheering. + +Silence being in a measure restored, Zoroaster claimed Turpin's promise +of a song. + +"True, true," replied Dick; "I have not forgotten it. Stand to your +bows, my hearties." + + THE GAME OF HIGH TOBY + + Now Oliver[78] puts his black nightcap on, + And every star its glim[79] is hiding, + And forth to the heath is the scampsman[80] gone, + His matchless cherry-black[81] prancer riding; + Merrily over the common he flies, + Fast and free as the rush of rocket, + His crape-covered vizard drawn over his eyes, + His tol[82] by his side, and his pops[83] in his pocket. + + CHORUS + + _Then who can name + So merry a game, + As the game of all games--high toby?_[84] + + The traveller hears him, away! away! + Over the wide wide heath he scurries; + He heeds not the thunderbolt summons to stay, + But ever the faster and faster he hurries. + But what daisy-cutter can match that black tit? + He is caught--he must "stand and deliver;" + Then out with the dummy[85], and off with the bit,[86] + Oh! the game of high toby for ever! + + CHORUS + + _Then who can name + So merry a game, + As the game of all games--high toby?_ + + Believe me, there is not a game, my brave boys, + To compare with the game of high toby; + No rapture can equal the tobyman's joys, + To blue devils, blue plumbs[87] give the go-by; + And what if, at length, boys, he come to the crap![88] + Even rack punch has _some_ bitter in it, + For the mare-with-three-legs[89], boys, I care not a rap, + 'Twill be over in less than a minute. + + GRAND CHORUS + + _Then hip, hurrah! + Fling care away! + Hurrah for the game of high toby!_ + +"And now, pals," said Dick, who began to feel the influence of these +morning cups, "I vote that we adjourn. Believe me I shall always bear in +mind that I am a brother of your band. Sir Luke and I must have a little +chat together ere I take my leave. Adieu!" + +And taking Luke by the arm, he walked out of the tent. Peter Bradley +rose, and followed them. + +At the door they found the dwarfish Grasshopper with Black Bess. +Rewarding the urchin for his trouble, and slipping the bridle of his +mare over his hand, Turpin continued his walk over the green. For a few +minutes he seemed to be lost in rumination. + +"I tell you what, Sir Luke," said he; "I should like to do a generous +thing, and make you a present of this bit of paper. But one ought not to +throw away one's luck, you know--there is a tide in the affairs of +thieves, as the player coves say, which must be taken at the flood, or +else----no matter! Your old dad, Sir Piers--God help him!--had the +gingerbread, _that_ I know; he was, as we say, a regular rhino-cerical +cull. You won't feel a few thousands, especially at starting; and +besides, there are two others, Rust and Wilder, who row in the same boat +with me, and must therefore come in for their share of the reg'lars. +All this considered, you can't complain, I think if I ask five thousand +for it. That old harridan, Lady Rookwood, offered me nearly as much." + +"I will not talk to you of fairness," said Luke; "I will not say that +document belongs of right to me. It fell by accident into your hands. +Having possessed yourself of it, I blame you not that you dispose of it +to the best advantage. I must, perforce, agree to your terms." + +"Oh, no," replied Dick, "it's quite optional; Lady Rookwood will give as +much, and make no mouths about it. Soho, lass! What makes Bess prick her +ears in that fashion?--Ha! carriage-wheels in the distance! that jade +knows the sound as well as I do. I'll just see what it's like!--you will +have ten minutes for reflection. Who knows if I may not have come in for +a good thing here?" + +At that instant the carriage passed the angle of a rock some three +hundred yards distant, and was seen slowly ascending the hill-side. +Eager as a hawk after his quarry, Turpin dashed after it. + +In vain the sexton, whom he nearly overthrew in his career, called after +him to halt. He sped like a bolt from the bow. + +"May the devil break his neck!" cried Peter, as he saw him dash through +the brook; "could he not let them alone?" + +"This must not be," said Luke; "know you whose carriage it is?" + +"It is a shrine that holds the jewel that should be dearest in your +eyes," returned Peter; "haste, and arrest the spoiler's hand." + +"Whom do you mean?" asked Luke. + +"Eleanor Mowbray," replied Peter. "She is there. To the rescue--away." + +"Eleanor Mowbray!" echoed Luke--"and Sybil?----" + +At this instant a pistol-shot was heard. + +"Will you let murder be done, and upon your cousin?" cried Peter, with a +bitter look. "You are not what I took you for." + +Luke answered not, but, swift as the hound freed from the leash, darted +in the direction of the carriage. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI_ + +_ELEANOR MOWBRAY_ + + ----Mischiefs + Are like the visits of Franciscan friars, + They never come to prey upon us single. + + _Devil's Law Case._ + + +The course of our tale returns now to Eleanor Mowbray. After she had +parted from Ranulph Rookwood, and had watched him disappear beneath the +arches of the church porch, her heart sank, and, drawing herself back +within the carriage, she became a prey to the most poignant affliction. +In vain she endeavored to shake off this feeling of desolation. It would +not be. Despair had taken possession of her; the magic fabric of delight +melted away, or only gleamed to tantalize, at an unreachable distance. A +presentiment that Ranulph would never be hers had taken root in her +imagination, and overshadowed all the rest. + +While Eleanor pursued this train of reflection, the time insensibly wore +away, until the sudden stoppage of the carriage aroused the party from +their meditation. Major Mowbray perceived that the occasion of the halt +was the rapid advance of a horseman, who was nearing them at full speed. +The appearance of the rider was somewhat singular, and might have +created some uneasiness as to the nature of his approach, had not the +major immediately recognized a friend; he was, nevertheless, greatly +surprised to see him, and turned to Mrs. Mowbray to inform her that +Father Ambrose, to his infinite astonishment, was coming to meet them, +and appeared, from his manner, to be the bearer of unwelcome tidings. + +Father Ambrose was, perhaps, the only being whom Eleanor disliked. She +had felt an unaccountable antipathy towards him, which she could neither +extirpate nor control, during their long and close intimacy. It may be +necessary to mention that her religious culture had been in accordance +with the tenets of the Romish Church, in whose faith--the faith of her +ancestry--her mother had continued; and that Father Ambrose, with whom +she had first become acquainted during the residence of the family near +Bordeaux, was her ghostly adviser and confessor. An Englishman by birth, +he had been appointed pastor to the diocese in which they dwelt, and +was, consequently, a frequent visitor, almost a constant inmate of the +chateau; yet though duty and respect would have prompted her to regard +the father with affection, Eleanor could never conquer the feelings of +dislike and distrust which she had at first entertained towards him; a +dislike which was increased by the strange control in which he seemed to +hold her mother, who regarded him with a veneration approaching to +infatuation. It was, therefore, with satisfaction that she bade him +adieu. He had, however, followed his friends to England under a feigned +name as--being a recusant Romish priest, and supposed to have been +engaged in certain Jesuitical plots, his return to his own country was +attended with considerable risk--, and had now remained domesticated +with them for some months. That he had been in some way, in early life, +connected with a branch of the house of Rookwood, Eleanor was aware--she +fancied he might have been engaged in political intrigue with Sir +Reginald, which would have well accorded with his ardent, ambitious +temperament--, and the knowledge of this circumstance made her doubly +apprehensive lest the nature of his present communication should have +reference to her lover, towards whose cause the father had never been +favorable, and respecting whose situation he might have made some +discovery, which she feared he might use to Ranulph's disadvantage. + +Wrapped in a long black cloak, with a broad-brimmed hat drawn closely +over his brows, it was impossible to distinguish further of the priest's +figure and features beyond the circumstance of his height, which was +remarkable, until he had reached the carriage window, when, raising his +hat, he disclosed a head that Titian might have painted, and which, +arising from the dark drapery, looked not unlike the visage of some +grave and saturnine Venetian. There was a venerable expanse of forehead, +thinly scattered with hair, towering over black pent-house-like brows, +which, in their turn, shadowed keen penetrating eyes; the temples were +hollow, and blue veins might be traced beneath the sallow skin; the +cheek-bones were high, and there was something in the face that spoke of +self-mortification; while the thin livid lips, closely compressed, and +the austere and sinister expression of his countenance, showed that his +self-abasement, if he had ever practised it, had scarcely prostrated the +demon of pride, whose dominion might still be traced in the lines and +furrows of his haughty physiognomy. The father looked at Mrs. Mowbray, +and then glanced suspiciously at Eleanor. The former appeared to +understand him. + +"You would say a word to me in private," said Mrs. Mowbray; "shall I +descend?" + +The priest bowed assent. + +"It is not to you alone that my mission extends," said he, gravely; "you +are all in part concerned; your son had better alight with you." + +"Instantly," replied the major. "If you will give your horse in charge +to the postilion, we will attend you at once." + +With a feeling of renewed apprehension, connected, she knew not why, +with Ranulph, Eleanor beheld her relatives descend from the carriage; +and, in the hope of gaining some clue from their gestures to the subject +of their conversation, she watched their motions as narrowly as her +situation permitted. From the earnest manner of the priest, and the +interest his narrative seemed to excite in his hearers, it was evident +that his communication was of importance. + +Presently, accompanied by Father Ambrose, Mrs. Mowbray returned to the +carriage, while the major, mounting the priest's horse, after bidding a +hasty adieu to his sister, adding, with a look that belied the +consolation intended to be conveyed by his words, that "all was well," +but without staying to offer her any explanation of the cause of his +sudden departure, rode back the way they had just traversed, and in the +direction of Rookwood. Bereft of the only person to whom she could have +applied for information, though dying with curiosity and anxiety to know +the meaning of this singular interview and of the sudden change of plans +which she felt so intimately concerned herself, Eleanor was constrained +to preserve silence, as, after their entrance into the carriage, her +mother again seemed lost in painful reflection, and heeded her not; and +the father, drawing from his pocket a small volume, appeared intently +occupied in its perusal. + +"Dear mother," said Eleanor, at length, turning to Mrs. Mowbray, "my +brother is gone----" + +"To Rookwood," said Mrs. Mowbray, in a tone calculated to check further +inquiry; but Eleanor was too anxious to notice it. + +"And wherefore, mother?" said she. "May I not be informed?" + +"Not as yet, my child--not as yet," replied Mrs. Mowbray. "You will +learn all sufficiently early." + +The priest raised his cat-like eyes from the book to watch the effect of +this speech, and dropped them instantly as Eleanor turned towards him. +She had been about to appeal to him, but having witnessed this look, she +relinquished her scarce-formed purpose, and endeavored to divert her +tristful thoughts by gazing through the glimmering medium of her tears +upon the soothing aspect of external nature--that aspect which, in +sunshine or in storm, has ever relief in store for a heart embittered by +the stormy coldness of the world. + +The road, meanwhile, led them through a long woody valley, and was now +climbing the sides of a steep hill. They were soon in the vicinity of +the priory, and of the gipsies' encampment. The priest leaned forward, +and whispered something in Mrs. Mowbray's ear, who looked towards the +ruined shrine, part of the mouldering walls being visible from the road. + +At the moment the clatter of a horse's hoofs, and the sound of a loud +voice, commanding the postilion, in a menacing tone, to stop, +accompanied by a volley of imprecations, interrupted the conference, and +bespoke the approach of an unwelcome intruder, and one whom all, too +truly, feared would not be readily dismissed. The postilion did his best +to rid them of the assailant. Perceiving a masked horseman behind him, +approaching at a furious rate, he had little doubt as to his intentions, +and Turpin, for it was our highwayman, soon made his doubts certainties. +He hallooed to him to stop; but the fellow paid no attention to his +command, and disregarded even the pistol which he saw, in a casual +glimpse over his near side, presented at his person. Clapping spurs into +his horse's flanks, he sought succor in flight. Turpin was by his side +in an instant. As the highwayman endeavored to catch his reins, the lad +suddenly wheeled the carriage right upon him, and but for the dexterity +of Turpin, and the clever conduct of his mare, would inevitably have +crushed him against the roadside. As it was, his left leg was slightly +grazed. Irritated at this, Turpin fired over the man's head, and with +the butt-end of the pistol felled him from his seat. Startled by the +sound, and no longer under the governance of their rider, the horses +rushed with frantic violence towards a ditch that bounded the other side +of the highway, down which the carriage was precipitated, and at once +overturned. Turpin's first act, after he had ascertained that no +mischief had been occasioned to those within, beyond the alarm incident +to the shock, was to compel the postilion, who had by this time gained +his legs, to release the horses from their traces. This done, with the +best grace he could assume, and, adjusting his mask, he opened the +carriage, and proceeded to liberate the captives. + +"Beg pardon, ma'am," said he, as soon as he had released Mrs. Mowbray; +"excessively sorry, upon my soul, to have been the cause of so much +unnecessary alarm to you--all the fault, I assure you, of that rascal of +a postilion; had the fellow only pulled up when I commanded him, this +botheration might have been avoided. You will remember that, when you +pay him--all his fault, I assure you, ma'am." + +Receiving no reply, he proceeded to extricate Eleanor, with whose beauty +the inflammable highwayman was instantly smitten. Leaving the father to +shift for himself, he turned to address some observation of coarse +gallantry to her; but she eluded his grasp, and flew to her mother's +side. + +"It is useless, sir," said Mrs. Mowbray, as Turpin drew near them, "to +affect ignorance of your intentions. You have already occasioned us +serious alarm; much delay and inconvenience. I trust, therefore, that +beyond our purses, to which, though scantily supplied, you are welcome, +we shall sustain no molestation. You seem to have less of the ruffian +about you than the rest of your lawless race, and are not, I should +hope, destitute of common humanity." + +"Common humanity!" replied Turpin: "bless you, ma'am, I'm the most +humane creature breathing--would not hurt a fly, much less a lady. +Incivility was never laid to my charge. This business may be managed in +a few seconds; and as soon as we have settled the matter, I'll lend your +stupid jack-boy a hand to put the horses to the carriage again, and get +the wheels out of the ditch. You have a banker, ma'am, I suppose, in +town--perhaps in the country; but I don't like country bankers; besides, +I want a little ready cash in Rumville--beg pardon, ma'am, London I +mean. My ears have been so stunned with those Romany patterers, I +almost _think_ in flash. Just draw me a check; I've pen and ink always +ready: a check for fifty pounds, ma'am--only fifty. What's your banker's +name? I've blank checks of all the best houses in my pocket; that and a +kiss from the pretty lips of that cherry-cheeked maid," winking to +Eleanor, "will fully content me. You see you have neither an exorbitant +nor uncivil personage to deal with." + +Eleanor shrank closer towards her mother. Exhausted by previous +agitation of the night, greatly frightened by the shock which she had +just sustained, and still more alarmed by the words and gestures of the +highwayman, she felt that she was momentarily in danger of fainting, and +with difficulty prevented herself from falling. The priest, who had +succeeded in freeing himself from the carriage, now placed himself +between Turpin and the ladies. + +"Be satisfied, misguided man," said the father, in a stern voice, +offering a purse, which Mrs. Mowbray hastily extended towards him, "with +the crime you have already committed, and seek not to peril your soul by +deeper guilt; be content with the plunder you now obtain, and depart; +for, by my holy calling, I affirm to you, that if you advance one +footstep towards the further molestation of these ladies, it shall be at +the hazard of your life." + +"Bravo!" exclaimed Turpin. "Now this is what I like; who would have +thought the old autem-bawler had so much pluck in him? Sir, I commend +you for your courage, but you are mistaken. I am the quietest man +breathing, and never harm a human being; in proof of which, only look at +your rascal of a postilion, whom any one of my friends would have sent +post-haste to the devil for half the trouble he gave me. Easy as I am, I +never choose to be balked in my humors. I must have the fifty and the +buss, and then I'm off, as soon as you like; and I may as well have the +kiss while the old lady signs the check, and then we shall have the seal +as well as the signature. Poh--poh--no nonsense! Many a pretty lass has +thought it an honor to be kissed by Turpin." + +Eleanor recoiled with deepest disgust, as she saw the highwayman thrust +aside the useless opposition of the priest, and approach her. He had +removed his mask; his face, flushed with insolent triumph, was turned +towards her. Despite the loathing, which curdled the blood within her +veins, she could not avert her eyes. He drew near her; she uttered a +shrill scream. At that moment a powerful grasp was laid upon Turpin's +shoulder; he turned and beheld Luke. + +"Save me! save me," cried Eleanor, addressing the new comer. + +"Damnation!" said the highwayman, "what has brought _you_ here? one +would think you were turned assistant to all distressed damsels. Quit +your hold, or, by the God above us, you will repent it." + +"Fool!" exclaimed Luke, "talk thus to one who heeds you." And as he +spoke he hurled Turpin backwards with so much force that, staggering a +few yards, the highwayman fell to the ground. + +The priest stood like one stunned with surprise at Luke's sudden +appearance and subsequent daring action. + +Luke, meanwhile, approached Eleanor. He gazed upon her with curiosity +mixed with admiration, for his heart told him she was very fair. A +deathlike paleness had spread over her cheeks; yet still, despite the +want of color, she looked exquisitely beautiful, and her large blue eyes +eloquently thanked her deliverer for her rescue. The words she wanted +were supplied by Mrs. Mowbray, who thanked him in appropriate terms, +when they were interrupted by Turpin, who had by this time picked +himself up, and was drawing near them. His countenance wore a fierce +expression. + +"I tell you what," said he, "Luke Bradley, or Luke Rookwood, or whatever +else you may call yourself, you have taken a damned unfair advantage of +me in this matter, and deserve nothing better at my hands than that I +should call you to instant account for it--and curse me, if I don't +too." + +"Luke Bradley!" interrupted Mrs. Mowbray--"are you that individual?" + +"I have been so called, madam," replied Luke. + +"Father Ambrose, is this the person of whom you spoke?" eagerly asked +the lady. + +"So I conclude," returned the priest, evasively. + +"Did he not call you Luke Rookwood?" eagerly demanded Eleanor. "Is that +also your name?" + +"Rookwood is my name, fair cousin," replied Luke, "if I may venture to +call you so." + +"And Ranulph Rookwood is----" + +"My brother." + +"I never heard he had a brother," rejoined Eleanor, with some agitation. +"How can that be?" + +"I am his brother, nevertheless," replied Luke, moodily--"his ELDER +BROTHER!" + +Eleanor turned to her mother and the priest with a look of imploring +anguish; she saw a confirmation of the truth of this statement in their +glances. No contradiction was offered by either to his statement; both, +indeed, appeared in some mysterious manner prepared for it. This, then, +was the dreaded secret. This was the cause of her brother's sudden +departure. The truth flashed with lightning swiftness across her brain. + +Chagrined and mortified, Luke remarked that glance of inquiry. His pride +was hurt at the preference thus naturally shown towards his brother. He +had been struck, deeply struck, with her beauty. He acknowledged the +truth of Peter's words. Eleanor's loveliness was without parallel. He +had seen naught so fair, and the instant he beheld her, he felt that for +_her_ alone could he cancel his vows to Sybil. The spirit of rivalry and +jealousy was instantly aroused by Eleanor's exclamations. + +"His elder brother!" echoed Eleanor, dwelling upon his words, and +addressing Luke--"then you must be--but no, you are not, you cannot +be--it is Ranulph's title--it is not yours--you are not----" + +"I am Sir Luke Rookwood," replied Luke, proudly. + +Ere the words were uttered Eleanor had fainted. + +"Assistance is at hand, madam, if you will accept it, and follow me," +said Luke, raising the insensible girl in his arms, and bearing her down +the hill towards the encampment, whither he was followed by Mrs. Mowbray +and the priest, between whom, during the hurried dialogue we have +detailed, very significant glances had been exchanged. Turpin, who, as +it may be supposed, had not been an incurious observer of the scene +passing, burst into his usual loud laugh on seeing Luke bear away his +lovely burden. + +"Cousin! Ha, ha!" said he. "So the wench is his cousin. Damme, I half +suspect he has fallen in love with his new-found cousin; and if so, Miss +Sybil, or I'm mistaken, will look as yellow as a guinea. If that little +Spanish devil gets it into her pretty jealous pate that he is about to +bring home a new mistress, we shall have a tragedy-scene in the +twinkling of a bed-post. However, I shan't lose sight of Sir Luke until +I have settled my accounts with him. Hark ye, boy," continued he, +addressing the postilion; "remain where you are; you won't be wanted yet +awhile, I imagine. There's a guinea for you, to drink Dick Turpin's +health." + +Upon which he mounted his mare, and walked her easily down the hill. + +"And so that be Dick Turpin, folks talk so much about," soliloquized the +lad, looking curiously after him; "well, he's as civil-speaking a chap +as need be, blow my boots if he ain't! and if I'd had a notion it were +he, I'd have pulled up at first call, without more ado. Nothing like +experience--I shall know better another time," added he, pocketing the +douceur. + +Rushing swiftly down the hill, Luke tarried at the river's brink, to +sprinkle some of the cool element upon the pale brow of Eleanor. As he +held her in his arms, thoughts which he fain would have stifled in their +birth took possession of his heart. "Would she were mine!" murmured he. +"Yet no! the wish is unworthy." But that wish returned unbidden. + +Eleanor opened her eyes. She was still too weak to walk without support, +and Luke, raising her once more in his arms, and motioning Mrs. Mowbray +to follow, crossed the brook by means of stepping-stones, and conducted +his charge along a bypath towards the priory, so as to avoid meeting +with the crew assembled upon the green. + +They had gained one of the roofless halls, when he encountered +Balthazar. Astonished at the sight of the party, the patrico was about +to address the priest as an acquaintance, when his more orthodox brother +raised his finger to his lips, in token of caution. The action passed +unobserved. + +"Hie thee to Sybil," said Luke to the patrico. "Bid her haste hither. +Say that this maiden--that Miss Mowbray is here, and requires her aid. +Fly! I will bear her to the refectory." + +As Balthazar passed the priest, he pointed with a significant glance +towards a chasm in the wall, which seemed to be an opening to some +subterraneous chamber. The father again made a gesture of silence, and +Balthazar hastened upon his mission. + +Luke led them to the refectory. He brought a chair for Eleanor's +support; but so far from reviving, after such attention as could be +afforded her, she appeared to become weaker. He was about to issue forth +in search of Sybil, when to his surprise he found the door fastened. + +"You cannot pass this way," said a voice, which Luke instantly +recognized as that of the knight of Malta. + +"Not pass!" echoed Luke. "What does this mean?" + +"Our orders are from the queen," returned the knight. + +At this instant the low tone of a muffled bell was heard. + +"Ha!" exclaimed Luke; "some danger is at hand." + +His heart smote him as he thought of Sybil, and he looked anxiously +towards Eleanor. + +Balthazar rushed into the room. + +"Where is Sybil?" cried Luke. "Will she not come?" + +"She will be here anon," answered the patrico. + +"I will seek her myself, then," said Luke. "The door by which you +entered is free." + +"It is _not_ free," replied Balthazar. "Remain where you are." + +"Who will prevent my going forth?" demanded Luke, sternly. + +"I will," said Barbara Lovel, as she suddenly appeared in the doorway. +"You stir not, excepting at my pleasure. Where is the maiden?" continued +she, looking around with a grim smile of satisfaction at the +consternation produced by her appearance. "Ha! I see; she faints. Here +is a cordial that shall revive her. Mrs. Mowbray, you are welcome to the +gipsies' dwelling--you and your daughter. And you, Sir Luke Rookwood, I +congratulate you upon your accession of dignity." Turning to the priest, +who was evidently overwhelmed with confusion, she exclaimed, "And you +too, sir, think you I recognize you not? We have met ere this, at +Rookwood. Know you not Barbara Lovel? Ha, ha! It is long since my poor +dwelling has been so highly honored. But I must not delay the remedy. +Let her drink of this," said she, handing a phial to Mrs. Mowbray. "It +will instantly restore her." + +"It is poison," cried Luke. "She shall not drink it." + +"Poison!" reiterated Barbara. "Behold!" and she drank of the liquid. "I +would not poison your bride," added she, turning to Luke. + +"My bride!" echoed Luke. + +"Ay, your bride," repeated Barbara. + +Luke recoiled in amazement. Mrs. Mowbray almost felt inclined to believe +she was a dreamer, so visionary did the whole scene appear. A dense +crowd of witnesses stood at the entrance. Foremost amongst them was the +sexton. Suddenly a shriek was heard, and the crowd opening to allow her +passage, Sybil rushed forward. + + + + +_CHAPTER VII_ + +_MRS. MOWBRAY_ + + Well, go thy ways, old Nick Machiavel, there will never be the peer + of thee for wholesome policy and good counsel: thou took'st pains to + chalk men out the dark paths and hidden plots of murther and deceit, + and no man has the grace to follow thee. The age is unthankful, thy + principles are quite forsaken, and worn out of memory. + + SHAKERLEY MARMION'S _Antiquary_. + + +Sybil's sudden entrance filled the group that surrounded Miss Mowbray +with new dismay. But she saw them not. Her soul seemed riveted by +Eleanor, towards whom she rushed; and while her eye wandered over her +beauty, she raised the braided hair from her brow, revealing the clear, +polished forehead. Wonder, awe, devotion, pity, usurped the place of +hatred. The fierce expression that had lit up her dark orbs was +succeeded by tender commiseration. She looked an imploring appeal at +Barbara. + +"Ay, ay," returned the old gipsy, extending at the same time the phial; +"I understand. Here is that will bring the blood once more into her +pallid cheeks, and kindle the fire within her eyes. Give her of this." + +The effect of the potion was almost instantaneous, amply attesting +Barbara's skill in its concoction. Stifled respiration first proclaimed +Eleanor's recovery. She opened her large and languid eyes; her bosom +heaved almost to bursting; her pulses throbbed quickly and feverishly; +and as the stimulant operated, the wild lustre of excitement blazed in +her eyes. + +Sybil took her hand to chafe it. The eyes of the two maidens met. They +gazed upon each other steadfastly and in silence. Eleanor knew not whom +she regarded, but she could not mistake that look of sympathy; she could +not mistake the tremulous pressure of her hand; she felt the silent +trickling tears. She returned the sympathizing glance, and gazed with +equal wonder upon the ministering fairy, for such she almost seemed, +that knelt before her. As her looks wandered from the kindly glance of +Sybil to the withered and inauspicious aspect of the gipsy queen, and +shifted thence to the dusky figures of her attendants, filled with +renewed apprehension, she exclaimed, "Who are these, and where am I?" + +"You are in safety," replied Luke. "This is the ruined priory of St. +Francis; and those strange personages are a horde of gipsies. You need +fear no injury from them." + +"My deliverer!" murmured Eleanor; when all at once the recollection that +he had avowed himself a Rookwood, and the elder brother of Ranulph, +flashed across her memory. "Gipsies! did you not say these people were +gipsies? Your own attire is the same as theirs. You are not, cannot be, +the brother of Ranulph." + +"I do not boast the same mother," returned Luke, proudly, "but my father +was Sir Piers Rookwood, and I am his elder born." + +He turned away. Dark thoughts swept across his brain. Maddened by the +beauty of Eleanor, stung by her slights, and insensible to the silent +agony of Sybil, who sought in vain to catch his eye, he thought of +nothing but of revenge, and the accomplishment of his purposes. All +within was a wild and fearful turmoil. His better principles were +stifled by the promptings of evil. "Methinks," cried he, half aloud, "if +the Tempter were near to offer the maiden to me, even at the peril of my +soul's welfare, I could not resist it." + +The Tempter _was_ at hand. He is seldom absent on occasions like the +present. The sexton stood beside his grandson. Luke started. He eyed +Peter from head to foot, almost expecting to find the cloven foot, +supposed to be proper to the fiend. Peter grinned in ghastly derision. + +"Soh! you would summon hell to your aid; and lo! the devil is at your +elbow. Well, she is yours." + +"Make good your words," cried Luke, impatiently. + +"Softly--softly," returned Peter. "Moderate yourself, and your wishes +shall be accomplished. Your own desires chime with those of others; nay, +with those of Barbara. _She_ would wed you to Miss Mowbray. You stare. +But it is so. This is a cover for some deeper plot; no matter. It shall +go hard, despite her cunning, if I foil her not at her own weapons. +There is more mischief in that old woman's brain than was ever hatched +within the crocodile's egg; yet she shall find her match. Do not thwart +her; leave all to me. She is about it now," added he, noticing Barbara +and Mrs. Mowbray in conference together. "Be patient--I will watch her." +And he quitted his grandson for the purpose of scanning more closely the +man[oe]uvres of the old gipsy. + +Barbara, meanwhile, had not remained inactive. + +"You need fear no relapse in your daughter; I will answer for that," +said the old gipsy to Mrs. Mowbray; "Sybil will tend her. Quit not the +maiden's side," continued she, addressing her grandchild, adding, in a +whisper, "Be cautious--alarm her not--mine eye will be upon you--drop +not a word." + +So saying, she shuffled to a little distance with Mrs. Mowbray, keeping +Sybil in view, and watching every motion, as the panther watches the +gambols of a fawn. + +"Know you who speaks to you?" said the old crone, in the peculiar low +and confidential tone assumed by her tribe to strangers. "Have you +forgotten the name of Barbara Lovel?" + +"I have no distinct remembrance of it," returned Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Think again," said Barbara; "and though years are flown, you may +perchance recall the black gipsy woman, who, when you were surrounded +with gay gallants, with dancing plumes, perused your palm, and whispered +in your ear the favored suitor's name. Bide with me a moment, madam," +said Barbara, seeing that Mrs. Mowbray shrank from the recollection thus +conjured up; "I am old--very old; I have survived the shows of flattery, +and being vested with a power over my people, am apt, perchance, to take +too much upon myself with others." The old gipsy paused here, and then, +assuming a more familiar tone, exclaimed, "The estates of Rookwood are +ample----" + +"Woman, what mean you?" + +"They should have been yours, lady, and would have been, but for that +marriage. You would have beseemed them bravely. Sir Reginald was wilful, +and erased the daughter's name to substitute that of his son. Pity it is +that so fair a creature as Miss Mowbray should lack the dower her beauty +and her birth entitle her to expect. Pity that Ranulph Rookwood should +lose his title, at the moment when he deemed it was dropping into his +possession. Pity that those broad lands should pass away from you and +your children, as they will do, if Ranulph and Eleanor are united." + +"They never shall be united," replied Mrs. Mowbray, hastily. + +"'Twere indeed to wed your child to beggary," said Barbara. + +Mrs. Mowbray sighed deeply. + +"There is a way," continued the old crone, in a deep whisper, "by which +the estates might still be hers and yours." + +"Indeed!" said Mrs. Mowbray, eagerly. + +"Sir Piers Rookwood had two sons." + +"Ha!" + +"The elder is here." + +"Luke--Sir Luke. He brought us hither." + +"He loves your daughter. I saw his gaze of passion just now. I am old +now, but I have some skill in lovers' glances. Why not wed her to him? I +read hands--read hearts, you know. They were born for each other. Now, +madam, do you understand me?" + +"But," returned Mrs. Mowbray, with hesitation, "though I might wish +for--though I might sanction this, Eleanor is betrothed to Ranulph--she +loves him." + +"Think not of _her_, if _you_ are satisfied. She cannot judge so well +for herself as you can for her. She is a child, and knows not what she +loves. Her affection will soon be Luke's. He is a noble youth--the image +of his grandfather, your father, Sir Reginald; and if your daughter be +betrothed to any one, 'twas to the heir of Rookwood. That was an +essential part of the contract. Why should the marriage not take place +at once, and here?" + +"Here! How were that possible?" + +"You are within sacred walls. I will take you where an altar stands. +There is no lack of holy priest to join their hands together. Your +companion, Father Ambrose, as you call him, will do the office +fittingly. He has essayed his clerkly skill already on others of your +house." + +"To what do you allude, mysterious woman?" asked Mrs. Mowbray, with +anxiety. + +"To Sir Piers and Susan Bradley," returned Barbara. "That priest united +them." + +"Indeed! He never told me this." + +"He dared not do so; he had an oath which bound him to concealment. The +time is coming when greater mysteries will be revealed." + +"'Tis strange I should not have heard of this before," said Mrs. +Mowbray, musingly; "and yet I might have guessed as much from his +obscure hints respecting Ranulph. I see it all now. I see the gulf into +which I might have been plunged; but I am warned in time. Father +Ambrose," continued she, to the priest, who was pacing the chamber at +some little distance from them, "is it true that my brother was wedded +by you to Susan Bradley?" + +Ere the priest could reply the sexton presented himself. + +"Ha, the very father of the girl!" said Mrs. Mowbray, "whom I met within +our family vault, and who was so strangely moved when I spoke to him of +Alan Rookwood. Is he here likewise?" + +"Alan Rookwood!" echoed Barbara, upon whom a light seemed suddenly to +break; "ha! what said he of him?" + +"Ill-boding raven," interposed Peter, fiercely, "be content with what +thou knowest of the living, and trouble not the repose of the dead. Let +them rest in their infamy." + +"The dead!" echoed Barbara, with a chuckling laugh; "ha! ha! he is dead, +then; and what became of his fair wife--his brother's minion? 'Twas a +foul deed, I grant, and yet there was expiation. Blood flowed--blood----" + +"Silence, thou night hag!" thundered Peter, "or I will have thee burned +at the stake for the sorcery thou practisest. Beware," added he, in a +deep tone--"I am thy friend." + +Barbara's withered countenance exhibited for an instant the deepest +indignation at the sexton's threat. The malediction trembled on her +tongue; she raised her staff to smite him, but she checked the action. +In the same tone, and with a sharp, suspicious look, she replied, "My +_friend_, sayest thou? See that it prove so, or beware of _me_." + +And, with a malignant scowl, the gipsy queen slowly shuffled towards her +satellites, who were stationed at the door. + + + + +_CHAPTER VIII_ + +_THE PARTING_ + + No marriage I esteem it, where the friends + Force love upon their children; where the virgin + Is not so truly given as betrayed. + I would not have betrothed people--for + I can by no means call them lovers--make + Their rites no wedlock, but a sacrifice. + + _Combat of Love and Friendship._ + + +Eleanor Mowbray had witnessed her mother's withdrawal from her side with +much uneasiness, and was with difficulty prevented by Sybil from +breaking upon her conference with the gipsy queen. Barbara's dark eye +was fixed upon them during the whole of the interview, and communicated +an indefinite sense of dread to Eleanor. + +"Who--who is that old woman?" asked Eleanor, under her breath. "Never, +even in my wildest dreams, have I seen aught so terrible. Why does she +look so at us? She terrifies me; and yet she cannot mean me ill, or my +mother--we have never injured her?" + +"Alas!" sighed Sybil. + +"You sigh!" exclaimed Eleanor, in alarm. "Is there any real danger, +then? Help us to avoid it. Quick, warn my mother; she seems agitated. +Oh, let me go to her." + +"Hush!" whispered Sybil, maintaining an unmoved demeanor under the +lynx-like gaze of Barbara. "Stir not, as you value your life; you know +not where you are, or what may befall you. Your safety depends upon your +composure. Your life is not in danger; but what is dearer than life, +your love, is threatened with a fatal blow. There is a dark design to +wed you to another." + +"Heavens!" ejaculated Eleanor, "and to whom?" + +"To Sir Luke Rookwood." + +"I would die sooner! Marry _him_? They shall kill me ere they force me +to it!" + +"Could you not love him?" + +"Love him! I have only seen him within this hour. I knew not of his +existence. He rescued me from peril. I would thank him. I would love +him, if I could, for Ranulph's sake; and yet for Ranulph's sake I hate +him." + +"Speak not of him thus to me," said Sybil, angrily. "If _you_ love him +not, _I_ love him. Oh! forgive me, lady; pardon my impatience--my heart +is breaking, yet it has not ceased to beat for him. You say you will die +sooner than consent to this forced union. Your faith shall not be so +cruelly attested. If there must be a victim, I will be the sacrifice. +God grant I may be the only one. Be happy! as happy as I am wretched. +You shall see what the love of a gipsy can do." + +As she spoke, Sybil burst into a flood of passionate tears. Eleanor +regarded her with the deepest commiseration; but the feeling was +transient; for Barbara, now advancing, exclaimed: "Hence to your mother. +The bridegroom is waiting: to your mother, girl!" And she motioned +Eleanor fiercely away. "What means this?" continued the old gipsy. "What +have you said to that girl? Did I not caution you against speech with +her? and you have dared to disobey me. You, my grandchild--the daughter +of my Agatha, with whom my slightest wish was law. I abandon you! I +curse you!" + +"Oh, curse me not!" cried Sybil. "Add not to my despair." + +"Then follow my advice implicitly. Cast off this weakness; all is in +readiness. Luke shall descend into the vaulted chapel, the ceremony +shall there take place--there also shall Eleanor _die_--and there again +shall you be wedded. Take this phial, place it within the folds of your +girdle. When all is over, I will tell you how to use it. Are you +prepared? Shall we set out?" + +"I am prepared," replied Sybil, in accents hollow as despair; "but let +me speak with Luke before we go." + +"Be brief, then--each moment is precious. Keep a guard upon your tongue. +I will to Mrs. Mowbray. You have placed the phial in safety. A drop will +free you from your troubles." + +"'Tis in that hope I guard it," replied Sybil, as she departed in the +direction of Luke. Barbara watched her join him, and then turned shortly +towards Mrs. Mowbray and her daughter. + +"You are ill, dear Luke," said Sybil, who had silently approached her +faithless lover; "very ill." + +"Ill!" echoed Luke, breaking into frantic laughter. "Ill! Ha, ha!--upon +my wedding-day. No, I am well--well. Your eyes are jaundiced by +jealousy." + +"Luke, dear Luke, laugh not thus. It terrifies me. I shall think you +insane. There, you are calmer--you are more like yourself--more human. +You looked just now--oh God! that I should say it of you--as if you were +possessed by demons." + +"And if I were possessed, what then?" + +"Horrible! hint not at it. You almost make me credit the dreadful tales +I have heard, that on their wedding-day the Rookwoods are subject to the +power of the 'Evil One.'" + +"Upon their wedding-day--and _I_ look thus?" + +"You do--you do. Oh! cast this frenzy from you." + +"She is mine--she is mine! I care not though fiends possess me, if it is +my wedding-day, and Eleanor is my bride. And you say I look like a +Rookwood. Ha, ha!" + +"That wild laughter again. Luke, I implore you, hear me one word--my +last----" + +"I will not bear reproaches." + +"I mean not to reproach you. I come to bless you--to forgive you--to bid +you farewell. Will you not say farewell?" + +"Farewell." + +"Not so--not so. Mercy! my God! compassionate him and me! My heart will +break with agony. Luke, if you would not kill me, recall that word. Let +not the guilt of my death be yours. 'Tis to save you from that remorse +that I die!" + +"Sybil, you have said rightly, I am not myself. I know not what demons +have possession of my soul, that I can behold your agonies without +remorse; that your matchless affection should awaken no return. Yet so +it is. Since the fatal moment when I beheld yon maid, I have loved her." + +"No more. _Now_ I can part with you. Farewell!" + +"Stay, stay! wretch that I am. Stay, Sybil! If we must part--and that it +_must_ be so I feel--let me receive your pardon, if you can bestow it. +Let me clasp you once more within my arms. May you live to happier +days--may you----" + +"Oh, to die thus!" sobbed Sybil, disengaging herself from his embrace. +"Live to happier days, said you? When have _I_ given you reason to +doubt, for an instant, the sincerity of _my_ love, that you should +insult me thus?" + +"Then live with me--live for me." + +"If you can love me still, I will live as your slave, your minion, your +wife; aught you will have me be. You have raised me from wretchedness. +Oh!" continued she in an altered tone, "have I mistaken your meaning? +Did you utter those words in false compassion for my sufferings?--Speak, +it is not yet too late--all may be well. My fate--my life is in your +hands. If you love me yet--if you can forsake Eleanor, speak--if not, be +silent." + +Luke averted his head. + +"Enough!" continued Sybil, in a voice of agony; "I understand. May God +forgive you! Fare you well! We shall meet no more." + +"Do we part for ever?" asked Luke, without daring to regard her. + +"FOR EVER!" answered Sybil. + +Before her lover could reply, she shot from his side, and plunging +amidst the dark and dense assemblage near the door, disappeared from +view. An instant after, she emerged into the open air. She stood within +the roofless hall. It was filled with sunshine--with the fresh breath of +morn. The ivied ruins, the grassy floor, the blue vault of heaven, +seemed to greet her with a benignant smile. All was _riant_ and +rejoicing--all, save her heart. Amid such brightness, her sorrow seemed +harsh and unnatural; as she felt the glad influence of day, she was +scarcely able to refrain from tears. It was terrible to leave this +beautiful world, that blue sky, that sunshine, and all she loved--so +young, so soon. + +Entering a low arch that yawned within the wall, she vanished like a +ghost at the approach of morn. + + + + +_CHAPTER IX_ + +_THE PHILTER_ + + Thou hast practised on her with foul charms-- + Abused her delicate youth with drugs and minerals. + + SHAKSPEARE: _Othello_. + + +To return to Eleanor Mowbray. In a state of mind bordering upon +distraction, she rushed to her mother, and, flinging her arms wildly +round her neck, besought her to protect her. Mrs. Mowbray gazed +anxiously upon the altered countenance of her daughter, but a few +moments relieved her from much of her uneasiness.--The expression of +pain gradually subsided, and the look of vacuity was succeeded by one of +frenzied excitement. A film had, for an instant or two, dimmed her eyes; +they now gleamed with unnatural lustre. She smiled--the smile was +singular; it was not the playful, pleasurable lighting up of the face +that it used to be; but it _was_ a smile, and the mother's heart was +satisfied. + +Mrs. Mowbray knew not to what circumstance she could attribute this +wondrous change. She looked at the priest. He was more apt in divining +the probable cause of the sudden alteration in Eleanor's manner. + +"What if she has swallowed a love-powder?" said he, approaching Mrs. +Mowbray, and speaking in a whisper. "I have heard of such abominable +mixtures; indeed, the holy St. Jerome himself relates an instance of +similar sorcery, in his life of Hilarius; and these people are said to +compound them." + +"It may be so," replied Mrs. Mowbray, in the same tone. "I think that +the peculiar softness in the eye is more than natural." + +"I will at least hazard an experiment, to attest the truth or fallacy of +my supposition," returned the father. "Do you see your destined +bridegroom yonder?" continued he, addressing Eleanor. + +She followed with her eyes in the direction which Father Ambrose +pointed. She beheld Luke. We know not how to describe the sensations +which now possessed her. She thought not of Ranulph; or, if she did, it +was with vague indifference. Wrapped in a kind of mental trance, she +yielded to the pleasurable impulse that directed her unsettled fancies +towards Luke. For some moments she did not take her eyes from him. The +priest and Mrs. Mowbray watched her in silence. + +Nothing passed between the party till Luke joined them. Eleanor +continued gazing at him, and the seeming tenderness of her glance +emboldened Luke to advance towards her. The soft fire that dwelt in +those orbs was, however, cold as the shining wing of the luciola. + +Luke approached her; he took her hand--she withdrew it not. He kissed +it. Still she withdrew it not, but gazed at him with gently-glimmering +eyes. + +"My daughter is yours, Sir Luke Rookwood," exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray. + +"What says the maid herself?" asked Luke. + +Eleanor answered not. Her eyes were still fixed on him. + +"She will not refuse me her hand," said Luke. + +The victim resisted not. + +"To the subterranean shrine," cried Barbara. And she gave the +preconcerted signal to the band. + +The signal was repeated by the gipsy crew. We may here casually note, +that the crew had been by no means uninterested or silent spectators of +passing events, but had, on the contrary, indulged themselves in a +variety of conjectures as to their probable issue. Several bets were +pending as to whether it would be a match or not after all. Zoroaster +took long odds that the match was off--offering a _bean_ to +_half-a-quid_--in other words, a guinea to a half-guinea--that Sybil +would be the bride. His offer was taken at once by Jerry Juniper, and +backed by the knight of Malta. + +"Ha! there's the signal," cried the knight; "I'll trouble you for the +bean." + +"And I," added Jerry Juniper, "for another." + +"See 'em fairly spliced first," replied the Magus; "that's vot I +betted." + +"Vell, vell, a few minutes will settle that. Come, pals, to the autem +ken. Avay. Mind and obey orders." + +"Ay, ay," answered the crew. + +"Here's a torch for the altar of Hymen," said the knight, flashing his +torch in the eyes of the patrico as he passed him. + +"For the halter of Haman, you might say," returned Balthazar, sulkily. +"It's well if some of us don't swing for it." + +"You don't say," rejoined the perplexed Magus, "swing! Egad I fear it's +a ticklish business. But there's no fighting shy, I fear, with Barbara +present; and then there's that infernal autem-bawler; it will be so +cursedly regular. If you had done the job, Balty, it would not have +signified a brass farden. Luckily there will be no vitnesses to snitch +upon us. There will be no one in the vault besides ourselves." + +"There will be a silent and a solemn witness," returned Balthazar, "and +one whom you expect not." + +"Eh! Vot's that you say? a spy?" + +But the patrico was gone. + +"Make way there--make way, pals, for the bride and bridegroom," cried +the knight of Malta, drawing Excalibur, and preparing to lead the way to +the vault. + +The train began to move. Eleanor leaned upon the arm of her mother. +Beside them stalked Barbara, with an aspect of triumph. Luke followed +with the priest. One by one the assemblage quitted the apartment. + +The sexton alone lingered. "The moment is at hand," said he, musingly, +"when all shall be consummated." + +A few steps brought him into the court. The crowd was there still. A +brief delay had taken place. The knight of Malta then entered the mouth +of the vault. He held his torch so as to reveal a broken flight of +steps, conducting, it would seem, to regions of perpetual night. So +thought Eleanor, as she shudderingly gazed into the abyss. She +hesitated; she trembled; she refused. But her mother's entreaties, and +Barbara's threatening looks, induced, in the end, reluctant compliance. +At length the place was empty. Peter was about to follow, when the sound +of a horse's hoofs broke upon his ear. He tarried for an instant, and +the mounted figure of the highwayman burst within the limits of the +court. + +"Ha, ha! old earthworm," cried Dick, "my Nestor of the churchyard, +alone! Where the devil are all the folks gone? Where's Sir Luke and his +new-found cousin, eh?" + +Peter hastily explained. + +"A wedding under ground? famous! the thing of all others I should like +to see. I'll hang Bess to this ivy tod, and grub my way with you +thither, old mole." + +"You must stay here, and keep guard," returned Peter. + +"May I be hanged if I do, when such fun is going on." + +"Hanged, in all probability, you will be," returned Peter; "but I should +not, were I you, desire to anticipate my destiny. Stay here you must, +and shall--that's peremptory. You will be the gainer by it. Sir Luke +will reward you nobly. I will answer for him. You can serve him most +effectually. Ranulph Rookwood and Major Mowbray are expected here." + +"The devil they are. But how, or why----" + +"I have not time to explain. In case of a surprise, discharge a pistol; +they must not enter the vault. Have you a whistle? for you must play a +double part, and we may need your assistance below." + +"Sir Luke may command me. Here's a pipe as shrill as the devil's own +cat-call." + +"If it will summon you to our assistance below, 'tis all I need. May we +rely on you?" + +"When did Dick Turpin desert his friends? Anywhere on this side the Styx +the sound of that whistle will reach me. I'll ride about the court, and +stand sentry." + +"Enough," replied the sexton, as he dived under ground. + +"Take care of your shins," shouted Dick. "That's a cursed ugly turn, but +he's used to the dark. A surprise, eh! I'll just give a look to my +snappers--flints all safe. Now I'm ready for them, come when they like." +And, having made the circuit of the place, he halted near the mouth of +the subterranean chapel, to be within hearing of Peter's whistle, and, +throwing his right leg lazily over his saddle, proceeded coolly to light +a short pipe--the luxury of the cigar being then unknown,--humming the +while snatches of a ballad, the theme of which was his own calling. + + THE SCAMPSMAN + + Quis vere rex? + SENECA. + + There is not a king, should you search the world round, + So blithe as the king of the road to be found; + His pistol's his sceptre, his saddle's his throne, + Whence he levies supplies, or enforces a loan. + _Derry down._ + + To this monarch the highway presents a wide field, + Where each passing subject a tribute must yield; + His palace--the tavern!--receives him at night, + Where sweet lips and sound liquor crown all with delight. + _Derry down._ + + The soldier and sailor, both robbers by trade, + Full soon on the shelf, if disabled, are laid; + The one gets a patch, and the other a peg, + But, while luck lasts, the highwayman shakes a loose leg! + _Derry down._ + + Most fowl rise at dawn, but the owl wakes at e'en, + And a jollier bird can there nowhere be seen; + Like the owl, our snug scampsman his snooze takes by day, + And, when night draws her curtain, scuds after his prey! + _Derry down._ + + As the highwayman's life is the fullest of zest, + So the highwayman's death is the briefest and best; + He dies not as other men die, by _degrees_! + But AT ONCE! without wincing, and quite at his ease! + _Derry down._ + +And thus, for the present, we leave him. O rare Dick Turpin! + + + + +_CHAPTER X_ + +_SAINT CYPRIAN'S CELL_ + + Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch' entrate. + + DANTE. + + +Cyprian de Mulverton, fifth prior of the monastery of Saint Francis, a +prelate of singular sanctity, being afflicted, in his latter days, with +a despondency so deep that neither penance nor fasting could remove it, +vowed never again to behold, with earthly eyes, the blessed light of +heaven, nor to dwell longer with his fellowmen; but, relinquishing his +spiritual dignity, "the world forgetting, by the world forgot," to +immure himself, while living, within the tomb. + +He kept his vow. Out of the living rock that sustained the saintly +structure, beneath the chapel of the monastery, was another chapel +wrought, and thither, after bidding an eternal farewell to the world, +and bestowing his benediction upon his flock, whom he committed to the +care of his successor, the holy man retired. + +Never, save at midnight, and then only during the performance of masses +for his soul's repose, did he ascend from his cell: and as the sole +light allowed within the dismal dungeon of his choice was that of a +sepulchral lamp, as none spoke with him when in his retreat, save in +muttered syllables, what effect must the lustre emanating from a +thousand tapers, the warm and pungent odors of the incense-breathing +shrine, contrasted with the earthy vapors of his prison-house, and the +solemn swell of the Sanctus, have had upon his excited senses? Surely +they must have seemed like a foretaste of the heaven he sought to gain! + +Ascetic to the severest point to which nature's endurance could be +stretched, Cyprian even denied himself repose. He sought not sleep, and +knew it only when it stole on him unawares. His couch was the flinty +rock; and long afterwards, when the zealous resorted to the sainted +prior's cell, and were shown those sharp and jagged stones, they +marvelled how one like unto themselves could rest, or even recline upon +their points without anguish, until it was explained to them that, +doubtless, He who tempereth the wind to the shorn lamb had made that +flinty couch soft to the holy sufferer as a bed of down. His limbs were +clothed in a garb of horsehair of the coarsest fabric; his drink was the +dank drops that oozed from the porous walls of his cell; and his +sustenance, such morsels as were bestowed upon him by the poor--the only +strangers permitted to approach him. No fire was suffered, where +perpetual winter reigned. None were admitted to his nightly vigils; +none witnessed any act of penance; nor were any groans heard to issue +from that dreary cave; but the knotted, blood-stained thong, discovered +near his couch, too plainly betrayed in what manner those long lone +nights were spent. Thus did a year roll on. Traces of his sufferings +were visible in his failing strength. He could scarcely crawl; but he +meekly declined assistance. He appeared not, as had been his wont, at +the midnight mass; the door of his cell was thrown open at that hour; +the light streamed down like a glory upon his reverend head; he heard +the distant reverberations of the deep _Miserere_; and breathed odors as +if wafted from Paradise. + +One morn it chanced that they who sought his cell found him with his +head upon his bosom, kneeling before the image of the virgin patroness +of his shrine. Fearing to disturb his devotions, they stood reverently +looking on; and thus silently did they tarry for an hour; but, as in +that space he had shown no signs of motion, fearing the worst, they +ventured to approach him. He was cold as the marble before which he +knelt. In the act of humblest intercession--it may be, in the hope of +grace--had Cyprian's spirit fled. + +"Blessed are they who die in the Lord," exclaimed his brethren, +regarding his remains with deepest awe. On being touched, the body fell +to the ground. It was little more than a skeleton. + +Under the cloisters of the holy pile were his bones interred, with a +degree of pomp and ostentation that little accorded with the lowliness +and self-abasement of this man of many sorrows. + +This chapel, at the time of which we treat, was pretty much in the same +condition as it existed in the days of its holy inmate. Hewn out of the +entrails of the rock, the roof, the vaults, the floor, were of solid +granite. Three huge cylindrical pillars, carved out of the native rock, +rough as the stems of gnarled oak-trees, lent support to the ceiling. +Support, however, was unneeded; an earthquake would scarce have shaken +down those solid rafters. Only in one corner, where the water welled +through a crevice of the rock, in drops that fell like tears, was decay +manifest. Here the stone, worn by the constant dripping, had, in some +places, given way. In shape, the vault was circular. The integral +between each massive pillar formed a pointed arch. Again, from each +pillar sprang other arches, which, crossed by diagonal, ogive branches, +weaving one into the other, and radiating from the centre, formed those +beautifully intricate combinations upon which the eye of the +architectural enthusiast loves to linger. Within the ring formed by +these triple columns, in which again the pillars had their own web of +arches, was placed an altar of stone, and beside it a crucifix of the +same rude material. Here also stood the sainted image of her who had +filled the prior with holy aspirations, now a shapeless stone. The dim +lamp, that, like a star struggling with the thick gloom of a wintry +cell, had shed its slender radiance over the brow of the Virgin Thecla, +was gone. But around the keystone of the central arches, whence a chain +had once depended, might be traced in ancient characters, half effaced +by time, the inscription: + + STA. THECLA ORA PRO NOBIS. + +One outlet only was there from the chapel--that which led by winding +steps to the monastery; one only recess--the prior's cell. The former +faced the altar; the latter yawned like the mouth of a tomb at its back. +Altogether it was a dreary place. Dumb were its walls as when they +refused to return the murmured orisons of the anchorite. One uniform sad +coloring prevailed throughout. The gray granite was grown hoar with age, +and had a ghostly look; the columns were ponderous, and projected heavy +shadows. Sorrow and superstition had their tale, and a moral gloom +deepened the darkness of the spot. Despair, which had inspired its +construction, seemed to brood therein. Hope shunned its inexorable +recesses. + +Alone, within this dismal sanctuary, with hands outstretched towards the +desecrated image of its tutelar saint, knelt Sybil. All was darkness. +Neither the heavy vapors that surrounded her, nor the shrine before +which she bent, were visible; but, familiar with the dreary spot, she +knew that she had placed herself aright. Her touch had satisfied her +that she bowed before the altar of stone; that her benighted vision was +turned towards the broken image of the saint, though now involved in +gloom the most profound; and with clasped hands and streaming eyes, in +low and mournful tones, she addressed herself in the following hymn to +the tutelar saint of the spot: + + HYMN TO SAINT THECLA + + In my trouble, in my anguish, + In the depths of my despair, + As in grief and pain I languish, + Unto thee I raise my prayer. + Sainted virgin! martyr'd maiden! + Let thy countenance incline + Upon one with woes o'erladen, + Kneeling lowly at thy shrine; + That in agony, in terror, + In her blind perplexity, + Wandering weak in doubt and error, + Calleth feebly upon thee. + Sinful thoughts, sweet saint, oppress me, + Thoughts that will not be dismissed; + Temptations dark possess me, + Which my strength may not resist. + I am full of pain, and weary + Of my life; I fain would die: + Unto me the world is dreary; + To the grave for rest I fly. + For rest!--oh! could I borrow + Thy bright wings, celestial dove! + They should waft me from my sorrow, + Where peace dwells in bowers above. + Upon one with woes o'erladen, + Kneeling lowly at thy shrine; + Sainted virgin! martyr'd maiden! + Let thy countenance incline! + _Mei miserere Virgo, + Requiem aeternam dona!_ + + By thy loveliness, thy purity, + Unpolluted, undefiled, + That in serene security + Upon earth's temptations smiled;-- + By the fetters that constrain'd thee, + By thy flame-attested faith, + By the fervor that sustain'd thee, + By thine angel-ushered death;-- + By thy soul's divine elation, + 'Mid thine agonies assuring + Of thy sanctified translation + To beatitude enduring;-- + By the mystic interfusion + Of thy spirit with the rays, + That in ever bright profusion + Round the Throne Eternal blaze;-- + By thy portion now partaken, + With the pain-perfected just; + Look on one of hope forsaken, + From the gates, of mercy thrust. + Upon one with woes o'erladen, + Kneeling lowly at thy shrine, + Sainted virgin! martyr'd maiden! + Let thy countenance incline! + _Ora pro me mortis hora! + Sancta Virgo, oro te! + Kyrie Eleison!_ + +The sweet, sad voice of the singer died faintly away. The sharpness of +her sorrow was assuaged. Seldom, indeed, is it that fervent +supplication fails to call down solace to the afflicted. Sybil became +more composed. She still, however, trembled at the thoughts of what +remained to be done. + +"They will be here ere my prayer is finished," murmured she--"ere the +end is accomplished for which I came hither alone. Let me, oh! let me +make my peace with my Creator, ere I surrender my being to His hands, +and then let them deal with me as they will." And she bowed her head in +lowly prayer. + +Again raising her hands, and casting her eyes towards the black ceiling, +she implored, in song, the intercession of the saintly man who had +bequeathed his name to the cell. + + HYMN TO SAINT CYPRIAN + + Hear! oh! hear me, sufferer holy, + Who didst make thine habitation + 'Mid these rocks, devoting wholly + Life to one long expiation + Of thy guiltiness, and solely + By severe mortification + Didst deliver thee. Oh! hear me! + In my dying moments cheer me. + By thy penance, self-denial, + Aid me in the hour of trial. + + May, through thee, my prayers prevailing + On the Majesty of Heaven, + O'er the hosts of hell, assailing + My soul, in this dark hour be driven! + So my spirit, when exhaling, + May of sinfulness be shriven, + And His gift unto the Giver + May be rendered pure as ever! + By thy own dark, dread possession, + Aid me with thine intercession! + +Scarcely had she concluded this hymn, when the torch of the knight of +Malta in part dissipated the gloom that hung around the chapel. + + + + +_CHAPTER XI_ + +_THE BRIDAL_ + + _Cari._ I will not die; I must not. I am contracted + To a young gentleman. + + _Executioner._ Here's your wedding-ring. + + _Duchess of Malfy._ + + +Slowly did the train descend; solemnly and in silence, as if the rites +at which they were about to assist had been those of funereal, and not +of nuptial, solemnization. Indeed, to look upon those wild and fierce +faces by the ruddily-flashing torchlight, which lent to each a stern and +savage expression; to see those scowling visages surrounding a bride +from whose pallid cheeks every vestige of color, and almost of +animation, had fled; and a bridegroom, with a countenance yet more +haggard, and demeanor yet more distracted--the beholder must have +imagined that the spectacle was some horrible ceremonial, practised by +demons rather than human beings. The arched vault, the pillars, the +torchlight, the deep shadows, and the wild figures, formed a picture +worthy of Rembrandt or Salvator. + +"Is Sybil within the chapel?" asked Barbara. + +"I am here," returned a voice from the altar. + +"Why do we tarry?" said the gipsy queen. "We are all assembled. To the +altar." + +"To the altar!" shrieked Eleanor. "Oh! no--no----" + +"Remember my threat, and obey," muttered Barbara. "You are in my power +now." + +A convulsive sob was all the answer Eleanor could make. + +"Our number is not complete," said the priest, who had looked in vain +for the sexton. "Peter Bradley is not with us." + +"Ha!" exclaimed Barbara. "Let him be sought for instantly." + +"Their search need not extend beyond this spot," said Peter, stepping +forward. + +The knight of Malta advanced towards the altar. The torchlight reddened +upon the huge stone pillars. It fell upon the shrine, and upon the +ghastly countenance of Sybil, who stood beside it. Suddenly, as the +light approached her, an object, hitherto hidden from view, was +revealed. Sybil uttered a prolonged and fearful shriek; the knight +recoiled likewise in horror; and a simultaneous cry of astonishment +burst from the lips of the foremost of the group. All crowded forwards, +and universal consternation prevailed amongst the assemblage. Each one +gazed at his neighbor, anxious to learn the occasion of this tumult, and +vague fears were communicated to those behind, from the terrified +glances, which were the only answers returned by their comrades in +front. + +"Who has dared to bring that body here?" demanded Barbara, in a tone in +which anger struggled with apprehension, pointing at the same time to +the ghastly corpse of a female, with streaming hair, at the altar's +feet. "Who has dared to do this, I say? Quick! remove it. What do you +stare at? Cravens! is this the first time you have looked upon a corpse, +that you should shrink aghast--that you tremble before it? It is a +clod--ay, less than a clod. Away with it! away, I say." + +"Touch it not," cried Luke, lifting a cloud of black hair from off the +features; "it is my mother's body." + +"My daughter!" exclaimed the sexton. + +"What!" vociferated Barbara, "is that your daughter--is that the first +Lady Rookwood? Are the dead arisen to do honor to these nuptials? Speak! +you can, perchance, explain how she came hither." + +"I know not," returned Peter, glancing fiercely at Barbara; "I may, +anon, demand that question of you. How came this body here?" + +"Ask of Richard Checkley," said Barbara, turning to the priest. "He can, +perchance, inform you. Priest," added she, in a low voice, "this is your +handiwork." + +"Checkley!" screamed Peter. "Is that Richard Checkley? is that----" + +"Peace!" thundered Barbara; "will none remove the body? Once more I ask +you, do you fear the dead?" + +A murmur arose. Balthazar alone ventured to approach the corpse. + +Luke started to his feet as he advanced, his eyes glaring with tiger +fury. + +"Back, old man," cried he, "and dare not, any of you, to lay a +sacrilegious finger on her corse, or I will stretch him that advances as +lowly as lies my mother's head. When or how it came hither matters not. +Here, at the altar, has it been placed, and none shall move it hence. +The dead shall witness my nuptials. Fate has ordained it--_my_ fate! +o'er which the dead preside. Her ring shall link me to my bride. I knew +not, when I snatched it from her death-cold finger, to what end I +preserved it. I learn it now. It is here." And he held forth a ring. + +"'Tis a fatal boon, that twice-used ring," cried Sybil; "such a ring my +mother, on her death-bed, said should be mine. Such a ring she said +should wed me----" + +"Unto whom?" fiercely demanded Luke. + +"UNTO DEATH!" she solemnly rejoined. + +Luke's countenance fell. He turned aside, deeply abashed, unable further +to brook her gaze; while in accents of such wildly touching pathos as +sank into the hearts of each who heard her--hearts, few of them framed +of penetrable stuff--the despairing maiden burst into the following +strain: + + THE TWICE-USED RING + + "Beware thy bridal day!" + On her death-bed sighed my mother; + "Beware, beware, I say, + Death shall wed thee, and no other. + Cold the hand shall grasp thee, + Cold the arms shall clasp thee, + Colder lips thy kiss shall smother! + Beware thy bridal kiss! + + "Thy wedding ring shall be + From a clay-cold finger taken; + From one that, like to thee, + Was by her love forsaken. + For a twice-used ring + Is a fatal thing; + Her griefs who wore it are partaken--, + Beware that fatal ring! + + "The altar and the grave + Many steps are not asunder; + Bright banners o'er thee wave, + Shrouded horror lieth under. + Blithe may sound the bell, + Yet 'twill toll thy knell; + Scathed thy chaplet by the thunder-- + Beware that blighted wreath!" + + Beware my bridal day! + Dying lips my doom have spoken; + Deep tones call me away; + From the grave is sent a token. + Cold, cold fingers bring + That ill-omen'd ring; + Soon will a _second_ heart be broken; + _This_ is my bridal day. + +There was a deep, profound silence as the last melancholy cadence died +away, and many a rugged heart was melted, even to tears. Eleanor, +meanwhile, remained in a state of passive stupefaction, vacantly gazing +at Sybil, upon whom alone her eyes were fixed, and appearing +indistinctly to apprehend the meaning of her song. + +"This is my bridal day," murmured she, in a low tone, when Sybil had +finished. "Said not that sweet voice so? I know 'tis my bridal day. What +a church you have chosen, mother! A tomb--a sepulchre--but 'tis meet for +such nuptials as mine--and what wedding guests! Was that pale woman in +her shroud-like dress invited here by you? Tell me that, mother." + +"My God, her senses are gone!" cried Mrs. Mowbray. "Why did I venture +into this horrible place?" + +"Ask not _why_ now, madam," rejoined the priest. "The hour for +consideration is past. We must act. Let the marriage proceed, at all +hazards; we will then take means to extricate ourselves from this +accursed place." + +"Remove that horrible object," said Mrs. Mowbray; "it fascinates the +vision of my child." + +"Lend me your hand, Richard Checkley," said Peter, sternly regarding the +priest. + +"No, no," replied the priest, shuddering; "I will not, cannot touch it. +Do you alone remove it." + +Peter approached Luke. The latter now offered no further opposition, and +the body was taken away. The eyes of Eleanor followed it into the dark +recesses of the vault; and when she could no longer distinguish the +white flutter of the cereclothes, her laboring bosom seemed torn asunder +with the profound sigh that burst from it, and her head declined upon +her shoulder. + +"Let me see that ring," said the priest, addressing Luke, who still held +the wedding-ring between his fingers. + +"I am not naturally superstitious," said Mrs. Mowbray; "whether my mind +be affected with the horrors of this place, I know not; but I have a +dread of that ring. She shall not use it." + +"Where no other can be found," said the priest, with a significant and +peculiar look at Mrs. Mowbray, "I see no reason why this should be +rejected. I should not have suspected you, madam, of such weakness. +Grant there were evil spell, or charm, attached to it, which, trust me, +there is _not_--as how should there be, to a harmless piece of gold?--my +benediction, and aspersion with holy lymph, will have sufficient power +to exorcise and expel it. To remove your fears it shall be done at +once." + +A cup containing water was brought, together with a plate of salt--which +condiment the devil is said to abhor, and which is held to be a symbol +of immortality and of eternity; in that, being itself incorruptible, it +preserves all else from corruption,--and, with the customary Romish +formula of prayer and exorcism, the priest thrice mingled the crystal +particles with the pure fluid; after which, taking the ring in his hand +with much solemnity, he sprinkled it with a few drops of the water which +he had blessed; made the sign of the cross upon the golden circlet; +uttered another and more potent exorcism to eradicate and expel every +device of Satan, and delivered it back to Luke. + +"She may wear it now in safety," said the sexton, with strong contempt. +"Were the snake himself coiled round that consecrated bauble, the +prayers of the devout Father Checkley would unclasp his lithest folds. +But wherefore do we tarry now? Naught lies between us and the altar. The +path is clear. The bridegroom grows impatient." + +"And the bride?" asked Barbara. + +"Is ready," replied the priest. "Madam, delay not longer. Daughter, your +hand." + +Eleanor gave her hand. It was clammy and cold. Supported by her mother, +she moved slowly towards the altar, which was but a few steps from where +they stood. She offered no resistance, but did not raise her head. Luke +was by her side. Then for the first time did the enormity of the cruel, +dishonorable act he was about to commit, strike him with its full +force. He saw it in its darkest colors. It was one of those terrible +moments when the headlong wheel of passion stands suddenly still. + +"There is yet time," groaned he. "Oh! let me not damn myself +perpetually! Let me save her; save Sybil; save myself." + +They were at the altar--that wild wedding train. High over head the +torch was raised. The red light flashed on bridegroom and on bride, +giving to the pale features of each an almost livid look; it fell upon +the gaunt aspect of the sexton, and lit up the smile of triumphant +malice that played upon his face; it fell upon the fantastical +habiliments of Barbara, and upon the haughty but perturbed physiognomy +of Mrs. Mowbray; it fell upon the salient points of the Gothic arches; +upon one molded pillar; upon the marble image of the virgin Thecla; and +on the scarcely less marble countenance of Sybil who stood behind the +altar, silent, statue-like, immovable. The effect of light and shade on +other parts of the scene, upon the wild drapery, and harsh lineaments of +many of the group, was also eminently striking. + +Just as the priest was about to commence the marriage service, a yelling +chorus, which the gipsies were accustomed to sing at the celebration of +the nuptials of one of their own tribe, burst forth. Nothing could be +more horribly discordant than their song. + + WEDDING CHORUS OF GIPSIES + + Scrape the catgut! pass the liquor! + Let your quick feet move the quicker. + Ta-ra-la! + + Dance and sing in jolly chorus, + Bride and bridegroom are before us, + And the patrico stands o'er us. + Ta-ra-la! + + To unite their hands he's ready; + For a moment, pals, be steady; + Cease your quaffing, + Dancing, laughing; + Leave off riot, + And be quiet, + While 'tis doing. + 'Tis begun, + All is over! + Two are ONE! + The patrico has link'd 'em; + Daddy Hymen's torch has blink'd 'em. + Amen! + To 't again! + Now for quaffing, + Now for laughing, + Stocking-throwing, + Liquor flowing; + For our bridals are no bridles, and our altars never alter; + From the flagon never flinch we, in the jig we never falter. + No! that's not _our_ way, for _we_ + Are staunch lads of Romany. + For our wedding, then, hurrah! + Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! + +This uncouth chorus ended, the marriage proceeded. Sybil had +disappeared. Had she fled? No! she was by the bride. Eleanor +mechanically took her place. A faint voice syllabled the responses. You +could scarcely have seen Miss Mowbray's lips move. But the answers were +given, and the priest was satisfied. + +He took the ring, and sprinkled it once again with the holy water, in +the form of the cross. He pronounced the prayer: "_Benedic, Domine, +annulum hunc, quem nos in tuo nomine benedicimus, ut quae eum gestaverit, +fidelitatem integram suo sponso tenens, in pace et voluntate tua +permaneat atque in mutua charitate semper vivat._" + +He was about to return the ring to Luke, when the torch, held by the +knight of Malta, was dashed to the ground by some unseen hand, and +instantly extinguished. The wild pageant vanished as suddenly as the +figures cast by a magic-lantern upon a wall disappear when the glass is +removed. A wild hubbub succeeded. Hoarsely above the clamor arose the +voice of Barbara. + +"To the door, quickly!--to the door! Let no one pass, I will find out +the author of this mishap anon. Away!" + +She was obeyed. Several of the crew stationed themselves at the door. + +"Proceed now with the ceremony," continued Barbara. "By darkness, or by +light, the match shall be completed." + +The ring was then placed upon the finger of the bride; and as Luke +touched it, he shuddered. It was cold as that of the corpse which he had +clasped but now. The prayer was said, the blessing given, the marriage +was complete. + +Suddenly there issued from the darkness deep dirge-like tones, and a +voice solemnly chanted a strain, which all knew to be the death-song of +their race, hymned by wailing women over an expiring sister. The music +seemed to float in the air. + + THE SOUL-BELL + + Fast the sand of life is falling, + Fast her latest sigh exhaling, + Fast, fast, is she dying. + + With death's chills her limbs are shivering, + With death's gasp the lips are quivering, + Fast her soul away is flying. + + O'er the mountain-top it fleeteth, + And the skyey wonders greeteth, + Singing loud as stars it meeteth + On its way. + + Hark! the sullen Soul-bell tolling, + Hollowly in echoes rolling, + Seems to say-- + + "She will ope her eyes--oh, never! + Quenched their dark light--gone for ever! + She is dead." + +The marriage group yet lingered near the altar, awaiting, it would seem, +permission from the gipsy queen to quit the cell. Luke stirred not. +Clasped in his own, the cold hand of his bride detained him; and when he +would have moved, her tightened grasp prevented his departure. + +Mrs. Mowbray's patience was exhausted by the delay. She was not +altogether free from apprehension. "Why do we linger here?" she +whispered to the priest. "Do you, father, lead the way." + +"The crowd is dense," replied Checkley. "They resist my effort." + +"Are we prisoners here?" asked Mrs. Mowbray, in alarm. + +"Let me make the attempt," cried Luke, with fiery impatience. "I will +force a passage out." + +"Quit not your bride," whispered Peter, "as you value her safety. Heed +not aught else. She alone is in danger. Suffer her not to be withdrawn +from your hand, if you would not lose her. Remain here. I will bring the +matter to a speedy issue." + +"Enough," replied Luke; "I stir not hence." And he drew his bride closer +towards him. He stooped to imprint a kiss upon her lips. A cold shudder +ran through her frame as he touched them, but she resisted not his +embrace. + +Peter's attempt to effect an egress was as unsuccessful as that of the +priest. Presenting Excalibur at his bosom, the knight of Malta +challenged him to stand. + +"You cannot pass," exclaimed the knight; "our orders are peremptory." + +"What am I to understand by this?" said Peter, angrily. "Why are we +detained?" + +"You will learn all anon," returned Barbara. "In the meantime you are my +prisoners--or, if you like not the phrase, my wedding guests." + +"The wedding is complete," returned the sexton; "the bride and +bridegroom are impatient to depart, and we, the guests--albeit some of +us may be no foes to darkness--desire not to hold our nuptial revels +here." + +"Sybil's wedding has not taken place," said Barbara; "you must tarry for +that." + +"Ha! now it comes," thought Peter. "And who, may I ask," said he, aloud, +"amongst this goodly company, is to be her bridegroom?" + +"The best amongst them," returned Barbara--"Sir Luke Rookwood." + +"He has a bride already," replied Peter. + +"She may be _removed_," said Barbara, with bitter and peculiar emphasis. +"Dost understand my meaning now?" + +"I will not understand it," said Peter. "You cannot mean to destroy her +who now stands at the altar?" + +"She who now stands at the altar must make way for a successor. She who +grasps the bridegroom's hand shall die. I swear it by the oath of my +tribe." + +"And think you, you will be allowed to execute your murderous intention +with impunity?" shrieked Mrs. Mowbray, in an agony of terror. "Think you +that I will stand by and see my child slaughtered before my face; that +my friends will suffer it? Think you that even your own tribe will dare +to execute your horrible purpose? They will not. They will side with us. +Even now they murmur. What can you hope to gain by an act so wild and +dreadful? What object can you have?" + +"The same as your own," reiterated Barbara--"the advancement of my +child. Sybil is as dear to me as Eleanor is to you. She is my child's +child, the daughter of my best beloved daughter. I have sworn to marry +her to Sir Luke Rookwood. The means are in my power. I will keep my vow; +I will wed her to him. You did not hesitate to tear your daughter from +the man she loved, to give her to the man she hated; and for what? For +gold--for power--for rank. I have the same motive. I love my child, and +she loves Sir Luke--has loved him long and truly; therefore shall she +have him. What to me is _your_ child, or _your_ feelings, except they +are subservient to my wishes? She stands in my way. I remove her." + +"Who placed her in your path?" asked the sexton. "Did you not lend a +helping hand to create that obstacle yourself?" + +"I did," replied Barbara. "Would you know wherefore? I will tell you. I +had a double motive for it. There is a curse upon the house of Rookwood, +that kills the first fair bride each generation leads to the altar. Have +you never heard of it?" + +"I have! And did that idle legend sway you?" + +"And do you call it idle? _You!_ Well--I had another motive--a +prophecy." + +"By yourself uttered," replied Peter. + +"Even so," replied Barbara. "The prophecy is fulfilled. The stray rook +is found. The rook hath with rook mated. Luke hath wedded Eleanor. He +will hold possession of his lands. The prophecy is fulfilled." + +"But _how_?" asked Peter; "will your art tell you how and why he shall +now hold possession? Can you tell me that?" + +"My art goes not so far. I have predicted the event. It has come to +pass. I am satisfied. He has wedded her. Be it mine to free him from +that yoke." And Barbara laughed exultingly. + +The sexton approached the old crone, and laid his hand with violence +upon her shoulder. + +"Hear _me_," cried he, "and I will tell you that which your juggling art +refuses to reveal. Eleanor Mowbray is heir to the lands of Rookwood! The +estates are _hers_! They were bequeathed to her by her grandsire, Sir +Reginald." + +"She was unborn when he died," cried Mrs. Mowbray. + +"True," replied Peter; "but the lands were left to your issue _female_, +should such issue be born." + +"And did Sir Piers, my brother, know of this? did he see this will," +asked Mrs. Mowbray, with trembling impatience. + +"He did; and withheld the knowledge of it from you and yours." + +"Ah! why knew I not this before? Why did you not tell me ere that was +done which cannot be undone? I have sacrificed my child." + +"Because it did not chime with my purposes to tell you," replied Peter, +coldly. + +"It is false--it is false," cried Mrs. Mowbray, her anger and vexation +getting the better of her fears. "I will not believe it. Who are you, +that pretend to know the secrets of our house?" + +"One of that house," replied the sexton. + +"Your name?" + +"Would you know my name?" answered Peter, sternly. "The time is come +when I will no longer conceal it. I am Alan Rookwood." + +"My father's brother!" exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Ay, Alan Rookwood. The sworn enemy of your father--of you--of all of +ye: your fate--your destiny--your curse. I am that Alan Rookwood whose +name you breathed in the vault. I am he, the avenger--the avenged. I saw +your father die. I heard his groans--_his groans!_--ha, ha! I saw his +sons die: one fell in battle--I was with him there. The other expired in +his bed. I was with Sir Piers when he breathed his last, and listened to +his death agonies. 'Twas I who counselled him to keep the lands from you +and from your child, and he withheld them. One only amongst the race, +whose name I have cast off, have I loved; and him--because," added he, +with something like emotion--"because he was my daughter's child--Luke +Rookwood. And even he shall minister to my vengeance. He will be your +curse--your daughter's curse--for he loves her not. Yet he is her +husband, and hath her land;--ha, ha!" And he laughed till he became +convulsed with the paroxysm of fiendish exultation. + +"Mine ears are stunned," cried Mrs. Mowbray. + +"The bride is mine; relinquish her to me," said Barbara. "Advance and +seize her, my children." + +Alan Rookwood--for so we shall henceforth denominate the +sexton--suddenly grew calm: he raised the whistle to his lips, and blew +a call so loud and shrill, that those who were advancing hung back +irresolute. + +There was a rush at the door of the vault. The sentinels were struck +down; and with pistols in each hand, and followed by two assistants, +Dick Turpin sprang into the thick of the crew. + +"Here we are," cried he, "ready for action. Where is Sir Luke Rookwood? +where my churchyard pal, Peter?" + +"Here," cried the sexton and Luke simultaneously. + +"Then stand aside," cried Dick, pushing in the direction of the sounds, +and bearing down all opposition. "Have a care there--these triggers are +ticklish. Friend or foe, he who touches me shall have a bullet in his +gizzard. Here I am, pal Peter; and here are my two chums, Rust and +Wilder. Cut the whid." + +"Have we license to pass scathless now?" asked the sexton; "or shall we +make good our way?" + +"You shall not pass," cried Barbara, furiously. "Think you to rob me of +my prey? What, cowards! do you hesitate? Ha!" + +"Kindle the torches," cried several voices. "We fight not in the dark." + +A pistol was flashed. The torch again blazed. Its light fell upon a +tumultuous group. + +"Seize the bride," cried Barbara. + +"Hold!" exclaimed a voice from the altar. The voice was that of Sybil. + +Her hand was clasped in that of Luke. Eleanor had fainted in the arms of +the gipsy girl Handassah. + +"Are you my bride?" ejaculated Luke, in dismay. + +"Behold the ring upon my finger! Your own hand placed it there." + +"Betrayed!" screamed Alan, in a voice of anguish. "My schemes +annihilated--myself undone--my enemies triumphant--lost! lost! All is +destroyed--all!" + +"Joy! joy!" exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray: "my child is saved." + +"And _mine_ destroyed," groaned Barbara. "I have sworn by the cross to +slay the bride--and Sybil is that bride." + + + + +_CHAPTER XII_ + +_ALAN ROOKWOOD_ + + The wolf shall find her grave, and scrape it up; + Not to devour the corse, but to discover + The horrid murther. + + WEBSTER. + + +"Bravo! capital!" cried Turpin, laughing loud and long as an Olympian +deity; "has this simple wench outwitted you all; turned the tables upon +the whole gang of plotters, eh? Excellent! ha, ha, ha! The next time you +wed, Sir Luke, let me advise you not to choose a wife in the dark. A man +should have all his senses about him on these occasions. Make love when +the liquor's in; marry when it's out, and, above all, with your eyes +open. This beats cock-fighting--ha, ha, ha!--you must excuse me; but, +upon my soul, I can't help it." And his laughter seemed +inextinguishable. + +"Take your men without," whispered Alan Rookwood; "keep watch as before, +and let the discharge of a pistol bespeak the approach of danger as +agreed upon; much yet remains to be done here." + +"How so?" asked Dick; "it seems to me the job's entirely settled--if not +to _your_ satisfaction. I'm always ready to oblige my friend, Sir Luke; +but curse me if I'd lend my help to any underhand work. Steer clear of +foul play, or Dick Turpin holds no hand with you. As to that poor wench, +if you mean her any harm, curse me if I will----" + +"No harm is intended her," replied Alan. "I applaud your magnanimity," +added he, sarcastically; "such sentiments are, it must be owned, in +excellent keeping with your conduct." + +"In keeping or not," replied Turpin, gravely, "cold-blooded murder is +altogether out of my line, and I wash my hands of it. A shot or two in +self defence is another matter; and when----" + +"A truce to this," interrupted Alan; "the girl is safe. Will you mount +guard again?" + +"If that be the case, certainly," replied Dick. "I shall be glad to get +back to Bess. I couldn't bring her with me into this black hole. A +couple of shots will tell you 'tis Ranulph Rookwood. But mind, no harm +to the gipsy girl--to Lady Rookwood, I should say. She's a jewel, take +my word for it, which Sir Luke must be mad to throw away." And calling +his companions, he departed. + +Alan Rookwood bent his steps towards the gipsy queen. Dark thoughts +gathered quickly o'er his brow. He smiled as he drew nigh to Barbara--a +smile it was + + That wrinkled up his skin even to the hair. + +Barbara looked at him at first with distrust; but as he developed his +secret purposes, that smile became reflected upon her own features. +Their conference took place apart. We willingly leave them to return to +the altar. + +Mrs. Mowbray and the priest were still there. Both were occupied in +ineffectual endeavors to restore Eleanor to consciousness. She recovered +from her swoon; but it was evident her senses still wandered; and vainly +did Mrs. Mowbray lavish her tenderest caresses upon her child. Eleanor +returned them not. + +Luke, meanwhile, had given vent to the wildest fury. He shook away +Sybil's grasp; he dashed her from him; he regarded her with withering +glances; he loaded her with reproaches. She bore his violence with +meekest submission; she looked imploringly--but she replied not to his +taunts. Again she clung to the hem of his garment when cast aside. Luke +appeared unmoved; what passed within we pause not to examine. He grew +calmer; his calmness was more terrible to Sybil than his previous wrath +had been. + +"You are my wife," said he; "what then? By fraud, by stratagem, you have +obtained that title, and, perforce, must keep it. But the title _only_ +shall you retain. No rights of wife shall ever be yours. It will be in +your power to call yourself Lady Rookwood--you will be so in name--in +nothing else." + +"I shall not bear it long," murmured Sybil. + +Luke laughed scornfully, "So you said before," replied he; "and yet I +see not why you are likely to abandon it. The event will show. Thus far +you have deceived me, and I place no further faith in your assertions. +My hand was yours; you refused it. When I would give it to another, you +grasp it clandestinely. Am I to believe you now? The wind will +change--the vane veer with it." + +"It will not veer from you," she meekly answered. + +"Why did you step between me and my bride?" + +"To save her life; to lay down mine for hers." + +"An idle subterfuge. You know well that you run no risk of being called +upon to do so. Your life is in no danger. The sacrifice was unnecessary. +I could have dispensed with _your_ assistance; my own arm would have +sufficed to protect Eleanor." + +"Your single arm would not have prevailed against numbers: they would +have killed you likewise." + +"Tush!" said Luke, fiercely. "Not only have you snatched from me my +bride, you have robbed me of my fair estates, of all, save of my barren +title, and that, even _that_, you have tarnished." + +"True, true," sighed Sybil. "I knew not that the lands were hers, else +had I never done it." + +"False, false," cried Luke; "false as the rest. _They_ will be +Ranulph's. _She_ will be Ranulph's. I shall still be an outcast, while +Ranulph will riot in my halls--will press her to his bosom. Cling not to +me. Hence! or I will spurn you from me. I am undone, undone by you, +accursed one." + +"Oh, curse me not! your words cut deep enough." + +"Would they could kill you," cried Luke, with savage bitterness. "You +have placed a bar between me and my prospects, which nothing can now +remove--nothing but--ha!" and his countenance assumed a deadly hue and +fearful expression. "By Heaven, you almost rouse the fell spirit which +it is said dwells within the breast of my devoted race. I feel as if I +could stab thee." + +"No, no!" shrieked Sybil; "for mercy's sake, for your own sake, do not +stab me. It is not too late. I will repair my wrong!" + +"Ever deceiving! you would again delude me. You cannot repair it. One +way alone remains, and that----" + +"I will pursue," responded Sybil, sadly, but firmly. + +"Never!" cried Luke; "you shall not. Ha!" exclaimed he, as he found his +arms suddenly pinioned behind him. "What new treachery is this? By whose +orders am I thus fettered?" + +"By mine," said Alan Rookwood, stepping forward. + +"By yours?" echoed Luke. "And wherefore? Release me." + +"Be patient," replied Alan. "You will hear all anon. In the meantime you +must be content to remain my prisoner. Quit not your hold," added he, +addressing the gipsies, who kept charge of Luke. + +"Their lives shall answer for their obedience," said Barbara. + +Upon a further signal from Alan, Eleanor was torn from her mother's +arms, and a bandage passed so suddenly over Mrs. Mowbray's face, that, +before she could raise a cry of alarm, all possibility of utterance was +effectually prevented. The priest alone was left at liberty. + +Barbara snatched the hand of Eleanor. She dragged her to Sybil. + +"You are Lady Rookwood," whispered she; "but she has your domains. I +give her to you." + +"She is the _only bar_ between thy husband and his rights," whispered +Alan Rookwood, in a tone of horrible irony; "_it is not too late to +repair your wrong_." + +"Away, tempter!" cried Sybil, horror-stricken. "I know you well. Yet," +continued she, in an altered tone, "I will risk all for him. I have done +him wrong. One mode of atonement remains; and, horrible though it be, I +will embrace it. Let me not pause. Give her to me." And she seized upon +the unresisting hand of Eleanor. + +"Do you need my aid?" asked Barbara. + +"No," replied Sybil; "let none approach us. A clapping of hands will let +you know when all is over." And she dragged her passive victim deeper +into the vault. + +"Sybil, Sybil!" cried Luke, struggling with frantic violence to liberate +himself; "hurt her not. I was rash. I was mad. I am calmer now. She +hears me not--she will not turn. God of heaven! she will murder her. It +will be done while I speak. I am the cause of all. Release me, villains! +Would that I had died ere I had seen this day." + +At a signal from the sexton, Luke also was blindfolded. He ceased to +struggle. But his laboring breast told of the strife within. + +"Miscreants!" exclaimed the priest, who had hitherto witnessed the +proceedings in horror. "Why do not these rocks fall in, and crush you +and your iniquities? Save her! oh, save her! Have you no pity for the +innocent?" + +"Such pity have we," replied Alan Rookwood, "as you showed my daughter. +She was as innocent as Eleanor Mowbray, and yet you did not pity _her_." + +"Heaven is my witness," exclaimed the priest, "that I never injured +her." + +"Take not Heaven's name in vain," cried Alan. "Who stood by while it was +doing? Whose firmer hand lent aid to the murderer's trembling efforts? +Whose pressure stifled her thrilling screams, and choked her cries for +mercy? Yours--yours; and now you prate to me of pity--you, the slayer of +the sleeping and the innocent!" + +"'Tis false!" exclaimed the priest, in extremity of terror. + +"False!" echoed Alan. "I had Sir Piers's own confession. He told me all. +You had designs upon Sir Piers, which his wife opposed; you hated her; +you were in the confidence of both--how did you keep that confidence? He +told me _how_, by awakening a spirit of jealousy and pride, that +o'ermastered all his better feelings. False! He told me of your hellish +machinations; your Jesuitical plots; your schemes. He was too weak, too +feeble an instrument to serve you. You left him, but not before _she_ +had left him. False! ha, I have that shall instantly convict you. The +corpse is here, within this cell. Who brought it hither?" + +The priest was silent: he seemed confounded by Alan's violence. + +"I will answer that question," said Barbara. "It was brought hither by +that false priest. His agent, Balthazar, has betrayed him. It was +brought hither to prevent the discovery of Sir Luke Rookwood's +legitimacy. He meant to make his own terms about it. It has come hither +to proclaim his guilt--to be a fearful witness against him." Then, +turning to Checkley, she added, "You have called Heaven to witness your +innocence: you shall attest it by oath upon that body; and should aught +indicate your guilt, I will hang you as I would a dog, and clear off one +long score with justice. Do you shrink from this?" + +"No," replied the priest, in a voice hollow and broken. "Bring me to the +body." + +"Seize each an arm," said Barbara, addressing Zoroaster and the knight +of Malta, "and lead him to the corse." + +"I will administer the oath," said Alan Rookwood, sternly. + +"No, not you," stammered the priest. + +"And wherefore not?" asked Alan. "If you are innocent, you need fear +nothing from her." + +"I fear nothing from the _dead_," replied Checkley; "lead on." + +We will now return to Sybil. She was alone with her victim. They were +near the mouth of the cell which had been Prior Cyprian's flinty +dormitory, and were almost involved in darkness. A broken stream of +light glanced through the pillars. Eleanor had not spoken. She suffered +herself to be dragged thither without resistance, scarcely conscious, it +would seem, of her danger. Sybil gazed upon her for some minutes with +sorrow and surprise. "She comprehends not her perilous situation," +murmured Sybil. "She knows not that she stands upon the brink of the +grave. Oh! would that she could pray. Shall I, her murderess, pray for +her? My prayers would not be heard. And yet, to kill her unshriven will +be a twofold crime. Let me not look on her. My hand trembles. I can +scarce grasp the dagger. Let me think on all he has said. I have wronged +him. I am his bane, his curse! I have robbed him of all: there is but +one remedy--'tis _this_!--Oh, God! she recovers. I cannot do it now." + +It was a fearful moment for Eleanor's revival, when the bright steel +flashed before her eyes. Terror at once restored her. She cast herself +at Sybil's feet. + +"Spare, spare me!" cried she. "Oh! what a dream I have had. And to waken +thus, with the dagger's point at my breast. You will not kill me--you, +gentle maid, who promised to preserve me. Ah, no, I am sure you will +not." + +"Appeal no more to me," said Sybil, fiercely. "Make your peace with +Heaven. Your minutes are numbered." + +"I cannot pray," said Eleanor, "while you are near me." + +"Will you pray if I retire and leave you?" + +"No, no. I dare not--cannot," shrieked Eleanor, in extremity of terror. +"Oh! do not leave me, or let me go." + +"If you stir," said Sybil, "I stab you to the heart." + +"I will not stir. I will kneel here forever. Stab me as I kneel--as I +pray to you. You cannot kill me while I cling to you thus--while I kiss +your hands--while I bedew them with my tears. Those tears will not sully +them like my blood." + +"Maiden," said Sybil, endeavoring to withdraw her hand, "let go your +hold--your sand is run." + +"Mercy!" + +"It is in vain. Close your eyes." + +"No, I will fix them on you thus--you cannot strike then. I will cling +to you--embrace you. Your nature is not cruel--your soul is full of +pity. It melts--those tears--you will be merciful. You cannot +deliberately kill me." + +"I cannot--I cannot!" said Sybil, with a passionate outburst of grief. +"Take your life on one condition." + +"Name it." + +"That you wed Sir Luke Rookwood." + +"Ah!" exclaimed Eleanor, "all rushes back upon me at that name; the +whole of that fearful scene passes in review before me." + +"Do you reject my proposal?" + +"I dare not." + +"I must have your oath. Swear by every hope of eternity that you will +wed none other than him." + +"By every hope, I swear it." + +"Handassah, you will bear this maiden's oath in mind, and witness its +fulfilment." + +"I will," replied the gipsy girl, stepping forward from a recess, in +which she had hitherto remained unnoticed. + +"Enough. I am satisfied. Tarry with me. Stir not--scream not, whatever +you may see or hear. Your life depends upon your firmness. When I am no +more----" + +"No more?" echoed Eleanor, in horror. + +"Be calm," said Sybil. "When I am dead, clap your hands together. They +will come to seek you--they will find me in your stead. Then rush to +him--to Sir Luke Rookwood. He will protect you. Say to him hereafter +that I died for the wrong I did him--that I died, and blessed him." + +"Can you not live, and save me?" sobbed Eleanor. + +"Ask it not. While I live, your life is in danger. When I am gone, none +will seek to harm you. Fare you well! Remember your oath, and you, too, +remember it, Handassah. Remember also--ha! that groan!" + +All started, as a deep groan knelled in their ears. + +"Whence comes that sound?" cried Sybil. "Hist!--a voice?" + +"It is that of the priest," cried Eleanor. "Hark! he groans. They have +murdered him! Kind Heaven, receive his soul!" + +"Pray for me," cried Sybil: "pray fervently; avert your face; down on +your knees--down--down! Farewell, Handassah!" And breaking from them, +she rushed into the darkest recesses of the vault. + +We must now quit this painful scene for another scarcely less painful, +and return to the unfortunate priest. + +Checkley had been brought before the body of Susan Rookwood. Even in the +gloom, the shimmer of the white cereclothes, and the pallid features of +the corpse, were ghastly enough. The torchlight made them terrible. + +"Kneel!" said Alan Rookwood. The priest complied. Alan knelt beside him. + +"Do you know these features?" demanded he. "Regard them well. Fix your +eyes full upon them. Do you know them?" + +"I do." + +"Place your hand upon her breast. Does not the flesh creep and shrink +beneath your touch? Now raise your hand--make the cross of your faith +upon her bosom. By that faith you swear you are innocent." + +"I do," returned the priest; "are you now satisfied?" + +"No," replied Alan. "Let the torch be removed. Your innocence must be +more deeply attested," continued he, as the light was withdrawn. "This +proof will not fail. Entwine your fingers round her throat." + +"Have I not done enough?" + +"Your hesitation proves your guilt," said Alan. + +"That proof is wanting, then?" returned the priest; "my hand is upon her +throat--what more?" + +"As you hope for mercy in your hour of need, swear that you never +conspired against her life, or refused her mercy." + +"I swear it." + +"May the dead convict you of perjury if you have forsworn yourself," +said Alan; "you are free. Take away your hand!" + +"Ha! what is this?" exclaimed the priest. "You have put some jugglery +upon me. I cannot withdraw my hand. It sticks to her throat, as though +'twere glued by blood. Tear me away. I have not force enough to liberate +myself. Why do you grin at me? The corpse grins likewise. It is +jugglery. I am innocent. You would take away my life. Tear me away, I +say: the veins rise; they blacken; they are filling with new blood. I +feel them swell; they coil like living things around my fingers. She is +alive." + +"And you are innocent?" + +"I am--I am. Let not my ravings convict me. For Jesu's sake, release +me." + +"Blaspheme not, but arise. I hold you not." + +"You do," groaned the priest. "Your grasp tightens round my throat; your +hard and skinny fingers are there--I strangle--help!" + +"Your own fears strangle you. My hand is at my side," returned Alan +calmly. + +"Villain, you lie. Your grasp is like a vice. The strength of a thousand +devils is in your hand. Will none lend help? I never pressed so hard. +Your daughter never suffered this torture--never--never. I +choke--choke--oh!" And the priest rolled heavily backwards. + +There was a deep groan; a convulsive rattle in the throat; and all was +still. + +"He is dead--strangled," cried several voices, holding down the torch. +The face of the priest was blackened and contorted; his eyeballs +protruded from their sockets; his tongue was nearly bitten through in +the desperate efforts he had made to release himself from Alan's gripe; +his hair was erect with horror. It was a ghastly sight. + +A murmur arose amongst the gipsies. Barbara deemed it prudent to appease +them. + +"He was guilty," cried she. "He was the murderer of Susan Rookwood." + +"And I, _her father_, have avenged her," said Alan, sternly. + +The dreadful silence that followed this speech was broken by the report +of a pistol. The sound, though startling, was felt almost as a relief. + +"We are beset," cried Alan. "Some of you fly to reconnoitre." + +"To your posts," cried Barbara. + +Several of the crew flocked to the entrance. + +"Unbind the prisoners," shouted Alan. + +Mrs. Mowbray and Luke were accordingly set free. + +Two almost simultaneous reports of a pistol were now heard. + +"'Tis Ranulph Rookwood," said Alan; "that was the preconcerted signal." + +"Ranulph Rookwood," echoed Eleanor, who caught the exclamation: "he +comes to save me." + +"Remember your oath," gasped a dying voice. "He is no longer yours." + +"Alas! alas!" sobbed Eleanor, tremblingly. + +A moment afterwards a faint clapping of hands reached the ears of +Barbara. + +"All is over," muttered she. + +"Ha!" exclaimed Alan Rookwood, with a frightful look. "Is it done?" + +Barbara motioned him towards the further end of the vault. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIII_ + +_MR. COATES_ + + _Grimm._ Look, captain, here comes one of the bloodhounds of justice. + + _Schw._ Down with him. Don't let him utter a word. + + _Moor._ Silence, I will hear him. + + SCHILLER: _The Robbers_. + + +Gladly do we now exchange the dank atmosphere of Saint Cyprian's cell, +and the horrors which have detained us there so long, for balmy air, +genial sunshine, and the boon companionship of Dick Turpin. Upon +regaining the verdant ruins of the ancient priory, all appeared pretty +much as our highwayman had left it. Dick wended towards his mare. Black +Bess uttered an affectionate whinnying sound as he approached her, and +yielded her sleek neck to his caresses. No Bedouin Arab ever loved his +horse more tenderly than Turpin. + +"'Twill be a hard day when thou and I part!" murmured he, affectionately +patting her soft and silky cheeks. Bess thrust her nose into his hand, +biting him playfully, as much as to say, "That day will never arrive." +Turpin, at least, understood the appeal in that sense; he was skilled in +the language of the Houyhnhnms. "I would rather lose my right hand than +_that_ should happen," sighed he; "but there's no saying: the best of +friends must part; and thou and I may be one day separated: thy +destination is the knacker--mine, perhaps, the gibbet.--We are neither +of us cut out for old age, that's certain. Curse me if I can tell how it +is; since I've been in that vault, I've got some queer crotchet into my +head. I can't help likening thee to that poor gipsy wench, Sybil; but +may I be scragged if I'd use thee as her lover has used her. Ha!" +exclaimed he, drawing a pistol with a suddenness that made his +companions, Rust and Wilder, start, "we are watched. See you not how yon +shadow falls from behind the wall?" + +"I do," replied Rust. + +"The varmint shall be speedily unearthed," said Wilder, rushing to the +spot. + +In another instant the shadow manifested itself in a substantial little +personage, booted, spurred, and mud-bespattered. He was brought before +our highwayman, who had, meanwhile, vaulted into his saddle. + +"Mr. Coates!" cried Dick, bursting into a loud laugh at the ridiculous +figure presented to his view, "or the mud deceives me." + +"It does not deceive you, Captain Turpin," replied the attorney; "you +do, indeed, behold that twice unfortunate person." + +"What brings you here?" asked Dick. "Ah! I see, you are come to pay me +my wager." + +"I thought you gave me a _discharge_ for that," rejoined Coates, unable, +even in his distress, to resist the too-tempting quibble. + +"True, but it was _in blank_," replied Turpin readily; "and that don't +hold good in law, you know. You have thrown away a second chance. Play +or pay, all the world over. I shan't _let you off_ so easily this time, +depend upon it. Come, post the pony, or take your measure on that sod. +No more replications or rejoinders, sir, down with the dust. Fake his +clies, pals. Let us see what he has about him." + +"In the twinkling of a bed-post," replied Rust. "We'll turn him inside +out. What's here?" cried he, searching the attorney's pockets. "A brace +of barkers," handing a pair of pistols to Turpin, "a haddock, stuffed +with nothing, I'm thinking; one quid, two coach-wheels, half a bull, +three hogs, and a kick; a d--d dicky concern, captain." + +"Three hogs and a kick," muttered Coates; "the knave says true enough." + +"Is there nothing else?" demanded Dick. + +"Only an old snuffy fogle and a pewter sneezer." + +"No reader?[90] Try his hoxter."[91] + +"Here's a pit-man,[92] captain." + +"Give it me. Ah! this will do," cried Dick, examining the contents of +the pocket-book. "This is a glorious windfall indeed; a bill of exchange +for 500_l._, payable _on demand_, eh, Mr. Coates? Quick! indorse it, +sir. Here's pen and ink. Rascal! if you attempt to tear the bill, I'll +blow your brains out. Steady, sir, sign. Good!" added he, as Coates most +reluctantly indorsed the bill. "Good! good! I'll be off with this bill +to London to-night, before you can stop it. No courier can beat +Bess--ha, ha! Eh! what's this?" continued Dick, as, unfolding another +leaf of the pocket-book, he chanced upon a letter; "My Lady Rookwood's +superscription! Excuse me, Mr. Coates, I must have a peep at her +ladyship's billet-doux. All's safe with me--man of honor. I must detain +your _reader_ a moment longer." + +"You should take charge of yourself, then," replied Coates, sulkily. +"_You_ appear to be my reader." + +"Bravo!" cried Turpin. "You may jest now with impunity, Mr. Coates. You +have paid dear enough for your jokes; and when should a man be allowed +to be pleasant, if not at his own expense?--ha, ha! What's this?" +exclaimed he, opening the letter. "A ring, as I'm awake! and from her +ladyship's own fair finger, I'll be sworn, for it bears her cipher, +ineffaceably impressed as your image upon her heart--eh, Coates? Egad! +you are a lucky dog, after all, to receive _such_ a favor from _such_ a +lady--ha, ha! Meantime, I'll take care of it for you," continued Dick, +slipping the ring on his little finger. + +Turpin, we have before remarked, had a turn for mimicry; and it was with +an irresistible feeling of deferential awe creeping over him that Coates +heard the contents of Lady Rookwood's epistle delivered with an +enunciation as peremptory and imperious as that of her ladyship's self. +The letter was hastily indited, in a clear, firm hand, and partook of +its writer's decision of character. Dick found no difficulty in +deciphering it. Thus ran the missive: + + "Assured of your devotion and secrecy, I commit my own honor, and + that of my son, to your charge. Time will not permit me to see you, + or I would not write. But I place myself entirely in your hands. You + will not dare to betray my confidence. To the point:--A Major + Mowbray has just arrived here with intelligence that the body of + Susan Bradley--you will know to whom I allude--has been removed from + our family vault by a Romish priest and his assistants. How it came + there, or why it has been removed, I know not; it is not my present + purpose to inquire. Suffice it, that it now lies in a vault beneath + the ruins of Davenham Priory. My son, Sir Ranulph, who has lent a + credulous ear to the artful tales of the impostor who calls this + woman mother, is at present engaged in arming certain of the + household, and of the tenantry, to seize upon and bring away this + body, as resistance is apprehended from a horde of gipsies who + infest the ruins. Now, mark me. THAT BODY MUST NOT BE FOUND! Be it + your business to prevent its discovery. Take the fleetest horse you + can procure; spare neither whip nor spur. Haste to the priory; + procure by any means, and at any expense, the assistance of the + gipsies. Find out the body; conceal it, destroy it--do what you + will, so my son find it not. Fear not his resentment; I will bear + you harmless of the consequences with him. You will act upon my + responsibility. I pledge my honor for your safety. Use all despatch, + and calculate upon due requital from + + "MAUD ROOKWOOD. + + "Haste, and God speed you!" + +"God speed you!" echoed Dick, in his own voice, contemptuously. "The +devil drive you! would have been a fitter postscript. And it was upon +this precious errand you came, Mr. Coates?" + +"Precisely," replied the attorney; "but I find the premises preoccupied. +Fast as I have ridden, you are here before me." + +"And what do you now propose to do?" asked Turpin. + +"Bargain with you for the body," replied Coates, in an insinuating tone. + +"With _me_!" said Dick; "do you take me for a resurrection cove; for a +dealer in dead stock, eh! sirrah?" + +"I take you for one sufficiently _alive_, in a general way, to his own +interests," returned Coates. "These gentlemen may not, perhaps, be quite +so scrupulous, when they hear my proposals." + +"Be silent, sir," interrupted Turpin. "Hist! I hear the tramp of horses' +hoofs without. Hark! that shout." + +"Make your own terms before they come," said Coates. "Leave all to me. +I'll put 'em on a wrong scent." + +"To the devil with your terms," cried Turpin; "the signal!" And he +pulled the trigger of one of Coates's pistols, the shot of which rang in +the ears of the astounded attorney as it whizzed past him. "Drag him +into the mouth of the vault," thundered Turpin: "he will be a capital +cover in case of attack. Look to your sticks, and be on the +alert;--away!" + +Vainly did the unfortunate attorney kick and struggle, swear and scream; +his hat was pushed over his eyes; his bob-wig thrust into his mouth; and +his legs tripped from under him. Thus blind, dumb, and half-suffocated, +he was hurried into the entrance of the cell. + +Dick, meanwhile, dashed to the arched outlet of the ruin. He there drew +in the rein, and Black Bess stood motionless as a statue. + + + + +_CHAPTER XIV_ + +_DICK TURPIN_ + + Many a fine fellow with a genius extensive enough to have effected + universal reformation has been doomed to perish by the halter. But + does not such a man's renown extend through centuries and tens of + centuries, while many a prince would be overlooked in history were + it not the historian's interest to increase the number of his pages? + Nay, when the traveller sees a gibbet, does he not exclaim, "That + fellow was no fool!" and lament the hardship of the + times?--SCHILLER: _The Robbers_. + + +Turpin's quick eye ranged over the spreading sward in front of the +ancient priory, and his brow became contracted. The feeling, however, +was transient. The next instant saw him the same easy, reckless being he +had been before. There was a little more paleness in his cheek than +usual; but his look was keener, and his knees involuntarily clasped the +saddle more firmly. No other symptom of anxiety was perceptible. It +would be no impeachment to Dick's valor were it necessary to admit that +a slight tremor crossed him as he scanned the formidable array of his +opponents. The admission is needless. Dick himself would have been the +last man to own it; nor shall we do the memory of our undaunted +highwayman any such injustice. Turpin was intrepid to a fault. He was +rash; apt to run into risks for the mere pleasure of getting out of +them: danger was his delight, and the degree of excitement was always in +proportion to the peril incurred. After the first glance, he became, to +use his own expressive phrase, "as cool as a cucumber;" and continued, +as long as they permitted him, like a skilful commander, calmly to +calculate the numerical strength of his adversaries, and to arrange his +own plan of resistance. + +This troop of horsemen, for such it was, might probably amount in the +aggregate to twenty men, and presented an appearance like that of a +strong muster at a rustic fox-chase, due allowance being made for the +various weapons of offence; to-wit: naked sabers, firelocks, and a world +of huge horse-pistols, which the present _field_ carried along with +them. This resemblance was heightened by the presence of an old huntsman +and a gamekeeper or two, in scarlet and green jackets, and a few yelping +hounds that had followed after them. The majority of the crew consisted +of sturdy yeomen; some of whom, mounted upon wild, unbroken colts, had +pretty lives of it to maintain their seats, and curvetted about in "most +admired disorder;" others were seated upon more docile, but quite as +provoking specimens of the cart-horse breed, whose sluggish sides, +reckless alike of hobnailed heel or ash sapling, refused to obey their +riders' intimations to move; while others again, brought stiff, +wrong-headed ponies to the charge--obstinate, impracticable little +brutes, who seemed to prefer revolving on their own axis, and describing +absurd rotatory motions, to proceeding in the direct and proper course +pointed out to them. Dick could scarcely forbear laughing at these +ridiculous man[oe]uvres; but his attention was chiefly attracted towards +three individuals, who were evidently the leaders of this warlike +expedition. In the thin, tall figure of the first of these he recognized +Ranulph Rookwood. With the features and person of the second of the +group he was not entirely unacquainted, and fancied--nor incorrectly +fancied--that his military bearing, or, as he would have expressed it, +"the soldier-like cut of his jib," could belong to no other than Major +Mowbray, whom he had once eased of a purse on Finchley Common. In the +round, rosy countenance and robustious person of the last of the trio he +discovered his ancient ally, Titus Tyrconnel. + +"Ah, Titus, my jewel, are you there?" exclaimed Dick, as he +distinguished the Irishman. "Come, I have _one_ friend among them whom I +may welcome. So, they see me now. Off they come, pell-mell. Back, Bess, +back!--slowly, wench, slowly--there--stand!" And Bess again remained +motionless. + +The report of Turpin's pistol reached the ears of the troop; and as all +were upon the alert, he had scarcely presented himself at the gateway, +when a loud shout was raised, and the whole cavalcade galloped towards +him, creating, as may be imagined, the wildest disorder; each horseman +yelling, as he neared the arch, and got involved in the press occasioned +by the unexpected concentration of forces at that point, while oaths and +blows, kicks and cuffs, were reciprocated with such hearty good-will, +that, had Turpin ever read Ariosto or Cervantes, or heard of the discord +of King Agramante's camp, this _melee_ must have struck him as its +realization. As it was, entertaining little apprehension of the result, +he shouted encouragement to them. Scarcely, however, had the foremost +horseman disentangled himself from the crowd, and, struggling to the +door, was in the act of levelling his pistol at Turpin's head, when a +well-directed ball pierced the brain of his charger, and horse and man +rolled to the ground. Vowing vengeance, a second succeeded, and was in +like manner compelled to bite the dust. + +"That will let Old Peter know that Ranulph Rookwood is at hand," +exclaimed Dick. "I shan't throw away another shot." + +The scene at the archway was now one of complete confusion. Terrified by +the shots, some of the boors would have drawn back, while others, in +mid career, advanced, and propelled them forwards. It was like the +meeting of two tides. Here and there, regardless of the bit, and scared +by the firing, a wild colt broke all bounds, and, hurling his rider in +the air, darted off into the green; or, in another case, rushed forward, +and encountering the prostrate cattle cumbering the entrance to the +priory hall, stumbled, and precipitated his master neck-over-heels at +the very feet of his enemy. During all this tumult, a few shots were +fired at the highwayman, which, without doing him a jot of mischief, +tended materially to increase their own confusion. + +The voice of Turpin was now heard above the din and turmoil to sound a +parley; and as he appeared disposed to offer no opposition, some of his +antagonists ventured to raise themselves from the ground, and to +approach him. + +"I demand to be led to Sir Ranulph Rookwood," said Turpin. + +"He is here," said Ranulph, riding up. "Villain, you are my prisoner." + +"As you list, Sir Ranulph," returned Dick, coolly; "but let me have a +word in private with you ere you do aught you may repent hereafter." + +"No words, sir--deliver up your arms, or----" + +"My pistols are at your service," replied Dick. "I have just discharged +them." + +"You may have others. We must search you." + +"Hold!" cried Dick; "if you will not listen to me, read that paper." And +he handed Ranulph his mother's letter to Mr. Coates. It was without the +superscription, which he had thrown aside. + +"My mother's hand!" exclaimed Ranulph, reddening with anger, as he +hastily perused its contents. "And she sent this to you? You lie, +villain--'tis a forgery." + +"Let this speak for me," returned Dick, holding out the finger upon +which Lady Rookwood's ring was placed. "Know you that cipher?" + +"You have stolen it," retorted Ranulph. "My mother," added he, in a +deep, stern whisper, articulated only for Turpin's hearing, "would never +have entrusted her honor to a highwayman's keeping." + +"She has entrusted more--her life," replied Dick, in a careless tone. +"She would have bribed me to do murder." + +"Murder!" echoed Ranulph, aghast. + +"Ay, to murder your brother," returned Dick; "but let that pass. You +have read that note. I have acted solely upon your mother's +responsibility. Lady Rookwood's _honor_ is pledged for my safety. Of +course her son will set me free." + +"Never!" + +"Well, as you please. Your mother is in my power. Betray me, and you +betray her." + +"No more!" returned Ranulph, sternly. "Go your ways. You are free." + +"Pledge me your word of honor I am safe." Ranulph had scarcely given his +pledge, when Major Mowbray rode furiously up. A deep flush of anger +burnt upon his cheeks; his sword was drawn in his hand. He glanced at +Turpin, as if he would have felled him from his saddle. + +"This is the ruffian," cried the major, fiercely, "by whom I was +attacked some months ago, and for whose apprehension the reward of three +hundred pounds is offered by his majesty's proclamation, with a free +pardon to his accomplices. This is Richard Turpin. He has just added +another crime to his many offences. He has robbed my mother and sister. +The postboy knew him the moment he came up. Where are they, villain? +Whither are they gone?--answer!" + +"I know not," replied Turpin, calmly. "Did not the lad tell you they +were rescued?" + +"Rescued!--by whom?" asked Ranulph, with great emotion. + +"By one who calls himself Sir Luke Rookwood," answered Turpin, with a +meaning smile. + +"By him!" ejaculated Ranulph. "Where are they now?" + +"I have already answered that question," said Dick. "I repeat, I know +not." + +"You are my prisoner," cried the major, seizing Turpin's bridle. + +"I have Sir Ranulph's word for my safety," rejoined Turpin. "Let go my +rein." + +"How is this?" asked Major Mowbray, incredulously. + +"Ask me not. Release him," replied Ranulph. + +"Ranulph," said the major, "you ask an impossibility. My honor--my +duty--is implicated in this man's capture." + +"The honor of all of us is involved in his deliverance," returned +Ranulph, in a whisper. "Let him go. I will explain all hereafter. Let us +search for them--for Eleanor. Surely, after this, you will help us to +find them," added he, addressing Turpin. + +"I wish, with all my soul, I could do so," replied the highwayman. + +"I see'd the ladies cross the brook, and enter these old ruins," +interposed the postboy, who had now joined the party. "I see'd 'em from +where I stood on the hill-side; and as I kept a pretty sharp look-out, +and have a tolerably bright eye of my own, I don't think as how they +ever comed out again." + +"Some one is hidden within yon fissure in the wall," exclaimed Ranulph; +"I see a figure move." + +And he flung himself from his horse, rushing towards the mouth of the +cell. Imitating his example, Major Mowbray followed his friend, sword in +hand. + +"The game begins now in right earnest," said Dick to himself; "the old +fox will be soon unearthed. I must look to my snappers." And he thrust +his hand quietly into his pocket in search of a pistol. + +Just as Ranulph and the major reached the recess they were startled by +the sudden apparition of the ill-fated attorney. + +"Mr. Coates!" exclaimed Ranulph, in surprise. "What do you here, sir?" + +"I--I--that is--Sir Ranulph--you must excuse me, sir--particular +business--can't say," returned the trembling attorney; for at this +instant his eye caught that of Turpin, and the ominous reflexion of a +polished-steel barrel, held carelessly towards him. He was aware, also, +that on the other hand he was, in like manner, the mark of Rust and +Wilder; those polite gentlemen having threatened him with a brace of +slugs in his brain if he dared to betray their hiding-place. "It is +necessary that I should be _guarded_ in my answers," murmured he. + +"Is there any one within that place besides yourself?" said the major, +making a movement thither. + +"No, sir, nobody at all," answered Coates, hastily, fancying at the same +time that he heard the click of the pistol that was to be his +death-warrant. + +"How came you here, sir?" demanded Ranulph. + +"Do you mean in this identical spot?" replied Coates, evasively. + +"You can have no difficulty in answering that question," said the major, +sternly. + +"Pardon me, sir. I find considerable difficulty in answering any +question, situated as I am." + +"Have you seen Miss Mowbray?" asked Ranulph, eagerly. + +"Or my mother?" said the major, in the same breath. + +"Neither," replied Coates, rather relieved by these questions. + +"I suspect you are deceiving us, sir," said the major. "Your manner is +confused. I am convinced you know more of this matter than you choose to +explain; and if you do not satisfy me at once, fully and explicitly, I +vow to Heaven----" and the major's sword described a glittering circle +round his head. + +"Are you privy to their concealment?" asked Ranulph. "Have you seen +aught of them, or of Luke Bradley?" + +"Speak, or this moment is your last," said the major. + +"If it _is_ my last, I _cannot_ speak," returned Coates. "I can make +neither head nor tail of your questions, gentlemen." + +"And you positively assure me you have not seen Mrs. Mowbray and her +daughter?" said Ranulph. + +Turpin here winked at Coates. The attorney understood him. + +"I don't positively assert that," faltered he. + +"How!--you _have_ seen them?" shouted Ranulph. + +"Where are they?--in safety--speak!" added the major. + +Another expressive gesture from the highwayman communicated to the +attorney the nature of his reply. + +"Without, sir--without--yonder," he replied. "I will show you myself. +Follow, gentlemen, follow." And away scampered Coates, without once +venturing to look behind him. + +In an instant the ruined hall was deserted, and Turpin alone left +behind. In the excitement of the moment his presence had been forgotten. +In an instant afterwards the _arena_ was again occupied by a company +equally numerous. Rust and Wilder issued from their hiding-places, +followed by a throng of the gipsy crew. + +"Where is Sir Luke Rookwood?" asked Turpin. + +"He remains below," was the answer returned. + +"And Peter Bradley?" + +"Stays there likewise." + +"No matter. Now make ready, pals. Give 'em one shout--Hurrah!" + +"Hurrah!" replied the crowd, at the top of their voices. + +Ranulph Rookwood and his companions heard this shout. Mr. Coates had +already explained the stratagem practised upon them by the wily +highwayman, as well as the perilous situation in which he himself had +been placed; and they were in the act of returning to make good his +capture, when the loud shouts of the crew arrested them. From the +clamor, it was evident that considerable reinforcement must have arrived +from some unlooked-for quarter; and, although burning to be avenged +upon the audacious highwayman, the major felt it would be a task of +difficulty, and that extreme caution could alone ensure success. With +difficulty restraining the impatience of Ranulph, who could scarcely +brook these few minutes of needful delay, Major Mowbray gave particular +instructions to each of the men in detail, and caused several of them to +dismount. By this arrangement Mr. Coates found himself accommodated with +a steed and a pair of pistols, with which latter he vowed to wreak his +vengeance upon some of his recent tormentors. After a short space of +time occupied in this manner, the troop slowly advanced towards the +postern, in much better order than upon the previous occasion; but the +stoutest of them quailed as they caught sight of the numerous gipsy-gang +drawn out in battle array within the abbey walls. Each party scanned the +other's movements in silence and wonder, anxiously awaiting, yet in a +measure dreading, their leader's signal to begin. That signal was not +long delayed. A shot from the ranks of Rookwood did instant and bitter +execution. Rob Rust was stretched lifeless upon the ground. Nothing more +was needed. The action now became general. Fire arms were discharged on +both sides, without much damage to either party. But a rush being made +by a detachment of horse, headed by Major Mowbray, the conflict soon +became more serious. The gipsies, after the first fire, threw aside +their pistols, and fought with long knives, with which they inflicted +desperate gashes, both on men and horses. Major Mowbray was slightly +wounded in the thigh, and his steed receiving the blow intended for +himself, stumbled and threw his rider. Luckily for the major, Ranulph +Rookwood was at hand, and with the butt-end of a heavy-handled pistol +felled the ruffian to the earth, just as he was upon the point of +repeating the thrust. + +Turpin, meanwhile, had taken comparatively a small share in the +conflict. He seemed to content himself with acting upon the defensive, +and except in the case of Titus Tyrconnel, whom, espying amidst the +crowd, he had considerably alarmed by sending a bullet through his wig, +he did not fire a single shot. He also succeeded in unhorsing Coates, by +hurling, with great dexterity, the empty pistol at his head. Though +apparently unconcerned in the skirmish, he did not flinch from it, but +kept his ground unyieldingly. "A charmed life" he seemed to bear; for +amid the shower of bullets, many of which were especially aimed at +himself, he came off unhurt. + +"He that's born to be hanged will never be drowned, that's certain," +said Titus. "It's no use trying to bring him down. But, by Jasus! he's +spoiled my best hat and wig, anyhow. There's a hole in my beaver as big +as a crown piece." + +"Your own crown's safe, and that's some satisfaction," said Coates; +"whereas mine has a bump on it as large as a swan's egg. Ah! if we could +only get behind him." + +The strife continued to rage without intermission; and though there were +now several ghastly evidences of its fury, in the shape of wounded men +and slaughtered or disabled horses, whose gaping wounds flooded the turf +with gore, it was still difficult to see upon which side victory would +eventually declare herself. The gipsies, though by far the greater +sufferers of the two, firmly maintained their ground. Drenched in the +blood of the horses they had wounded, and brandishing their long knives, +they presented a formidable and terrific appearance, the effect of which +was not at all diminished by their wild yells and savage gesticulations. +On the other hand, headed by Major Mowbray and Ranulph, the troop of +yeomen pressed on undauntedly; and where the sturdy farmers could get a +firm gripe of their lithe antagonists, or deliver a blow with their +ox-like fists, they seldom failed to make good the advantages which +superior weight and strength gave them. It will thus be seen that as yet +they were pretty well matched. Numbers were in favor of the gipsies, but +courage was equally distributed, and, perhaps, what is emphatically +called "bottom," was in favor of the rustics. Be this as it may, from +what had already occurred, there was every prospect of a very serious +termination to the fray. + +From time to time Turpin glanced to the entrance of the cell, in the +expectation of seeing Sir Luke Rookwood make his appearance; and, as he +was constantly disappointed in his expectation, he could not conceal his +chagrin. At length he resolved to despatch a messenger to him, and one +of the crew accordingly departed upon this errand. He returned presently +with a look of blank dismay. + +In our hasty narrative of the fight we have not paused to particularize, +neither have we enumerated, the list of the combatants. Amongst them, +however, were Jerry Juniper, the knight of Malta, and Zoroaster. +Excalibur, as may be conceived, had not been idle; but that trenchant +blade had been shivered by Ranulph Rookwood in the early stage of the +business, and the knight left weaponless. Zoroaster, who was not merely +a worshipper of fire, but a thorough milling-cove, had engaged to some +purpose in a pugilistic encounter with the rustics; and, having fought +several rounds, now "bore his blushing honors thick upon him." Jerry, +like Turpin, had remained tolerably quiescent. "The proper moment," he +said, "had not arrived." A fatality seemed to attend Turpin's immediate +companions. Rust was the first who fell; Wilder also was now among the +slain. Things were precisely in this condition when the messenger +returned. A marked change was instantly perceptible in Turpin's manner. +He no longer looked on with indifference. He seemed angry and +distrustful. He gnawed his lip, ever a sign with him of vexation. +Addressing a few words to those about him, he then spoke more loudly to +the rest of the crew. Being in the jargon of the tawny tribe, his words +were not intelligible to the opposite party; but their import was soon +made known by the almost instant and total relinquishment of the field +by the gipsies. They took to their heels at once, to a man, leaving only +a few desperately wounded behind them; and, flying along the intricate +ruins of the priory, baffled all pursuit, wherever it was attempted. +Jerry Juniper was the last in the retreat; but, upon receiving a hint +from Dick, he vaulted like a roe over the heads of his adversaries, and +made good his escape. Turpin alone remained. He stood like a lion at +bay, quietly regarding the huntsmen hurtling around him. Ranulph +Rookwood rode up and bade him surrender. + +"Detain me not," cried he, in a voice of thunder. "If you would save her +who is dear to you, descend into that vault. Off, I say." + +And Turpin shook away, with ease, the grasp that Ranulph had laid upon +him. + +"Villain! you do not escape me this time," said Major Mowbray, +interposing himself between Turpin and the outlet. + +"Major Mowbray, I would not have your blood upon my head," said Dick. +"Let me pass," and he levelled a pistol. + +"Fire, if you dare!" said the major, raising his sword. "You pass not. I +will die rather than allow you to escape. Barricade the door. Strike him +down if he attempts to pass. Richard Turpin, I arrest you in the king's +name. You hear, my lads, in his majesty's name. I command you to assist +me in this highwayman's capture. Two hundred pounds for his head." + +"Two hundred devils!" exclaimed Dick, with a laugh of disdain. "Go, seek +your mother and sister within yon vault, Major Mowbray; you will find +employment enough there." + +Saying which, he suddenly forced Bess to back a few yards; then, +striking his heels sharply into her sides, ere his purpose could be +divined by the spectators, charged, and cleared the lower part of the +mouldering priory walls. This feat was apparently accomplished with no +great effort by his admirable and unequalled mare. + +"By the powers!" cried Titus, "and he's given us the slip after all. And +just when we thought to make sure of him, too. Why, Mr. Coates, that +wall must be higher than a five-barred gate, or any stone wall in my own +country. It's just the most extraordinary lepp I ever set eyes on!" + +"The devil's in the fellow, certainly, or in his mare," returned Coates; +"but if he escapes me, I'll forgive him. I know whither he's bound. He's +off to London with my bill of exchange. I'll be up with him. I'll track +him like a bloodhound, slowly and surely, as my father, the thief-taker, +used to follow up a scent. Recollect the hare and the tortoise. The race +is not always to the swift. What say you? 'Tis a match for five hundred +pounds; nay, for five thousand: for there is a certain marriage +certificate in the way--a glorious golden venture! You shall go halves, +if we win. We'll have him, dead or alive. What say you for London, Mr. +Tyrconnel? Shall we start at once?" + +"With all my sowl," replied Titus. "I'm with you." And away this _par +nobile_ scoured. + +Ranulph, meantime, plunged into the vault. The floor was slippery, and +he had nigh stumbled. Loud and deep lamentations, and a wailing sound, +like that of a lament for the dead, resounded in his ears. A light at +the further extremity of the vault attracted his attention. He was +filled with terrible forebodings; but the worst reality was not so +terrible as suspense. He rushed towards the light. He passed the massive +pillars, and there, by the ruddy torch flame, discovered two female +figures. One was an old woman, fantastically attired, wringing her +hands, and moaning, or gibbering wild strains in broken, discordant, yet +pathetic tones. The other was Mrs. Mowbray. Both were images of despair. +Before them lay some motionless object. He noticed not that old woman; +he scarcely saw Mrs. Mowbray; he beheld only that object of horror. It +was the lifeless body of a female. The light fell imperfectly upon the +face; he could not discern the features, but the veil in which it was +swathed: that veil was Eleanor's! He asked no more. + +With a wild cry he rushed forward. "Eleanor, my beloved!" shrieked he. + +Mrs. Mowbray started at his voice, but appeared stunned and helpless. + +"She is dead," said Ranulph, stooping towards the body. "Dead--dead!" + +"Ay," echoed the old woman, in accents of equal anguish--"dead--dead!" + +"But this is _not_ Eleanor," exclaimed he, as he viewed the features +more closely. "This face, though beautiful, is not hers. This +dishevelled hair is black. The long lashes that shade her cheek are of +the same hue. She is scarce dead. The hand I clasp is yet warm--the +fingers are pliant." + +"Yet she is dead," said the old woman, in a broken voice, "she is +slain." + +"Who hath slain her?" asked Ranulph. + +"I--I--her mother, slew her." + +"You!" exclaimed Ranulph, horror-stricken. "And where is Eleanor?" asked +he. "Was she not here?" + +"Better she were here now, even though she were as that poor maid," +groaned Mrs. Mowbray, "than where she is." + +"Where is she, then?" asked Ranulph, with frantic eagerness. + +"Fled. Whither I know not." + +"With whom?" + +"With Sir Luke Rookwood--with Alan Rookwood. They have borne her hence. +Ranulph, you are too late." + +"Gone!" cried Ranulph, fiercely springing to his feet. "How escaped +they? There appears to be but one entrance to this vault. I will search +each nook and cranny." + +"'Tis vain," replied Mrs. Mowbray. "There is another outlet through yon +cell. By that passage they escaped." + +"Too true, too true," shouted Ranulph, who flew to examine the cell. +"And wherefore followed you not?" + +"The stone rolled to its mouth, and resisted my efforts. I could not +follow." + +"Torture and death! She is lost to me for ever!" cried Ranulph, +bitterly. + +"No!" exclaimed Barbara, clutching his arm. "Place your trust in me, and +I will find her for you." + +"You!" ejaculated Ranulph. + +"Even I," replied Barbara. "Your wrongs shall be righted--my Sybil be +avenged." + + + + +_BOOK IV_ + + +_THE RIDE TO YORK_ + + Then one halloo, boys! one loud cheering halloo! + To the swiftest of coursers, the gallant, the true, + For the sportsman unborn shall the memory bless + Of the horse of the highwayman, bonny Black Bess. + + RICHARD TURPIN. + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_THE RENDEZVOUS AT KILBURN_ + + _Hind._ Drink deep, my brave boys, of the bastinado; + Of stramazons, tinctures, and slie passatas; + Of the carricado, and rare embrocado; + Of blades, and rapier-hilts of surest guard; + Of the Vincentio and Burgundian ward. + Have we not bravely tossed this bombast foil-button? + Win gold and wear gold, boys, 'tis we that merit it. + + _Prince of Prigs' Revels._ + + _An excellent Comedy, replete with various conceits and Tarltonian + mirth._ + + +The present straggling suburb at the north-west of the metropolis, known +as Kilburn, had scarcely been called into existence a century ago, and +an ancient hostel, with a few detached farmhouses, were the sole +habitations to be found in the present populous vicinage. The place of +refreshment for the ruralizing cockney of 1737 was a substantial-looking +tenement of the good old stamp, with great bay windows, and a balcony in +front, bearing as its ensign the jovial visage of the lusty knight, Jack +Falstaff. Shaded by a spreading elm, a circular bench embraced the aged +trunk of the tree, sufficiently tempting, no doubt, to incline the +wanderer on those dusty ways to "rest and be thankful," and to cry +_encore_ to a frothing tankard of the best ale to be obtained within the +chimes of Bow bells. + +Upon a table, green as the privet and holly that formed the walls of the +bower in which it was placed, stood a great china bowl, one of those +leviathan memorials of bygone wassailry which we may sometimes +espy--reversed in token of its desuetude--perched on the top of an old +japanned closet, but seldom, if ever, encountered in its proper position +at the genial board. All the appliances of festivity were at hand. +Pipes and rummers strewed the board. Perfume, subtle, yet mellow, as of +pine and lime, exhaled from out the bowl, and, mingling with the scent +of a neighboring bed of mignonette and the subdued odor of the Indian +weed, formed altogether as delectable an atmosphere of sweets as one +could wish to inhale on a melting August afternoon. So, at least, +thought the inmates of the arbor; nor did they by any means confine +themselves to the gratification of a single sense. The ambrosial +contents of the china bowl proved as delicious to the taste as its +bouquet was grateful to the smell; while the eyesight was soothed by +reposing on the smooth sward of a bowling-green spread out immediately +before it, or in dwelling upon gently undulating meads, terminating, at +about a mile's distance, in the woody, spire-crowned heights of +Hampstead. + +At the left of the table was seated, or rather lounged, a slender, +elegant-looking young man, with dark, languid eyes, sallow complexion, +and features wearing that peculiarly pensive expression often +communicated by dissipation; an expression which, we regret to say, is +sometimes found more pleasing than it ought to be in the eyes of the +gentle sex. Habited in a light summer riding-dress, fashioned according +to the taste of the time, of plain and unpretending material, and rather +under than overdressed, he had, perhaps, on that very account, perfectly +the air of a gentleman. There was, altogether, an absence of pretension +about him, which, combined with great apparent self-possession, +contrasted very forcibly with the vulgar assurance of his showy +companions. The figure of the youth was slight, even to fragility, +giving little outward manifestation of the vigor of frame he in reality +possessed. This spark was a no less distinguished personage than Tom +King, a noted high-tobygloak of his time, who obtained, from his +appearance and address, the _sobriquet_ of the "Gentleman Highwayman." + +Tom was indeed a pleasant fellow in his day. His career was brief, but +brilliant: your meteors are ever momentary. He was a younger son of a +good family; had good blood in his veins, though not a groat in his +pockets. According to the old song-- + + When he arrived at man's estate, + It was _all the estate_ he had; + +and all the estate he was ever likely to have. Nevertheless, if he had +no income, he contrived, as he said, to live as if he had the mines of +Peru at his control--a miracle not solely confined to himself. For a +moneyless man, he had rather expensive habits. He kept his three nags; +and, if fame does not belie him, a like number of mistresses; nay, if we +are to place any faith in certain scandalous chronicles to which we have +had access, he was for some time the favored lover of a celebrated +actress, who, for the time, supplied him with the means of keeping up +his showy establishment. But things could not long hold thus. Tom was a +model of infidelity, and that was the only failing his mistress could +not overlook. She dismissed him at a moment's notice. Unluckily, too, he +had other propensities which contributed to involve him. He had a taste +for the turf--a taste for play--was well known in the hundreds of Drury, +and cut no mean figure at Howell's, and the faro tables there-anent. He +was the glory of the Smyrna, D'Osyndar's, and other chocolate houses of +the day; and it was at this time he fell into the hands of certain +dexterous sharpers, by whom he was at first plucked and subsequently +patronized. Under their tuition he improved wonderfully. He turned his +wit and talent to some account. He began to open his eyes. His nine +days' blindness was over. The dog saw. But, in spite of his quickness, +he was at length discovered, and ejected from Howell's in a manner that +left him no alternative. He must either have called out his adversary, +or have gone out himself. He preferred the latter, and took to the road; +and in his new line he was eminently successful. Fortunately, he had no +scruples to get over. Tom had what Sir Walter Scott happily denominates +"an indistinct notion of _meum_ and _tuum_," and became confirmed in the +opinion that everything he could lay hands upon constituted lawful +spoil. And then, even those he robbed, admitted that he was the most +gentlemanlike highwayman they had ever the fortune to meet with, and +trusted they might always be so lucky. So popular did he become upon the +road, that it was accounted a distinction to be stopped by him; he made +a point of robbing none but gentlemen, and--Tom's shade would quarrel +with us were we to omit them--ladies. His acquaintance with Turpin was +singular, and originated in a rencontre. Struck with his appearance, +Dick presented a pistol, and bade King deliver. The latter burst into a +laugh, and an explanation immediately ensued. Thenceforward they became +sworn brothers--the Pylades and Orestes of the road; and though seldom +seen together in public, had many a merry moonlight ride in company. + +Tom still maintained three mistresses, his valet, his groom--tiger, we +should have called him,--"and many a change of clothes besides," says +his biographer, "with which he appeared more like a lord than a +highwayman." And what more, we should like to know, would a lord wish to +have? Few younger sons, we believe, can boast so much; and it is chiefly +on their account, with some remote view to the benefit of the unemployed +youth of all professions, that we have enlarged so much upon Tom King's +history. The road, we must beg to repeat, is still open; the chances are +greater than they ever were; we fully believe it is _their_ only road to +preferment, and we are sadly in want of highwaymen! + +Fancy Tom lounging at D'Osyndar's, carelessly tapping his boots on the +steps; there he stands! Is he not a devilish good-looking, gentlemanlike +sort of fellow? You could never have taken him for a highwayman but for +our information. A waiter appears--supper is ordered at twelve--a +broiled chicken and a bottle of Burgundy--his groom brings his nags to +the door--he mounts. It is his custom to ride out on an evening--he is +less liable to interruption.[93] At Marylebone Fields--now the Regent's +Park,--his groom leaves him. He has a mistress in the neighborhood. He +is absent for a couple of hours, and returns gay or dispirited, as his +luck may have turned out. At twelve he is at supper, and has the night +before him. How very easy all this seems. Can it be possible we have no +Tom Kings? + +To return to Tom as he was in the arbor. Judging from his manner, he +appeared to be almost insensible to the presence of his companions, and +to be scarcely a partaker in their revelry. His back was towards his +immediate neighbor; his glass sparkled untouched at his elbow; and one +hand, beautifully white and small, a mark of his birth and +breeding--_crede_ Byron--rested upon the edge of the table, while his +thin, delicate digits, palpably demonstrative of his faculty of +adaptation--_crede_ James Hardy Vaux--were employed with a silver +toothpick. In other respects, he seemed to be lost in reverie, and was, +in all probability, meditating new exploits. + +Next to King sat our old friend Jerry Juniper; not, however, the Jerry +of the gipsies, but a much more showy-looking personage. Jerry was no +longer a gentleman of "three _outs_"--the difficulty would now have been +to say what he was "without." Snakelike he had cast his slough, and +rejoiced in new and brilliant investiture. His were "speaking garments, +speaking pockets too." His linen was of the finest, his hose of the +smartest. Gay rings glittered on his fingers; a crystal snuff-box +underwent graceful manipulation; a handsome gold repeater was sometimes +drawn from its location with a monstrous bunch of onions--_anglice_, +seals--depending from its massive chain. Lace adorned his wrists, and +shoes--of which they had been long unconscious,--with buckles nearly as +large as themselves, confined his feet. A rich-powdered peruke and +silver-hilted sword completed the gear of the transmogrified Jerry, or, +as he now chose to be designated, Count Albert Conyers. The fact was, +that Jerry, after the _fracas_, apprehensive that the country would be +too hot for him, had, in company with Zoroaster, quitted the ranks of +the Canting Crew, and made the best of his way to town. A lucky _spice_ +on the road set them up; and having some acquaintance with Tom King, the +party, on their arrival, sought him out at his customary haunt, +D'Osyndar's, and enlisted under his banners. + +Tom received them with open arms, gave them unlimited use of his +wardrobe, and only required a little trifling assistance in return. He +had a grand scheme _in petto_, in the execution of which they could +mainly assist him. Jerry was a _Greek_ by nature, and could _land_ a +flat as well as the best of them. Zoroaster was just the man to _lose_ a +fight; or, in the language of the _Fancy_, to _play a cross_. No two +_legs_ could serve Tom's purposes better. He welcomed them with +fraternal affection. + +We will now proceed to reconnoitre Jerry's opposite neighbor, who was, +however, no other than that Upright Man, + + The Magus Zoroaster, that great name. + +Changed as was Juniper, the Magus was yet more whimsically +metamorphosed. Some traces of Jerry still remained, but not a vestige +was left of the original Dimber Damber. His tawny mother had not known +her son. This alteration, however, was not owing to change of dress; it +was the result of the punishment he had received at the "_set-to_" at +the priory. Not a feature was in its place; his swollen lip trespassed +upon the precincts of his nose; his nose trod hard upon his cheek; while +his cheek again, not to be behind the rest, rose up like an +apple-dumpling under his single eye,--single, we say--for, alas! there +was no speculation in the other. His dexter daylight was utterly +darkened, and, indeed, the orb that remained was as sanguinary a +luminary as ever struggled through a London fog at noonday. To borrow a +couplet or so from the laureate of the _Fancy_: + + --------One of his peepers was put + On the bankruptcy list, with his shop windows shut, + While the other made nearly as tag-rag a show, + All rimmed round with black like the _Courier_ in woe. + +One black patch decorated his rainbow-colored cheek; another adorned his +chin; a grinder having been dislodged, his pipe took possession of the +aperture. His toggery was that of a member of the prize-ring; what we +now call a "belcher" bound his throat; a spotted _fogle_ bandaged his +_jobbernowl_, and shaded his right peeper, while a white beaver crowned +the occiput of the Magus. And though, at first sight, there would appear +to be some incongruity in the association of such a battered character +as the Upright Man with his smart companions, the reader's wonder will +rapidly diminish, when he reflects that any distinguished P. C. man can +ever find a ready passport to the most exclusive society. Viewed in this +light, Zoroaster's familiarity with his _swell_ acquaintance occasioned +no surprise to old Simon Carr, the bottle-nosed landlord of the +Falstaff, who was a man of discernment in his way, and knew a thing or +two. Despite such striking evidences to the contrary, the Magus was +perfectly at his ease, and sacrificing as usual to the god of flame. His +mithra, or pipe, the symbol of his faith, was zealously placed between +his lips, and never did his Chaldean, Bactrian, Persian, Pamphylian, +Proconnesian, or Babylonian namesake, whichever of the six was the true +Zoroaster--_vide_ Bayle,--respire more fervently at the altar of fire, +than our Magus at the end of his enkindled tube. In his creed we believe +Zoroaster was a dualist, and believed in the co-existence and mystical +relation of the principles of good and ill; his pipe being his Yezdan, +or benign influence; his empty pouch his Ahreman, or the devil. We shall +not pause to examine his tenets; we meddle with no man's religious +opinions, and shall leave the Magus to the enjoyment of his own +sentiments, be they what they may. + +One guest alone remains, and him we shall briefly dismiss. The reader, +we imagine, will scarcely need to be told who was the owner of those +keen gray eyes; those exuberant red whiskers; that airy azure frock. It +was + + Our brave co-partner of the roads. + Skilful surveyor of highways and hedges; + +in a word--Dick Turpin! + +Dick had been called upon to act as president of the board, and an +excellent president he made, sedulously devoting himself to the due +administration of the punch-bowl. Not a rummer was allowed to stand +empty for an instant. Toast, sentiment, and anacreontic song, succeeded +each other at speedy intervals; but there was no speechifying--no +politics. He left church and state to take care of themselves. Whatever +his politics might be, Dick never allowed them to interfere with his +pleasures. His maxim was to make the most of the passing moment; the +_dum vivimus vivamus_ was never out of his mind; a precautionary measure +which we recommend to the adoption of all gentlemen of the like, or any +other precarious profession. + +Notwithstanding all Dick's efforts to promote conviviality, seconded by +the excellence of the beverage itself, conversation, somehow or other, +began to flag; from being general it became particular. Tom King, who +was no punch-bibber, especially at that time of day, fell into a deep +reverie; your gamesters often do so; while the Magus, who had smoked +himself drowsy, was composing himself to a doze. Turpin seized this +opportunity of addressing a few words on matters of business to Jerry +Juniper, or, as he now chose to be called, Count Conyers. + +"My dear count," said Dick, in a low and confidential tone, "you are +aware that my errand to town is accomplished. I have _smashed_ Lawyer +Coates's _screen_, pocketed the _dimmock_--here 'tis," continued he, +parenthetically, slapping his pockets,--"and done t'other trick in prime +twig for Tom King. With a cool thousand in hand, I might, if I chose, +rest awhile on my oars. But a quiet life don't suit me. I must be +moving. So I shall start to Yorkshire to-night." + +"Indeed!" said the _soi-disant_ count, in a languid tone--"so soon?" + +"I have nothing to detain me," replied Dick. "And, to tell you the +truth, I want to see how matters stand with Sir Luke Rookwood. I should +be sorry if he went to the wall for want of any assistance I can render +him." + +"True," returned the count; "one would regret such an occurrence, +certainly. But I fear your assistance may arrive a little too late. He +is pretty well done up, I should imagine, by this time." + +"That remains to be seen," said Turpin. "His case is a bad one, to be +sure, but I trust not utterly hopeless. With all his impetuosity and +pride, I like the fellow, and will help him, if I can. It will be a +difficult game to set him on his legs, but I think it may be done. That +underground marriage was sheer madness, and turned out as ill as such a +scheme might have been expected to do. Poor Sybil! if I could pipe an +eye for anything, it should be for her. I can't get her out of my head. +Give me a pinch of snuff. Such thoughts unman one. As to the priest, +that's a totally different affair. If he strangled his daughter, old +Alan did right to take the law into his own hands, and throttle him in +return. I'd have done the same thing myself; and, being a proscribed +Jesuit, returned, as I understand, without the king's license for so +doing, why Father Checkley's murder--if it must be so called, I can't +abide hard terms--won't lie very heavy at Alan's door. That, however, +has nothing to do with Sir Luke. He was neither accessory nor +principal. Still he will be in danger, at least from Lady Rookwood. The +whole county of York, I make no doubt, is up in arms by this time." + +"Then why go thither?" asked the count, somewhat ironically; "for my +part, I've a strange fancy for keeping out of harm's way as long as +possible." + +"Every man to his taste," returned Turpin; "I love to confront danger. +Run away! pshaw! always meet your foe." + +"True," replied the count, "half-way! but you go the whole distance. +What prudent man would beard the lion in his den?" + +"I never was a prudent man," rejoined Dick, smiling; "I have no +superfluous caution about me. Come what will, I shall try to find out +this Luke Rookwood, and offer him my purse, such as it is, and it is now +better lined than usual; a hand free to act as he lists; and a head +which, imprudent though it be, can often think better for others than +for its own master." + +"Vastly fine!" exclaimed the count, with an ill-disguised sneer. "I hope +you don't forget that the marriage certificate which you hold is +perfectly valueless now. The estates, you are aware----" + +"Are no longer Sir Luke's. I see what you are driving at, count," +returned Dick, coldly. "But he will need it to establish his claim to +the title, and he shall have it. While he was Sir Luke, with ten +thousand a year, I drove a hard bargain, and would have stood out for +the last stiver. Now that he is one of '_us_', a mere Knight of the +Road, he shall have it and welcome." + +"Perhaps Lady Rookwood, or Mrs. Mowbray, might be inclined to treat," +maliciously insinuated the count; "the title may be worth something to +Ranulph." + +"It is worth more to Luke; and if it were _not_, he gets it. Are you +satisfied?" + +"Perfectly," replied the count, with affected _bonhomie_; "and I will +now let you into a secret respecting Miss Mowbray, from which you may +gather something for your guidance in this matter; and if the word of a +woman is at all to be trusted, though individually I cannot say I have +much faith in it, Sir Luke's planetary hour is not yet completely +overcast." + +"That's exactly what I wish to know, my dear fellow," said Turpin, +eagerly. "You have already told me you were witness to a singular +interview between Miss Mowbray and Sir Luke after my departure from the +priory. If I mistook you not, the whole business will hinge upon that. +What occurred? Let me have every particular. The whole history and +mystery." + +"You shall have it with pleasure," said the count; "and I hope it may +tend to your benefit. After I had quitted the scene of action at the +priory, and at your desire left the Rookwood party masters of the field, +I fled with the rest of the crew towards the rocks. There we held a +council of war for a short time. Some were for returning to the fight; +but this was negatived entirely, and in the end it was agreed that those +who had wives, daughters, and sisters, should join them as speedily as +possible at their retreat in the Grange. As I happened to have none of +these attractive ties, and had only a troublesome mistress, who I +thought could take care of herself, I did not care to follow them, but +struck deeper into the wood, and made my way, guided by destiny, I +suppose, towards the cave." + +"The cave!" cried Dick, rubbing his hands; "I delight in a cave. Tom +King and I once had a cave of our own at Epping, and I'll have another +one of these fine days. A cave is as proper to a high-tobyman as a +castle to a baron. Pray go on." + +"The cave I speak of," continued the count, "was seldom used, except +upon great emergencies, by any of the Stop Hole Abbey crew. It was a +sort of retiring den of our old lioness Barbara, and, like all +belonging to her, respected by her dupes. However, the cave is a good +cave for all that; is well concealed by brushwood, and comfortably +lighted from a crevice in the rock above; it lies near the brink of the +stream, amongst the woods just above the waterfall, and is somewhat +difficult of approach." + +"I know something of the situation," said Turpin. + +"Well," returned the count, "not to lose time, into this den I crept, +and, expecting to find it vacant, you may imagine my surprise on +discovering that it was already occupied, and that Sir Luke Rookwood, +his granddad, old Alan, Miss Mowbray, and, worst of all, the very person +I wished most to avoid, my old flame Handassah, constituted the party. +Fortunately, they did not perceive my entrance, and I took especial care +not to introduce myself. Retreat, however, was for the moment +impracticable, and I was compelled to be a listener. I cannot tell what +had passed between the parties before my arrival, but I heard Miss +Mowbray implore Sir Luke to conduct her to her mother. He seemed half +inclined to comply with her entreaties; but old Alan shook his head. It +was then Handassah put in a word; the minx was ever ready at that. 'Fear +not,' said she, 'that she will wed Sir Ranulph. Deliver her to her +friends, I beseech you, Sir Luke, and woo her honorably. She will accept +you.' Sir Luke stared incredulously, and grim old Alan smiled. 'She has +sworn to be yours,' continued Handassah; 'sworn it by every hope of +heaven, and the oath has been sealed by blood--by Sybil's blood.'--'Does +she speak the truth?' asked Sir Luke, trembling with agitation. Miss +Mowbray answered not. 'You will not deny it, lady,' said Handassah. 'I +heard that oath proposed. I saw it registered. You cannot deny it.'--'I +do not,' replied Miss Mowbray, with much anguish of manner; 'if he claim +me, I am his.'--'And he will claim you,' said Alan Rookwood, +triumphantly. 'He has your oath, no matter how extorted--you must fulfil +your vow.'--'I am prepared to do so,' said Eleanor. 'But if you would +not utterly destroy me, let this maid conduct me to my mother, to my +friends.'--'To Ranulph?' asked Sir Luke, bitterly.--'No, no,' returned +Miss Mowbray, in accents of deepest despair, 'to my mother--I wish not +to behold him again.'--'Be it so,' cried Sir Luke; 'but remember, in +love or hate, you are mine; I shall claim the fulfilment of your oath. +Farewell. Handassah will lead you to your mother.' Miss Mowbray bowed +her head, but returned no answer, while, followed by old Alan, Sir Luke +departed from the cavern." + +"Whither went they?" demanded Turpin. + +"That I know not," replied Jerry. "I was about to follow, when I was +prevented by the abrupt entrance of another party. Scarcely, I think, +could the two Rookwoods have made good their retreat, when shouts were +heard without, and young Ranulph and Major Mowbray forced their way, +sword in hand, into the cave. Here was a situation--for _me_, I mean--to +the young lady, I make no doubt, it was pleasant enough. But my neck was +in jeopardy. However, you know I am not deficient in strength, and, upon +the present occasion, I made the best use of the agility with which +nature has endowed me. Amidst the joyous confusion--the sobbings, and +embracings, and congratulations that ensued--I contrived, like a wild +cat, to climb the rocky sides of the cave, and concealed myself behind a +jutting fragment of stone. It was well I did so, for scarcely was I +hidden, when in came old Barbara, followed by Mrs. Mowbray, and a dozen +others." + +"Barbara!" ejaculated Dick. "Was she a prisoner?" + +"No," replied Jerry; "the old hell-cat is too deep for that. She had +betrayed Sir Luke, and hoped they would seize him and his granddad. But +the birds were flown." + +"I'm glad she was baulked," said Dick. "Was any search made after them?" + +"Can't say," replied Jerry. "I could only indistinctly catch the sounds +of their voices from my lofty retreat. Before they left the cavern, I +made out that Mrs. Mowbray resolved to go to Rookwood, and to take her +daughter thither--a proceeding to which the latter demurred." + +"To Rookwood," said Dick, musingly. "Will she keep her oath, I wonder?" + +"That's more than I can say," said Jerry, sipping his punch. "'Tis a +deceitful sex!" + +"'Tis a deceitful sex, indeed," echoed Dick, tossing off a tumbler. "For +one Sybil we meet with twenty Handassahs, eh, count?" + +"Twenty!--say rather a hundred," replied Jerry. "'Tis a vile sex." + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_TOM KING_ + + _Grimm._ How gloriously the sun sets to-night. + + _Moor._ When I was a boy, my favorite thought was, that I should + live and die like yonder glorious orb. It was a boyish thought. + + _Grimm._ True, captain. + + _The Robbers._ + + +"Peace, base calumniators," exclaimed Tom King, aroused from his +toothpick reverie by these aspersions of the best part of creation. +"Peace, I say. None shall dare abuse that dear devoted sex in the +hearing of their champion, without pricking a lance with him in their +behalf. What do you, either of you, who abuse woman in that wholesale +style, know of her? Nothing--less than nothing; and yet you venture, +upon your paltry experience, to lift up your voices and decry the sex. +Now I _do_ know her; and upon my own experience avouch, that, as a sex, +woman, compared with man, is as an angel to a devil. As a sex, woman is +faithful, loving, self-sacrificing. _We_ 'tis that make her otherwise; +_we_, selfish, exacting, neglectful men; we teach her indifference, and +then blame her apt scholarship. We spoil our own hand, and then blame +the cards. No abuse of women in my hearing. Give me a glass of grog, +Dick. 'The sex!--three times three!'--and here's a song for you into the +bargain." Saying which, in a mellow, plaintive tone, Tom gave the +following: + + PLEDGE OF THE HIGHWAYMAN + + Come, fill up a bumper to Eve's fairest daughters, + Who have lavished their smiles on the brave and the free; + Toast the sweethearts of DUDLEY, HIND, WILMOT, and WATERS,[94] + Whate'er their attraction, whate'er their degree. + Pledge! pledge in a bumper, each kind-hearted maiden, + Whose bright eyes were dimmed at the highwayman's fall; + Who stood by the gallows with sorrow o'erladen, + Bemoaning the fate of the gallant DU-VAL! + + Here's to each lovely lass chance of war bringeth near one, + Whom, with manner impassioned, we tenderly stop; + And to whom, like the lover addressing his dear one, + In terms of entreaty _the question_ we pop. + How oft, in such case, rosy lips have proved sweeter + Than the rosiest book, bright eyes saved a bright ring; + While that _one other_ kiss has brought off a _repeater_, + And a bead as a _favor_--the _favorite_ string. + + With our hearts ready rifled, each pocket we rifle, + With the pure flame of chivalry stirring our breasts; + Life's risk for our _mistress's praise_ is a trifle; + And each purse as a _trophy_ our _homage_ attests. + Then toss off your glasses to all girls of spirit, + Ne'er with names, or with number, your memories vex; + Our toast, boys, embraces each woman of merit, + And, for fear of omission, we'll drink the WHOLE SEX. + +"Well," replied Dick, replenishing King's rummer, while he laughed +heartily at his ditty, "I shan't refuse your toast, though my heart +don't respond to your sentiments. Ah, Tom! the sex you praise so much +will, I fear, prove your undoing. Do as you please, but curse me if ever +I pin my life to a petticoat. I'd as soon think of neglecting the four +cautions." + +"The four cautions," said King; "what are they?" + +"Did you never hear them?" replied Dick. "Attend, then, and be edified." + + THE FOUR CAUTIONS + + Pay attention to these cautions four, + And through life you will need little more, + Should you dole out your days to threescore + Beware of a pistol before! + Before! before! + Beware of a pistol before! + + And when backward his ears are inclined, + And his tail with his ham is combined, + Caution two you will bear in your mind: + Beware of a prancer behind! + Behind! behind! + Beware of a prancer behind! + + Thirdly, when in the park you may ride, + On your best bit of blood, sir, astride, + Chatting gay to your old friend's young bride: + Beware of a coach at the side! + At the side! at the side! + Beware of a coach at the side! + + Lastly, whether in purple or gray, + Canter, ranter, grave, solemn, or gay, + Whate'er he may do or may say, + Beware of a priest every way! + Every way! every way! + Beware of a priest every way! + +"Well," said Tom King, "all you can sing or say don't alter my good +opinion of the women. Not a secret have I from the girl of my heart. She +could have sold me over and over again if she had chosen, but my sweet +Sue is not the wench to do that." + +"It is not too late," said Dick. "Your Delilah may yet hand you over to +the Philistines." + +"Then I shall die in a good cause," said King; "but + + The Tyburn Tree + Has no terrors for me, + Let better men swing--I'm at liberty. + +I shall never come to the scragging-post, unless you turn topsman, Dick +Turpin. My nativity has been cast, and the stars have declared I am to +die by the hand of my best friend--and that's you--eh? Dick?" + +"It sounds like it," replied Turpin; "but I advise you not to become too +intimate with Jack Ketch. He may prove your best friend, after all." + +"Why, faith, that's true," replied King, laughing; "and if I must ride +backwards up Holborn Hill, I'll do the thing in style, and honest Jack +Ketch shall never want his dues. A man should always die game. We none +of us know how soon our turn may come; but come when it will, _I_ shall +never flinch from it. + + As the highwayman's life is the fullest of zest, + So the highwayman's death is the briefest and best; + He dies not as other men die, by degrees, + But at once! without flinching--and quite at his ease! + +as the song you are so fond of says. When I die it will not be of +consumption. And if the surgeon's knife must come near me, it will be +after death. There's some comfort in that reflection, at all events." + +"True," replied Turpin, "and, with a little alteration, my song would +suit you capitally: + + There is not a king, should you search the world round, + So blithe as the king's king, TOM KING, to be found; + Dear woman's his empire, each girl is his own, + And he'd have a long reign if he'd let 'em alone. + +Ha, ha!" + +"Ha, ha!" laughed Tom. "And now, Dick, to change the subject. You are +off, I understand, to Yorkshire to-night. 'Pon my soul, you are a +wonderful fellow--an _alibi_ personified!--here and everywhere at the +same time--no wonder you are called the flying highwayman. To-day in +town--to-morrow at York--the day after at Chester. The devil only knows +where you will pitch your quarters a week hence. There are rumors of you +in all counties at the same moment. This man swears you robbed him at +Hounslow; that on Salisbury Plain; while another avers you monopolize +Cheshire and Yorkshire, and that it isn't safe even to _hunt_ without +pops in your pocket. I heard some devilish good stories of you at +D'Osyndar's t'other day; the fellow who told them to me little thought I +was a brother blade." + +"You flatter me," said Dick, smiling complacently; "but it's no merit of +mine. Black Bess alone enables me to do it, and hers be the credit. +Talking of being everywhere at the same time, you shall hear what she +once did for me in Cheshire. Meantime, a glass to the best mare in +England. You won't refuse that toast, Tom. Ah! if your mistress is only +as true to you as my nag to me, you might set at naught the tightest +hempen cravat that was ever twisted, and defy your best friend to hurt +you. Black Bess! and God bless her! And now for the song." Saying which, +with much emotion, Turpin chanted the following rhymes: + + BLACK BESS + + Let the lover his mistress's beauty rehearse, + And laud her attractions in languishing verse; + Be it mine in rude strains, but with truth to express, + The love that I bear to my bonny Black Bess. + + From the west was her dam, from the east was her sire, + From the one came her swiftness, the other her fire; + No peer of the realm better blood can possess + Than flows in the veins of my bonny Black Bess. + + Look! Look! how that eyeball grows bright as a brand! + That neck proudly arches, those nostrils expand! + Mark! that wide flowing mane! of which each silky tress + Might adorn prouder beauties--though none like Black Bess. + + Mark! that skin sleek as velvet, and dusky as night, + With its jet undisfigured by one lock of white; + That throat branched with veins, prompt to charge or caress + Now is she not beautiful?--bonny Black Bess! + + Over highway and by-way, in rough and smooth weather, + Some thousands of miles have we journeyed together; + Our couch the same straw, and our meal the same mess + No couple more constant than I and Black Bess. + + By moonlight, in darkness, by night, or by day, + Her headlong career there is nothing can stay; + She cares not for distance, she knows not distress: + Can you show me a courser to match with Black Bess? + +"Egad! I should think not," exclaimed King; "you are as sentimental on +the subject of your mare, as I am when I think of my darling Susan. But +pardon my interruption. Pray proceed." + +"Let me first clear my throat," returned Dick; "and now to resume:" + + Once it happened in Cheshire, near Dunham, I popped + On a horseman alone, whom I speedily stopped; + That I lightened his pockets you'll readily guess-- + Quick work makes Dick Turpin when mounted on Bess. + + Now it seems the man knew me; "Dick Turpin," said he, + "You shall swing for this job, as you live, d'ye see;" + I laughed at his threats and his vows of redress; + I was sure of an _alibi_ then with Black Bess. + + The road was a hollow, a sunken ravine,[95] + Overshadowed completely by wood like a screen; + I clambered the bank, and I needs must confess, + That one touch of the spur grazed the side of Black Bess. + + Brake, brook, meadow, and plough'd field, Bess fleetly bestrode, + As the crow wings her flight we selected our road; + We arrived at Hough Green in five minutes, or less-- + My neck it was saved by the speed of Black Bess. + + Stepping carelessly forward, I lounge on the green, + Taking excellent care that by all I am seen; + Some remarks on time's flight to the squires I address, + But I say not a word of the flight of Black Bess. + + I mention the hour--it was just about four-- + Play a rubber at bowls--think the danger is o'er; + When athwart my next game, like a checkmate at chess, + Comes the horsemen in search of the rider of Bess. + + What matter details? Off with triumph I came; + He swears to the hour, and the squires swear the same; + I had robbed him at _four_!--while at four _they_ profess + I was quietly bowling--all thanks to Black Bess! + + Then one halloo, boys, one loud cheering halloo! + To the swiftest of coursers, the gallant, the true! + For the sportsman unborn shall the memory bless + Of the horse of the highwayman, bonny Black Bess! + +Loud acclamations rewarded Dick's performance. Awakened from his doze, +Zoroaster beat time to the melody, the only thing, Jerry said, he was +capable of _beating_ in his present shattered condition. After some +little persuasion, the Magus was prevailed upon to enliven the company +with a strain, which he trolled forth after a maudlin manner: + + THE DOUBLE CROSS + + Though all of us have heard of _crost_ fights, + And certain _gains_, by certain _lost_ fights, + I rather fancies that it's news, + How in a mill, _both_ men should _lose_; + For vere the _odds_ are thus made _even_, + It plays the dickens with the _steven_;[96] + Besides, against all rule they're sinning, + Vere _neither_ has _no_ chance of vinning. + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + + Two _milling coves_, each vide avake, + Vere backed to fight for heavy stake: + But in the mean time, so it vos, + Both _kids_ agreed to _play a cross_; + Bold came each _buffer_[97] to the _scratch_, + To make it look a _tightish match_; + They _peeled_[98] in style, and bets vere making, + 'Tvos six to four, but few vere _taking_. + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + + Quite cautiously the mill began, + For neither knew the other's plan; + Each _cull_[99] completely in the _dark_, + Of vot might be his neighbor's _mark_; + Resolved his _fibbing_[100] not to mind, + Nor yet to _pay him back in kind_; + So on each other _kept they tout_,[101] + And _sparred_ a bit, and _dodged_ about, + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + + Vith _mawleys_[102] raised, Tom bent his back, + As if to _plant_ a heavy thwack: + Vile Jem, with neat left-handed _stopper_, + Straight threatened Tommy with a _topper_; + 'Tis all my eye! no _claret_ flows, + No _facers_ sound--no smashing blows-- + Five minutes pass, yet not a _hit_, + How can it end, pals?--vait a bit. + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + + Each cove vas _teazed_ with double duty, + To please his backers, yet _play booty_;[103] + Ven, luckily for Jem, a _teller_ + Vos planted right upon his _smeller_; + Down dropped he, stunned; ven time vas called, + Seconds in vain the _seconds_ bawled; + The _mill_ is o'er, the crosser _crost_, + The loser's _von_, the vinner's _lost_! + _Ri, tol, lol, &c._ + +The party assumed once more a lively air, and the glass was circulated +so freely, that at last a final charge drained the ample bowl of its +contents. + +"The best of friends must part," said Dick; "and I would willingly order +another whiff of punch, but I think we have all had _enough to satisfy +us_, as you milling coves have it, Zory! Your one eye has got a drop in +it already, old fellow; and, to speak the truth, I must be getting into +the saddle without more delay, for I have a long ride before me. And +now, friend Jerry, before I start, suppose you tip us one of your merry +staves; we haven't heard your pipe to-day, and never a cross cove of us +all can throw off so prime a chant as yourself. A song! a song!" + +"Ay, a song!" reiterated King and the Magus. + +"You do me too much honor, gemmen," said Jerry, modestly, taking a pinch +of snuff; "I am sure I shall be most happy. My chants are all of a sort. +You must make all due allowances--hem!" And, clearing his throat, he +forthwith warbled + + THE MODERN GREEK + + (_Not_ translated from the Romaic.) + + Come, gemmen, name, and make your game, + See, round the ball is spinning. + Black, red, or blue, the colors view, + _Une_, _deux_, _cinque_, 'tis beginning, + Then make your game, + The color name, + While round the ball is spinning. + + This sleight of hand my _flat_ shall _land_ + While _covered_ by my _bonnet_,[104] + I _plant_ my ball, and boldly call, + Come make your game upon it! + Thus rat-a-tat! + I land my flat! + 'Tis black--not red--is winning. + + At gay _roulette_ was never met + A lance like mine for _bleeding_! + I'm ne'er _at fault_, at nothing halt, + All other _legs_ preceding. + To all awake, + I never shake + A _mag_[105] unless I nip it. + + _Blind-hookey_ sees how well I squeeze + The _well-packed_ cards in shuffling. + Ecarte, whist, I never missed, + A nick the _broads_[106] while ruffling. + Mogul or loo, + The same I do, + I am down to trumps as trippet! + + _French hazard_ ta'en, _I nick the main_, + Was ne'er so prime a _caster_. + No _crabs_ for me, I'm fly, d'ye see; + The bank shall change its master. + Seven _quatre_, _trois_, + The stakes are high! + Ten _mains_! ten _mains_ are mine, pals! + + At _Rouge et Noir_, you _hellite_[107] choir + I'll make no bones of stripping; + One glorious _coup_ for me shall _do_, + While they may deal each _pip_ in. + _Trente-un-apres_ + Ne'er clogs my way; + The game--the game's divine, pals. + + At billiards set, I make my bet, + I'll _score_ and win the _rub_, pals; + I miss my _cue_, my _hazard_, too, + But yet my foe I'll drub, pals. + That _cannon-twist_, + I ne'er had missed, + Unless to suit my views, pals. + + To make all right, the match look _tight_, + This trick, you know, is done, pals; + But now be gay, I'll _show_ my play-- + Hurrah! the game is won, pals. + No hand so fine, + No wrist like mine, + No odds I e'er refuse, pals. + + Then choose your game; whate'er you name, + To me alike all offers; + Chic-hazard, whist, whate'er you list, + Replenish quick your coffers. + Thus, rat-a-tat! + I _land_ my _flat_! + To every purse I _speak_, pals. + + _Cramped boxes_ 'ware, all's right and fair, + _Barred balls_ I _bar_ when goaded; + The deuce an ace is out of place! + The deuce a die is _loaded_! + Then make your game, + Your color name; + Success attend the _Greek_, pals. + +"Bravo, Jerry--bravissimo!" chorused the party. + +"And now, pals, farewell!--a long farewell!" said Dick, in a tone of +theatrical valediction. "As I said before, the best friends must +separate. We may soon meet again, or we now may part forever. We cannot +command our luck; but we can make the best of the span allotted to us. +You have your game to play. I have mine. May each of us meet with the +success he deserves." + +"Egad! I hope not," said King. "I'm afraid, in that case, the chances +would be against us." + +"Well, then, the success we anticipate, if you prefer it," rejoined +Dick. "I have only to observe one thing more, namely, that I must insist +upon standing Sam upon the present occasion. Not a word. I won't hear a +syllable. Landlord, I say--what oh!" continued Dick, stepping out of the +arbor. "Here, my old Admiral of the White, what's the reckoning?--what's +to pay, I say?" + +"Let ye know directly, sir," replied mine host of the Falstaff. + +"Order my horse--the black mare," added Dick. + +"And mine," said King, "the sorrel colt. I'll ride with you a mile or +two on the road, Dick; perhaps we may stumble upon something." + +"Very likely." + +"We meet at twelve, at D'Osyndar's, Jerry," said King, "if nothing +happens." + +"Agreed," responded Juniper. + +"What say you to a rubber at bowls, in the mean time?" said the Magus, +taking his everlasting pipe from his lips. + +Jerry nodded acquiescence. And while they went in search of the +implements of the game, Turpin and King sauntered gently on the green. + +It was a delicious evening. The sun was slowly declining, and glowed +like a ball of fire amid the thick foliage of a neighboring elm. +Whether, like the robber Moor, Tom King was touched by this glorious +sunset, we pretend not to determine. Certain it was that a shade of +inexpressible melancholy passed across his handsome countenance, as he +gazed in the direction of Harrow-on-the Hill, which, lying to the west +of the green upon which they walked, stood out with its pointed spire +and lofty college against the ruddy sky. He spoke not. But Dick noticed +the passing emotion. + +"What ails you, Tom?" said he, with much kindness of manner--"are you +not well, lad?" + +"Yes, I am well enough," said King; "I know not what came over me, but +looking at Harrow, I thought of my school days, and what I was _then_, +and that bright prospect reminded me of my boyish hopes." + +"Tut--tut," said Dick, "this is idle--you are a man now." + +"I know I am," replied Tom, "but I _have_ been a boy. Had I any faith in +presentiments, I should say this is the last sunset I shall ever see." + +"Here comes our host," said Dick, smiling. "I've no presentiment that +this is the last bill I shall ever pay." + +The bill was brought and settled. As Turpin paid it, the man's conduct +was singular, and awakened his suspicions. + +"Are our horses ready?" asked Dick, quickly. + +"They are, sir," said the landlord. + +"Let us be gone," whispered Dick to King; "I don't like this fellow's +manner. I thought I heard a carriage draw up at the inn door just +now--there may be danger. Be fly!" added he to Jerry and the Magus. +"Now, sir," said he to the landlord, "lead the way. Keep on the alert, +Tom." + +Dick's hint was not lost upon the two bowlers. They watched their +comrades; and listened intently for any manifestation of alarm. + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_A SURPRISE_ + + Was this well done, Jenny?--_Captain Macheath._ + + +While Turpin and King are walking across the bowling-green, we will see +what has taken place outside the inn. Tom's presentiments of danger were +not, it appeared, without foundation. Scarcely had the ostler brought +forth our two highwaymen's steeds, when a post-chaise, escorted by two +or three horsemen, drove furiously up to the door. The sole occupant of +the carriage was a lady, whose slight and pretty figure was all that +could be distinguished, her face being closely veiled. The landlord, who +was busied in casting up Turpin's account, rushed forth at the summons. +A word or two passed between him and the horsemen, upon which the +former's countenance fell. He posted in the direction of the garden; and +the horsemen instantly dismounted. + +"We have him now, sure enough," said one of them, a very small man, who +looked, in his boots, like Buckle equipped for the Oaks. + +"By the powers! I begin to think so," replied the other horseman. "But +don't spoil all, Mr. Coates, by being too precipitate." + +"Never fear that, Mr. Tyrconnel," said Coates; for it was the gallant +attorney: "he's sure to come for his mare. That's a _trap_ certain to +catch him, eh, Mr. Paterson? With the chief constable of Westminster to +back us, the devil's in it if we are not a match for him." + +"And for Tom King, too," replied the chief constable; "since his +blowen's peached, the game's up with him, too. We've long had an eye +upon him, and now we'll have a finger. He's one of your dashing trouts +to whom we always give a long line, but we'll _land_ him this time, +anyhow. If you'll look after Dick Turpin, gemmen, I'll make sure of +Tom." + +"I'd rather you would help _us_, Mr. Paterson," said Coates; "never mind +Tom King; another time will do for him." + +"No such thing," said Paterson; "one _weighs_ just as much for that +matter as t'other. I'll take Tom to myself, and surely you two, with the +landlord and ostler, can manage Turpin amongst you." + +"I don't know that," said Coates, doubtfully; "he's a devil of a fellow +to deal with." + +"Take him quietly," said Paterson. "Draw the chaise out of the way, lad. +Take our tits to one side, and place their nags near the door, ostler. +Shall you be able to see him, ma'am, where you are?" asked the chief +constable, walking to the carriage, and touching his hat to the lady +within. Having received a satisfactory nod from the bonnet and veil, he +returned to his companions. "And now, gemmen," added he, "let's step +aside a little. Don't use your fire-arms too soon." + +As if conscious of what was passing around her, and of the danger that +awaited her master, Black Bess exhibited so much impatience, and plunged +so violently, that it was with difficulty the ostler could hold her. +"The devil's in the mare," said he; "what's the matter with her? She was +quiet enough a few minutes since. Soho! lass, stand." + +Turpin and King, meanwhile, walked quickly through the house, preceded +by the host, who conducted them, and not without some inward +trepidation, towards the door. Arrived there, each man rushed swiftly to +his horse. Dick was in the saddle in an instant, and stamping her foot +on the ostler's leg, Black Bess compelled the man, yelling with pain, to +quit his hold of the bridle. Tom King was not equally fortunate. Before +he could mount his horse, a loud shout was raised, which startled the +animal, and caused him to swerve, so that Tom lost his footing in the +stirrup, and fell to the ground. He was instantly seized by Paterson, +and a struggle commenced, King endeavoring, but in vain, to draw a +pistol. + +"Flip him,[108] Dick; fire, or I'm taken," cried King. "Fire! damn you, +why don't you fire?" shouted he, in desperation, still struggling +vehemently with Paterson, who was a strong man, and more than a match +for a light weight like King. + +"I can't," cried Dick; "I shall hit you, if I fire." + +"Take your chance," shouted King. "Is _this_ your friendship?" + +Thus urged, Turpin fired. The ball ripped up the sleeve of Paterson's +coat, but did not wound him. + +"Again!" cried King. "Shoot him, I say. Don't you hear me? Fire again!" + +Pressed as he was by foes on every side, himself their mark, for both +Coates and Tyrconnel had fired upon him, and were now mounting their +steeds to give chase, it was impossible that Turpin could take sure aim; +added to which, in the struggle, Paterson and King were each moment +changing their relative positions. He, however, would no longer +hesitate, but again, at his friend's request, fired. The ball lodged +itself in King's breast! He fell at once. At this instant a shriek was +heard from the chaise: the window was thrown open, and her thick veil +being drawn aside, the features of a very pretty female, now impressed +with terror and contrition, were suddenly exhibited. + +King fixed his glazing eyes upon her. + +"Susan!" sighed he, "is it you that I behold?" + +"Yes, yes, 'tis she, sure enough," said Paterson. "You see, ma'am, what +you and such like have brought him to. However, you'll lose your reward; +he's going fast enough." + +"Reward!" gasped King; "reward! Did she betray me?" + +"Ay, ay, sir," said Paterson, "she blowed the gaff, if it's any +consolation to you to know it." + +"Consolation!" repeated the dying man; "perfidious!--oh!--the +prophecy--my best friend--Turpin--I die by his hand." + +And vainly striving to raise himself, he fell backwards and expired. +Alas, poor Tom! + +"Mr. Paterson! Mr. Paterson!" cried Coates; "leave the landlord to look +after the body of that dying ruffian, and mount with us in pursuit of +the living rascal. Come, sir; quick! mount! despatch! You see he is +yonder; he seems to hesitate; we shall have him now." + +"Well, gemmen, I'm ready," said Paterson; "but how the devil came you to +let him escape?" + +"Saint Patrick only knows!" said Titus; "he's as slippery as an +eel--and, like a cat, turn him which way you will, he is always sure to +alight upon his legs. I wouldn't wonder but we lose him now, after all, +though he has such a small start. That mare flies like the wind." + +"He shall have a tight run for it, at all events," said Paterson, +putting spurs into his horse. "I've got a good nag under me, and you are +neither of you badly mounted. He's only three hundred yards before us, +and the devil's in it if we can't run him down. It's a three hundred +pound job, Mr. Coates, and well worth a race." + +"You shall have another hundred from me, sir, if you take him," said +Coates, urging his steed forward. + +"Thank you, sir, thank you. Follow my directions, and we'll make sure of +him," said the constable. "Gently, gently, not so fast up the hill--you +see he's breathing his horse. All in good time, Mr. Coates--all in good +time, sir." + +And maintaining an equal distance, both parties cantered leisurely up +the ascent now called Windmill Hill. We shall now return to Turpin. + +Aghast at the deed he had accidentally committed, Dick remained for a +few moments irresolute; he perceived that King was mortally wounded, and +that all attempts at rescue would be fruitless; he perceived, likewise, +that Jerry and the Magus had effected their escape from the +bowling-green, as he could detect their figures stealing along the +hedge-side. He hesitated no longer. Turning his horse, he galloped +slowly off, little heeding the pursuit with which he was threatened. + +"Every bullet has its billet," said Dick; "but little did I think that I +really should turn poor Tom's executioner. To the devil with this +rascally snapper," cried he, throwing the pistol over the hedge. "I +could never have used it again. 'Tis strange, too, that he should have +foretold his own fate--devilish strange! And then that he should have +been betrayed by the very blowen he trusted! that's a lesson, if I +wanted any. But trust a woman!--not I, the length of my little finger." + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_THE HUE AND CRY_ + + Six gentlemen upon the road + Thus seeing Gilpin fly, + With postboy scampering in the rear, + They raised the hue and cry: + + Stop thief! stop thief! a highwayman! + Not one of them was mute; + And all and each that passed that way + Did join in the pursuit. + + _John Gilpin._ + + +Arrived at the brow of the hill, whence such a beautiful view of the +country surrounding the metropolis is obtained,[109] Turpin turned for +an instant to reconnoitre his pursuers. Coates and Titus he utterly +disregarded; but Paterson was a more formidable foe, and he well knew +that he had to deal with a man of experience and resolution. It was +then, for the first time, that the thoughts of executing his +extraordinary ride to York first flashed across him; his bosom throbbed +high with rapture, and he involuntarily exclaimed aloud, as he raised +himself in the saddle, "By God! I will do it!" + +He took one last look at the great Babel that lay buried in a world of +trees beneath him; and as his quick eye ranged over the magnificent +prospect, lit up by that gorgeous sunset, he could not help thinking of +Tom King's last words. "Poor fellow!" thought Dick, "he said truly. He +will never see another sunset." Aroused by the approaching clatter of +his pursuers, Dick struck into a lane which lies on the right of the +road, now called Shoot-up-hill Lane, and set off at a good pace in the +direction of Hampstead. + +"Now," cried Paterson, "put your tits to it, my boys. We must not lose +sight of him for a second in these lanes." + +Accordingly, as Turpin was by no means desirous of inconveniencing his +mare in this early stage of the business, and as the ground was still +upon an ascent, the parties preserved their relative distances. + +At length, after various twistings and turnings in that deep and devious +lane; after scaring one or two farmers, and riding over a brood or two +of ducks; dipping into the verdant valley of West End, and ascending +another hill, Turpin burst upon the gorsy, sandy, and beautiful heath of +Hampstead. Shaping his course to the left, Dick then made for the lower +part of the heath, and skirted a path that leads towards North End, +passing the furze-crowned summit which is now crested by a clump of +lofty pines. + +It was here that the chase first assumed a character of interest. Being +open ground, the pursued and pursuers were in full view of each other; +and as Dick rode swiftly across the heath, with the shouting trio hard +at his heels, the scene had a very animated appearance. He crossed the +hill--the Hendon Road--passed Crackskull Common--and dashed along the +cross road to Highgate. + +Hitherto no advantage had been gained by the pursuers; they had not lost +ground, but still they had not gained an inch, and much spurring was +required to maintain their position. As they approached Highgate, Dick +slackened his pace, and the other party redoubled their efforts. To +avoid the town, Dick struck into a narrow path at the right, and rode +easily down the hill. + +His pursuers were now within a hundred yards, and shouted to him to +stand. Pointing to a gate which seemed to bar their further progress, +Dick unhesitatingly charged it, clearing it in beautiful style. Not so +with Coates's party; and the time they lost in unfastening the gate, +which none of them chose to leap, enabled Dick to put additional space +betwixt them. It did not, however, appear to be his intention altogether +to outstrip his pursuers: the chase seemed to give him excitement, which +he was willing to prolong as much as was consistent with his safety. +Scudding rapidly past Highgate, like a swift-sailing schooner, with +three lumbering Indiamen in her wake, Dick now took the lead along a +narrow lane that threads the fields in the direction of Hornsey. The +shouts of his followers had brought others to join them, and as he +neared Crouch End, traversing the lane which takes its name from Du-Val, +and in which a house frequented by that gayest of robbers stands, or +stood, "A highwayman! a highwayman!" rang in his ears, in a discordant +chorus of many voices. + +The whole neighborhood was alarmed by the cries, and by the tramp of +horses: the men of Hornsey rushed into the road to seize the fugitive, +and women held up their babes to catch a glimpse of the flying +cavalcade, which seemed to gain number and animation as it advanced. +Suddenly three horsemen appear in the road--they hear the uproar and the +din. "A highwayman! a highwayman!" cry the voices: "stop him, stop him!" +But it is no such easy matter. With a pistol in each hand, and his +bridle in his teeth, Turpin passed boldly on. His fierce looks--his +furious steed--the impetus with which he pressed forward, bore down all +before him. The horsemen gave way, and only served to swell the list of +his pursuers. + +"We have him now--we have him now!" cried Paterson, exultingly. "Shout +for your lives. The turnpike man will hear us. Shout again--again! The +fellow has heard it. The gate is shut. We have him. Ha, ha!" + +The old Hornsey toll-bar was a high gate, with chevaux-de-frise on the +upper rail. It may be so still. The gate was swung into its lock, and, +like a tiger in his lair, the prompt custodian of the turnpike trusts, +ensconced within his doorway, held himself in readiness to spring upon +the runaway. But Dick kept steadily on. He coolly calculated the height +of the gate; he looked to the right and to the left--nothing better +offered; he spoke a few words of encouragement to Bess, gently patted +her neck, then struck his spurs into her sides, and cleared the spikes +by an inch. Out rushed the amazed turnpike man, thus unmercifully +bilked, and was nearly trampled to death under the feet of Paterson's +horse. + +"Open the gate, fellow, and be expeditious," shouted the chief +constable. + +"Not I," said the man, sturdily, "unless I gets my dues. I've been done +once already. But strike me stupid if I'm done a second time." + +"Don't you perceive that's a highwayman? Don't you know that I'm chief +constable of Westminster?" said Paterson, showing his staff. "How dare +you oppose me in the discharge of my duty?" + +"That may be, or it may not be," said the man, doggedly. "But you don't +pass, unless I gets the blunt, and that's the long and short on it." + +Amidst a storm of oaths, Coates flung down a crown piece, and the gate +was thrown open. + +Turpin took advantage of this delay to breathe his mare; and, striking +into a by-lane at Duckett's Green, cantered easily along in the +direction of Tottenham. Little repose was allowed him. Yelling like a +pack of hounds in full cry, his pursuers were again at his heels. He had +now to run the gauntlet of the long straggling town of Tottenham, and +various were the devices of the populace to entrap him. The whole place +was up in arms, shouting, screaming, running, dancing, and hurling every +possible description of missile at the horse and her rider. Dick merrily +responded to their clamor as he flew past, and laughed at the brickbats +that were showered thick as hail, and quite as harmlessly, around him. + +A few more miles' hard riding tired the volunteers, and before the chase +reached Edmonton most of them were "_nowhere_." Here fresh relays were +gathered, and a strong field was again mustered. John Gilpin himself +could not have excited more astonishment amongst the good folks of +Edmonton, than did our highwayman as he galloped through their town. +Unlike the men of Tottenham, the mob received him with acclamations, +thinking, no doubt, that, like "the citizens of famous London town," he +rode for a wager. Presently, however, borne on the wings of the blast, +came the cries of "Turpin! Dick Turpin!" and the hurrahs were changed to +hootings; but such was the rate at which our highwayman rode, that no +serious opposition could be offered to him. + +A man in a donkey-cart, unable to get out of the way, drew himself up in +the middle of the road. Turpin treated him as he had done the _dub_ at +the _knapping jigger_, and cleared the driver and his little wain with +ease. This was a capital stroke, and well adapted to please the +multitude, who are ever taken with a brilliant action. "Hark away, +Dick!" resounded on all hands, while hisses were as liberally bestowed +upon his pursuers. + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_THE SHORT PIPE_ + + The Peons are capital horsemen, and several times we saw them, at a + gallop, throw the rein on the horse's neck, take from one pocket a + bag of loose tobacco, and, with a piece of paper, or a leaf of + Indian corn, make a cigar, and then take out a flint and steel and + light it. + + HEAD'S _Rough Notes_. + + +Away they fly past scattered cottages, swiftly and skimmingly, like +eagles on the wing, along the Enfield highway. All were well mounted, +and the horses, now thoroughly warmed, had got into their paces, and did +their work beautifully. None of Coates's party lost ground, but they +maintained it at the expense of their steeds, which were streaming like +water-carts, while Black Bess had scarcely turned a hair. + +Turpin, the reader already knows, was a crack rider; he was _the_ crack +rider of England of his time, and, perhaps, of any time. The craft and +mystery of jockeyship was not so well understood in the eighteenth as it +is in the nineteenth century; men treated their horses differently, and +few rode them as well as many ride now, when every youngster takes to +the field as naturally as if he had been bred a Guacho. Dick Turpin was +a glorious exception to the rule, and anticipated a later age. He rode +wonderfully lightly, yet sat his saddle to perfection, distributing the +weight so exquisitely that his horse scarcely felt his pressure; he +yielded to every movement made by the animal, and became, as it were, +part and parcel of itself; he took care Bess should be neither strained +nor wrung. Freely, and as lightly as a feather, was she borne along; +beautiful was it to see her action--to watch her style and temper of +covering the ground; and many a first-rate Meltonian might have got a +wrinkle from Turpin's seat and conduct. + +We have before stated that it was not Dick's object to _ride away_ from +his pursuers--he could have done that at any moment. He liked the fun of +the chase, and would have been sorry to put a period to his own +excitement. Confident in his mare, he just kept her at such speed as +should put his pursuers completely _to it_, without in the slightest +degree inconveniencing himself. Some judgment of the speed at which they +went may be formed, when we state that little better than an hour had +elapsed and nearly twenty miles had been ridden over. "Not bad +travelling that," methinks we hear the reader exclaim. + +"By the mother that bore me," said Titus, as they went along in this +slapping style--Titus, by-the-by, rode a big, Roman-nosed, powerful +horse, well adapted to his weight, but which required a plentiful +exercise both of leg and arm to call forth all his action, and keep his +rider alongside his companions--"by the mother that bore me," said he, +almost thumping the wind out of his flea-bitten Bucephalus with his +calves, after the Irish fashion, "if the fellow isn't lighting his pipe! +I saw the sparks fly on each side of him, and there he goes like a smoky +chimney on a frosty morning! See, he turns his impudent phiz, with the +pipe in his mouth! Are we to stand that, Mr. Coates?" + +"Wait awhile, sir--wait awhile," said Coates; "we'll smoke _him_ +by-and-by." + +Paeans have been sung in honor of the Peons of the Pampas by the +_Head_long Sir Francis; but what the gallant major extols so loudly in +the South American horsemen, viz., the lighting of a cigar when in mid +career, was accomplished with equal ease by our English highwayman a +hundred years ago, nor was it esteemed by him any extravagant feat +either. Flint, steel, and tinder were bestowed within Dick's ample +pouch, the short pipe was at hand, and within a few seconds there was a +stream of vapor exhaling from his lips, like the smoke from a steamboat +shooting down the river, and tracking his still rapid course through the +air. + +"I'll let 'em see what I think of 'em!" said Dick, coolly, as he turned +his head. + +It was now gray twilight. The mists of coming night were weaving a thin +curtain over the rich surrounding landscape. All the sounds and hum of +that delicious hour were heard, broken only by the regular clatter of +the horses' hoofs. Tired of shouting, the chasers now kept on their way +in deep silence; each man held his breath, and plunged his spurs, rowel +deep, into his horse; but the animals were already at the top of their +speed, and incapable of greater exertion. Paterson, who was a hard +rider, and perhaps a thought better mounted, kept the lead. The rest +followed as they might. + +Had it been undisturbed by the rush of the cavalcade, the scene would +have been still and soothing. Overhead a cloud of rooks were winging +their garrulous flight to the ancestral avenue of an ancient mansion to +the right; the bat was on the wing; the distant lowing of a herd of kine +saluted the ear at intervals; the blithe whistle of the rustic herdsman, +and the merry chime of waggon bells, rang pleasantly from afar. But +these cheerful sounds, which make the still twilight hour delightful, +were lost in the tramp of the horsemen, now three abreast. The hind fled +to the hedge for shelter, and the waggoner pricked up his ears, and +fancied he heard the distant rumbling of an earthquake. + +On rush the pack, whipping, spurring, tugging for very life. Again they +gave voice, in hopes the waggoner might succeed in stopping the +fugitive. But Dick was already by his side. "Harkee, my tulip," cried +he, taking the pipe from his mouth as he passed, "tell my friends behind +they will hear of me at York." + +"What did he say?" asked Paterson, coming up the next moment. + +"That you'll find him at York," replied the waggoner. + +"At York!" echoed Coates, in amaze. + +Turpin was now out of sight, and although our trio flogged with might +and main, they could never catch a glimpse of him until, within a short +distance of Ware, they beheld him at the door of a little public house, +standing with his bridle in his hand, coolly quaffing a tankard of ale. +No sooner were they in sight, than Dick vaulted into the saddle, and +rode off. + +"Devil seize you, sir! why didn't you stop him?" exclaimed Paterson, as +he rode up. "My horse is dead lame. I cannot go any further. Do you know +what a prize you have missed? Do you know who that was?" + +"No, sir, I don't," said the publican. "But I know he gave his mare more +ale than he took himself, and he has given me a guinea instead of a +shilling. He's a regular good 'un." + +"A good 'un!" said Paterson; "it was Turpin, the notorious highwayman. +We are in pursuit of him. Have you any horses? our cattle are all +blown." + +"You'll find the post-house in the town, gentlemen. I'm sorry I can't +accommodate you. But I keeps no stabling. I wish you a very good +evening, sir." Saying which, the publican retreated to his domicile. + +"That's a flash crib, I'll be bound," said Paterson. "I'll chalk you +down, my friend, you may rely upon it. Thus far we're done, Mr. Coates. +But curse me if I give it in. I'll follow him to the world's end first." + +"Right, sir--right," said the attorney. "A very proper spirit, Mr. +Constable. You would be guilty of neglecting your duty were you to act +otherwise. You must recollect my father, Mr. Paterson--Christopher, or +Kit Coates; a name as well known at the Old Bailey as Jonathan Wild's. +You recollect him--eh?" + +"Perfectly well, sir," replied the chief constable. + +"The greatest thief-taker, though I say it," continued Coates, "on +record. I inherit all his zeal--all his ardor. Come along, sir. We shall +have a fine moon in an hour--bright as day. To the post-house! to the +post-house!" + +Accordingly to the post-house they went; and, with as little delay as +circumstances admitted, fresh hacks being procured, accompanied by a +postilion, the party again pursued their onward course, encouraged to +believe they were still in the right scent. + +Night had now spread her mantle over the earth; still it was not wholly +dark. A few stars were twinkling in the deep, cloudless heavens, and a +pearly radiance in the eastern horizon heralded the rising of the orb of +night. A gentle breeze was stirring; the dews of evening had already +fallen; and the air felt bland and dry. It was just the night one would +have chosen for a ride, if one ever rode by choice at such an hour; and +to Turpin, whose chief excursions were conducted by night, it appeared +little less than heavenly. + +Full of ardor and excitement, determined to execute what he had mentally +undertaken, Turpin held on his solitary course. Everything was favorable +to his project; the roads were in admirable condition, his mare was in +like order; she was inured to hard work, had rested sufficiently in town +to recover from the fatigue of her recent journey, and had never been in +more perfect training. "She has now got her wind in her," said Dick; +"I'll see what she can do--hark away, lass--hark away! I wish they could +see her now," added he, as he felt her almost fly away with him. + +Encouraged by her master's voice and hand, Black Bess started forward at +a pace which few horses could have equalled, and scarcely any have +sustained so long. Even Dick, accustomed as he was to her magnificent +action, felt electrified at the speed with which he was borne along. +"Bravo! bravo!" shouted he, "hark away, Bess!" + +The deep and solemn woods through which they were rushing rang with his +shouts, and the sharp rattle of Bess's hoofs; and thus he held his way, +while, in the words of the ballad, + + Fled past, on right and left, how fast, + Each forest, grove, and bower; + On right and left, fled past, how fast, + Each city, town, and tower. + + + + +_CHAPTER VI_ + +_BLACK BESS_ + + _Dauphin._ I will not change my horse with any that treads but on + four pasterns. _Ca, ha!_ He bounds from the earth as if his entrails + were hairs; _le cheval volant_, the Pegasus _qui a les narines de + feu_! When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; + the earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is + more musical than the pipe of Hermes. + + SHAKESPEARE: _Henry V., Act III._ + + +Black Bess being undoubtedly the heroine of the Fourth Book of this +Romance, we may, perhaps, be pardoned for expatiating a little in this +place upon her birth, parentage, breeding, appearance, and attractions. +And first as to her pedigree; for in the horse, unlike the human +species, nature has strongly impressed the noble or ignoble caste. He is +the real aristocrat, and the pure blood that flows in the veins of the +gallant steed will infallibly be transmitted, if his mate be suitable, +throughout all his line. Bess was no _cock-tail_. She was thorough-bred; +she boasted blood in every bright and branching vein: + + If blood can give nobility, + A noble steed was she; + Her sire was blood, and blood her dam, + And all her pedigree. + +As to her pedigree. Her sire was a desert Arab, renowned in his day, and +brought to this country by a wealthy traveller; her dam was an English +racer, coal-black as her child. Bess united all the fire and gentleness, +the strength and hardihood, the abstinence and endurance of fatigue of +the one, with the spirit and extraordinary fleetness of the other. How +Turpin became possessed of her is of little consequence. We never heard +that he paid a heavy price for her; though we doubt if any sum would +have induced him to part with her. In color, she was perfectly black, +with a skin smooth on the surface as polished jet; not a single white +hair could be detected in her satin coat. In make she was magnificent. +Every point was perfect, beautiful, compact; modelled, in little, for +strength and speed. Arched was her neck, as that of the swan; clean and +fine were her lower limbs, as those of the gazelle; round and sound as a +drum was her carcase, and as broad as a cloth-yard shaft her width of +chest. Hers were the "_pulchrae clunes, breve caput, arduaque cervix_," +of the Roman bard. There was no redundancy of flesh, 'tis true; her +flanks might, to please some tastes, have been rounder, and her +shoulders fuller; but look at the nerve and sinew, palpable through the +veined limbs! She was built more for strength than beauty, and yet she +_was_ beautiful. Look at that elegant little head; those thin, tapering +ears, closely placed together; that broad, snorting nostril, which seems +to snuff the gale with disdain; that eye, glowing and large as the +diamond of Giamschid! Is she not beautiful? Behold her paces! how +gracefully she moves! She is off!--no eagle on the wing could skim the +air more swiftly. Is she not superb? As to her temper, the lamb is not +more gentle. A child might guide her. + +But hark back to Dick Turpin. We left him rattling along in superb +style, and in the highest possible glee. He could not, in fact, be +otherwise than exhilarated; nothing being so wildly intoxicating as a +mad gallop. We seem to start out of ourselves--to be endued, for the +time, with new energies. Our thoughts take wings rapid as our steed. We +feel as if his fleetness and boundless impulses were for the moment our +own. We laugh; we exult; we shout for very joy. We cry out with +Mephistopheles, but in anything but a sardonic mood, "What I enjoy with +spirit, is it the less my own on that account? If I can pay for six +horses, are not their powers mine! I drive along, and am a proper man, +as if I had four-and-twenty legs!" These were Turpin's sentiments +precisely. Give him four legs and a wide plain, and he needed no +Mephistopheles to bid him ride to perdition as fast as his nag could +carry him. Away, away!--the road is level, the path is clear. Press on, +thou gallant steed, no obstacle is in thy way!--and, lo! the moon breaks +forth! Her silvery light is thrown over the woody landscape. Dark +shadows are cast athwart the road, and the flying figures of thy rider +and thyself are traced, like giant phantoms, in the dust! + +Away, away! our breath is gone in keeping up with this tremendous run. +Yet Dick Turpin has not lost his wind, for we hear his cheering +cry--hark! he sings. The reader will bear in mind that Oliver means the +moon--to "whiddle" is to blab. + + OLIVER WHIDDLES! + + Oliver whiddles--the tattler old! + Telling what best had been left untold. + Oliver ne'er was a friend of mine; + All glims I hate that so brightly shine. + Give me a night black as hell, and then + See what I'll show to you, my merry men. + + Oliver whiddles!--who cares--who cares, + If down upon us he peers and stares? + Mind him who will, with his great white face, + Boldly _I'll_ ride by his glim to the chase; + Give him a Rowland, and loudly as ever + Shout, as I show myself, "Stand and deliver!" + +"Egad," soliloquized Dick, as he concluded his song, looking up at the +moon. "Old Noll's no bad fellow, either. I wouldn't be without his white +face to-night for a trifle. He's as good as a lamp to guide one, and let +Bess only hold on as she goes now, and I'll do it with ease. Softly, +wench, softly--dost not see it's a hill we're rising. The devil's in the +mare, she cares for nothing." And as they ascended the hill, Dick's +voice once more awoke the echoes of night. + + + WILL DAVIES AND DICK TURPIN + + Hodie mihi, cras tibi.--SAINT AUGUSTIN. + + One night, when mounted on my mare, + To Bagshot Heath I did repair, + And saw Will Davies hanging there, + Upon the gibbet bleak and bare, + _With a rustified, fustified, mustified air!_ + + Within his chains bold Will looked blue, + Gone were his sword and snappers too, + Which served their master well and true; + Says I, "Will Davies, how are you? + _With your rustified, fustified, mustified air!_" + + Says he, "Dick Turpin, here I be, + Upon the gibbet, as you see; + I take the matter easily; + _You'll_ have your turn as well as me, + _With your whistle-me, pistol-me, cut-my-throat air!_" + + Says I, "That's very true, my lad; + Meantime, with pistol and with prad, + I'm quite contented as I am, + And heed the gibbet not a d--n! + _With its rustified, fustified, mustified air!_" + +"Poor Will Davies!" sighed Dick; "Bagshot ought never to forget +him."[110] + + For never more shall Bagshot see + A highwayman of such degree, + Appearance, and gentility, + As Will, who hangs upon the tree, + _With his rustified, fustified, mustified air!_ + +"Well," mused Turpin, "I suppose one day it will be with me like all the +rest of 'em, and that I shall dance a long lavolta to the music of the +four whistling winds, as my betters have done before me; but I trust, +whenever the chanter-culls and last-speech scribblers get hold of me, +they'll at least put no cursed nonsense into my mouth, but make me +speak, as I have ever felt, like a man who never either feared death, or +turned his back upon his friend. In the mean time I'll give them +something to talk about. This ride of mine shall ring in their ears long +after I'm done for--put to bed with a mattock, and tucked up with a +spade. + + And when I am gone, boys, each huntsman shall say, + None rode like Dick Turpin, so far in a day. + +And thou, too, brave Bess!--thy name shall be linked with mine, and +we'll go down to posterity together; and what," added he, despondingly, +"if it should be too much for thee? what if----but no matter! Better die +now, while I am with thee, than fall into the knacker's hands. Better +die with all thy honors upon thy head, than drag out thy old age at the +sand-cart. Hark forward, lass--hark forward!" + +By what peculiar instinct is it that this noble animal, the horse, will +at once perceive the slightest change in his rider's physical +temperament, and allow himself so to be influenced by it, that, +according as his master's spirits fluctuate, will his own energies rise +and fall, wavering + + From walk to trot, from canter to full speed? + +How is it, we ask of those more intimately acquainted with the +metaphysics of the Houyhnhnm than we pretend to be? Do the saddle or +the rein convey, like metallic tractors, vibrations of the spirit +betwixt the two? We know not, but this much is certain, that no servant +partakes so much of the character of his master as the horse. The steed +we are wont to ride becomes a portion of ourselves. He thinks and feels +with us. As we are lively, he is sprightly; as we are depressed, his +courage droops. In proof of this, let the reader see what horses some +men make--_make_, we say, because in such hands their character is +wholly altered. Partaking, in a measure, of the courage and the firmness +of the hand that guides them, and of the resolution of the frame that +sways them--what their rider wills, they do, or strive to do. When that +governing power is relaxed, their energies are relaxed likewise; and +their fine sensibilities supply them with an instant knowledge of the +disposition and capacity of the rider. A gift of the gods is the gallant +steed, which, like any other faculty we possess, to use or to abuse--to +command or to neglect--rests with ourselves; he is the best general test +of our own self-government. + +Black Bess's action amply verified what we have just asserted; for +during Turpin's momentary despondency, her pace was perceptibly +diminished and her force retarded; but as he revived, she rallied +instantly, and, seized apparently with a kindred enthusiasm, snorted +joyously as she recovered her speed. Now was it that the child of the +desert showed herself the undoubted offspring of the hardy loins from +whence she sprung. Full fifty miles had she sped, yet she showed no +symptoms of distress. If possible, she appeared fresher than when she +started. She had breathed; her limbs were suppler; her action was freer, +easier, lighter. Her sire, who, upon his trackless wilds, could have +outstripped the pestilent simoom; and with throat unslaked, and hunger +unappeased, could thrice have seen the scorching sun go down, had not +greater powers of endurance. His vigor was her heritage. Her dam, who +upon the velvet sod was of almost unapproachable swiftness, and who had +often brought her owner golden assurances of her worth, could scarce +have kept pace with her, and would have sunk under a third of her +fatigue. But Bess was a paragon. We ne'er shall look upon her like +again, unless we can prevail upon some Bedouin chief to present us with +a brood mare, and then the racing world shall see what a breed we will +introduce into this country. Eclipse, Childers, or Hambletonian, shall +be nothing to our colts, and even the railroad slow travelling, compared +with the speed of our new nags! + +But to return to Bess, or rather to go along with her, for there is no +halting now; we are going at the rate of twenty knots an hour--sailing +before the wind; and the reader must either keep pace with us, or drop +astern. Bess is now in her speed, and Dick happy. Happy! he is +enraptured--maddened--furious--intoxicated as with wine. Pshaw! wine +could never throw him into such a burning delirium. Its choicest juices +have no inspiration like this. Its fumes are slow and heady. This is +ethereal, transporting. His blood spins through his veins; winds round +his heart; mounts to his brain. Away! away! He is wild with joy. Hall, +cot, tree, tower, glade, mead, waste, or woodland, are seen, passed, +left behind, and vanish as in a dream. Motion is scarcely +perceptible--it is impetus! volition! The horse and her rider are driven +forward, as it were, by self-accelerated speed. A hamlet is visible in +the moonlight. It is scarcely discovered ere the flints sparkle beneath +the mare's hoofs. A moment's clatter upon the stones, and it is left +behind. Again it is the silent, smiling country. Now they are buried in +the darkness of woods; now sweeping along on the wide plain; now +clearing the unopened toll-bar; now trampling over the hollow-sounding +bridge, their shadows momently reflected in the placid mirror of the +stream; now scaling the hill-side a thought more slowly; now plunging, +as the horses of Ph[oe]bus into the ocean, down its precipitous sides. + +The limits of two shires are already past. They are within the confines +of a third. They have entered the merry county of Huntingdon; they have +surmounted the gentle hill that slips into Godmanchester. They are by +the banks of the rapid Ouse. The bridge is past; and as Turpin rode +through the deserted streets of Huntingdon, he heard the eleventh hour +given from the iron tongue of St. Mary's spire. In four hours--it was +about seven when he started--Dick had accomplished full sixty miles! + +A few reeling topers in the streets saw the horseman flit past, and one +or two windows were thrown open; but Peeping Tom of Coventry would have +had small chance of beholding the unveiled beauties of Queen Godiva had +she ridden at the rate of Dick Turpin. He was gone, like a meteor, +almost as soon as he appeared. + +Huntingdon is left behind, and he is once more surrounded by dew-gemmed +hedges and silent slumbering trees. Broad meadows, or pasture land, with +drowsy cattle, or low bleating sheep, lie on either side. But what to +Turpin, at that moment, is nature, animate or inanimate? He thinks only +of his mare--his future fame. None are by to see him ride; no +stimulating plaudits ring in his ears; no thousand hands are clapping; +no thousand voices huzzaing; no handkerchiefs are waved; no necks +strained; no bright eyes rain influence upon him; no eagle orbs watch +his motions; no bells are rung; no cup awaits his achievement; no +sweepstakes--no plate. But his will be renown--everlasting renown; his +will be fame which will not die with him--which will keep his +reputation, albeit a tarnished one, still in the mouths of men. He wants +all these adventitious excitements, but he has that within which is a +greater excitement than all these. He is conscious that he is doing a +deed to live by. If not riding for _life_, he is riding for +_immortality_; and as the hero may perchance feel--for even a highwayman +may feel like a hero,--when he willingly throws away his existence in +the hope of earning a glorious name, Turpin cared not what might befall +himself, so he could proudly signalize himself as the first of his land, + + _And witch the world with noble horsemanship!_ + +What need had he of spectators? The eye of posterity was upon him; he +felt the influence of that Argus glance which has made many a poor wight +spur on his Pegasus with not half so good a chance of reaching the goal +as Dick Turpin. Multitudes, yet unborn, he knew would hear and laud his +deeds. He trembled with excitement, and Bess trembled under him. But the +emotion was transient. On, on they fly! The torrent leaping from the +crag--the bolt from the bow--the air-cleaving eagle--thoughts themselves +are scarce more winged in their flight! + + + + +_CHAPTER VII_ + +_THE YORK STAGE_ + + YORK, FOUR DAYS!--_Stage Coach begins on Friday, the 18th of April, + 1706._ All that are desirous to pass from London to York, or from + York to London, or any other place on that road, let them repair to + the Black Swan, in Holborn, in London, or to the Black Swan, in + Coney Street, in York. At both which places they may be received in + a _Stage Coach_, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, which performs + the journey in four days--if God permits!--and sets forth at five in + the morning. And returns from York to Stamford in two days, and from + Stamford, by Huntingdon, in two days more. And the like stages in + their return. Allowing each passenger fourteen pounds' weight, and + all above, three pence per pound. Performed by Benjamin Kingman, + Henry Harrison, and Waller Baynes.--_Placard, preserved in the + coffee-room, of the Black Swan Inn at York._ + + +The night had hitherto been balmy and beautiful, with a bright array of +stars, and a golden harvest moon, which seemed to diffuse even warmth +with its radiance; but now Turpin was approaching the region of fog and +fen, and he began to feel the influence of that dank atmosphere. The +intersecting dykes, yawners, gullies, or whatever they are called, began +to send forth their steaming vapors, and chilled the soft and wholesome +air, obscuring the void, and in some instances, as it were, choking up +the road itself with vapor. But fog or fen was the same to Bess; her +hoofs rattled merrily along the road, and she burst from a cloud, like +Eoeus at the break of dawn. + +It chanced, as he issued from a fog of this kind, that Turpin burst upon +the York stage coach. It was no uncommon thing for the coach to be +stopped; and so furious was the career of our highwayman, that the man +involuntarily drew up his horses. Turpin had also to draw in the rein, a +task of no little difficulty, as charging a huge, lumbering coach, with +its full complement of passengers, was more than even Bess could +accomplish. The moon shone brightly on Turpin and his mare. He was +unmasked, and his features were distinctly visible. An exclamation was +uttered by a gentleman on the box, who, it appeared, instantly +recognized him. + +"Pull up--draw your horses across the road!" cried the gentleman; +"that's Dick Turpin, the highwayman. His capture would be worth three +hundred pounds to you," added he, addressing the coachman, "and is of +equal importance to me. Stand!" shouted he, presenting a cocked pistol. + +This resolution of the gentleman was not apparently agreeable, either to +the coachman or the majority of the passengers--the name of Turpin +acting like magic upon them. One man jumped off behind, and was with +difficulty afterwards recovered, having tumbled into a deep ditch at the +roadside. An old gentleman with a cotton nightcap, who had popped out +his head to swear at the coachman, drew it suddenly back. A faint scream +in a female key issued from within, and there was a considerable hubbub +on the roof. Amongst other ominous sounds, the guard was heard to click +his long horse-pistols. "Stop the York four-day stage!" said he, forcing +his smoky voice through a world of throat-embracing shawl; "the fastest +coach in the kingdom: vos ever such atrocity heard of? I say, Joe, keep +them ere leaders steady; we shall all be in the ditch. Don't you see +where the hind wheels are? Who--whoop, I say." + +The gentleman on the box now discharged his pistol, and the confusion +within was redoubled. The white nightcap was popped out like a rabbit's +head, and as quickly popped back on hearing the highwayman's voice. +Owing to the plunging of the horses, the gentleman had missed his aim. + +Prepared for such emergencies as the present, and seldom at any time +taken aback, Dick received the fire without flinching. He then lashed +the horses out of his course, and rode up, pistol in hand, to the +gentleman who had fired. + +"Major Mowbray," said he, in a stern tone, "I know you. I meant not +either to assault you or these gentlemen. Yet you have attempted my +life, sir, a second time. But you are now in my power, and by hell! if +you do not answer the questions I put to you, nothing earthly shall save +you." + +"If you ask aught I may not answer, fire!" said the major; "I will never +ask life from such as you." + +"Have you seen aught of Sir Luke Rookwood?" asked Dick. + +"The villain you mean is not yet secured," replied the major, "but we +have traces of him. 'Tis with a view of procuring more efficient +assistance that I ride to town." + +"They have not met then, since?" said Dick, carelessly. + +"Met! whom do you mean?" + +"Your sister and Sir Luke," said Dick. + +"My sister meet him!" cried the major, angrily--"think you he dares show +himself at Rookwood?" + +"Ho! ho!" laughed Dick--"she _is_ at Rookwood, then? A thousand thanks, +major. Good night to you, gentlemen." + +"Take that with you, and remember the guard," cried the fellow, who, +unable to take aim from where he sat, had crept along the coach roof, +and discharged thence one of his large horse-pistols at what he took to +be the highwayman's head, but which, luckily for Dick, was his hat, +which he had raised to salute the passengers. + +"Remember you," said Dick, coolly replacing his perforated beaver on his +brow; "you may rely upon it, my fine fellow, I'll not forget you the +next time we meet." + +And off he went like the breath of the whirlwind. + + + + +_CHAPTER VIII_ + +_ROADSIDE INN_ + + _Moor._ Take my horse, and dash a bottle of wine over him. 'Twas hot + work. + + SCHILLER: _The Robbers_. + + +We will now make inquiries after Mr. Coates and his party, of whom both +we and Dick Turpin have for some time lost sight. With unabated ardor +the vindictive man of law and his myrmidons pressed forward. A tacit +compact seemed to have been entered into between the highwayman and his +pursuers, that he was to fly while they were to follow. Like +bloodhounds, they kept steadily upon his trail; nor were they so far +behind as Dick imagined. At each post-house they passed they obtained +fresh horses, and, while these were saddling, a postboy was despatched +_en courrier_ to order relays at the next station. In this manner they +proceeded after the first stoppage without interruption. Horses were in +waiting for them, as they, "bloody with spurring, fiery hot with haste," +and their jaded hacks arrived. Turpin had been heard or seen in all +quarters. Turnpike-men, waggoners, carters, trampers, all had seen him. +Besides, strange as it may sound, they placed some faith in his word. +York they believed would be his destination. + +At length the coach which Dick had encountered hove in sight. There was +another stoppage and another hubbub. The old gentleman's nightcap was +again manifested, and suffered a sudden occultation, as upon the former +occasion. The postboy, who was in advance, had halted, and given up his +horse to Major Mowbray, who exchanged his seat on the box for one on the +saddle, deeming it more expedient, after his interview with Turpin, to +return to Rookwood, rather than to proceed to town. The postboy was +placed behind Coates, as being the lightest weight; and, thus +reinforced, the party pushed forward as rapidly as heretofore. + +Eighty and odd miles had now been traversed--the boundary of another +county, Northampton, passed; yet no rest nor respite had Dick Turpin or +his unflinching mare enjoyed. But here he deemed it fitting to make a +brief halt. + +Bordering the beautiful domains of Burleigh House stood a little retired +hostelry of some antiquity, which bore the great Lord Treasurer's arms. +With this house Dick was not altogether unacquainted. The lad who acted +as ostler was known to him. It was now midnight, but a bright and +beaming night. To the door of the stable then did he ride, and knocked +in a peculiar manner. Reconnoitering Dick through a broken pane of glass +in the lintel, and apparently satisfied with his scrutiny, the lad +thrust forth a head of hair as full of straw as Mad Tom's is represented +to be upon the stage. A chuckle of welcome followed his sleepy +salutation. "Glad to see you, Captain Turpin," said he; "can I do +anything for you?" + +"Get me a couple of bottles of brandy and a beefsteak," said Dick. + +"As to the brandy, you can have that in a jiffy--but the steak, Lord +love you, the old ooman won't stand it at this time; but there's a cold +round, mayhap a slice of that might do--or a knuckle of ham?" + +"A pest on your knuckles, Ralph," cried Dick; "have you any raw meat in +the house?" + +"Raw meat!" echoed Ralph, in surprise. "Oh, yes, there's a rare rump of +beef. You can have a cut off that, if you like." + +"That's the thing I want," said Dick, ungirthing his mare. "Give me the +scraper. There, I can get a whisp of straw from your head. Now run and +get the brandy. Better bring three bottles. Uncork 'em, and let me have +half a pail of water to mix with the spirit." + +"A pail full of brandy and water to wash down a raw steak! My eyes!" +exclaimed Ralph, opening wide his sleepy peepers; adding, as he went +about the execution of his task, "I always thought them Rum-padders, as +they call themselves, rum fellows, but now I'm sartin sure on it." + +The most sedulous groom could not have bestowed more attention upon the +horse of his heart than Dick Turpin now paid to his mare. He scraped, +chafed, and dried her, sounded each muscle, traced each sinew, pulled +her ears, examined the state of her feet, and, ascertaining that her +"withers were un-wrung," finally washed her from head to foot in the +diluted spirit, not, however, before he had conveyed a thimbleful of the +liquid to his own parched throat, and replenished what Falstaff calls a +"pocket-pistol," which he had about him. While Ralph was engaged in +rubbing her down after her bath, Dick occupied himself, not in dressing +the raw steak in the manner the stable-boy had anticipated, but in +rolling it round the bit of his bridle. + +"She will now go as long as there's breath in her body," said he, +putting the flesh-covered iron within her mouth. + +The saddle being once more replaced, after champing a moment or two at +the bit, Bess began to snort and paw the earth, as if impatient of +delay; and, acquainted as he was with her indomitable spirit and power, +her condition was a surprise even to Dick himself. Her vigor seemed +inexhaustible, her vivacity was not a whit diminished, but, as she was +led into the open space, her step became as light and free as when she +started on her ride, and her sense of sound as quick as ever. Suddenly +she pricked her ears, and uttered a low neigh. A dull tramp was +audible. + +"Ha!" exclaimed Dick, springing into his saddle; "they come." + +"Who come, captain?" asked Ralph. + +"The road takes a turn here, don't it?" asked Dick--"sweeps round to the +right by the plantations in the hollow?" + +"Ay, ay, captain," answered Ralph; "it's plain you knows the ground." + +"What lies behind yon shed?" + +"A stiff fence, captain--a reg'lar rasper. Beyond that a hill-side steep +as a house, no oss as was ever shoed can go down it." + +"Indeed!" laughed Dick. + +A loud halloo from Major Mowbray, who seemed advancing upon the wings of +the wind, told Dick that he was discovered. The major was a superb +horseman, and took the lead of his party. Striking his spurs deeply into +his horse, and giving him bridle enough, the major seemed to shoot +forward like a shell through the air. The Burleigh Arms retired some +hundred yards from the road, the space in front being occupied by a neat +garden, with low, clipped edges. No tall timber intervened between Dick +and his pursuers, so that the motions of both parties were visible to +each other. Dick saw in an instant that if he now started he should come +into collision with the major exactly at the angle of the road, and he +was by no means desirous of hazarding such a rencontre. He looked +wistfully back at the double fence. + +"Come into the stable. Quick, captain, quick!" exclaimed Ralph. + +"The stable!" echoed Dick, hesitating. + +"Ay, the stable; it's your only chance. Don't you see he's turning the +corner, and they are all coming? Quick, sir, quick!" + +Dick, lowering his head, rode into the tenement, the door of which was +unceremoniously slapped in the major's face, and bolted on the other +side. + +"Villain!" cried Major Mowbray, thundering at the door, "come forth! You +are now fairly trapped at last--caught like the woodcock in your own +springe. We have you. Open the door, I say, and save us the trouble of +forcing it. You cannot escape us. We will burn the building down but we +will have you." + +"What dun you want, measter?" cried Ralph, from the lintel, whence he +reconnoitered the major, and kept the door fast. "You're clean mista'en. +There be none here." + +"We'll soon see that," said Paterson, who had now arrived; and, leaping +from his horse, the chief constable took a short run to give himself +impetus, and with his foot burst open the door. This being accomplished, +in dashed the major and Paterson, but the stable was vacant. A door was +open at the back; they rushed to it. The sharply sloping sides of a hill +slipped abruptly downwards, within a yard of the door. It was a perilous +descent to the horseman, yet the print of a horse's heels were visible +in the dislodged turf and scattered soil. + +"Confusion!" cried the major, "he has escaped us." + +"He is yonder," said Paterson, pointing out Turpin moving swiftly +through the steaming meadow. "See, he makes again for the road--he +clears the fence. A regular throw he has given us, by the Lord!" + +"Nobly done, by Heaven!" cried the major. "With all his faults, I honor +the fellow's courage and admire his prowess. He's already ridden +to-night as I believe never man rode before. I would not have ventured +to slide down that wall, for it's nothing else, with the enemy at my +heels. What say you, gentlemen, have you had enough? Shall we let him +go, or----?" + +"As far as chase goes, I don't care if we bring the matter to a +conclusion," said Titus. "I don't think, as it is, that I shall have a +sate to sit on this week to come. I've lost leather most confoundedly." + +"What says Mr. Coates?" asked Paterson. "I look to him." + +"Then mount, and off," cried Coates. "Public duty requires that we +should take him." + +"And private pique," returned the major. "No matter! The end is the +same. Justice shall be satisfied. To your steeds, my merry men all. +Hark, and away." + +Once more upon the move, Titus forgot his distress, and addressed +himself to the attorney, by whose side he rode. + +"What place is that we're coming to?" asked he, pointing to a cluster of +moonlit spires belonging to a town they were rapidly approaching. + +"Stamford," replied Coates. + +"Stamford!" exclaimed Titus; "by the powers! then we've ridden a matter +of ninety miles. Why, the great deeds of Redmond O'Hanlon were nothing +to this! I'll remember it to my dying day, and with reason," added he, +uneasily shifting his position on the saddle. + + + + +_CHAPTER IX_ + +_EXCITEMENT_ + + How fled what moonshine faintly showed! + How fled what darkness hid! + How fled the earth beneath their feet, + The heaven above their head. + + _William and Helen._ + + +Dick Turpin, meanwhile, held bravely on his course. Bess was neither +strained by her gliding passage down the slippery hill-side nor shaken +by _larking_ the fence in the meadow. As Dick said, "It took a devilish +deal to take it out of her." On regaining the high road she resumed her +old pace, and once more they were distancing Time's swift chariot in +its whirling passage o'er the earth. Stamford, and the tongue of +Lincoln's fenny shire, upon which it is situated, were passed almost in +a breath. Rutland is won and passed, and Lincolnshire once more entered. +The road now verged within a bowshot of that sporting Athens--Corinth, +perhaps, we should say--Melton Mowbray. Melton was then unknown to fame, +but, as if inspired by that _furor venaticus_ which now inspires all who +come within twenty miles of this Charybdis of the chase, Bess here _let +out_ in a style with which it would have puzzled the best Leicestershire +squire's best prad to have kept pace. The spirit she imbibed through the +pores of her skin, and the juices of the meat she had champed, seemed to +have communicated preternatural excitement to her. Her pace was +absolutely terrific. Her eyeballs were dilated, and glowed like flaming +carbuncles; while her widely-distended nostril seemed, in the cold +moonshine, to snort forth smoke, as from a hidden fire. Fain would +Turpin have controlled her; but, without bringing into play all his +tremendous nerve, no check could be given her headlong course, and for +once, and the only time in her submissive career, Bess resolved to have +her own way--and she had it. Like a sensible fellow, Dick conceded the +point. There was something even of conjugal philosophy in his +self-communion upon the occasion. "E'en let her take her own way and be +hanged to her, for an obstinate, self-willed jade as she is," said he: +"now her back is up there'll be no stopping her, I'm sure: she rattles +away like a woman's tongue, and when that once begins, we all know what +chance the curb has. Best to let her have it out, or rather to lend her +a lift. 'Twill be over the sooner. Tantivy, lass! tantivy! I know which +of us will tire first." + +We have before said that the vehement excitement of continued swift +riding produces a paroxysm in the sensorium amounting to delirium. +Dick's blood was again on fire. He was first giddy, as after a deep +draught of kindling spirit; this passed off, but the spirit was still +in his veins--the _estro_ was working in his brain. All his ardor, his +eagerness, his fury, returned. He rode like one insane, and his courser +partook of his frenzy. She bounded; she leaped; she tore up the ground +beneath her; while Dick gave vent to his exultation in one wild, +prolonged halloo. More than half his race is run. He has triumphed over +every difficulty. He will have no further occasion to halt. Bess carries +her forage along with her. The course is straightforward--success seems +certain--the goal already reached--the path of glory won. Another wild +halloo, to which the echoing woods reply, and away! + +Away! away! thou matchless steed! yet brace fast thy sinews--hold, hold +thy breath, for, alas! the goal is not yet attained! + + But forward! forward, on they go, + High snorts the straining steed, + Thick pants the rider's laboring breath, + As headlong on they speed! + + + + +_CHAPTER X_ + +_THE GIBBET_ + + See there, see there, what yonder swings + And creaks 'mid whistling rain, + Gibbet and steel--the accursed wheel-- + A murderer in his chain. + + _William and Helen._ + + +As the eddying currents sweep over its plains in howling, bleak +December, the horse and her rider passed over what remained of +Lincolnshire. Grantham is gone, and they are now more slowly looking up +the ascent of Gonerby Hill, a path well known to Turpin; where often, in +bygone nights, many a purse had changed its owner. With that feeling of +independence and exhilaration which every one feels, we believe, on +having climbed the hill-side, Turpin turned to gaze around. There was +triumph in his eye. But the triumph was checked as his glance fell upon +a gibbet near him to the right, on the round point of hill which is a +landmark to the wide vale of Belvoir. Pressed as he was for time, Dick +immediately struck out of the road, and approached the spot where it +stood. Two scarecrow objects, covered with rags and rusty links of +chains, depended from the tree. A night crow screaming around the +carcases added to the hideous effect of the scene. Nothing but the +living highwayman and his skeleton brethren was visible upon the +solitary spot. Around him was the lonesome waste of hill, o'erlooking +the moonlit valley: beneath his feet, a patch of bare and +lightning-blasted sod: above, the wan, declining moon and skies, flaked +with ghostly clouds; before him, the bleached bodies of the murderers, +for such they were. + +"Will this be my lot, I marvel?" said Dick, looking upwards, with an +involuntary shudder. + +"Ay, marry will it," rejoined a crouching figure, suddenly springing +from beside a tuft of briars that skirted the blasted ground. + +Dick started in his saddle, while Bess reared and plunged at the sight +of this unexpected apparition. + +"What, ho! thou devil's dam, Barbara, is it thou?" exclaimed Dick, +reassured upon discovering it was the gipsy queen, and no spectre whom +he beheld. "Stand still, Bess--stand, lass. What dost thou here, mother +of darkness? Art gathering mandrakes for thy poisonous messes, or +pilfering flesh from the dead? Meddle not with their bones, or I will +drive thee hence. What dost thou here, I say, old dam of the gibbet?" + +"I came to die here," replied Barbara, in a feeble tone; and, throwing +back her hood, she displayed features well-nigh as ghastly as those of +the skeletons above her. + +"Indeed," replied Dick. "You've made choice of a pleasant spot, it must +be owned. But you'll not die yet?" + +"Do you know whose bodies these are?" asked Barbara, pointing upwards. + +"Two of your race," replied Dick; "right brethren of the blade." + +"Two of my sons," returned Barbara; "my twin children. I am come to lay +my bones beneath their bones--my sepulchre shall be their sepulchre; my +body shall feed the fowls of the air as theirs have fed them. And if +ghosts can walk, we'll scour this heath together. I tell you what, Dick +Turpin," said the hag, drawing as near to the highwayman as Bess would +permit her; "dead men walk and ride--ay, _ride_!--there's a comfort for +you. I've seen these do it. I have seen them fling off their chains, and +dance--ay, dance with me--with their mother. No revels like dead men's +revels, Dick. I shall soon join 'em." + +"You will not lay violent hands upon yourself, mother?" said Dick, with +difficulty mastering his terror. + +"No," replied Barbara, in an altered tone. "But I will let nature do her +task. Would she could do it more quickly. Such a life as mine won't go +out without a long struggle. What have I to live for now? All are +gone--she and her child! But what is this to you? You have no child; and +if you had, you could not feel like a father. No matter--I rave. Listen +to me. I have crawled hither to die. 'Tis five days since I beheld you, +and during that time food has not passed these lips, nor aught of +moisture, save Heaven's dew, cooled this parched throat, nor shall they +to the last. That time cannot be far off; and now can you not guess +_how_ I mean to die? Begone and leave me; your presence troubles me. I +would breathe my last breath alone, with none to witness the parting +pang." + +"I will not trouble you longer, mother," said Dick, turning his mare; +"nor will I ask your blessing." + +"My blessing!" scornfully ejaculated Barbara. "You shall have it if you +will, but you will find it a curse. Stay! a thought strikes me. Whither +are you going?" + +"To seek Sir Luke Rookwood," replied Dick. "Know you aught of him?" + +"Sir Luke Rookwood! You seek him, and would find him?" screamed Barbara. + +"I would," said Dick. + +"And you _will_ find him," said Barbara; "and that ere long. I shall +ne'er again behold him. Would I could. I have a message for him--one of +life and death. Will you convey it to him?" + +"I will," said the highwayman. + +"Swear by those bones to do so," cried Barbara, pointing with her skinny +fingers to the gibbet; "that you will do my bidding." + +"I swear," cried Dick. + +"Fail not, or _we_ will haunt thee to thy life's end," cried Barbara; +adding, as she handed a sealed package to the highwayman, "Give this to +Sir Luke--to him alone. I would have sent it to him by other hands ere +this, but my people have deserted me--have pillaged my stores--have +rifled me of all save this. Give this, I say, to Sir Luke, with your own +hands. You have sworn it, and will obey. Give it to him, and bid him +think of Sybil as he opens it. But this must not be till Eleanor is in +his power; and she must be present when the seal is broken. It relates +to both. Dare not to tamper with it, or my curse shall pursue you. That +packet is guarded with a triple spell, which to you were fatal. Obey me, +and my dying breath shall bless thee." + +"Never fear," said Dick, taking the packet; "I'll not disappoint you, +mother, depend upon it." + +"Hence!" cried the crone; and as she watched Dick's figure lessening +upon the Waste, and at length beheld him finally disappear down the +hill-side, she sank to the ground, her frail strength being entirely +exhausted. "Body and soul may now part in peace," gasped she. "All I +live for is accomplished." And ere one hour had elapsed, the night crow +was perched upon her still breathing frame. + +Long pondering upon this singular interview, Dick pursued his way. At +length he thought fit to examine the packet with which the old gipsy had +entrusted him. + +"It feels like a casket," thought he. "It can't be gold. But then it may +be jewels, though they don't rattle, and it ain't quite heavy enough. +What can it be? I should like to know. There is some mystery, that's +certain, about it; but I will not break the seal, not I. As to her +spell, that I don't value a rush; but I've sworn to give it to Sir Luke, +and deliver her message, and I'll keep my word if I can. He shall have +it." So saying, he replaced it in his pocket. + + + + +_CHAPTER XI_ + +_THE PHANTOM STEED_ + + I'll speak to thee, though hell itself should gape, + And bid me hold my peace. + + _Hamlet._ + + +Time presses. We may not linger in our course. We must fly on before our +flying highwayman. Full forty miles shall we pass over in a breath. Two +more hours have elapsed, and he still urges his headlong career, with +heart resolute as ever, and purpose yet unchanged. Fair Newark, and the +dashing Trent, "most loved of England's streams," are gathered to his +laurels. Broad Notts, and its heavy paths and sweeping glades; its +waste--forest no more--of Sherwood past; bold Robin Hood and his merry +men, his Marian and his moonlight rides, recalled, forgotten, left +behind. Hurrah! hurrah! That wild halloo, that waving arm, that +enlivening shout--what means it? He is once more upon Yorkshire ground; +his horse's hoof beats once more the soil of that noble shire. So +transported was Dick, that he could almost have flung himself from the +saddle to kiss the dust beneath his feet. Thrice fifty miles has he run, +nor has the morn yet dawned upon his labors. Hurrah! the end draws nigh; +the goal is in view. Halloo! halloo! on! + +Bawtrey is past. He takes the lower road by Thorne and Selby. He is +skirting the waters of the deep-channelled Don. + +Bess now began to manifest some slight symptoms of distress. There was a +strain in the carriage of her throat, a dulness in her eye, a laxity in +her ear, and a slight stagger in her gait, which Turpin noticed with +apprehension. Still she went on, though not at the same gallant pace as +heretofore. But, as the tired bird still battles with the blast upon the +ocean, as the swimmer still stems the stream, though spent, on went she: +nor did Turpin dare to check her, fearing that, if she stopped, she +might lose her force, or, if she fell, she would rise no more. + +It was now that gray and grimly hour ere one flicker of orange or rose +has gemmed the east, and when unwearying Nature herself seems to snatch +brief repose. In the roar of restless cities, this is the only time when +their strife is hushed. Midnight is awake--alive; the streets ring with +laughter and with rattling wheels. At the third hour, a dead, deep +silence prevails; the loud-voiced streets grow dumb. They are deserted +of all, save the few guardians of the night and the skulking robber. But +even far removed from the haunts of men and hum of towns it is the same. +"Nature's best nurse" seems to weigh nature down, and stillness reigns +throughout. Our feelings are, in a great measure, influenced by the +hour. Exposed to the raw, crude atmosphere, which has neither the +nipping, wholesome shrewdness of morn, nor the profound chillness of +night, the frame vainly struggles against the dull, miserable sensations +engendered by the damps, and at once communicates them to the spirits. +Hope forsakes us. We are weary, exhausted. Our energy is dispirited. +Sleep does "not weigh our eyelids down." We stare upon the vacancy. We +conjure up a thousand restless, disheartening images. We abandon +projects we have formed, and which, viewed through this medium, appear +fantastical, chimerical, absurd. We want rest, refreshment, energy. + +We will not say that Turpin had all these misgivings. But he had to +struggle hard with himself to set sleep and exhaustion at defiance. + +The moon had set. The stars, + + Pinnacled deep in the intense main, + +had all--save one, the herald of the dawn--withdrawn their luster. A +dull mist lay on the stream, and the air became piercing cold. Turpin's +chilled fingers could scarcely grasp the slackening rein, while his +eyes, irritated by the keen atmosphere, hardly enabled him to +distinguish surrounding objects, or even to guide his steed. It was +owing, probably, to this latter circumstance, that Bess suddenly +floundered and fell, throwing her master over her head. + +Turpin instantly recovered himself. His first thought was for his horse. +But Bess was instantly upon her legs--covered with dust and foam, sides +and cheeks--and with her large eyes glaring wildly, almost piteously, +upon her master. + +"Art hurt, lass?" asked Dick, as she shook herself, and slightly +shivered. And he proceeded to the horseman's scrutiny. "Nothing but a +shake; though that dull eye--those quivering flanks----" added he, +looking earnestly at her. "She won't go much further, and I must give it +up--what! give up the race just when it's won? No, that can't be. Ha! +well thought on. I've a bottle of liquid, given me by an old fellow, who +was a knowing cove and famous jockey in his day, which he swore would +make a horse go as long as he'd a leg to carry him, and bade me keep it +for some great occasion. I've never used it; but I'll try it now. It +should be in this pocket. Ah! Bess, wench, I fear I'm using thee, after +all, as Sir Luke did his mistress, that I thought so like thee. No +matter! It will be a glorious end." + +Raising her head upon his shoulder, Dick poured the contents of the +bottle down the throat of his mare. Nor had he to wait long before its +invigorating effects were instantaneous. The fire was kindled in the +glassy orb; her crest was once more erected; her flank ceased to quiver; +and she neighed loud and joyously. + +"Egad, the old fellow was right," cried Dick. "The drink has worked +wonders. What the devil could it have been? It smells like spirit," +added he, examining the bottle. "I wish I'd left a taste for myself. But +here's that will do as well." And he drained his flask of the last drop +of brandy. + +Dick's limbs were now become so excessively stiff, that it was with +difficulty he could remount his horse. But this necessary preliminary +being achieved by the help of a stile, he found no difficulty in +resuming his accustomed position upon the saddle. We know not whether +there was any likeness between our Turpin and that modern Hercules of +the sporting world, Mr. Osbaldeston. Far be it from us to institute any +comparison, though we cannot help thinking that, in one particular, he +resembled that famous "copper-bottomed" squire. This we will leave to +our reader's discrimination. Dick bore his fatigues wonderfully. He +suffered somewhat of that martyrdom which, according to Tom Moore, +occurs "to weavers and M. P.'s, from sitting too long;" but again on his +courser's back, he cared not for anything. + +Once more, at a gallant pace, he traversed the banks of the Don, +skirting the fields of flax that bound its sides, and hurried far more +swiftly than its current to its confluence with the Aire. + +Snaith was past. He was on the road to Selby when dawn first began to +break. Here and there a twitter was heard in the hedge; a hare ran +across his path, gray-looking as the morning self; and the mists began +to rise from the earth. A bar of gold was drawn against the east, like +the roof of a gorgeous palace. But the mists were heavy in this world of +rivers and their tributary streams. The Ouse was before him, the Trent +and Aire behind; the Don and Derwent on either hand, all in their way to +commingle their currents ere they formed the giant Humber. Amid a region +so prodigal of water, no wonder the dews fell thick as rain. Here and +there the ground was clear; but then again came a volley of vapor, dim +and palpable as smoke. + +While involved in one of these fogs, Turpin became aware of another +horseman by his side. It was impossible to discern the features of the +rider, but his figure in the mist seemed gigantic; neither was the color +of his steed distinguishable. Nothing was visible except the +meagre-looking, phantom-like outline of a horse and his rider, and, as +the unknown rode upon the turf that edged the way, even the sound of the +horse's hoofs was scarcely audible. Turpin gazed, not without +superstitious awe. Once or twice he essayed to address the strange +horseman, but his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. He fancied he +discovered in the mist-exaggerated lineaments of the stranger a wild and +fantastic resemblance to his friend Tom King. "It must be Tom," thought +Turpin; "he is come to warn me of my approaching end. I will speak to +him." + +But terror o'ermastered his speech. He could not force out a word, and +thus side by side they rode in silence. Quaking with fears he would +scarcely acknowledge to himself, Dick watched every motion of his +companion. He was still, stern, spectre-like, erect; and looked for all +the world like a demon on his phantom steed. His courser seemed, in the +indistinct outline, to be huge and bony, and, as he snorted furiously +in the fog, Dick's heated imagination supplied his breath with a due +proportion of flame. Not a word was spoken--not a sound heard, save the +sullen dead beat of his hoofs upon the grass. It was intolerable to ride +thus cheek by jowl with a goblin. Dick could stand it no longer. He put +spurs to his horse, and endeavored to escape. But it might not be. The +stranger, apparently without effort, was still by his side, and Bess's +feet, in her master's apprehensions, were nailed to the ground. +By-and-by, however, the atmosphere became clearer. Bright quivering +beams burst through the vaporous shroud, and then it was that Dick +discovered that the apparition of Tom King was no other than Luke +Rookwood. He was mounted on his old horse, Rook, and looked grim and +haggard as a ghost vanishing at the crowing of the cock. + +"Sir Luke Rookwood, by this light!" exclaimed Dick, in astonishment. +"Why, I took you for----" + +"The devil, no doubt?" returned Luke, smiling sternly, "and were sorry +to find yourself so hard pressed. Don't disquiet yourself; I am still +flesh and blood." + +"Had I taken you for one of mortal mould," said Dick, "you should have +soon seen where I'd have put you in the race. That confounded fog +deceived me, and Bess acted the fool as well as myself. However, now I +know you, Sir Luke, you must spur alongside, for the hawks are on the +wing; and though I've much to say, I've not a second to lose." And Dick +briefly detailed the particulars of his ride, concluding with his +rencontre with Barbara. "Here's the packet," said he, "just as I got it. +You must keep it till the proper moment. And here," added he, fumbling +in his pocket for another paper, "is the marriage document. You are now +your father's lawful son, let who will say you nay. Take it and welcome. +If you are ever master of Miss Mowbray's hand, you will not forget Dick +Turpin." + +"I will not," said Luke, eagerly grasping the certificate; "but she +never may be mine." + +"You have her oath?" + +"I have." + +"What more is needed?" + +"Her hand." + +"That will follow." + +"It _shall_ follow," replied Sir Luke, wildly. "You are right. She is my +affianced bride--affianced before hell, if not before heaven. I have +sealed the contract with blood--with Sybil's blood--and it shall be +fulfilled. I have her oath--her oath--ha, ha! Though I perish in the +attempt, I will wrest her from Ranulph's grasp. She shall never be his. +I would stab her first. Twice have I failed in my endeavors to bear her +off. I am from Rookwood even now. To-morrow night I shall renew the +attack. Will you assist me?" + +"To-morrow night!" interrupted Dick. + +"Nay, I should say to-night. A new day has already dawned," replied +Luke. + +"I will: she is at Rookwood?" + +"She languishes there at present, attended by her mother and her lover. +The hall is watched and guarded. Ranulph is ever on the alert. But we +will storm their garrison. I have a spy within its walls--a gipsy girl, +faithful to my interests. From her I have learnt that there is a plot to +wed Eleanor to Ranulph, and that the marriage is to take place privately +to-morrow. This must be prevented." + +"It must. But why not boldly appear in person at the hall, and claim +her?" + +"Why not? I am a proscribed felon. A price is set upon my head. I am +hunted through the country--driven to concealment, and dare not show +myself for fear of capture. What could I do now? They would load me with +fetters, bury me in a dungeon, and wed Eleanor to Ranulph. What would my +rights avail? What would her oath signify to them? No; she must be mine +by force. _His_ she shall never be. Again, I ask you, will you aid me?" + +"I have said--I will. Where is Alan Rookwood?" + +"Concealed within the hut on Thorne Waste. You know it--it was one of +your haunts." + +"I know it well," said Dick, "and Conkey Jem, its keeper, into the +bargain: he is a knowing file. I'll join you at the hut at midnight, if +all goes well. We'll bring off the wench, in spite of them all--just the +thing I like. But in case of a break-down on my part, suppose you take +charge of my purse in the mean time." + +Luke would have declined this offer. + +"Pshaw!" said Dick. "Who knows what may happen? and it's not ill-lined +either. You'll find an odd hundred or so in that silken bag--it's not +often your highwayman gives away a purse. Take it, man--we'll settle all +to-night; and if I don't come, keep it--it will help you to your bride. +And now off with you to the hut, for you are only hindering me. Adieu! +My love to old Alan. We'll do the trick to-night. Away with you to the +hut. Keep yourself snug there till midnight, and we'll ride over to +Rookwood." + +"At midnight," replied Sir Luke, wheeling off, "I shall expect you." + +"'Ware hawks!" hallooed Dick. + +But Luke had vanished. In another instant Dick was scouring the plain as +rapidly as ever. In the mean time, as Dick has casually alluded to the +hawks, it may not be amiss to inquire how they had flown throughout the +night, and whether they were still in chase of their quarry. + +With the exception of Titus, who was completely done up at Grantham, +"having got," as he said, "a complete bellyful of it," they were still +on the wing, and resolved sooner or later to pounce upon their prey, +pursuing the same system as heretofore in regard to the post-horses. +Major Mowbray and Paterson took the lead, but the irascible and +invincible attorney was not far in their rear, his wrath having been by +no means allayed by the fatigue he had undergone. At Bawtrey they held +a council of war for a few minutes, being doubtful which course he had +taken. Their incertitude was relieved by a foot traveller, who had heard +Dick's loud halloo on passing the boundary of Nottinghamshire, and had +seen him take the lower road. They struck, therefore, into the path at +Thorne at a hazard, and were soon satisfied they were right. Furiously +did they now spur on. They reached Selby, changed horses at the inn in +front of the venerable cathedral church, and learnt from the postboy +that a toilworn horseman, on a jaded steed, had ridden through the town +about five minutes before them, and could not be more than a quarter of +a mile in advance. "His horse was so dead beat," said the lad, "that I'm +sure he cannot have got far; and, if you look sharp, I'll be bound +you'll overtake him before he reaches Cawood Ferry." + +Mr. Coates was transported. "We'll lodge him snug in York Castle before +an hour, Paterson," cried he, rubbing his hands. + +"I hope so, sir," said the chief constable, "but I begin to have some +qualms." + +"Now, gentlemen," shouted the postboy, "come along. I'll soon bring you +to him." + + + + +_CHAPTER XII_ + +_CAWOOD FERRY_ + + The sight renewed my courser's feet, + A moment, staggering feebly fleet, + A moment, with a faint low neigh, + He answered, and then fell. + With gasps and glazing eyes he lay, + And reeking limbs immovable,-- + His first, and last career was done. + + _Mazeppa._ + + +The sun had just o'ertopped the "high eastern hill," as Turpin reached +the Ferry of Cawood, and his beams were reflected upon the deep and +sluggish waters of the Ouse. Wearily had he dragged his course +thither--wearily and slow. The powers of his gallant steed were spent, +and he could scarcely keep her from sinking. It was now midway 'twixt +the hours of five and six. Nine miles only lay before him, and that +thought again revived him. He reached the water's edge, and hailed the +ferryboat, which was then on the other side of the river. At that +instant a loud shout smote his ear; it was the halloo of his pursuers. +Despair was in his look. He shouted to the boatman, and bade him pull +fast. The man obeyed; but he had to breast a strong stream, and had a +lazy bark and heavy sculls to contend with. He had scarcely left the +shore when, another shout was raised from the pursuers. The tramp of +their steeds grew louder and louder. + +The boat had scarcely reached the middle of the stream. His captors were +at hand. Quietly did he walk down the bank, and as cautiously enter the +water. There was a plunge, and steed and rider were swimming down the +river. + +Major Mowbray was at the brink of the stream. He hesitated an instant, +and stemmed the tide. Seized, as it were, by a mania for equestrian +distinction, Mr. Coates braved the torrent. Not so Paterson. He very +coolly took out his bulldogs, and, watching Turpin, cast up in his own +mind the _pros_ and _cons_ of shooting him as he was crossing. "I could +certainly hit him," thought, or said, the constable; "but what of that? +A dead highwayman is worth nothing--alive, he _weighs_ 300_l_. I won't +shoot him, but I'll make a pretence." And he fired accordingly. + +The shot skimmed over the water, but did not, as it was intended, do +much mischief. It, however, occasioned a mishap, which had nearly proved +fatal to our aquatic attorney. Alarmed at the report of the pistol, in +the nervous agitation of the moment Coates drew in his rein so tightly +that his steed instantly sank. A moment or two afterwards he rose, +shaking his ears, and floundering heavily towards the shore; and such +was the chilling effect of this sudden immersion, that Mr. Coates now +thought much more of saving himself than of capturing Turpin. Dick, +meanwhile, had reached the opposite bank, and, refreshed by her bath, +Bess scrambled up the sides of the stream, and speedily regained the +road. "I shall do it yet," shouted Dick; "that stream has saved her. +Hark away, lass! Hark away!" + +Bess heard the cheering cry, and she answered to the call. She roused +all her energies; strained every sinew, and put forth all her remaining +strength. Once more, on wings of swiftness, she bore him away from his +pursuers, and Major Mowbray, who had now gained the shore, and made +certain of securing him, beheld him spring, like a wounded hare, from +beneath his very hand. + +"It cannot hold out," said the major; "it is but an expiring flash; that +gallant steed must soon drop." + +"She be regularly booked, that's certain," said the postboy. + +"We shall find her on the road." + +Contrary to all expectation, however, Bess held on, and set pursuit at +defiance. Her pace was swift as when she started. But it was +unconscious and mechanical action. It wanted the ease, the lightness, +the life of her former riding. She seemed screwed up to a task which she +must execute. There was no flogging, no gory heel; but the heart was +throbbing, tugging at the sides within. Her spirit spurred her onwards. +Her eye was glazing; her chest heaving; her flank quivering; her crest +again fallen. Yet she held on. "She is dying!" said Dick. "I feel +it----" No, she held on. + +Fulford is past. The towers and pinnacles of York burst upon him in all +the freshness, the beauty, and the glory of a bright, clear, autumnal +morn. The ancient city seemed to smile a welcome--a greeting. The noble +Minster and its serene and massive pinnacles, crocketed, lantern-like, +and beautiful; St. Mary's lofty spire, All-Hallows Tower, the massive +mouldering walls of the adjacent postern, the grim castle, and +Clifford's neighboring keep--all beamed upon him, like a bright-eyed +face, that laughs out openly. + +"It is done--it is won," cried Dick. "Hurrah! hurrah!" And the sunny air +was cleft with his shouts. + +Bess was not insensible to her master's exultation. She neighed feebly +in answer to his call, and reeled forwards. It was a piteous sight to +see her,--to mark her staring, protruding eyeball,--her shaking flanks; +but, while life and limb held together, she held on. + +Another mile is past. York is near. + +"Hurrah!" shouted Dick; but his voice was hushed. Bess tottered--fell. +There was a dreadful gasp--a parting moan--a snort; her eye gazed, for +an instant, upon her master, with a dying glare; then grew glassy, +rayless, fixed. A shiver ran through her frame. Her heart had burst. + +Dick's eyes were blinded, as with rain. His triumph, though achieved, +was forgotten--his own safety was disregarded. He stood weeping and +swearing, like one beside himself. + +"And art thou gone, Bess?" cried he, in a voice of agony, lifting up his +courser's head, and kissing her lips, covered with blood-flecked foam. +"Gone, gone! and I have killed the best steed that was ever crossed! And +for what?" added Dick, beating his brow with his clenched hand--"for +what? for what?" + +At this moment the deep bell of the Minster clock tolled out the hour of +six. + +"I am answered," gasped Dick; "_it was to hear those strokes_." + +Turpin was roused from the state of stupefaction into which he had +fallen by a smart slap on the shoulder. Recalled to himself by the blow, +he started at once to his feet, while his hands sought his pistols: but +he was spared the necessity of using them, by discovering in the +intruder the bearded visage of the gipsy Balthazar. The patrico was +habited in mendicant weeds, and sustained a large wallet upon his +shoulders. + +"So it's all over with the best mare in England, I see," said Balthazar; +"I can guess how it has happened--you are pursued?" + +"I am," said Dick, roughly. + +"Your pursuers are at hand?" + +"Within a few hundred yards." + +"Then, why stay here? Fly while you can." + +"Never--never," cried Turpin; "I'll fight it out here by Bess's side. +Poor lass! I've killed her--but she has done it--ha, ha!--we have +won--what?" And his utterance was again choked. + +"Hark! I hear the tramp of horse, and shouts," cried the patrico. "Take +this wallet. You will find a change of dress within it. Dart into that +thick copse--save yourself." + +"But Bess--I cannot leave her," exclaimed Dick, with an agonizing look +at his horse. + +"And what did Bess die for, but to save you?" rejoined the patrico. + +"True, true," said Dick; "but take care of her, don't let those dogs of +hell meddle with her carcase." + +"Away," cried the patrico, "leave Bess to me." + +Possessing himself of the wallet, Dick disappeared in the adjoining +copse. + +He had not been gone many seconds when Major Mowbray rode up. + +"Who is this?" exclaimed the Major, flinging himself from his horse, and +seizing the patrico; "this is not Turpin." + +"Certainly not," replied Balthazar, coolly. "I am not exactly the figure +for a highwayman." + +"Where is he? What has become of him?" asked Coates, in despair, as he +and Paterson joined the major. + +"Escaped, I fear," replied the major. "Have you seen any one, fellow?" +added he, addressing the patrico. + +"I have seen no one," replied Balthazar. "I am only this instant +arrived. This dead horse lying in the road attracted my attention." + +"Ha!" exclaimed Paterson, leaping from his steed, "this may be Turpin +after all. He has as many disguises as the devil himself, and may have +carried that goat's hair in his pocket." Saying which, he seized the +patrico by the beard, and shook it with as little reverence as the Gaul +handled the hirsute chin of the Roman senator. + +"The devil! hands off," roared Balthazar. "By Salamon, I won't stand +such usage. Do you think a beard like mine is the growth of a few +minutes? Hands off! I say." + +"Regularly done!" said Paterson, removing his hold of the patrico's +chin, and looking as blank as a cartridge. + +"Ay," exclaimed Coates; "all owing to this worthless piece of carrion. +If it were not that I hope to see him dangling from those +walls"--pointing towards the Castle--"I should wish her master were by +her side now. To the dogs with her." And he was about to spurn the +breathless carcase of poor Bess, when a sudden blow, dealt by the +patrico's staff, felled him to the ground. + +"I'll teach you to molest me," said Balthazar, about to attack Paterson. + +"Come, come," said the discomfited chief constable, "no more of this. +It's plain we're in the wrong box. Every bone in my body aches +sufficiently without the aid of your cudgel, old fellow. Come, Mr. +Coates, take my arm, and let's be moving. We've had an infernal long +ride for nothing." + +"Not so," replied Coates; "I've paid pretty dearly for it. However, let +us see if we can get any breakfast at the Bowling-green, yonder; though +I've already had my morning draught," added the facetious man of law, +looking at his dripping apparel. + +"Poor Black Bess!" said Major Mowbray, wistfully regarding the body of +the mare, as it lay stretched at his feet. "Thou deservedst a better +fate, and a better master. In thee, Dick Turpin has lost his best +friend. His exploits will, henceforth, want the coloring of romance, +which thy unfailing energies threw over them. Light lie the ground over +thee, thou matchless mare!" + +To the Bowling-green the party proceeded, leaving the patrico in +undisturbed possession of the lifeless body of Black Bess. Major Mowbray +ordered a substantial repast to be prepared with all possible +expedition. + +A countryman, in a smock-frock, was busily engaged at his morning's +meal. + +"To see that fellow bolt down his breakfast, one would think he had +fasted for a month," said Coates; "see the wholesome effects of an +honest, industrious life, Paterson. I envy him his appetite--I should +fall to with more zest were Dick Turpin in his place." + +The countryman looked up. He was an odd-looking fellow, with a terrible +squint, and a strange, contorted countenance. + +"An ugly dog!" exclaimed Paterson: "what a devil of a twist he has +got!" + +"What's that you says about Dick Taarpin, measter?" asked the +countryman, with his mouth half full of bread. + +"Have you seen aught of him?" asked Coates. + +"Not I," mumbled the rustic; "but I hears aw the folks hereabouts talk +on him. They say as how he sets all the lawyers and constables at +defiance, and laughs in his sleeve at their efforts to cotch him--ha, +ha! He gets over more ground in a day than they do in a week--ho, ho!" + +"That's all over now," said Coates, peevishly. "He has cut his own +throat--ridden his famous mare to death." + +The countryman almost choked himself, in the attempt to bolt a huge +mouthful. "Ay--indeed, measter! How happened that?" asked he, so soon as +he recovered speech. + +"The fool rode her from London to York last night," returned Coates; +"such a feat was never performed before. What horse could be expected to +live through such work as that?" + +"Ah, he were a foo' to attempt that," observed the countryman; "but you +followed belike?" + +"We did." + +"And took him arter all, I reckon?" asked the rustic, squinting more +horribly than ever. + +"No," returned Coates, "I can't say we did; but we'll have him yet. I'm +pretty sure he can't be far off. We may be nearer him than we imagine." + +"May be so, measter," returned the countryman; "but might I be so bold +as to ax how many horses you used i' the chase--some half-dozen, maybe?" + +"Half a dozen!" growled Paterson; "we had twenty at the least." + +"And I ONE!" mentally ejaculated Turpin, for he was the countryman. + + + + +_BOOK V_ + + +_THE OATH_ + + It was an ill oath better broke than kept-- + The laws of nature, and of nations, do + Dispense with matters of divinity + In such a case. + + TATEHAM. + + + + +_CHAPTER I_ + +_THE HUT ON THORNE WASTE_ + + _Hind._ Are all our horses and our arms in safety? + + _Furbo._ They feed, like Pluto's palfreys, under ground. + Our pistols, swords, and other furniture, + Are safely locked up at our rendezvous. + + _Prince of Prigs' Revels._ + + +The hut on Thorne Waste, to which we have before incidentally alluded, +and whither we are now about to repair, was a low, lone hovel, situate +on the banks of the deep and oozy Don, at the eastern extremity of that +extensive moor. Ostensibly its owner fulfilled the duties of ferryman to +that part of the river; but as the road which skirted his tenement was +little frequented, his craft was, for the most part, allowed to sleep +undisturbed in her moorings. + +In reality, however, he was the inland agent of a horde of smugglers who +infested the neighboring coast; his cabin was their rendezvous; and not +unfrequently, it was said, the depository of their contraband goods. +Conkey Jem--so was he called by his associates, on account of the +Slawkenbergian promontory which decorated his countenance--had been an +old hand at the same trade; but having returned from a seven years' +leave of absence from his own country, procured by his lawless life, now +managed matters with more circumspection and prudence, and had never +since been detected in his former illicit traffic; nor, though so +marvellously gifted in that particular himself, was he ever known to +_nose_ upon any of his accomplices; or, in other words, to betray them. +On the contrary, his hut was a sort of asylum for all fugitives from +justice; and although the sanctity of his walls would, in all +probability, have been little regarded, had any one been, detected +within them, yet, strange to say, even if a robber had been tracked--as +it often chanced--to Jem's immediate neighborhood, all traces of him +were sure to be lost at the ferryman's hut; and further search was +useless. + +Within, the hut presented such an appearance as might be expected, from +its owner's pursuits and its own unpromising exterior. Consisting of +little more than a couple of rooms, the rude whitewashed walls +exhibited, in lieu of prints of more pretension, a gallery of +choicely-illustrated ballads, celebrating the exploits of various +highwaymen, renowned in song, amongst which our friend Dick Turpin +figured conspicuously upon his sable steed, Bess being represented by a +huge rampant black patch, and Dick, with a pistol considerably longer +than the arm that sustained it. Next to this curious collection was a +drum-net, a fishing-rod, a landing-net, an eel-spear, and other +piscatorial apparatus, with a couple of sculls and a boat-hook, +indicative of Jem's ferryman's office, suspended by various hooks; the +whole blackened and begrimed by peat-smoke, there being no legitimate +means of _exit_ permitted to the vapor generated by the turf-covered +hearthstone. The only window, indeed, in the hut, was to the front; the +back apartment, which served Jem for dormitory, had no aperture whatever +for the admission of light, except such as was afforded through the door +of communication between the rooms. A few broken rush-bottomed chairs, +with a couple of dirty tables, formed the sum total of the ferryman's +furniture. + +Notwithstanding the grotesque effect of his exaggerated nasal organ, +Jem's aspect was at once savage and repulsive; his lank black hair hung +about his inflamed visage in wild elf locks, the animal predominating +throughout; his eyes were small, red, and wolfish, and glared +suspiciously from beneath his scarred and tufted eyebrows; while certain +of his teeth projected, like the tusks of a boar, from out his +coarse-lipped, sensual mouth. Dwarfish in stature, and deformed in +person, Jem was built for strength; and what with his width of shoulder +and shortness of neck, his figure looked as square and as solid as a +cube. His throat and hirsute chest, constantly exposed to the weather, +had acquired a glowing tan, while his arms, uncovered to the shoulders, +and clothed with fur, like a bear's hide, down, almost, to the tips of +his fingers, presented a knot of folded muscles, the concentrated force +of which few would have desired to encounter in action. + +It was now on the stroke of midnight; and Jem, who had been lying +extended upon the floor of his hovel, suddenly aroused by that warning +impulse which never fails to awaken one of his calling at the exact +moment when they require to be upon the alert, now set about fanning +into flame the expiring fuel upon his hearth. Having succeeded in +igniting further portions of the turf, Jem proceeded to examine the +security of his door and window, and satisfied that lock and bolt were +shot, and that the shutter was carefully closed, he kindled a light at +his fire, and walked towards his bedroom. But it was not to retire for +the night that the ferryman entered his dormitory. Beside his crazy +couch stood a litter of empty bottles and a beer cask, crowding the +chamber. The latter he rolled aside, and pressing his foot upon the +plank beneath it, the board gave way, and a trap-door opening, +discovered a ladder, conducting, apparently, into the bowels of the +earth. Jem leaned over the abyss, and called in hoarse accents to some +one below. + +An answer was immediately returned, and a light became soon afterwards +visible at the foot of the ladder. Two figures next ascended; the first +who set foot within the ferryman's chamber was Alan Rookwood: the other, +as the reader may perhaps conjecture, was his grandson. + +"Is it the hour?" asked Luke, as he sprang from out the trap-door. + +"Ay," replied Jem, with a coarse laugh, "or I had not disturbed myself +to call you. But, maybe," added he, softening his manner a little, +"you'll like some refreshments before you start? A stoup of Nantz will +put you in cue for the job, ha, ha!" + +"Not I," replied Luke, who could ill tolerate his companion's +familiarity. + +"Give me to drink," said Alan, walking feebly towards the fire, and +extending his skinny fingers before it. "I am chilled by the damps of +that swampy cave--the natural heat within me is nigh extinguished." + +"Here is that shall put fresh marrow into your old bones," returned Jem, +handing him a tumbler of brandy; "never stint it. I'll be sworn you'll +be the better on't, for you look desperate queer, man, about the +mazard." + +Alan was, in sooth, a ghastly spectacle. The events of the last few days +had wrought a fearful change. His countenance was almost exanimate; and +when, with shaking hand and trembling lips, he had drained the fiery +potion to the dregs, a terrible grimace was excited upon his features, +such as is produced upon the corpse by the action of the galvanic +machine. Even Jem regarded him with a sort of apprehension. After he had +taken breath for a moment, Alan broke out into a fit of wild and +immoderate laughter. + +"Why, ay," said he, "this is indeed to grow young again, and to feel +fresh fire within one's veins. Who would have thought so much of life +and energy could reside in this little vessel? I am myself once more, +and not the same soulless, pulseless lump of clay I was a moment or two +back. The damps of that den had destroyed me--and the solitude--the +_waking dreams_ I've had--the visions! horrible! I will not think of +them. I am better now--ready to execute my plans--_your_ plans I should +say, grandson Luke. Are our horses in readiness? Why do we tarry? The +hour is arrived, and I would not that my new-blown courage should +evaporate ere the great work for which I live be accomplished. That +done, I ask no further stimulant. Let us away." + +"We tarry but for Turpin," said Luke; "I am as impatient as yourself. I +fear some mischance must have befallen him, or he would have been true +to his appointment. Do you not think so?" he added, addressing the +ferryman. + +"Why," replied Jem, reluctantly, "since you put it home to me, and I +can't conceal it no longer, I'll tell you what I didn't tell afore, for +fear you should be down in the mouth about it. Dick Turpin can do +nothing for you--he's grabb'd." + +"Turpin apprehended!" ejaculated Luke. + +"Ay," returned Jem. "I learnt from a farmer who crossed the ferry at +nightfall, that he were grabb'd this morning at York, after having +ridden his famous cherry-colored prad to death--that's what hurts me +more not all the rest; though I fear Dick will scarce cheat the nubbing +cheat this go. His time's up, I calculate." + +"Will you supply his place and accompany us?" asked Luke of the +ferryman. + +"No, no," replied Jem, shaking his head; "there's too much risk, and too +little profit, in the business for me--it won't pay." + +"And what might tempt you to undertake the enterprise?" asked Alan. + +"More than you have to offer, Master Peter," replied Jem, who had not +been enlightened upon the subject of Alan's real name or condition. + +"How know you that?" demanded Alan. "Name your demand." + +"Well, then, I'll not say but a hundred pounds, if you had it, might +bribe me----" + +"To part with your soul to the devil, I doubt not," said Luke, fiercely +stamping the ground. "Let us be gone. We need not his mercenary aid. We +will do without him." + +"Stay," said Alan, "you shall have the hundred, provided you will assure +us of your services." + +"Cut no more blarneyfied whids, Master Sexton," replied Jem, in a gruff +tone. "If I'm to go, I must have the chink down, and that's more nor +either of you can do, I'm thinking." + +"Give me your purse," whispered Alan to his grandson. "Pshaw," continued +he, "do you hesitate? This man can do much for us. Think upon Eleanor, +and be prudent. You cannot accomplish your task unaided." Taking the +amount from the purse, he gave it to the ferryman, adding, "If we +succeed, the sum shall be doubled; and now let us set out." + +During Alan's speech, Jem's sharp eyes had been fastened upon the purse, +while he mechanically clutched the bank-notes which were given to him. +He could not remove his gaze, but continued staring at the treasure +before him, as if he would willingly, by force, have made it all his +own. + +Alan saw the error he had committed in exposing the contents of the +purse to the avaricious ferryman, and was about to restore it to Luke, +when the bag was suddenly snatched from his grasp, and himself levelled +by a blow upon the floor. Conkey Jem found the temptation irresistible. +Knowing himself to be a match for both his companions, and imagining he +was secure from interruption, he conceived the idea of making away with +them, and possessing himself of their wealth. No sooner had he disposed +of Alan, than he assailed Luke, who met his charge half way. With the +vigor and alacrity of the latter the reader is already acquainted, but +he was no match for the herculean strength of the double-jointed +ferryman, who, with the ferocity of the boar he so much resembled, thus +furiously attacked him. Nevertheless, as may be imagined, he was not +disposed to yield up his life tamely. He saw at once the villain's +murderous intentions, and, well aware of his prodigious power, would not +have risked a close struggle could he have avoided it. Snatching the +eel-spear from the wall, he had hurled it at the head of his adversary, +but without effect. In the next instant he was locked in a clasp +terrible as that of a Polar bear. In spite of all his struggles, Luke +was speedily hurled to the ground: and Jem, who had thrown himself upon +him, was apparently searching about for some weapon to put a bloody +termination to the conflict, when the trampling of a horse was heard at +the door, three taps were repeated slowly, one after the other, and a +call resounded from a whistle. + +"Damnation!" ejaculated Jem, gruffly, "interrupted!" And he seemed +irresolute, slightly altering his position on Luke's body. + +The moment was fortunate for Luke, and, in all probability, saved his +life. He extricated himself from the ferryman's grasp, regained his +feet, and, what was of more importance, the weapon he had thrown away. + +"Villain!" cried he, about to plunge the spear with all his force into +his enemy's side, "you shall----" + +The whistle was again heard without. + +"Don't you hear that?" cried Jem: "'Tis Turpin's call." + +"Turpin!" echoed Luke, dropping the point of his weapon. "Unbar the +door, you treacherous rascal, and admit him." + +"Well, say no more about it, Sir Luke," said Jem, fawningly; "I knows I +owes you my life, and I thank you for it. Take back the lowre. He should +not have shown it me--it was that as did all the mischief." + +"Unbar the door, and parley not," said Luke contemptuously. + +Jem complied with pretended alacrity, but real reluctance, casting +suspicious glances at Luke as he withdrew the bolts. The door at length +being opened, haggard, exhausted, and covered with dust, Dick Turpin +staggered into the hut. + +"Well, I am here," said he, with a hollow laugh. "I've kept my word--ha, +ha! I've been damnably put to it; but here I am, ha, ha!" And he sank +upon one of the stools. + +"We heard you were apprehended," said Luke. "I am glad to find the +information was false," added he, glancing angrily at the ferryman. + +"Whoever told you that, told you a lie, Sir Luke," replied Dick; "but +what are you scowling at, old Charon?--and you, Sir Luke? Why do you +glower at each other? Make fast the door--bolt it, Cerberus--right! Now +give me a glass of brandy, and then I'll talk--a bumper--so--another. +What's that I see--a dead man? Old Peter--Alan I mean--has anything +happened to him, that he has taken his measure there so quietly?" + +"Nothing, I trust," said Luke, stooping to raise up his grandsire. "The +blow has stunned him." + +"The blow?" repeated Turpin. "What! there _has_ been a quarrel then? I +thought as much from your amiable looks at each other. Come, come, we +must have no differences. Give the old earthworm a taste of this--I'll +engage it will bring him to fast enough. Ay, rub his temples with it if +you'd rather; but it's a better remedy down the gullet--the natural +course; and hark ye, Jem, search your crib quickly, and see if you have +any _grub_ within it, and any more _bub_ in the cellar: I'm as hungry as +a hunter, and as thirsty as a camel." + + + + +_CHAPTER II_ + +_MAJOR MOWBRAY_ + + _Mephistopheles._ Out with your toasting iron! Thrust away! + + HAYWARD'S _Translation of Faust_. + + +Conkey Jem went in search of such provisions as his hovel afforded. +Turpin, meantime, lent his assistance towards the revival of Alan +Rookwood; and it was not long before his efforts, united with those of +Luke, were successful, and Alan restored to consciousness. He was +greatly surprised to find the highwayman had joined them, and expressed +an earnest desire to quit the hut as speedily as possible. + +"That shall be done forthwith, my dear fellow," said Dick. "But if you +had fasted as long as I have done, and gone through a few of my fatigues +into the bargain, you would perceive, without difficulty, the propriety +of supping before you started. Here comes Old Nosey, with a flitch of +bacon and a loaf. Egad, I can scarce wait for the toasting. In my +present mood, I could almost devour a grunter in the sty." Whereupon he +applied himself to the loaf, and to a bottle of stout March ale, which +Jem placed upon the table, quaffing copious draughts of the latter, +while the ferryman employed himself in toasting certain rashers of the +flitch upon the hissing embers. + +Luke, meanwhile, stalked impatiently about the room. He had laid aside +his tridental spear, having first, however, placed a pistol within his +breast to be ready for instant service, should occasion demand it, as he +could now put little reliance upon the ferryman's fidelity. He glanced +with impatience at Turpin, who pursued his meal with steady voracity, +worthy of a half-famished soldier; but the highwayman returned no answer +to his looks, except such as was conveyed by the incessant clatter of +his masticating jaws, during the progress of his, apparently, +interminable repast. + +"Ready for you in a second, Sir Luke," said Dick; "all right +now--capital ale, Charon--strong as Styx--ha, ha!--one other rasher, and +I've done. Sorry to keep you--can't conceive how cleverly I put the +winkers upon 'em at York, in the dress of a countryman; all owing to old +Balty, the patrico, an old pal--ha, ha! My old pals never _nose_ upon +me--eh, Nosey--always help one out of the water--always staunch. Here's +health to you, old crony." + +Jem returned a sulky response, as he placed the last rasher on the +table, which was speedily discussed. + +"Poor Bess!" muttered Dick, as he quaffed off the final glass of ale. +"Poor lass! we buried her by the roadside, beneath the trees--deep--deep. +Her remains shall never be disturbed. Alas! alas! my bonny Black Bess! +But no matter, her name is yet alive--her deeds will survive her--the +trial is over. And now," continued he, rising from his seat, "I'm with +you. Where are the tits?" + +"In the stable, under ground," growled Jem. + +Alan Rookwood, in the mean time, had joined his grandson, and they +conversed an instant or two apart. + +"My strength will not bear me through the night," said he. "That fellow +has thoroughly disabled me. You must go without me to the hall. Here is +the key of the secret passage. You know the entrance. I will await you +in the tomb." + +"The tomb!" echoed Luke. + +"Ay, our family vault," returned Alan, with a ghastly grin--"it is the +only place of security for me now. Let me see _her_ there. Let me know +that my vengeance is complete, that I triumph in my death over him, the +accursed _brother_, through you, my grandson. _You_ have a rival +brother--a successful one; you know now what hatred is." + +"I do," returned Luke, fiercely. + +"But not such hate as mine, which, through a life, a long life, hath +endured, intense as when 'twas first engendered in my bosom; which _from +one_ hath spread o'er all my race--o'er all save _you_--and which even +now, when death stares me in the face--when the spirit pants to fly from +its prison-house, burns fiercely as ever. You cannot know what hate like +that may be. You must have wrongs--such wrongs as _mine_ first." + +"My hate to Ranulph is bitter as your own to Sir Reginald." + +"Name him not," shrieked Alan. "But, oh! to think upon the bride he +robbed me of--the young--the beautiful!--whom I loved to madness; whose +memory is a barbed shaft, yet rankling keen as ever at my heart. God of +Justice! how is it that I have thus long survived? But some men die by +inches. My dying lips shall name him once again, and then 'twill be but +to blend his name with curses." + +"I speak of him no more," said Luke. "I will meet you in the vault." + +"Remember, to-morrow is her wedding day with Ranulph." + +"Think you I forget it?" + +"Bear it constantly in mind. To-morrow's dawn must see her _yours_ or +_his_. You have her oath. To you or to death she is affianced. If she +should hesitate in her election, do not you hesitate. Woman's will is +fickle; her scruples of conscience will be readily overcome; she will +not heed her vows--but let her not escape you. Cast off all your +weakness. You are young, and not as I am, age-enfeebled. Be firm, and," +added he, with a look of terrible meaning, "if all else should fail--if +you are surrounded--if you cannot bear her off--use this," and he placed +a dagger in Luke's hands. "It has avenged me, ere now, on a perjured +wife, it will avenge you of a forsworn mistress, and remove all obstacle +to Rookwood." + +Luke took the weapon. + +"Would you have me kill her?" demanded he. + +"Sooner than she should be Ranulph's." + +"Ay, aught sooner than that. But I would not murder both." + +"Both!" echoed Alan. "I understand you not." + +"Sybil and Eleanor," replied Luke; "for, as surely as I live, Sybil's +death will lie at my door." + +"How so?" asked Alan; "the poison was self-ministered." + +"True," replied Luke, with terrible emphasis, "but I _spoke daggers_. +Hearken to me," said he, hollowly whispering in his grandsire's ears. +"Methinks I am not long for this world. I have seen her since her +death!" + +"Tut, tut," replied Alan. "'Tis not for you--a man--to talk thus. A +truce to these womanish fancies." + +"Womanish or not," returned Luke; "either my fancy has deceived me, or I +beheld her, distinctly as I now behold you, within yon cave, while you +were sleeping by my side." + +"It is disordered fancy," said Alan Rookwood. "You will live--live to +inherit Rookwood--live to see them fall crushed beneath your feet. For +myself, if I but see you master of Eleanor's hand, or know that she no +longer lives to bless your rival, or to mar your prospects, I care not +how soon I brave my threatened doom." + +"Of one or other you shall be resolved to-night," said Luke, placing the +dagger within his vest. + +At this moment a trampling of a horse was heard before the hovel, and in +another instant a loud knocking resounded from the door. The ferryman +instantly extinguished the light, motioning his companions to remain +silent. + +"What, ho!" shouted a voice. "Ferry wanted." + +"Gad zooks!" exclaimed Dick. "As I live, 'tis Major Mowbray!" + +"Major Mowbray!" echoed Alan, in amazement "What doth he here?" + +"He must be on his way from York to Rookwood, I conclude," said Dick. +"If he's here, I'll engage the others are not far off." + +Scarcely were the words out of Dick's mouth, when further clatter was +heard at the door, and the tones of Coates were heard, in _altissimo_ +key, demanding admittance. + +"Let us retire into the next room," whispered Turpin, "and then admit +them by all means, Conkey. And, hark ye, manage to detain them a few +seconds." + +"I'll do it," said Jem. "There's a bit of a hole you can peep through." + +Another loud rat-tat was heard at the door, threatening to burst it from +its hinges. + +"Well, I be coming," said Jem, seeing the coast was clear, in a drowsy, +yawning tone, as if just awakened from sleep. "You'll cross the river +none the faster for making so much noise." + +With these words he unbarred the door, and Coates and Paterson, who, it +appeared, were proceeding to Rookwood, entered the hovel. Major Mowbray +remained on horseback at the door. + +"Can you find us a glass of brandy to keep out the fog?" said Coates, +who knew something of our ferryman's vocations. "I know you are a lad of +amazing _spirit_." + +"May be I can, master, if I choose. But won't the other gemman walk +in-doors likewise?" + +"No, no," said Coates; "Major Mowbray don't choose to dismount." + +"Well, as you please," said Jem. "It'll take me a minute or two to get +the punt in order for all them prads." + +"The brandy in the first place," said Coates. "What's here?" added the +loquacious attorney, noticing the remnants of Turpin's repast. "But that +we're hurried, I should like a little frizzled bacon myself." + +Jem opened the door of his dormitory with the greatest caution, though +apparent indifference, and almost instantly returned with the brandy. +Coates filled a glass for Paterson, and then another for himself. The +ferryman left the house apparently to prepare his boat, half closing the +door after him. + +"By my faith! this is the right thing, Paterson," said the attorney. "We +may be sure the strength of this was never tested by a gauger's proof. +Take another thimbleful. We've twelve miles and a heavy pull to go +through ere we reach Rookwood. After all, we made but a poor night's +work of it, Master Constable. Cursed stupid in us to let him escape. I +only wish we had such another chance. Ah, if we had him within reach +now, how we would spring upon him--secure him in an instant. I should +glory in the encounter. I tell you what, Paterson, if ever he is taken, +I shall make a point of attending his execution, and see whether he dies +game. Ha, ha! You think he's sure to swing, Paterson, eh?" + +"Why, yes," replied the chief constable. "I wish I was as certain of my +reward as that Turpin will eventually figure at the scragging-post." + +"Your reward!" replied Coates. "Make yourself easy on that score, my +boy; you shall have your dues, depend upon it. Nay, for the matter of +that, I'll give you the money now, if you think proper." + +"Nothing like time present," said Paterson. "We'll make all square at +once." + +"Well, then," said Coates, taking out a pocket-book, "you shall have the +hundred I promised. You won't get Turpin's reward, the three hundred +pounds; but that can't be helped. You shall have mine--always a man of +my word, Paterson," continued the attorney, counting out the money. "My +father, the thief-taker, was a man of his word before me." + +"No doubt," said the chief constable; "I shall always be happy to serve +you." + +"And then there's that other affair," said the attorney, mysteriously, +still occupied in doling out his bank-notes, "that Luke Bradley's case; +the fellow, I mean, who calls himself Sir Luke Rookwood--ha, ha! A rank +impostor! Two fives, that makes fifty: you want another fifty, Paterson. +As I was saying, we may make a good job of that--we must ferret him out. +I know who will come down properly for that; and if we could only tuck +him up with his brother blade, why it would be worth double. He's all +along been a thorn in my Lady Rookwood's side; he's an artful +scoundrel." + +"Leave him to me," said Paterson; "I'll have him in less than a week. +What's your charge against him?" + +"Felony, burglary, murder, every description of crime under the +heavens," said Coates. "He's a very devil incarnate. Dick Turpin is as +mild as milk compared with him. By-the-by, now I think of it, this Jem, +Conkey Jem, as folks call him, may know something about him; he's a keen +file; I'll sound him. Thirty, forty, fifty--there's the exact amount. So +much for Dick Turpin." + +"Dick Turpin thanks you for it in person," said Dick, suddenly snatching +the whole sum from Paterson's hands, and felling the chief constable +with a blow of one of his pistols. "I wish I was as sure of escaping the +gallows as I am certain that Paterson has got his reward. You stare, +sir. You are once more in the hands of the Philistines. See who is at +your elbow." + +Coates, who was terrified almost out of his senses at the sight of +Turpin, scarcely ventured to turn his head; but when he did so, he was +perfectly horror-stricken at the threatening aspect of Luke, who held a +cutlass in his hand, which he had picked up in the ferryman's bedroom. + +"So you would condemn me for crimes I have never committed," said Luke. +"I am tempted, I own, to add the destruction of your worthless existence +to their number." + +"Mercy, for God's sake, mercy!" cried Coates, throwing himself at Luke's +feet. "I meant not what I said." + +"Hence, reptile," said Luke, pushing him aside; "I leave you to be dealt +upon by others." + +At this juncture, the door of the hut was flung open, and in rushed +Major Mowbray, sword in hand, followed by Conkey Jem. + +"There he stands, sir," cried the latter; "upon him!" + +"What! Conkey Jem turned snitch upon his pals?" cried Dick; "I scarce +believe my own ears." + +"Make yourself scarce, Dick," growled Jem; "the jigger's open, and the +boat loose. Leave Luke to his fate. He's sold." + +"Never! vile traitor," shouted Dick; "'tis thou art _sold_, not he;" +and, almost ere the words were spoken, a ball was lodged in the brain of +the treacherous ferryman. + +Major Mowbray, meanwhile, had rushed furiously upon Luke, who met his +assault with determined calmness. The strife was sharp, and threatened a +speedy and fatal issue. On the Major's side it was a desperate attack of +cut and thrust, which Luke had some difficulty in parrying; but as yet +no wounds were inflicted. Soldier as was the Major, Luke was not a whit +inferior to him in his knowledge of the science of defence, and in the +exercise of the broadsword he was perhaps the more skilful of the two: +upon the present occasion his coolness stood him in admirable stead. +Seeing him hard pressed, Turpin would have come to his assistance; but +Luke shouted to him to stand aside, and all that Dick could do, amid the +terrific clash of steel, was to kick the tables out of the way of the +combatants. Luke's aim was now slightly grazed by a cut made by the +Major, which he had parried. The smart of the wound roused his ire. He +attacked his adversary in his turn, with so much vigor and good will, +that, driven backwards by the irresistible assault, Major Mowbray +stumbled over the ferryman's body, which happened to lie in his way; and +his sword being struck from his grasp, his life became at once at his +assailant's disposal. + +Luke sheathed his sword. "Major Mowbray," said he, sternly, "your life +is in my power. I spare it for the blood that is between us--for your +sister's sake. I would not raise my hand against her brother." + +"I disclaim your kindred with me, villain!" wrathfully exclaimed the +Major. "I hold you no otherwise than as a wretched impostor, who has set +up claims he cannot justify; and as to my sister, if you dare to couple +her name----" and the Major made an ineffectual attempt to raise +himself, and to regain his sword, which Turpin, however, removed. + +"Dare!" echoed Luke, scornfully; "hereafter, you may learn to fear my +threats, and acknowledge the extent of my daring; and in that confidence +I give you life. Listen to me, sir. I am bound for Rookwood. I have +private access to the house--to your sister's chamber--_her +chamber_--mark you that! I shall go armed--attended. This night she +shall be mine. From you--from Ranulph--from Lady Rookwood, from all will +I bear her off. She shall be mine, and you, before the dawn, my brother, +or----" And Luke paused. + +"What further villainy remains untold?" inquired the Major, fiercely. + +"You shall bewail your sister's memory," replied Luke, gloomily. + +"I embrace the latter alternative with rapture," replied the Major--"God +grant her firmness to resist you. But I tremble for her." And the stern +soldier groaned aloud in his agony. + +"Here is a cord to bind him," said Turpin; "he must remain a prisoner +here." + +"Right," said Alan Rookwood, "unless--but enough blood has been shed +already." + +"Ay, marry has there," said Dick, "and I had rather not have given +Conkey Jem a taste of blue plumb, had there been any other mode of +silencing the snitching scoundrel, which there was not. As to the Major, +he's a gallant enemy, and shall have fair play as long as Dick Turpin +stands by. Come, sir," added he, to the Major, as he bound him hand and +foot with the rope, "I'll do it as gently as I can. You had better +submit with a good grace. There's no help for it. And now for my friend +Paterson, who was so anxious to furnish me with a hempen cravat, before +my neck was in order, he shall have an extra twist of the rope himself, +to teach him the inconvenience of a tight neckcloth when he recovers." +Saying which, he bound Paterson in such a manner, that any attempt at +liberation on the chief constable's part would infallibly strangle him. +"As to you, Mr. Coates," said he, addressing the trembling man of law, +"you shall proceed to Rookwood with us. You may yet be useful, and I'll +accommodate you with a seat behind my own saddle--a distinction I never +yet conferred upon any of your tribe. Recollect the countryman at the +Bowling-green at York--ha, ha! Come along, sir." And having kicked out +the turf fire, Dick prepared to depart. + +It would be vain to describe the feelings of rage and despair which +agitated the major's bosom, as he saw the party quit the hovel, +accompanied by Coates. Aware as he was of their destination, after one +or two desperate but ineffectual attempts to liberate himself, by which +he only increased the painful constriction of his bonds, without in the +slightest degree ameliorating his condition, he resigned himself, with +bitterest forebodings, to his fate. There was no one even to sympathize +with his sufferings. Beside him lay the gory corpse of the ferryman, +and, at a little distance, the scarcely more animate frame of the chief +constable. And here we must leave him, to follow, for a short space, the +course of Luke and his companions. + +Concerning themselves little about their own steeds, the party took +those which first offered, and embarking man and horse in the boat, soon +pushed across the waters of the lutulent Don. Arrived at the opposite +banks of the river, they mounted, and, guided by Luke, after half an +hour's sharp riding, arrived at the skirts of Rookwood Park. Entering +this beautiful sylvan domain, they rode for some time silently among the +trees, till they reached the knoll whence Luke beheld the hall on the +eventful night of his discovery of his mother's wedding ring. A few days +only had elapsed, but during that brief space what storms had swept over +his bosom--what ravages had they not made! He was then all ardor--all +impetuosity--all independence. The future presented a bright unclouded +prospect. Wealth, honors, and happiness apparently awaited him. It was +still the same exquisite scene, hushed, holy, tranquil--even solemn, as +upon that glorious night. The moon was out, silvering wood and water, +and shining on the white walls of the tranquil mansion. Nature was calm, +serene, peaceful as ever. Beneath the trees, he saw the bounding +deer--upon the water, the misty wreaths of vapor--all, all was dreamy, +delightful, soothing, all save his heart--_there_ was the +conflict--_there_ the change. Was it a troubled dream, with the dark +oppression of which he was struggling, or was it stern, waking, actual +life? That moment's review of his wild career was terrible. He saw to +what extremes his ungovernable passions had hurried him; he saw their +inevitable consequences; he saw also his own fate; but he rushed madly +on. + +He swept round the park, keeping under the covert of the wood, till he +arrived at the avenue leading to the mansion. The stems of the aged +limes gleamed silvery white in the moonshine. Luke drew in the rein +beneath one of the largest of the trees. + +"A branch has fallen," said he, as his grandsire joined him. + +"Ha!" exclaimed Alan, "a branch from that tree?" + +"It bodes ill to Ranulph," whispered Luke, "does it not?" + +"Perchance," muttered Alan. "'Tis a vast bough!" + +"We meet within an hour," said Luke, abruptly. + +"Within the tomb of our ancestry," replied Alan; "I will await you +there." + +And as he rode away, Alan murmured to himself the following verse from +one of his own ballads: + + But whether gale or calm prevail, or threatening cloud hath fled, + By hand of Fate, predestinate, a limb that tree will shed-- + A verdant bough, untouched, I trow, by axe or tempest's breath-- + To Rookwood's head an omen dread of fast approaching death. + + + + +_CHAPTER III_ + +_HANDASSAH_ + + I have heard it rumored for these many years, + None of our family dies but there is seen + The shape of an old woman, which is given + By tradition to us to have been murthered + By her nephews for her riches. Such a figure + One night, as the prince sat up late at 's book, + Appeared to him; when, crying out for help, + The gentleman of his chamber found his Grace + All in a cold sweat, altered much in face + And language, since which apparition + He hath grown worse and worse, and much I fear + He cannot live. + + _Duchess of Malfy._ + + +In one of those large antique rooms, belonging to the suite of +apartments constituting the eastern wing of Rookwood Place--upon the +same night as that in which the events just detailed took place, and it +might be about the same time, sat Eleanor, and her new attendant, the +gipsy Handassah. The eyes of the former were fixed, with a mixture of +tenderness and pity, upon the lineaments of another lovely female +countenance, bearing a striking resemblance to her own, though +evidently, from its attire, and bygone costume, not intended for her, +depicted upon a tablet, and placed upon a raised frame. It was nigh the +witching hour of night. The room was sombre and dusky, partially +dismantled of its once flowing arras, and the lights set upon the table +feebly illumined its dreary extent. Tradition marked it out as the +chamber in which many of the hapless dames of Rookwood had expired; and +hence Superstition claimed it as her peculiar domain. The room was +reputed to be haunted, and had for a long space shared the fate of +haunted rooms--complete desertion. It was now tenanted by one too young, +too pure, to fear aught unearthly. Eleanor seemed, nevertheless, +affected by the profound melancholy of the picture upon which she gazed. +At length, Handassah observed her start, and avert her eye shudderingly +from the picture. + +"Take it hence," exclaimed Eleanor; "I have looked at that image of my +ancestors, till it has seemed endowed with life--till its eyes have +appeared to return my gaze, and weep. Remove it, Handassah." + +Handassah silently withdrew the tablet, placing it against the wall of +the chamber. + +"Not there--not there," cried Eleanor; "turn it with its face to the +wall. I cannot bear those eyes. And now come hither, girl--draw +nearer--for I know not what of sudden dread has crossed me. This was +_her_ room, Handassah--the chamber of my ancestress--of all the Ladies +Rookwood--where they say----Ha! did you not hear a noise?--a rustle in +the tapestry--a footstep near the wall? Why, you look as startled as I +look, wench; stay by me--I will not have you stir from my side--'twas +mere fancy." + +"No doubt, lady," said Handassah, with her eyes fixed upon the arras. + +"Hist!" exclaimed Eleanor, "there 'tis again." + +"'Tis nothing," replied Handassah. But her looks belied her words. + +"Well, I will command myself," said Eleanor, endeavoring to regain her +calmness; "but the thoughts of the Lady Eleanor--for _she_ was an +Eleanor like to me, Handassah--and ah! even more ill-fated and +unhappy--have brought a whole train of melancholy fancies into my mind. +I cannot banish them: nay, though painful to me, I recur to these images +of dread with a species of fascination, as if in their fate I +contemplated mine own. Not one, who hath wedded a Rookwood, but hath +rued it." + +"Yet you will wed one," said Handassah. + +"He is not like the rest," said Eleanor. + +"How know you that, lady?" asked Handassah. "His time may not yet be +come. See what to-morrow will bring forth." + +"You are averse to my marriage with Ranulph, Handassah." + +"I was Sybil's handmaid ere I was yours, lady. I bear in mind a solemn +compact with the dead, which this marriage will violate. You are +plighted by oath to another, if he should demand your hand." + +"But he has not demanded it." + +"Would you accept him were he to do so?" asked Handassah, suddenly. + +"I meant not that," replied Eleanor. "My oath is annulled." + +"Say not so, lady," cried Handassah--"'twas not for this that Sybil +spared your life. I love you, but I loved Sybil, and I would see her +dying behests complied with." + +"It may not be, Handassah," replied Eleanor. "Why, from a phantom sense +of honor, am I to sacrifice my whole existence to one who neither can +love me, nor whom I myself could love? Am I to wed this man because, in +her blind idolatry of him, Sybil enforced an oath upon me which I had no +power to resist, and which was mentally cancelled while taken? Recall +not the horrors of that dreadful cell--urge not the subject more. 'Tis +in the hope that I may be freed for ever from this persecution that I +have consented thus early to wed with Ranulph. This will set Luke's +fancied claims at rest for ever." + +Handassah answered not, but bent her head, as if in acquiescence. + +Steps were now heard near the door, and a servant ushered in Dr. Small +and Mrs. Mowbray. + +"I am come to take leave of you for the night, my dear young lady," said +the doctor; "but before I start for the Vicarage, I have a word or two +to say, in addition to the advice you were so obliging as to receive +from me this morning. Suppose you allow your attendant to retire for a +few minutes. What I have got to say concerns yourself solely. Your +mother will bear us company. There," continued the doctor, as Handassah +was dismissed--"I am glad that dark-faced gipsy has taken her departure. +I can't say I like her sharp suspicious manner, and the first exercise I +should make at my powers, were I to be your husband, should be to +discharge the handmaiden. To the point of my visit. We are alone, I +think. This is a queer old house, Miss Mowbray; and this is the queerest +part of it. Walls have ears, they say; and there are so many holes and +corners in this mansion, that one ought never to talk secrets above +one's breath." + +"I am yet to learn, sir," said Eleanor, "that there is any secret to be +communicated." + +"Why, not much, I own," replied the doctor; "at least what has occurred +is no secret in the house by this time. What do you think _has_ +happened?" + +"It is impossible for me to conjecture. Nothing to Ranulph, I hope." + +"Nothing of consequence, I trust,--though he is part concerned with it." + +"What is it?" asked Eleanor. + +"Pray satisfy her curiosity, doctor," interposed Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Well, then," said Small, rather more gravely, "the fact of the matter +stands thus:--Lady Rookwood, who, as you know, was not the meekest wife +in the world, now turns out by no means the gentlest mother, and has +within this hour found out that she has some objection to your union +with her son." + +"You alarm me, doctor." + +"Don't alarm yourself at all. It will be got over without difficulty, +and only requires a little management. Ranulph is with her now, and I +doubt not will arrange all to her satisfaction." + +"What was her objection?" asked Eleanor; "was it any one founded upon my +obligation to Luke--my oath?" + +"Tut, tut! dismiss that subject from your mind entirely," said the +doctor. "That oath is no more binding on your conscience than would have +been the ties of marriage had you been wedded by yon recusant Romish +priest, Father Checkley, upon whose guilty head the Lord be merciful! +Bestow not a thought upon it. My anxiety, together with that of your +mother, is to see you now, as speedily as may be, wedded to Ranulph, and +then that idle question is set at rest for ever; and therefore, even if +such a thing were to occur as that Lady Rookwood should not yield her +consent to your marriage, as that consent is totally unnecessary, we +must go through the ceremonial without it." + +"The grounds of Lady Rookwood's objections----" said Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Ay, the grounds of her ladyship's objections," interposed Small, who, +when he had once got the lead, liked nobody to talk but himself, "are +simply these, and exactly the sort of objections one would expect her to +raise. She cannot bear the idea of abandoning the control of the house +and estates to other hands. She cannot, and will not relinquish her +station, as head of the establishment, which Ranulph has insisted upon +as your right. I thought, when I conversed with her on this subject, +that she was changed, but + + Naturam expellas furca, tamen usque recurret. + +I beg your pardon. She is, and always will be, the same." + +"Why did not Ranulph concede the point to her? I wish not to dwell here. +I care not for these domains--for this mansion. They have no charms for +me. I could be happy with Ranulph anywhere--happier anywhere than +here." + +The kind-hearted doctor squeezed her hand in reply, brushing a tear from +his eyes. + +"Why did he not concede it?" said Mrs. Mowbray, proudly. "Because the +choice remained not with him. It was not his to concede. This +house--these lands--all--all are yours; and it were poor requital, +indeed, if, after they have so long been wrongfully withheld from us, +you should be a dependant on Lady Rookwood." + +"Without going quite so far as that, madam," said the doctor, "it is but +justice to your daughter that she should be put in full possession of +her rights; nor should I for one instant advise, or even allow her to +inhabit the same house with Lady Rookwood. Her ladyship's peculiarities +of temper are such as to preclude all possibility of happiness. At the +same time, I trust by management--always by management, madam--that her +ladyship's quiet departure may be ensured. I understand that all such +legal arrangements in the way of settlements as could be entered into +between your daughter and her future husband are completed. I have only +to regret the absence of my friend, Mr. Coates, at this momentous +conjuncture. It will be a loss to him. But he inherits from his father a +taste for thief-taking, which he is at present indulging, to the +manifest injury of his legitimate practice. Hark! I hear Ranulph's step +in the gallery. He will tell us the result of his final interview. I +came to give you advice, my dear," added the doctor in a low tone to +Eleanor; "but I find you need it not. 'Whoso humbleth himself, shall be +exalted.' I am glad you do not split upon the rock which has stranded +half your generation." + +At this moment Ranulph Rookwood entered the room, followed by Handassah, +who took her station at the back of the room, unperceived by the rest of +the party, whose attention was attracted by Ranulph's agitated manner. + +"What has happened?" asked Dr. Small and Mrs. Mowbray in the same +breath. + +Ranulph hesitated for a moment in his answer, during which space he +regarded Eleanor with the deepest anxiety, and seemed revolving within +himself how he could frame his reply in such way as should be least +painful to her feelings; while, with instinctive apprehension of coming +misfortune, Miss Mowbray eagerly seconded the inquiries of her friends. + +"It is with great pain," said he, at length, in a tone of despondency, +not unmingled with displeasure, "that I am obliged to descant upon the +infirmities of a parent, and to censure her conduct as severely as I may +do now. I feel the impropriety of such a step, and I would willingly +avoid it, could I do so in justice to my own feelings--and especially at +a moment like the present--when every hope of my life is fixed upon +uniting myself to you, dear Eleanor, by ties as near as my own to that +parent. But the interview which I have just had with Lady +Rookwood--bitter and heart-breaking as it has been--compels me to +reprobate her conduct in the strongest terms, as harsh, unjust, and +dishonorable; and if I could wholly throw off the son, as she avows she +has thrown off the mother, I should unhesitatingly pronounce it as +little short of----" + +"Dear Ranulph," said Eleanor, palpitating with apprehension, "I never +saw you so much moved." + +"Nor with so much reason," rejoined Ranulph. "For myself, I could endure +anything--but for _you_----" + +"And does your dispute relate to _me_?" asked Eleanor. "Is it for _my_ +sake you have braved your mother's displeasure? Is it because Lady +Rookwood is unwilling to resign the control of this house and these +lands to _me_, that you have parted in anger with her? Was this the +cause of your quarrel?" + +"It was the origin of it," replied Ranulph. + +"Mother," said Eleanor, firmly, to Mrs. Mowbray, "go with me to Lady +Rookwood's chamber." + +"Wherefore?" demanded Mrs. Mowbray. + +"Question me not, dear mother, or let me go alone." + +"Daughter, I guess your meaning," said Mrs. Mowbray, sternly. "You would +relinquish your claims in favor of Lady Rookwood. Is it not so?" + +"Since you oblige me to answer you, mother," said Eleanor, crimsoning, +"I must admit that you have guessed my meaning. To Lady Rookwood, as to +yourself, I would be a daughter as far as is consistent with my duty," +added she, blushing still more deeply, "but my first consideration shall +be my husband. And if Lady Rookwood can be content----But pray question +me not further--accompany me to her chamber." + +"Eleanor," interposed Ranulph, "dearest Eleanor, the sacrifice you would +make is unnecessary--uncalled for. You do not know my mother. She would +not, I grieve to say, appreciate the generosity of your motives. She +would not give you credit for your feelings. She would only resent your +visit as an intrusion." + +"My daughter comprehends you, sir," said Mrs. Mowbray, haughtily. "I +will take care that, in her own house, Miss Mowbray shall remain free +from insult." + +"Mother, dear mother," said Eleanor, "do not wilfully misunderstand +him." + +"You can be little aware, madam," said Ranulph, calmly, yet sadly, "how +much I have recently endured--how much of parental anger--how much of +parental malediction I have incurred, to save you and your daughter from +the indignity you apprehend. As I before said, you do not know my +mother; nor could it enter into any well-regulated imagination to +conceive the extremities to which the violence of her passion will, when +her schemes are thwarted, hurry her. The terms upon which you met +together will not escape your recollection; nor shall I need to recall +to your mind her haughtiness, her coldness. That coldness has since +ripened into distrust; and the match which she was at first all anxiety +to promote, she would now utterly set aside, were it in her power to do +so. Whence this alteration in her views has arisen, I have no means of +ascertaining; it is not my mother's custom to give a reason for her +actions, or her wishes: it is all-sufficient to express them. I have +perceived, as the time has drawn nigh for the fulfilment of my dearest +hopes, that her unwillingness has increased; until to-day, what had +hitherto been confined to hints, has been openly expressed, and absolute +objections raised. Such, however, is the peculiarity of her temper, that +I trusted, even at the eleventh hour, I should be able to work a change. +Alas! our last meeting was decisive. She commanded me to break off the +match. At once, and peremptorily, I refused. Pardon me, madam, pardon +me, dearest Eleanor, if I thus enter into particulars; it is absolutely +necessary I should be explicit. Enraged at my opposition to her wishes, +her fury became ungovernable. With appalling imprecations upon the +memory of my poor father, and upon _your_ father, madam, whose chief +offence in her eyes was, it seems, the disposition of his property to +Eleanor, she bade me be gone, and take her curses as my wedding portion. +Beneath this roof--beneath _her_ roof, she added--no marriage of mine +should e'er take place. I might go hence, or might stay, as I thought +fitting; but you and your daughter, whom she characterized as intruders, +should not remain another hour within her house. To this wild raving I +answered, with as much composure as I could command, that she entirely +mistook her own position, and that, so far from the odium of intrusion +resting with you, if applicable to any one, the term must necessarily +affix itself on those who, through ignorance, had for years unjustly +deprived the rightful owners of this place of their inheritance. Upon +this her wrath was boundless. She disowned me as her son; disclaimed all +maternal regard, and heaped upon my head a frightful malediction, at the +recollection of which I still tremble. I will spare you further details +of this dreadful scene. To me it is most distressing; for, however +firmly resolved I may be to pursue a line of conduct which every sound +principle within me dictates as the correct one, yet I cannot be +insensible to the awful responsibility I shall incur in bringing down a +mother's curse upon my head, nor to the jeopardy in which her own +excessive violence may place her." + +Mrs. Mowbray listened to Ranulph's explanation in haughty displeasure; +Eleanor with throbbing, tearful interest; Dr. Small, with mixed feelings +of anger and astonishment. + +"Lady Rookwood's conduct," said the doctor, "is--you must forgive me, my +dear Sir Ranulph, for using strong expressions--outrageous beyond all +precedent, and only excusable on the ground of insanity, to which I wish +it were possible we could attribute it. There is, however, too much +method in her madness to allow us to indulge any such notion; she is +shrewd, dangerous, and designing; and, since she has resolved to oppose +this match, she will leave no means untried to do so. I scarcely know +how to advise you under the circumstances--that is, if my advice were +asked." + +"Which I scarcely think it likely to be, sir," said Mrs. Mowbray, +coldly. "After what has occurred, _I_ shall think it my duty to break +off this alliance, which I have never considered to be so desirable that +its rupture will occasion me an instant's uneasiness." + +"A plague on all these Rookwoods!" muttered Small. "One would think all +the pride of the Prince of Darkness were centered in their bosoms. But, +madam," continued the benevolent doctor, "have you no consideration for +the feelings of your daughter, or for those of one who is no distant +relation to you--your nephew? Your son, Major Mowbray, is, if I mistake +not, most eager for this union to take place between his sister and his +friend." + +"My children have been accustomed to yield implicit obedience to my +wishes," said Mrs. Mowbray, "and Major Mowbray, I am sure, will see the +propriety of the step I am about to take. I am content, at least, to +abide by _his_ opinion." + +"Snubbed again!" mentally ejaculated the doctor, with a shrug of +despair. "It is useless attempting to work upon such impracticable +material." + +Ranulph remained mute, in an attitude of profound melancholy. An +eloquent interchange of glances had passed between him and Eleanor, +communicating to each the anxious state of the other's feelings. + +At this crisis the door was suddenly opened, and old Agnes, Lady +Rookwood's aged attendant, rushed into the room, and sank upon her knees +on the floor, her limbs shaking, her teeth chattering, and every feature +expressive of intense terror. Ranulph went instantly towards her to +demand the cause of her alarm. + +"No, let me pray," cried Agnes, as he took her hand in the attempt to +raise her; "let me pray while there is yet time--let the worthy doctor +pray beside me. Pray for an overladen soul, sir; pray heartily, as you +would hope for mercy yourself. Ah! little know the righteous of the +terrors of those that are beyond the pale of mercy. The Lord pardon me +my iniquities, and absolve _her_." + +"Whom do you mean?" asked Ranulph, in agitation. "You do not allude to +my mother?" + +"You have no longer a mother, young man," said Agnes, solemnly. + +"What!" exclaimed Ranulph, terror-stricken; "is she dead?" + +"She is gone." + +"Gone! How? Whither?" exclaimed all, their amazement increasing each +instant at the terror of the old woman, and the apparently terrible +occasion of it. + +"Speak!" exclaimed Ranulph; "but why do I loiter? my mother, perchance, +is dying--let me go." + +The old woman maintained her clutching grasp, which was strong and +convulsive as that of one struggling betwixt life and death. "It's of no +use, I tell you; it's all over," said she--"the dead are come--the dead +are come--and she is gone." + +"Whither?--whither?" + +"To the grave--to the tomb," said Agnes, in a deep and hollow tone, and +with a look that froze Ranulph's soul. "Listen to me, Ranulph Rookwood, +my child, my nursling--listen while I _can_ speak. We were alone, your +mother and I, after that scene between you; after the dark denunciations +she had heaped upon the dead, when I heard a low and gasping kind of +sob, and there I saw your mother staring wildly upon the vacancy, as if +she saw that of which I dare not think." + +"What think you she beheld?" asked Ranulph, quaking with apprehension. + +"That which had been your father," returned Agnes, in a hollow tone. +"Don't doubt me, sir--you'll find the truth of what I say anon. I am +sure he was there. There was a thrilling, speechless horror in the very +sight of her countenance that froze my old blood to ice--to the ice in +which 'tis now--ough! ough! Well, at length she arose, with her eyes +still fixed, and passed through the paneled door without a word. She is +gone!" + +"What madness is this?" cried Ranulph. "Let me go, woman--'tis that +ruffian in disguise--she may be murdered." + +"No, no," shrieked Agnes; "it was no disguise. She is gone, I tell +you--the room was empty, all the rooms were empty--the passage was +void--through the door they went together--silently, silently--ghostlike, +slow. Ha! that tomb--they are there together now--he has her in his +arms--see, they are here--they glide through the door--do you not see +them now? Did I not speak the truth? She is dead--ha, ha!" And with a +frantic and bewildering laugh the old woman fell upon her face. + +Ranulph raised her from the floor; but the shock of what she had beheld +had been too much for her. She was dead! + + + + +_CHAPTER IV_ + +_THE DOWER OF SYBIL_ + + _Card._ Now art thou come? Thou look'st ghastly; + There sits in thy face some great determination, + Mixed with some fear. + + _Bos._ Thus it lightens into action: + I am come to kill thee. + + _Duchess of Malfy._ + + +Ranulph Rookwood was for some moments so much stunned by the ghastly +fate of Agnes, connected, as it appeared to be, with a supernatural +summons similar to that which he imagined he had himself received, that +he was incapable of stirring from the spot, or removing his gaze from +the rigid features of the corpse, which, even in death, wore the strong +impress of horror and despair. Through life he knew that Agnes, his own +nurse, had been his mother's constant and faithful attendant; the +unhesitating agent of her schemes, and it was to be feared, from the +remorse she had exhibited, the participator of her crimes; and Ranulph +felt, he knew not why, that in having witnessed her terrible end, he +beheld the ultimate condition of his own parent. Conquering, not without +great effort, the horror which had riveted him to the spot, he turned to +look towards Eleanor. She had sunk upon a chair, a silent witness of the +scene, Mrs. Mowbray and Dr. Small having, upon the first alarm given by +Agnes respecting Lady Rookwood's departure from the house quitted the +room to ascertain the truth of her statement. Ranulph immediately flew +to Eleanor. + +"Ranulph," said she, though almost overcome by her alarm, "stay not an +instant here with me. I am sure, from that poor woman's dreadful death, +that something terrible has occurred, perhaps to Lady Rookwood. Go to +her chamber. Tarry not, I entreat of you." + +"But will you, can you remain here alone with that body?" asked Ranulph. + +"I shall not be alone. Handassah is within call--nay, she is here. Oh, +what an eve of our espousals has this been, dear Ranulph. Our whole life +is a troubled volume, of which each successive leaf grows darker. Fate +is opposed to us. It is useless to contend with our destiny. I fear we +shall never be united." + +"Dismiss me not with words like those, dear Eleanor," returned Ranulph. +"Fate cannot have greater woes in store for us than those by which we +are now opposed. Let us hope that we are now at that point whence all +must brighten. Once possessed of you, assured of thus much happiness, I +would set even fate at defiance. And you will be mine to-morrow." + +"Ranulph, dear Ranulph, your suit at this moment is desperate. I dare +not, cannot pledge myself. You yourself heard, even now, my mother's +sentiments, and I cannot marry without her consent." + +"Your mother, like my own, regards not the feelings of her children. +Forgive my boldness, Eleanor; forgive me if I linger now, when duty +calls me hence; but I cannot tear myself away. Your mother may +return--my hopes be crushed; for even your love for me seems annihilated +in her presence." + +"Ranulph, your vehemence terrifies me," rejoined Eleanor. "I implore +you, by the tender affection which you know I bear you, not to urge me +further at this moment. Recall your firmer feelings, and obtain some +mastery over yourself. I repeat, I am yours only, if I am bride of any +one. But when our union can take place rests not with myself. And now, I +entreat of you, leave me." + +"You are mine," said Ranulph, with fervor; "mine only." + +"Yours only," replied Eleanor. + +"Be this the earnest of my happiness!" exclaimed Ranulph, imprinting a +long and impassioned kiss upon her lips. + +The lovers were startled from their embrace by a profound sigh; it +proceeded from Handassah, who, unbidden, had replaced the picture of the +Lady Eleanor upon its frame. The augury seemed sinister. Every one who +has gazed steadfastly upon a portrait must have noticed the peculiar and +lifelike character which, under certain aspects, the eyes will assume. +Seen by the imperfect light upon the table, the whole character of the +countenance of the Lady Eleanor seemed changed; the features appeared to +be stamped with melancholy, and the eyes to be fixed with pitying +tenderness upon her descendants. Both gazed at each other and at the +picture, struck with the same sentiment of undefined awe. Beside them +stood the dark figure of the gipsy girl, watching, with ill-concealed +satisfaction, the effect of her handiwork. Ranulph was aroused from his +abstraction by hearing a loud outcry in Mrs. Mowbray's voice. Hastily +committing Eleanor to the care of her attendant, he left the room. +Handassah followed him to the door, closed it after him, and then locked +it within side. This done, she walked back hastily towards Eleanor, +exclaiming, in a tone of exultation, "You have parted with him forever." + +"What mean you, girl?" cried Eleanor, alarmed at her manner. "Why have +you fastened the door? Open it, I command you." + +"Command _me_!" laughed Handassah, scornfully. "What if I refuse your +mandate? What, if, in my turn, I bid _you_ obey _me_? I never owned but +one mistress. If I have bowed my neck to you for a time, 'twas to fulfil +her dying wishes. If I have submitted to your control, it was to +accomplish what I have now accomplished. Your oath! Remember your oath. +The hour is come for its fulfilment." + +With these words Handassah clapped her hands. A panel in the wall +opened, and Luke stood suddenly before them. Silently and with stern +deliberation he strode towards Eleanor, and seizing one of her hands, +drew her forcibly towards him. Eleanor resisted not; she had not the +power; neither did she scream, for so paralyzing was her terror, that +for the moment it took away all power of utterance. Luke neither stirred +nor spoke, but, still maintaining his hold, gazed searchingly upon her +features, while Eleanor, as if spell-bound, could not withdraw her eyes +from him. Nothing more terribly impressive could be conceived than +Luke's whole appearance. Harassed and exhausted by the life he had +recently led; deprived almost of natural rest; goaded by remorse, his +frame was almost worn to the bone, while his countenance, once dark and +swarthy, was now blanched and colorless as marble. This pallid and +deathlike hue was, in all probability, owing to the loss of blood he had +sustained from the wound inflicted by Major Mowbray, with the stains of +which his apparel was dyed; for, though staunched, the effusion had been +sufficient to cause great faintness. His dark eyes blazed with their +wonted fire--nay, they looked darker and larger from his exceeding +paleness, and such intense mental and bodily suffering was imprinted +upon his countenance, that, despite its fierceness and desperation, few +could have regarded him without sympathy. Real desperation has so much +of agony in its character, that no one can witness it unmoved. His garb +was not that in which the reader first beheld him, but a rich, dark, +simple suit of velvet, corresponding more with his real rank in life +than his former peasant's attire; but it was disordered by his recent +conflict, and stained with bloody testimonials of the fray; while his +long, sable curls, once his pride and ornament, now hung in intertangled +elf-locks, like a coil of wreathed water-snakes. Even in her terror, as +she dwelt upon his noble features, Eleanor could not help admitting that +she beheld the undoubted descendant, and the living likeness of the +handsomest and most distinguished of her house--the profligate and +criminal Sir Reginald. As her eye, mechanically following this train of +thought, wandered for an instant to the haughty portraiture of Sir +Reginald, which formed part of the family pictures, and thence to those +of his unfortunate lady, she was struck with the fancy that, by some +terrible fatality, the tragic horrors of bygone days were to be again +enacted in their persons, and that they were in some way strangely +identified with their unfortunate progenitors. So forcibly was this idea +impressed upon her features that Luke, who had followed the direction of +her glances, became instantly aware of it. Drawing her nearer to the +portrait of the Lady Eleanor, he traced the resemblance in mute wonder; +thence, turning towards that of Sir Reginald, he proudly exclaimed: "You +doubted once my lineage, maiden--can you gaze on those features, which +would almost seem to be a reflection of mine own, and longer hesitate +whose descendant I am? I glory in my likeness. There is a wild delight +in setting human emotions at naught, which he was said to feel--which I +feel now. Within these halls I seem to breathe an atmosphere congenial +to me. I visit what I oft have visited in my dreams; or as in a state of +pre-existence. Methinks, as I gaze on you, I could almost deem myself +Sir Reginald, and you his bride, the Lady Eleanor. Our fates were +parallel: _she_ was united to her lord by ties of hatred--by a _vow_--_a +bridal vow_! So are you to me. And she could ne'er escape him--could +ne'er throw off her bondage--nor shall you. I claim the fulfilment of +_your_ oath; you are _mine_." + +"Never, never!" shrieked Eleanor, struggling to disengage herself. But +Luke laughed at her feeble efforts. Handassah stood by, a passive +spectatress of the scene, with her arms folded upon her bosom. + +"You refuse compliance," said Luke, scornfully. "Have you no hopes of +Heaven, no fears of perdition, that you dare to violate your vow? +Bethink you of the awful nature of that obligation; of the life that was +laid down to purchase it; of the blood which will cry out for vengeance +'gainst the _murderess_, should you hesitate. By that blood-cemented +sacrament, I claim you as my own. You are mine." And he dragged her +towards the opening. + +Eleanor uttered a long and terrific scream. + +"Be silent, on your life," added he, searching for the dagger given to +him by Alan Rookwood, when, as his hand sought the weapon, Eleanor +escaped from his grasp, and fled towards the door. But Handassah had +anticipated her intention. The key was withdrawn from the lock, and the +wretched maiden vainly tried to open it. + +At this instant Turpin appeared at the sliding panel. + +"Quick, quick!" cried he, impatiently--"despatch, in the devil's name. +The house is alarmed. I hear young Ranulph's voice in the gallery." + +"Ranulph!" shrieked Eleanor--"then I am saved," and she redoubled her +outcries for assistance. + +Luke again seized his victim. Her hands clutched so convulsively fast in +her despairing energy against the handle of the door that he could not +tear her thence. By this time Ranulph Rookwood, who had caught her +reiterated screams for help, was at the entrance. He heard her +struggles; he heard Luke's threats--his mockery--his derisive +laughter--but vainly, vainly did he attempt to force it open. It was of +the strongest oak, and the bolts resisted all his efforts. A board alone +divided him from his mistress. He could hear her sobs and gasps. He saw, +from the action of the handle, with what tenacity she clung to it; and, +stung to frenzy by the sight, he hurled himself against the sturdy +plank, but all in vain. At length the handle was still. There was a +heavy fall upon the floor--a stifled scream--and a sound as of a body +being dragged along. The thought was madness. + +"To the panel! to the panel!" cried a voice--it was that of Turpin--from +within. + +"The panel!--ha!" echoed Ranulph, with a sudden gleam of hope. "I may +yet save her." And he darted along the corridor with the swiftness of +thought. + +Luke, meanwhile, had for some minutes fruitlessly exhausted all his +force to drag Eleanor from the door. Despair gave her strength; she +clutched at the door; but she felt her strength failing her--her grasp +was relaxing. And then the maddening thought that she would be shortly +his--that he would slay her--while the idea that Ranulph was so near, +and yet unable to protect her, added gall even to her bitterness. With +savage delight Luke exulted in the lovers' tortures. He heard Ranulph's +ineffectual attempts; he heard his groans; he heard their mutual cries. +Inflamed by jealousy, he triumphed in his power of vengeance, and even +prolonged the torture which accident had given him the means of +inflicting. He stood like the inquisitor who marks his victim's anguish +on the rack, and calculates his powers of further endurance. But he +could no longer dally, even with this horrible gratification. His +companion grew impatient. Eleanor's fair long tresses had escaped from +their confinement in the struggle, and fell down her neck in disorder. +Twining his fingers amidst its folds, Luke dragged her backwards from +her hold, and, incapable of further resistance, her strength completely +exhausted, the wretched girl fell to the ground. + +Luke now raised her almost inanimate form in his arms, and had nigh +reached the aperture, when a crash was heard in the panel opposite to +that by which he was about to escape, and communicating with a further +apartment. It was thrown open, and Ranulph Rookwood presented himself at +the narrow partition. An exclamation of joy, that he was yet in time, +escaped his lips; and he was about to clear the partition at a bound, +and to precipitate himself upon Luke, when, as suddenly as his own +action, was the person of the unfortunate Mr. Coates wedged into the +aperture. + +"Traitor!" cried Ranulph, regarding Coates with concentrated fury, "dare +you to oppose me?--hence! or, by Heaven, I will cut you down!" + +"'Tis impossible," ejaculated the attorney. "For your own sake, Sir +Ranulph--for my sake--I entreat--implore of you--not to attempt to pass +this way. Try the other door." + +Ranulph said no more. He passed his sword through the body of the +miserable attorney, who, with a deep groan, fell. The only obstacle to +his passage being thus removed, he at once leaped into the room. + +The brothers were now confronted, together, but little of brotherly love +mingled with the glances which they threw upon each other. Ranulph's +gentle, but withal enthusiastic temperament, had kindled, under his +present excitement, like flax at the sudden approach of flame. He was +wild with frenzy. Luke was calmer, but his fury was deadly and +inextinguishable. The meeting was terrible on both sides. + +With one arm Luke enfolded Eleanor, with the other he uplifted the +dagger. Its point was towards her bosom. Scowling grim defiance at +Ranulph, he exclaimed, in a determined tone, "Advance a footstep, and my +dagger descends into her heart." + +Ranulph hesitated, uncertain how to act; foaming with rage, yet +trembling with apprehension. + +"Ranulph," gasped Eleanor, "life without you were valueless. +Advance--avenge me!" + +Ranulph still hesitated. He could not, by any act of his own, compromise +Eleanor's safety. + +Luke saw his advantage, and was not slow to profit by it. "You seal her +destruction if you stir," said he. + +"Villain," returned Ranulph, between his ground teeth, and with +difficulty commanding sufficient coolness to speak with deliberation, +"you perceive your power. Injure her, and nothing earthly shall protect +you. Free her, and take your life and liberty; nay, reward if you will. +You cannot otherwise escape me." + +"Escape you!" laughed Luke, disdainfully. "Stand aside, and let me pass. +Beware," added he, sternly, "how you oppose me. I would not have a +brother's blood upon my soul." + +"Nor I," cried Ranulph; "but you pass not." And he placed himself full +in Luke's path. + +Luke, however, steadily moved forward, holding Eleanor between himself +and Ranulph, so as to shield his own person; but, fancying he saw an +opportunity of dealing a blow without injury to his mistress, the latter +was about to hazard the thrust, when his arms were seized behind, and he +was rendered powerless. + +"Lost, lost," groaned he; "she is lost to me forever!" + +"I fear that's but too true," said Turpin, for it was the highwayman +whose grasp confined Ranulph. + +"Must I see her borne away before my eyes?" cried Ranulph. "Release +me--set me free!" + +"Quite impossible at present," returned Dick. "Mount and away, Sir +Luke," continued he; "never mind me. Leave me to shift for myself." + +"Eleanor!" cried Ranulph, as she passed close by his side. + +"Ranulph!" shrieked Eleanor, with a loud scream, recalled to +consciousness by his voice, "farewell for ever." + +"Ay, for ever," responded Luke, triumphantly. "You meet no more on +earth." + +He was about to pass through the panel, when Eleanor exerted all her +remaining strength in a last futile attempt at liberation. In the +struggle, a packet fell from Luke's bosom. + +Handassah stooped to pick it up. + +"From Sybil!" exclaimed she, glancing at the superscription. + +"Remember my promise to old Barbara," roared Dick, who had some +curiosity, as the reader knows, to learn what the package contained. +"The time is arrived. Eleanor is in your power--in your presence." + +"Give me the packet," said Luke, resigning Eleanor for the instant to +Handassah's custody--"take the steel, and grasp her firmly." + +Handassah, who, though slight of figure, was of singular personal +strength, twined her arms about Miss Mowbray in such a manner as to +preclude all possibility of motion. + +Luke tore open the package. It was a box carefully enclosed in several +folds of linen, and lastly within a sheet of paper, on which were +inscribed these words: + + THE DOWER OF SYBIL + +Hastily, and with much curiosity, Luke raised the lid of the box. It +contained one long silken tress of blackest hair enviously braided. It +was Sybil's. His first impulse was to cast it from him; his next, +reproachfully to raise it to his lips. He started as if a snake had +stung him. + +At this moment a loud clamor was heard in the gallery. In the next, the +door was assailed by violent strokes, evidently proceeding from some +weighty instrument, impelled by the united strength of several +assailants. + +The voice of Turpin rose above the deafening din. "A bullet for the +first who enters," shouted he. "Quick, Sir Luke, and the prize is +safe--away, and----" + +But as he seconded his exhortation with a glance at Luke, he broke off +the half-uttered sentence, and started with horror and amazement. Ere +the cause of his alarm could be expressed, the door was burst open, and +a crowd of domestics, headed by Major Mowbray and Titus Tyrconnel, +rushed into the room. + +"Nay, then, the game's up!" exclaimed Dick; "I have done with Rookwood." +And, springing through the panel, he was seen no more. + +When the newcomers first looked round, they could perceive only two +figures besides themselves--those of the two lovers--Eleanor having +sunk pale, exhausted, and almost senseless, into the arms of Ranulph. +Presently, however, a ghastly object attracted their attention. All +rushed towards it--all recoiled, as soon as they discovered that it was +the lifeless body of Luke Rookwood. His limbs were stiff, like those of +a corpse which has for hours been such; his eyes protruded from their +sockets; his face was livid and blotched. All bespoke, with terrible +certainty, the efficacy of the poison, and the full accomplishment of +Barbara's revenge. + +Handassah was gone. Probably she had escaped ere Turpin fled. At all +events, she was heard of no more at Rookwood. + +It required little to recall the senses of Eleanor. Shortly she revived, +and as she gazed around, and became conscious of her escape, she uttered +exclamations of thanksgiving, and sank into the embraces of her brother. + +Meanwhile, Mrs. Mowbray and Dr. Small had joined the assemblage. + +The worthy doctor had been full of alarm; but his meditated condolences +were now changed to congratulations, as he heard the particulars of the +terrible scene that had occurred, and of Eleanor's singular and almost +providential deliverance. + +"After what has befallen, madam," said the doctor to Mrs. Mowbray, +slightly coughing, "you can no longer raise any objection to a certain +union, eh?" + +"I will answer for my mother in that particular," said Major Mowbray, +stepping forward. + +"She will answer for herself, my son," said Mrs. Mowbray. "The match has +her full and entire consent. But to what am I to attribute the +unexpected happiness of your return?" + +"To a chain of singular circumstances," replied the Major, "which I will +hereafter detail to you. Suffice it to say, that but for this +gentleman's fortunate arrival," added he, looking at Titus Tyrconnel, +"at the hut on Thorne Waste, I might have been detained a prisoner, +without _parole_, and, what is worse, without provision perhaps for +days; and to add to my distress, fully acquainted with the meditated +abduction of my sister. It was excessively lucky for me, Mr. Tyrconnel, +that you happened to pass that way, and for poor Paterson likewise." + +"Arrah, by my sowl, major, and you may say that with safety; and it was +particularly fortunate that we stumbled upon the tits in the cellar, or +we'd never have been here just in the nick of it. I begin to think we've +lost all chance of taking Dick Turpin this time. He's got clean away." + +"I am not sorry for his escape," said the major. "He's a brave fellow; +and I respect courage wherever I find it, even in a highwayman. I should +be sorry to appear as a witness against him; and I trust it will never +be my fate to do so." + +We shall not pause to describe the affectionate meeting which now ensued +between the brother and sister--the congratulations upon Eleanor's +escape from peril, intermingled with the tenderest embraces, and the +warmest thanks offered to Ranulph for his gallant service. "She is +yours, my dear boy," said the major; "and though you are a Rookwood, and +she bears the ill-fated name of Eleanor, I predict that, contrary to the +usual custom of our families in such cases, all your misfortunes will +have occurred _before_ marriage." + +"There is only one thing," said Small, with a very peculiar expression, +which might almost be construed into serio-comic, could we suspect the +benevolent doctor of any such waggery, "that can possibly throw a shade +over our present felicity. Lady Rookwood is not to be found." + +"My poor mother," said Ranulph, starting. + +"Make yourself easy," said the doctor; "I doubt not we shall hear of her +to-morrow. My only apprehension," added he, half aside, "is, that she +may be heard of before." + +"One other circumstance afflicts me," said Ranulph. "Poor Mr. Coates!" + +"What's that you say of Mr. Coates, Sir Ranulph?" exclaimed Titus. + +"I fear he was killed in the recent affray," said Ranulph. "Let some one +search for the body." + +"Kilt!" echoed Titus. "Is it kilt that Mr. Coates is? Ah! _ullagone_, +and is it over with him entirely? Is he gone to rejoin his father, the +thief-taker? Bring me to his remains." + +"He will bring them to you himself," said the attorney, stepping +forward. "Luckily, Sir Ranulph," said the incurable punster, "it was +merely the _outer coats_ that your sword passed through; the _inner_ +remains uninjured, so that you did not act as my _conveyancer_ to +eternity. Body o' me! I've as many lives as a cat--ha, ha!" + +Ranulph welcomed the facetious man of law with no little satisfaction. + +We think it unnecessary to enter into further detail. Another chamber +was prepared for Eleanor's reception, to which she was almost +immediately transported. The remains of the once fierce and haughty +Luke, now stiff and stark, but still wearing, even in death, their proud +character, were placed upon the self-same bier, and covered with the +self-same pall which, but a week ago, had furnished forth his father's +funeral. And as the domestics crowded round the corpse, there was not +one of them but commented upon his startling resemblance to his +grandsire, Sir Reginald; nor, amongst the superstitious, was the falling +of the fatal bough forgotten. + +Tranquillity was at length restored at the hall. Throughout the night +and during the next day, Ranulph made every search for his mother, but +no tidings could be learned of her. Seriously alarmed, he then caused +more strict and general inquiry to be instituted, but with like +unsuccessful effect. It was not, indeed, till some years afterwards that +her fate was ascertained. + + + + +_CHAPTER V_ + +_THE SARCOPHAGUS_ + + So now 'tis ended, like an old wife's story.--WEBSTER. + + +Notwithstanding the obscurity which hung over the fate of Lady Rookwood, +the celebration of the nuptials of Sir Ranulph and Eleanor was not long +delayed; the ceremony took place at the parish church, and the worthy +vicar officiated upon the occasion. It was a joyous sight to all who +witnessed it, and not few were they who did so, for the whole +neighborhood was bidden to the festival. The old avenue was thronged +with bright and beaming faces, rustic maidens decked out in ribbons of +many-colored splendor, and stout youths in their best holiday trim; nor +was the lusty yeoman and his buxom spouse--nor yet the patriarch of the +village, nor prattling child, wanting. Even the ancestral rooks seemed +to participate in the universal merriment, and returned, from their +eyries, a hoarse greeting, like a lusty chorus of laughter, to the +frolic train. The churchyard path was strewn with flowers--the church +itself a complete garland. Never was there seen a blither wedding: the +sun smiled upon the bride--accounted a fortunate omen, as dark lowering +skies and stormy weather had, within the memory of the oldest of the +tenantry, inauspiciously ushered in all former espousals. The bride had +recovered her bloom and beauty, while the melancholy which had seemingly +settled for ever upon the open brow of the bridegroom, had now given +place to a pensive shade that only added interest to his expressive +features; and, as in simple state, after the completion of the sacred +rites, the youthful pair walked, arm in arm, amongst their thronging and +admiring tenants towards the Hall, many a fervent prayer was breathed +that the curse of the house of Rookwood might be averted from their +heads; and, not to leave a doubt upon the subject, we can add that these +aspirations were not in vain, but that the day, which dawned so +brightly, was one of serene and unclouded happiness to its close. + +After the ceremonial, the day was devoted to festivity. Crowded with +company, from the ample hall to the kitchen ingle, the old mansion could +scarce contain its numerous guests, while the walls resounded with +hearty peals of laughter, to which they had been long unaccustomed. The +tables groaned beneath the lordly baron of beef, the weighty chine, the +castled pasty flanked on the one hand with neat's tongue, and on the +other defended by a mountainous ham, an excellent _piece de resistance_, +and every other substantial appliance of ancient hospitality. Barrels of +mighty ale were broached, and their nut-brown contents widely +distributed, and the health of the bride and bridegroom was +enthusiastically drunk in a brimming wassail cup of spicy wine with +floating toast. Titus Tyrconnel acted as master of the ceremonies, and +was, Mr. Coates declared, "_quite in his element_." So much was he +elated, that he ventured to cut some of his old jokes upon the vicar, +and, strange to say, without incurring the resentment of Small. + +To retrace the darker course of our narrative, we must state that some +weeks before this happy event the remains of the unfortunate Sir Luke +Rookwood had been gathered to those of his fathers. The document that +attested his legitimacy being found upon his person, the claims denied +to him in life were conceded in death; and he was interred, with all the +pomp and peculiar solemnity proper to one of the house, within the tomb +of his ancestry. + +It was then that a discovery was made respecting Alan Rookwood, in order +to explain which we must again revert to the night of the meditated +_enlevement_ of Eleanor. + +After quitting his grandson in the avenue, Alan shaped his course among +the fields in the direction to the church. He sought his own humble, +but now deserted dwelling. The door had been forced; some of its meagre +furniture was removed; and the dog, his sole companion, had fled. "Poor +Mole!" said he, "thou hast found, I trust, a better master." And having +possessed himself of what he came in search--namely, a bunch of keys and +his lantern, deposited in an out-of-the-way cupboard, that had escaped +notice, he quickly departed. + +He was once more within the churchyard; once more upon that awful stage +whereon he had chosen to enact, for a long season, his late fantastical +character; and he gazed upon the church tower, glistening in the +moonshine, the green and undulating hillocks, the "chequered +cross-sticks," the clustered headstones, and the black and portentous +yew-trees, as upon "old familiar faces." He mused, for a few moments, +upon the scene, apparently with deep interest. He then walked beneath +the shadows of one of the yews, chanting an odd stanza or so of one of +his wild staves, wrapped the while, it would seem, in affectionate +contemplation of the subject-matter of his song: + + THE CHURCHYARD YEW + + ---- Metuendaque succo + Taxus. + + STATIUS. + + A noxious tree is the churchyard yew, + As if from the dead its sap it drew; + Dark are its branches, and dismal to see, + Like plumes at Death's latest solemnity. + Spectral and jagged, and black as the wings + Which some spirit of ill o'er a sepulchre flings: + Oh! a terrible tree is the churchyard yew; + Like it is nothing so grimly to view. + + Yet this baleful tree hath a core so sound, + Can nought so tough in the grove be found; + From it were fashioned brave English bows, + The boast of our isle, and the dread of its foes. + For our sturdy sires cut their stoutest staves + From the branch that hung o'er their fathers' graves; + And though it be dreary and dismal to view, + Staunch at the heart is the churchyard yew. + +His ditty concluded, Alan entered the churchyard, taking care to leave +the door slightly ajar, in order to facilitate his grandson's entrance. +For an instant he lingered in the chancel. The yellow moonlight fell +upon the monuments of his race; and, directed by the instinct of hate, +Alan's eye rested upon the gilded entablature of his perfidious brother, +Reginald, and, muttering curses, "not loud but deep," he passed on. +Having lighted his lantern in no tranquil mood, he descended into the +vault, observing a similar caution with respect to the portal of the +cemetery, which he left partially unclosed, with the key in the lock. +Here he resolved to abide Luke's coming. The reader knows what +probability there was of his expectations being realized. + +For a while he paced the tomb, wrapped in gloomy meditation, and +pondering, it might be, upon the result of Luke's expedition, and the +fulfilment of his own dark schemes, scowling from time to time beneath +his bent eyebrows, counting the grim array of coffins, and noticing, +with something like satisfaction, that the shell which contained the +remains of his daughter had been restored to its former position. He +then bethought him of Father Checkley's midnight intrusion upon his +conference with Luke, and their apprehension of a supernatural +visitation, and his curiosity was stimulated to ascertain by what means +the priest had gained admission to the spot unperceived and unheard. He +resolved to sound the floor, and see whether any secret entrance +existed; and hollowly and dully did the hard flagging return the stroke +of his heel as he pursued his scrutiny. At length the metallic ringing +of an iron plate, immediately behind the marble effigy of Sir Ranulph, +resolved the point. There it was that the priest had found access to +the vault; but Alan's disappointment was excessive, when he discovered +that the plate was fastened on the underside, and all communication +thence with the churchyard, or to wherever else it might conduct him, +cut off: but the present was not the season for further investigation, +and tolerably pleased with the discovery he had already made, he +returned to his silent march round the sepulchre. + +At length a sound, like the sudden shutting of the church door, broke +upon the profound stillness of the holy edifice. In the hush that +succeeded, a footstep was distinctly heard threading the aisle. + +"He comes--he comes!" exclaimed Alan, joyfully; adding, an instant +after, in an altered voice, "but he comes alone." + +The footstep drew near to the mouth of the vault--it was upon the +stairs. Alan stepped forward to greet, as he supposed, his grandson, but +started back in astonishment and dismay as he encountered in his stead +Lady Rookwood. Alan retreated, while the lady advanced, swinging the +iron door after her, which closed with a tremendous clang. Approaching +the statue of the first Sir Ranulph, she paused, and Alan then remarked +the singular and terrible expression of her eyes, which appeared to be +fixed upon the statue, or upon some invisible object near it. There was +something in her whole attitude and manner calculated to impress the +deepest terror on the beholder. And Alan gazed upon her with an awe +which momently increased. Lady Rookwood's bearing was as proud and erect +as we have formerly described it to have been--her brow was haughtily +bent--her chiselled lip as disdainfully curled; but the staring, +changeless eye, and the deep-heaved sob which occasionally escaped her, +betrayed how much she was under the influence of mortal terror. Alan +watched her in amazement. He knew not how the scene was likely to +terminate, nor what could have induced her to visit this ghostly spot at +such an hour, and alone; but he resolved to abide the issue in +silence--profound as her own. After a time, however, his impatience got +the better of his fears and scruples, and he spoke. + +"What doth Lady Rookwood in the abode of the dead?" asked he, at length. + +She started at the sound of his voice, but still kept her eye fixed upon +the vacancy. + +"Hast thou not beckoned me hither, and am I not come?" returned she, in +a hollow tone. "And now thou asketh wherefore I am here--I am here +because, as in thy life I feared thee not, neither in death do I fear +thee. I am here because----" + +"What seest thou?" interrupted Peter, with ill-suppressed terror. + +"What see I--ha--ha!" shouted Lady Rookwood, amidst discordant laughter; +"that which might appal a heart less stout than mine--a figure +anguish-writhen, with veins that glow as with a subtle and consuming +flame. A substance yet a shadow, in thy living likeness. Ha--frown if +thou wilt; I can return thy glances." + +"Where dost thou see this vision?" demanded Alan. + +"Where!" echoed Lady Rookwood, becoming for the first time sensible of +the presence of a stranger. "Ha--who are you that question me?--what are +you?--speak!" + +"No matter who or what I am," returned Alan, "I ask you what you +behold." + +"Can you see nothing?" + +"Nothing," replied Alan. + +"You knew Sir Piers Rookwood?" + +"Is it he?" asked Alan, drawing near her. + +"It is," replied Lady Rookwood; "I have followed him hither, and I will +follow him whithersoever he leads me, were it to----" + +"What doth he now?" asked Alan; "do you see him still?" + +"The figure points to that sarcophagus," returned Lady Rookwood--"can +you raise up the lid?" + +"No," replied Alan; "my strength will not avail to lift it." + +"Yet let the trial be made," said Lady Rookwood; "the figure points +there still--my own arm shall aid you." + +Alan watched her in dumb wonder. She advanced towards the marble +monument, and beckoned him to follow. He reluctantly complied. Without +any expectation of being able to move the ponderous lid of the +sarcophagus, at Lady Rookwood's renewed request he applied himself to +the task. What was his surprise, when, beneath their united efforts, he +found the ponderous slab slowly revolve upon its vast hinges, and, with +little further difficulty, it was completely elevated; though it still +required the exertion of all Alan's strength to prop it open, and +prevent its falling back. + +"What does it contain?" asked Lady Rookwood. + +"A warrior's ashes," returned Alan. + +"There is a rusty dagger upon a fold of faded linen," cried Lady +Rookwood, holding down the light. + +"It is the weapon with which the first dame of the house of Rookwood was +stabbed," said Alan, with a grim smile: + + "Which whoso findeth in the tomb + Shall clutch until the hour of doom; + And when 'tis grasped by hand of clay, + The curse of blood shall pass away. + +So saith the rhyme. Have you seen enough?" + +"No," said Lady Rookwood, precipitating herself into the marble coffin. +"That weapon shall be mine." + +"Come forth--come forth," cried Alan. "My arm trembles--I cannot support +the lid." + +"I will have it, though I grasp it to eternity," shrieked Lady Rookwood, +vainly endeavoring to wrest away the dagger, which was fastened, +together with the linen upon which it lay, by some adhesive substance +to the bottom of the shell. + +At this moment Alan Rookwood happened to cast his eye upward, and he +then beheld what filled him with new terror. The axe of the sable statue +was poised above its head, as in the act to strike him. Some secret +machinery, it was evident, existed between the sarcophagus lid and this +mysterious image. But in the first impulse of his alarm Alan abandoned +his hold of the slab, and it sunk slowly downwards. He uttered a loud +cry as it moved. Lady Rookwood heard this cry. She raised herself at the +same moment--the dagger was in her hand--she pressed it against the lid, +but its downward force was too great to be withstood. The light was +within the sarcophagus, and Alan could discern her features. The +expression was terrible. She uttered one shriek and the lid closed for +ever. + +Alan was in total darkness. The light had been enclosed with Lady +Rookwood. There was something so horrible in her probable fate, that +even _he_ shuddered as he thought upon it. Exerting all his remaining +strength, he essayed to raise the lid, but now it was more firmly closed +than ever. It defied all his power. Once, for an instant, he fancied +that it yielded to his straining sinews, but it was only his hand that +slided upon the surface of the marble. It was fixed--immovable. The +sides and lid rang with the strokes which the unfortunate lady bestowed +upon them with the dagger's point; but those sounds were not long heard. +Presently all was still; the marble ceased to vibrate with her blows. +Alan struck the lid with his knuckles, but no response was returned. All +was silent. + +He now turned his attention to his own situation, which had become +sufficiently alarming. An hour must have elapsed, yet Luke had not +arrived. The door of the vault was closed--the key was in the lock, and +on the outside. He was himself a prisoner within the tomb. What if Luke +should _not_ return? What if he were slain, as it might chance, in the +enterprise? That thought flashed across his brain like an electric +shock. None knew of his retreat but his grandson. He might perish of +famine within this desolate vault. + +He checked this notion as soon as it was formed--it was too dreadful to +be indulged in. A thousand circumstances might conspire to detain Luke. +He was sure to come. Yet the solitude--the darkness was awful, almost +intolerable. The dying and the dead were around him. He dared not stir. + +Another hour--an age it seemed to him--had passed. Still Luke came not. +Horrible forebodings crossed him; but he would not surrender himself to +them. He rose, and crawled in the direction, as he supposed, of the +door--fearful, even of the stealthy sound of his own footsteps. He +reached it, and his heart once more throbbed with hope. He bent his ear +to the key; he drew in his breath; he listened for some sound, but +nothing was to be heard. A groan would have been almost music in his +ears. + +Another hour was gone! He was now a prey to the most frightful +apprehensions, agitated in turns by the wildest emotions of rage and +terror. He at one moment imagined that Luke had abandoned him, and +heaped curses upon his head; at the next, convinced that he had fallen, +he bewailed with equal bitterness his grandson's fate and his own. He +paced the tomb like one distracted; he stamped upon the iron plate; he +smote with his hands upon the door; he shouted, and the vault hollowly +echoed his lamentations. But Time's sand ran on, and Luke arrived not. + +Alan now abandoned himself wholly to despair. He could no longer +anticipate his grandson's coming, no longer hope for deliverance. His +fate was sealed. Death awaited him. He must anticipate his slow but +inevitable stroke, enduring all the grinding horrors of starvation. The +contemplation of such an end was madness, but he was forced to +contemplate it now; and so appalling did it appear to his imagination, +that he half resolved to dash out his brains against the walls of the +sepulchre, and put an end at once to his tortures; and nothing, except a +doubt whether he might not, by imperfectly accomplishing his purpose, +increase his own suffering, prevented him from putting this dreadful +idea into execution. His dagger was gone, and he had no other weapon. +Terrors of a new kind now assailed him. The dead, he fancied, were +bursting from their coffins, and he peopled the darkness with grisly +phantoms. They were around about him on each side, whirling and +rustling, gibbering, groaning, shrieking, laughing, and lamenting. He +was stunned, stifled. The air seemed to grow suffocating, pestilential; +the wild laughter was redoubled; the horrible troop assailed him; they +dragged him along the tomb, and amid their howls he fell, and became +insensible. + +When he returned to himself, it was some time before he could collect +his scattered faculties; and when the agonizing consciousness of his +terrible situation forced itself upon his mind, he had nigh relapsed +into oblivion. He arose. He rushed towards the door; he knocked against +it with his knuckles till the blood streamed from them; he scratched +against it with his nails till they were torn off by the roots. With +insane fury he hurled himself against the iron frame; it was in vain. +Again he had recourse to the trap-door. He searched for it; he found it. +He laid himself upon the ground. There was no interval of space in which +he could insert a finger's point. He beat it with his clenched hand; he +tore it with his teeth; he jumped upon it; he smote it with his heel. +The iron returned a sullen sound. + +He again essayed the lid of the sarcophagus. Despair nerved his +strength. He raised the slab a few inches. He shouted, screamed, but no +answer was returned; and again the lid fell. + +"She is dead!" cried Alan. "Why have I not shared her fate? But mine is +to come. And such a death!--oh, oh!" And, frenzied at the thought, he +again hurried to the door, and renewed his fruitless attempts to +escape, till nature gave way, and he sank upon the floor, groaning and +exhausted. + +Physical suffering now began to take the place of his mental tortures. +Parched and consumed with a fierce internal fever, he was tormented by +unappeasable thirst--of all human ills the most unendurable. His tongue +was dry and dusty, his throat inflamed; his lips had lost all moisture. +He licked the humid floor; he sought to imbibe the nitrous drops from +the walls; but, instead of allaying his thirst, they increased it. He +would have given the world, had he possessed it, for a draught of cold +spring-water. Oh, to have died with his lips upon some bubbling +fountain's marge! But to perish thus----! + +Nor were the pangs of hunger wanting. He had to endure all the horrors +of famine, as well as the agonies of quenchless thirst. + +In this dreadful state three days and nights passed over Alan's fated +head. Nor night nor day had he. Time, with him, was only measured by its +duration, and that seemed interminable. Each hour added to his +suffering, and brought with it no relief. During this period of +prolonged misery reason often tottered on her throne. Sometimes he was +under the influence of the wildest passions. He dragged coffins from +their recesses, hurled them upon the ground, striving to break them open +and drag forth their loathsome contents. Upon other occasions he would +weep bitterly and wildly; and once--only once--did he attempt to pray; +but he started from his knees with an echo of infernal laughter, as he +deemed, ringing in his ears. Then, again, would he call down +imprecations upon himself and his whole line, trampling upon the pile of +coffins he had reared; and lastly, more subdued, would creep to the +boards that contained the body of his child, kissing them with a frantic +outbreak of affection. + +At length he became sensible of his approaching dissolution. To him the +thought of death might well be terrible, but he quailed not before it, +or rather seemed, in his latest moments, to resume all his wonted +firmness of character. Gathering together his remaining strength, he +dragged himself towards the niche wherein his brother, Sir Reginald +Rookwood, was deposited, and placing his hand upon the coffin, solemnly +exclaimed, "My curse--my dying curse--be upon thee evermore!" + +Falling with his face upon the coffin, Alan instantly expired. In this +attitude his remains were discovered. + + + + +_L'ENVOY_ + + +Our tale is told. Yet, perhaps, we may be allowed to add a few words +respecting two of the subordinate characters of our drama--melodrama we +ought to say--namely Jerry Juniper and the knight of Malta. What became +of the Caper Merchant's son after his flight from Kilburn Wells we have +never been able distinctly to ascertain. Juniper, however, would seem to +be a sort of Wandering Jew, for certain it is, that _somebody very like +him_ is extant still, and to be met with at Jerry's old haunts; indeed, +we have no doubt of encountering him at the ensuing meetings of Ascot +and Hampton. + +As regards the knight of Malta--Knight of _Roads_--"Rhodes"--he should +have been--we are sorry to state that the career of the Ruffler +terminated in a madhouse, and thus the poor knight became in reality a +_Hospitaller_! According to the custom observed in those establishments, +the knight was deprived of his luxuriant locks, and the loss of his +beard rendered his case incurable; but, in the mean time, the barber of +the place made his fortune by retailing the materials of all the black +wigs he could collect to the impostor's dupes. + +Such is the latest piece of intelligence that has reached us of the +_Arch-hoaxer_ of Canterbury! + +Turpin--why disguise it?--was hanged at York in 1739. His firmness +deserted him not at the last. When he mounted the fatal tree his left +leg trembled; he stamped it impatiently down, and, after a brief chat +with the hangman, threw himself suddenly and resolutely from the ladder. +His sufferings would appear to have been slight: as he himself sang, + + He died, not as other men, by _degrees_, + But _at once_, without wincing, and quite at his ease! + +We may, in some other place, lay before the reader the particulars--and +they are not incurious--of the "night before Larry was stretched." + +The remains of the vagrant highwayman found a final resting-place in the +desecrated churchyard of Saint George, without the Fishergate postern, a +green and grassy cemetery, but withal a melancholy one. A few recent +tombs mark out the spots where some of the victims of the pestilence of +1832-33 have been interred; but we have made vain search for Turpin's +grave--unless--as is more than probable--the plain stone with the simple +initials R. T. belongs to him. + +The gyves by which he was fettered are still shown at York Castle, and +are of prodigious weight and strength; and though the herculean robber +is said to have moved in them with ease, the present turnkey was +scarcely able to lift the ponderous irons. An old woman of the same city +has a lock of hair, said to have been Turpin's, which she avouches her +grandfather cut off from the body after the execution, and which the +believers look upon with great reverence. O rare Dick Turpin! + +We shall, perhaps, be accused of dilating too much upon the character of +the highwayman, and we plead guilty to the charge. But we found it +impossible to avoid running a little into extremes. Our earliest +associations are connected with sunny scenes in Cheshire, said to have +been haunted by Turpin; and with one very dear to us--from whose lips, +now, alas! silent, we have listened to many stories of his exploits--he +was a sort of hero. We have had a singular delight in recounting his +feats and hairbreadth escapes; and if the reader derives only half as +much pleasure from the perusal of his adventures as we have had in +narrating them, our satisfaction will be complete. Perhaps, we may have +placed him in too favorable a point of view--and yet we know not. As +upon those of more important personages, many doubts rest upon his +history. Such as we conceive him to have been, we have drawn him--hoping +that the benevolent reader, upon finishing our Tale, will arrive at the +same conclusion; and, in the words of the quaint old Prologue to the +Prince of Prigs' Revels, + + ------------Thank that man, + Can make each thief a complete Roscian! + + + + +NOTES + + +[1] See the celebrated recipe for the Hand of Glory in "_Les Secrets du +Petit Albert_." + +[2] The seven planets, so called by Mercurius Trismegistus. + +[3] Payne Knight, the scourge of Repton and his school, speaking of the +license indulged in by the modern landscape-gardeners, thus vents his +indignation: + + But here, once more, ye rural muses weep + The ivy'd balustrade, and terrace steep; + Walls, mellowed into harmony by time, + On which fantastic creepers used to climb; + While statues, labyrinths, and alleys pent + Within their bounds, at least were innocent!-- + _Our modern taste--alas!--no limit knows; + O'er hill, o'er dale, through wood and field it flows; + Spreading o'er all its unprolific spawn, + In never-ending sheets of vapid lawn._ + + _The Landscape, a didactic Poem, + addressed to Uvedale Price, Esq._ + +[4] Mason's English Garden. + +[5] Cowley. + +[6] Query, Damocles?--_Printer's Devil._ + +[7] James Hind--the "Prince of Prigs"--a royalist captain of some +distinction, was hanged, drawn, and quartered, in 1652. Some good +stories are told of him. He had the credit of robbing Cromwell, +Bradshaw, and Peters. His discourse to Peters is particularly edifying. + +[8] See Du-Val's life by Doctor Pope, or Leigh Hunt's brilliant sketch +of him in _The Indicator_. + +[9] We cannot say much in favor of this worthy, whose name was Thomas +Simpson. The reason of his _sobriquet_ does not appear. He was not +particularly scrupulous as to his mode of appropriation. One of his +sayings is, however, on record. He told a widow whom he robbed, "that +the end of a woman's husband begins in tears, but the end of her tears +is another husband." "Upon which," says his chronicler, "the gentlewoman +gave him about fifty guineas." + +[10] Tom was a sprightly fellow, and carried his sprightliness to the +gallows; for just before he was turned off he kicked Mr. Smith, the +ordinary, and the hangman out of the cart--a piece of pleasantry which +created, as may be supposed, no small sensation. + +[11] Many agreeable stories are related of Holloway. His career, +however, closed with a murder. He contrived to break out of Newgate but +returned to witness the trial of one of his associates; when, upon the +attempt of a turnkey, one Richard Spurling, to seize him, Will knocked +him on the head in the presence of the whole court. For this offence he +suffered the extreme penalty of the law in 1712. + +[12] Wicks's adventures with Madame Toly are highly diverting. It was +this hero--not Turpin, as has been erroneously stated--who stopped the +celebrated Lord Mohun. Of Gettings and Grey, and "the five or six," the +less said the better. + +[13] One of Jack's recorded _mots_. When a Bible was pressed upon his +acceptance by Mr. Wagstaff, the chaplain, Jack refused it, saying, "that +in his situation one file would be worth all the Bibles in the world." A +gentleman who visited Newgate asked him to dinner; Sheppard replied, +"that he would take an early opportunity of waiting upon him." And we +believe he kept his word. + +[14] The word Tory, as here applied, must not be confounded with the +term of party distinction now in general use in the political world. It +simply means a thief on a grand scale, something more than "a snapper-up +of unconsidered trifles," or petty-larceny rascal. We have classical +authority for this:--TORY: "An advocate for absolute monarchy; _also, an +Irish vagabond, robber, or rapparee_."--GROSE'S _Dictionary_. + +[15] A trio of famous High-Tobygloaks. Swiftneck was a captain of +_Irish_ dragoons, by-the-bye. + +[16] REDMOND O'HANLON was the Rob Roy of Ireland, and his adventures, +many of which are exceedingly curious, would furnish as rich _materials_ +for the novelist, as they have already done for the ballad-mongers: some +of them are, however, sufficiently well narrated in a pleasant little +tome, published at Belfast, entitled _The History of the Rapparees_. We +are also in possession of a funeral discourse, preached at the obsequies +of the "noble and renowned" Henry St. John, Esq., who was unfortunately +killed by the _Tories_--the _Destructives_ of those days--in the +induction to which we find some allusion to Redmond. After describing +the thriving condition of the north of Ireland, about 1680, the Rev. +Lawrence Power, the author of the sermon, says, "One mischief there was, +which indeed in a great measure destroyed all, and that was a pack of +insolent bloody outlaws, whom they here call _Tories_. These had so +riveted themselves in these parts, that by the interest they had among +the natives, and some English, too, _to their shame be it spoken_, they +exercise a kind of separate sovereignty in three or four counties in the +north of Ireland. REDMOND O'HANLON is their chief, and has been these +many years; a cunning, dangerous fellow, who, though proclaimed an +outlaw with the rest of his crew, and sums of money set upon their +heads, yet he reigns still, and keeps all in subjection, so far that +'tis credibly reported _he raises more in a year by contributions +a-la-mode de France than the king's land taxes and chimney-money come +to, and thereby is enabled to bribe clerks and officers_, IF NOT THEIR +MASTERS, (!) _and makes all too much truckle to him_." Agitation, it +seems, was not confined to our own days--but the "finest country in the +world" has been, and ever will be, the same. The old game is played +under a new color--the only difference being, that had Redmond lived in +our time, he would, in all probability, not only have pillaged a county, +but _represented_ it in parliament. The spirit of the Rapparee is still +abroad--though we fear there is little of the _Tory_ left about it. We +recommend this note to the serious consideration of the declaimers +against the sufferings of the "six millions." + +[17] Here Titus was slightly in error. He mistook the cause for the +effect. "They were called Rapparees," Mr. Malone says, "from being armed +with a half-pike, called by the Irish a _rapparee_."--TODD'S JOHNSON. + +[18] _Tory_, so called from the Irish word _Toree_, give me your +money.--TODD'S JOHNSON. + +[19] As he was carried to the gallows, Jack played a fine tune of his +own composing on the bagpipe, which retains the name of Macpherson's +tune to this day.--_History of the Rapparees_. + +[20] "Notwithstanding he was so great a rogue, Delany was a handsome, +portly man, extremely diverting in company, and could behave himself +before gentlemen very agreeably. _He had a political genius_--not +altogether surprising in so eminent a _Tory_--and would have made great +proficiency in learning if he had rightly applied his time. He composed +several songs, and put tunes to them; and by his skill in music gained +the favor of some of the leading musicians in the country, who +endeavored to get him reprieved."--_History of the Rapparees_. The +particulars of the _Songster's_ execution are singular:--"When he was +brought into court to receive sentence of death, the judge told him that +he was informed he should say 'that there was not a rope in Ireland +sufficient to hang him. But,' says he, 'I'll try if Kilkenny can't +afford one strong enough to do your business; and if that will not do, +you shall have another, and another.' Then he ordered the sheriff to +choose a rope, and Delany was ordered for execution the next day. The +sheriff having notice of his mother's boasting that no rope could hang +her son--and pursuant to the judge's desire--provided two ropes, but +Delany broke them one after the other! The sheriff was then in a rage, +and went for three bed-cords, which he plaited threefold together, _and +they did his business_! Yet the sheriff was afraid he was not dead; and +in a passion, to make trial, stabbed him with his sword in the soles of +his feet, and at last cut the rope. After he was cut down, his body was +carried into the courthouse, where it remained in the coffin for two +days, standing up, till the judge and all the spectators were fully +satisfied that he was stiff and dead, and then permission was given to +his friends to remove the corpse and bury it."-_History of the +Rapparees_. + +[21] Highwaymen, as contradistinguished from footpads. + +[22] Since Mr. Coates here avows himself the writer of this diatribe +against Sir Robert Walpole, attacked under the guise of _Turpin_ in the +_Common Sense_ of July 30, 1737, it is useless to inquire further into +its authorship. And it remains only to refer the reader to the _Gents. +Mag._, vol. vii. p. 438, for the article above quoted; and for a reply +to it from the _Daily Gazetteer_ contained in p. 499 of the same volume. + +[23] In reference to this imaginary charm, Sir Thomas Browne observes, +in his "Vulgar Errors." "What natural effects can reasonably be +expected, when, to prevent the Ephialtes, or Nightmare, we hang a hollow +stone in our stables?" Grose also states, "that a stone with a hole in +it, hung at the bed's head, will prevent the nightmare, and is therefore +called a hag-stone." The belief in this charm still lingers in some +districts, and maintains, like the horse-shoe affixed to the barn-door, +a feeble stand against the superstition-destroying "march of intellect." + +[24] Brown's Pastorals. + +[25] The Merry Beggars. + +[26] The parties to be wedded find out a dead horse, or any other beast, +and standing one on the one side, and the other on the other, the +patrico bids them live together till death do them part; and so shaking +hands, the wedding dinner is kept at the next alehouse they stumble +into, where the union is nothing but knocking of cannes, and the sauce, +none but drunken brawles.--DEKKAR. + +[27] Receiver. + +[28] Memoirs, of the right villainous John Hall, the famous, and +notorious Robber, penned from his Mouth some Time before his Death, +1708. + +[29] A famous highwayman. + +[30] A real gentleman. + +[31] Breeches and boots. + +[32] Gipsy flask. + +[33] How he exposes his pistols. + +[34] For an account of these, see Grose. They are much too _gross_ to be +set down here. + +[35] "The shalm, or shawm, was a wind instrument, like a pipe, with a +swelling protuberance in the middle."--_Earl of Northumberland's +Household Book_. + +[36] Perhaps the most whimsical laws that were ever prescribed to a gang +of thieves were those framed by William Holliday, one of the prigging +community, who was hanged in 1695: + +Art. I. directs--That none of his company should presume to wear shirts, +upon pain of being cashiered. + +II.--That none should lie in any other places than stables, empty +houses, or other bulks. + +III.--That they should eat nothing but what they begged, and that they +should give away all the money they got by cleaning boots among one +another, for the good of the fraternity. + +IV.--That they should neither learn to read nor write, that he may have +them the better under command. + +V.--That they should appear every morning by nine, on the parade, to +receive necessary orders. + +VI.--That none should presume to follow the scent but such as he ordered +on that party. + +VII.--That if any one gave them shoes or stockings, they should convert +them into money to play. + +VIII.--That they should steal nothing they could not come at, for fear +of bringing a scandal upon the company. + +IX.--That they should cant better than the Newgate birds, pick pockets +without bungling, outlie a Quaker, outswear a lord at a gaming-table, +and brazen out all their villainies beyond an Irishman. + +[37] Cell. + +[38] Newgate. + +[39] A woman whose husband has been hanged. + +[40] A dancing-master. + +[41] "Nothing, comrades; on, on," supposed to be addressed by a thief to +his confederates. + +[42] Thus Victor Hugo, in "Le Dernier Jour d'un Condamne," makes an +imprisoned felon sing: + + "J'le ferai danser une danse + Ou il n'y a pas de plancher." + +[43] Thieves in prison. + +[44] Shoplifter. + +[45] Pickpocket. + +[46] Handkerchiefs. + +[47] Rings. + +[48] To the pawnbroker. + +[49] Snuff-boxes. + +[50] Pickpocket. + +[51] The two forefingers used in picking a pocket. + +[52] Pickpocket. + +[53] Pick a pocket. + +[54] No inside coat-pocket; buttoned up. + +[55] Scissors. + +[56] Steal a pocket-book. + +[57] Best-made clothes. + +[58] Thief. + +[59] With my hair dressed in the first fashion. + +[60] With several rings on my hands. + +[61] Seals. + +[62] Gold watch. + +[63] Laced shirt. + +[64] Gentlemanlike. + +[65] Easily than forged notes could I pass. + +[66] Favorite mistress. + +[67] Police. + +[68] Taken at length. + +[69] Cast for transportation. + +[70] Fetters. + +[71] Turnkey. + +[72] Gipsy. + +[73] Pickpockets. + +[74] This song describes pretty accurately the career of an +extraordinary individual, who, in the lucid intervals of a half-crazed +understanding, imposed himself upon the credulous inhabitants of +Canterbury, in the year 1832, as a certain "SIR WILLIAM PERCY HONEYWOOD +COURTENAY, KNIGHT OF MALTA;" and contrived--for there was considerable +"method in his madness"--to support the deception during a long period. +The anachronism of his character in a tale--the data of which is nearly +a century back--will, perhaps, be overlooked, when it is considered of +how much value, in the illustration of "wise saws," are "_modern +instances_." Imposture and credulity are of all ages; and the Courtenays +of the nineteenth are rivalled by the Tofts and Andres of the eighteenth +century. The subjoined account of the _soi-disant_ SIR WILLIAM COURTENAY +is extracted from "An Essay on his Character, and Reflections on his +Trial," published at the theatre of his exploits: "About Michaelmas last +it was rumored that an extraordinary man was staying at the Rose Inn of +this city--Canterbury--who passed under the name of Count Rothschild, +but had been recently known in London by the name of Thompson! This +would have been sufficient to excite attention, had no other incidents +materially added to the excitement. His costume and countenance denoted +foreign extraction, while his language and conversation showed that he +was well acquainted with almost every part of this kingdom. He was said +to live with singular frugality, notwithstanding abundant samples of +wealth, and professions of an almost unlimited command of money. He +appeared to study retirement, if not concealment, although subsequent +events have proved that society of every grade, beneath the middle +class, is the element in which he most freely breathes. _He often decked +his person with a fine suit of Italian clothing, and sometimes with the +more gay and imposing costume of the Eastern nations; yet these foreign +habits were for months scarcely visible beyond the limits of the inn of +his abode, and the chapel not far from it, in which he was accustomed to +offer his Sabbath devotions._ This place was the first to which he made +a public and frequent resort; and though he did not always attempt to +advance towards the uppermost seat in the synagogue, he attracted +attention from the mere singularity of his appearance. + +"Such was the eccentric, incongruous individual who surprised our city +by proposing himself as a third candidate for its representation, and +who created an entertaining contest for the honor, long after the +sitting candidates had composed themselves to the delightful vision of +an inexpensive and unopposed return. The notion of representing the city +originated beyond all doubt in the fertile brain of the man himself. It +would seem to have been almost as sudden a thought in his mind, as it +was a sudden and surprising movement in the view of the city; nor have +we been able to ascertain whether his sojourn at the Rose was the cause +or the effect of his offering to advocate our interests in +Parliament--whether he came to the city with that high-minded purpose, +or subsequently formed the notion, when he saw, or thought he saw, an +opening for a stranger of enterprise like himself. + + * * * * * + +"As the county election drew on, we believe between the nomination on +Barham Downs and the voting in the cattle market of the city, the +draught of a certain handbill was sent to a printer of this city, with a +request that he would publish it without delay. Our readers will not be +surprised that he instantly declined the task; but as we have obtained +possession of the copy, and its publication can now do no injury to any +one, we entertain them with a sight of this delectable sample of +Courtenay prudence and politeness. + +"'O yes! O yes! O yes! I, Lord Viscount William Courtenay, of Powderham +Castle, Devon, do hereby proclaim Sir Thomas Tylden, Sir Brook Brydges, +Sir Edward Knatchbull, and Sir William Cosway, four cowards, unfit to +represent, or to assist in returning members of Parliament to serve the +brave men of Kent. + +"'Percy Honeywood Courtenay, of Hales and Evington Place, Kent, and +Knight of Malta. + +"'Any gentleman desiring to know the reasons why Lord Courtenay so +publicly exposes backbiters, any man of honor shall have satisfaction at +his hands, and in a public way, according to the laws of our land--trial +by combat; when the Almighty God, the Lord of Hosts is his name, can +decide the "truth," whether it is a libel or not. I worship truth as my +God, and will die for it--and upon this we will see who is strongest, +God or man.' + +"It is a coincidence too curious to be overlooked, that this doughty +champion of _truth_ should so soon have removed himself from public life +by an act of deliberate and wanton perjury. We never read any of his +rhapsodies, periodical or occasional, till the publication of this essay +imposed the self-denying task upon us; but now we find that they abound +in strong and solemn appeals to the _truth_; in bold proclamations that +_truth_ is his palladium; in evidences that he writes and raves, that he +draws his sword and clenches his fist, that he expends his property and +the property of others committed to his hands, in no cause but that of +_truth_! His famous periodical contains much vehement declamation in +defence of certain doctrines of religion, which he terms the truth of +the sublime system of Christianity, and for which alone he is content to +live, and also willing to die. All who deviate from his standard of +truth, whether theological or moral, philosophical or political, he +appears to consider as neither fit for life nor death. Now it is a +little strange, his warmest followers being witness, that such an +advocate of truth should have become the willing victim of falsehood, +the ready and eager martyr of the worst form of falsehood--perjury. + +"The decline of his influence between the city and county elections has +been partly attributed, and not without reason, to the sudden change in +his appearance from comparative youth to advancing, if not extreme age. +_On the hustings of the city he shone forth in all the dazzling lustre +of an Oriental chief; and such was the effect of gay clothing on the +meridian of life, that his admirers, especially of the weaker sex, would +insist upon it that he had not passed the beautiful spring-time of May. +There were, indeed, some suspicious appearances of a near approach to +forty, if not two or three years beyond it; but these were fondly +ascribed to his foreign travels in distant and insalubrious climes; he +had acquired his duskiness of complexion, and his strength of feature +and violence of gesture, and his profusion of beard, in Egypt and Syria, +in exploring the catacombs of the one country, and bowing at the shrines +of the other. On the other hand, the brilliancy of his eye, the melody +of his voice, and the elasticity of his muscles and limbs, were +sufficient arguments in favor of his having scarcely passed the limit +that separates manhood from youth._ + +"All doubts on these points were removed, when the crowd of his fair +admirers visited him at the retirement of his inn, and the intervals of +his polling. These _sub-Rosa_ interviews--we allude to the name of the +inn, and not to anything like privacy there, which the very place and +number of the visitors altogether precluded--convinced them that he was +even a younger and lovelier man than his rather boisterous behavior in +the hall would allow them to hope. In fact, he was now installed by +acclamation _Knight of Canterbury as well as Malta, and King of Kent as +well as Jerusalem_! It became dangerous then to whisper a syllable of +suspicion against his wealth or rank, his wisdom or beauty; and all who +would not bow down before this golden image were deemed worthy of no +better fate than Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego--to be cast into a +burning fiery furnace." + +As a sequel to the above story, it may be added that the knight of Malta +became the inmate of a lunatic asylum; and on his liberation was shot at +the head of a band of Kentish hinds, whom he had persuaded that he was +the Messiah! + +[75] A pipe of tobacco. + +[76] A drink composed of beer, eggs, and brandy. + +[77] The supposed malignant influence of this plant is frequently +alluded to by our elder dramatists; and with one of the greatest of +them, Webster--as might be expected from a muse revelling like a ghoul +in graves and sepulchres--it is an especial favorite. But none have +plunged so deeply into the subject as Sir Thomas Browne. He tears up the +fable root and branch. Concerning the danger ensuing from eradication of +the mandrake, the learned physician thus writes: "The last assertion is, +that there follows a hazard of life to them that pull it up, that some +evil fate pursues them, and that they live not very long hereafter. +Therefore the attempt hereof among the ancients was not in ordinary way; +but, as Pliny informeth, when they intended to take up the root of this +plant, they took the wind thereof, and with a sword describing three +circles about it, they digged it up, looking toward the west. A conceit +not only injurious unto truth and confutable by daily experience, but +somewhat derogatory unto the providence of God; that is, not only to +impose so destructive a quality on any plant, but to conceive a +vegetable whose parts are so useful unto many, should, in the only +taking up, prove mortal unto any. This were to introduce a second +forbidden fruit, and enhance the first malediction, making it not only +mortal for Adam to taste the one, but capital for his posterity to +eradicate or dig up the other."--_Vulgar Errors_, book ii. c. vi. + +[78] The moon. + +[79] Light. + +[80] Highwayman. + +[81] "Cherry-colored--black; there being black cherries as well as +red."--GROSE. + +[82] Sword. + +[83] Pistols. + +[84] Highway robbery. + +[85] Pocket-book. + +[86] Money. + +[87] Bullets. + +[88] The gallows. + +[89] Ditto. + +[90] Pocket-book. + +[91] Inside coat-pocket. + +[92] A small pocket-book. + +[93] We have heard of a certain gentleman tobyman, we forget his name, +taking the horses from his curricle for a similar purpose, but we own we +think King's the simpler plan, and quite practicable still. A cabriolet +would be quite out of the question, but particularly easy to _stop_. + +[94] Four celebrated highwaymen, all rejoicing in the honorable +distinction of captain. + +[95] The exact spot where Turpin committed this robbery, which has often +been pointed out to us, lies in what is now a woody hollow, though once +the old road from Altringham to Knutsford skirting the rich and sylvan +domains of Dunham, and descending the hill that brings you to the bridge +crossing the little river Bollin. With some difficulty we penetrated +this ravine. It is just the place for an adventure of the kind. A small +brook wells through it; and the steep banks are overhung with timber, +and were, when we last visited the place, in April, 1834, a perfect nest +of primroses and wild flowers. Hough (pronounced Hoo) Green lies about +three miles across the country--the way Turpin rode. The old +Bowling-green is one of the pleasantest inns in Cheshire. + +[96] Money. + +[97] Man. + +[98] Stripped. + +[99] Fellow. + +[100] A particular kind of pugilistic punishment. + +[101] Kept each an eye upon the other. + +[102] Hands. + +[103] Deceive them. + +[104] Accomplice. + +[105] A farthing. + +[106] Cards. + +[107] Qy. _elite_.--PRINTER'S DEVIL. + +[108] Shoot him. + +[109] Since the earlier editions of this Romance were published, we +regret to state--for to _us_, at least, it is matter of regret, though +probably not to the travellers along the Edgeware Road--that this gentle +ascent has been cut through, and the fair prospect from its brow utterly +destroyed. + +[110] This, we regret to say, is not the case. The memory of bold Will +Davies, the "_Golden Farmer_"--so named from the circumstances of his +always paying his rent in gold,--is fast declining upon his peculiar +domain, Bagshot. The inn, which once bore his name, still remains to +point out to the traveller the dangers his forefathers had to encounter +in crossing this extensive heath. Just beyond this house the common +spreads out for miles on all aides in a most gallop-inviting style; and +the passenger, as he gazes from the box of some flying coach, as we have +done, upon the gorse-covered waste, may, without much stretch of fancy, +imagine he beholds Will Davies careering like the wind over its wild and +undulating expanse. We are sorry to add that the "_Golden_ Farmer" has +altered its designation to the "_Jolly_ Farmer." This should be amended; +and when next we pass that way, we hope to see the original sign +restored. We cannot afford to lose our _golden_ farmers. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rookwood, by William Harrison Ainsworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROOKWOOD *** + +***** This file should be named 23564.txt or 23564.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/5/6/23564/ + +Produced by Afra Ullah, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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