Kitabı oku: «Roger Kyffin's Ward», sayfa 17
Paul’s address had a great effect among the labourers. They consulted together for some time, and one after the other agreed that they would not again lay an axe against the root of one of the trees of Stanmore. A few held out. They had got work and did not see why some old trees should not come down at the bidding of one man as well as that of another.
“Take your own way,” answered Paul. “If the trees fall, some one will have to pay, and you will not forget my words.”
Several of the men shouldered their axes and prepared to move.
“I would sooner lose a week’s work than offend the captain,” exclaimed one.
“Well said, John Hobby, you are a true man,” exclaimed Paul. “To my mind none of you will have to lose a day’s work. I don’t make promises for other people, but my opinion is that a generous, open-handed man like the captain would not let a fellow suffer for being true to him.”
“Hurrah! I will not lift an axe against another tree in this place till the captain orders me,” cried Hobby.
“Nor I, nor I, nor I,” answered others.
The whole party with one accord, headed by Paul Gauntlett, marched off the ground, leaving four or five trees where they lay, with their branches still attached to them. There seemed no probability of more of the timber of Stanmore being felled that day, or perhaps for some days to come.
We must now return to Mr Thornborough’s house in London. Mabel was staying with her godfather and his kind sister. After she had obtained the King’s signature for his pardon, though feeling certain that he would be released, her nerves at length gave way, and she was utterly unable to accompany Mr Kyffin, as she wished to do, to carry the pardon down to him. She therefore returned to Mr Thornborough’s house, while Mr Kyffin again went down the banks of the Thames to the prison ship. Mr Kyffin had a double reason for haste. He was less anxious, possibly, than Mabel, on account of Harry’s safety, for he felt sure that that was secured; but the next day had been fixed for the trial of Silas Sleech, and he wished to obtain his ward’s evidence, without which he foresaw that the conviction of the culprit was very uncertain. Harry could scarcely believe that he was at liberty, though he saw the prison door open, and his guardian, accompanied by the governor of the prison and other officials who had come to set him at liberty. They were soon on shore, and at the inn where Mr Kyffin had left his carriage. He had thoughtfully brought a suit of clothes for Harry, who, with a satisfaction which can be best understood by those who have suffered as he had done, having gone through a thorough ablution, once more dressed himself as a gentleman. He was pale, but in other respects greatly improved. His figure was fuller, and his appearance more manly. His arrival in court, in time to secure Silas Sleech’s conviction, has already been described. Mabel was all day in a state of nervous agitation. Frequently when Mrs Barbara addressed her she scarcely understood what was said. When she took up a book, her eyes ran over the pages without reading a line. She tried to work, but her fingers refused to move. Mrs Barbara observed her state. “Poor girl,” she thought, “how wonderful it is that she should love that young man so much.” A carriage stopped at the door. She endeavoured to rise, but found it impossible to move. She drew her breath quickly. The door opened, and a middle-aged gentleman entered. She lifted up her head. In an instant she was in his arms.
“Oh! papa, this is almost too much for me,” she exclaimed, as Captain Everard returned her embrace. In a few words he told her what had occurred. “But the loss of Stanmore is a severe blow,” he observed.
“Oh! for me it is nothing,” answered Mabel; “I feel for you, though that cannot take away your position as a post-captain.”
“No, indeed,” answered the captain, “it is a position a man may well be proud of.”
“And as for the fortune, my little god-daughter must not be without something,” observed Mr Thornborough. “Here, Barbara, give her that paper. A present is better than a bequest, and I have had the amount transferred to her name in the funds.”
Mabel’s eyes were too full of tears to distinguish clearly what was written on the paper, though she could make out the sum of 10,000 pounds. She was springing forward to thank her godfather, when another carriage drove up to the door. Again the drawing-room door opened, and two gentlemen entered. This time Mabel did not spring into the arms of either of them, but she stood for an instant motionless till the youngest advanced towards her. Then unconsciously forgetting that any one else was present, she lifted up her arms and let them fall on the young man’s shoulders.
“What! Andrew Brown, the brave seaman who saved my life?” exclaimed Captain Everard. “But can it be? I wonder that all that time I did not recognise my young friend Harry Tryon.”
Chapter Twenty Eight.
The Wreck of the Lugger, and what came of it
For upwards of a week Roger Kyffin had been absent from Idol Lane, during which time he had never left his house at Hampstead. The doctor, however, paid frequent visits, sometimes thrice a day; once he remained during the greater part of the night. The Misses Coppinger also frequently drove over, and on one occasion Mr Coppinger himself rode all the way to Hampstead to inquire for Mr Kyffin’s sick friend, for Mr Kyffin himself was in perfect health; indeed, he had never had an hour’s illness since he was a boy. No mother could have attended a child with more care and solicitude than did Roger Kyffin his guest. That guest was Harry Tryon. The day after his release from the prison ship he was seized with illness – his tongue was parched, his limbs ached, he was unable to raise his head from his pillow. The doctor thought that he was suffering, it might be, from the jail fever. Harry’s nerves had also been severely tried. What with the fatigue and anxiety he had gone through, the feeling of shame and remorse for his folly had at length completely overcome him. For several days he appeared to be hovering between life and death.
“Oh! Mr Kyffin, I am unworthy of you, I feel that I have disgraced you, and Mabel, too; when she knows about me, she, too, will see that I am unworthy of her love. How can she ever have confidence in a man who has shown himself so weak, who has committed so many follies, and who has been so easily led astray by designing knaves? How could I for a moment have trusted such a person as that unhappy man Sleech? Why did I not at once perceive the aims of Parker, who, however, was a thousand times superior to the other fellow?”
“My dear boy,” said Mr Kyffin, ”‘let bygones be bygones.’ You have had a good deal of experience in life, and have paid dearly for it, and now I pray God that you may be restored to health and be wiser for the future.”
“I see no hope for life in me,” answered Harry, “Mabel can never be mine.”
This was said as the fever was coming upon him before he broke down altogether. Mr Kyffin saw that reasoning or expostulation under the circumstances would avail nothing. He did his best therefore merely to soothe the poor lad. From his heart he pitied him, and loved him more than ever. Mabel had returned to Lynderton with her father. She was not told of Harry’s desperate illness. Indeed, she could not be permitted to see him for fear of catching the fever. She had fully expected that he would write, and perhaps she suffered more from being left in doubt than if she had been told the truth. At length, a fine constitution, under the doctor’s care, by God’s mercy brought him through. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered to be moved, Mr Kyffin was anxious to give him change of air. The cottage where he was born was vacant, and Mr Kyffin begged his old friend Doctor Jessop to fit it up for him. “His native air, and the doctor who knows him so well, will afford him the best chance of perfect recovery,” the kind man thought to himself, so he and Harry set forth towards Lynderton. Once more Harry took up his abode at the cottage where he first saw the light. He sat in the room with his old friend where his mother had died. A faint recollection of her came across him. He could even fancy he saw her slight figure as she sat in the porch watching his gambols on the lawn, or as she stood at the gate while he and the nursemaid set forth on their daily walk. The fresh autumn air soon restored vigour to his limbs and sent new life through his veins. Doctor Jessop prescribed frequent walks on the open downs above the cliffs.
“All fear of infection will by that time be blown away,” he observed. “For my part, I believe there has been no real danger since you left London. However, we cannot be too cautious in such matters.”
“And may I then see Mabel – Miss Everard?” he asked.
The doctor smiled.
“That may be as her father wishes,” he answered. “Certainly you will run no risk of giving her the fever, if that is what you mean. Perhaps I may be able to drive you there some day, not just yet though, and you are certainly not strong enough to walk so far.”
The weather had changed lately, and become very boisterous, but the stronger it blew the more Harry enjoyed his walks on the cliffs. – Generally Mr Kyffin accompanied him. One evening, however, it having rained all the afternoon, he went out later than usual. The air was fresh and pure, and he was tempted to continue his walk much farther than he generally went. At length, growing somewhat weary, he sat himself down in a hollow of the downs. The sun had hitherto been concealed, but at length it shone forth below a mass of clouds which hung overhead, and appeared floating as it were above the horizon, a vast ball of liquid fire. Gradually it sank over Portland Head, leaving the western sky glowing with a ruddy hue. Harry sat on, lost in thought. Now a fresh bank of clouds rose out of the horizon, and joining those that hung overhead, completely obscured the sky. Twilight came on more rapidly than usual, it seemed, as the wind increased, and the clouds rushed by in thick masses overhead. At last Harry became conscious that time had sped by, and the waning light warned him of the rapid approach of night. He knew the way well enough. At the same time there were several difficult places which he would have preferred passing in daylight. He hurried homeward along the cliff, but the darkness increased, and at length, reaching a path which led down to the beach, and recollecting that the tide was out, he descended by it, intending to continue his walk that way homeward. It was soon so dark that he could with difficulty see his way along the shore. Still, he found it somewhat tedious work walking along the beach, and upwards of an hour passed away after it became dark before, according to his calculation, he had reached that part of the beach which lay below the cottage. Just as he was about to turn away inland the sound of a gun came in from the sea. Another and another report followed. He stood for a few minutes wondering from what vessel the guns were fired. Presently his eye caught sight of the flashes. Several others followed. The vessel firing was drawing nearer and nearer. He could not bring himself to leave the shore, hoping that Mr Kyffin would not be alarmed by his absence. The wind whistled loudly. The seas came rolling in heavily on the beach, bursting with loud roars, throwing up the white spray, which was driven in showers inland. Harry was soon pretty well drenched, but he had been too much accustomed to a wet jacket to think of it. Suddenly the clouds parted, and the moon burst forth, shedding a pale light over the wild, dancing waters. Just on the spot where her beams fell he distinguished a vessel running in towards the shore. That short glance showed him that she was a lugger. She seemed to be carrying a press of sail, considering the heavy gale blowing. Again the clouds parted, and at some distance astern of her, his keen seaman’s eye caught sight of a larger vessel. It was from her the guns were fired, for at that instant a flash was soon followed by the dull report of a gun, sounding even above the roar of the ocean. The position of both vessels was perilous in the extreme. In a few minutes the lugger must inevitably run on shore; but being probably a light craft, by being driven high upon the beach her crew might be saved; but if the larger vessel struck, it would be at a considerable distance farther out, and the seas would with terrific force instantly break over her and wash all the people off her decks. He longed to have the means of making a signal to the vessels of their danger. That seemed impossible. At no great distance were several cottages inhabited by fishermen and other seafaring people.
“I will go and collect them,” Harry said to himself, “and get them to bring ropes and spars. We may save the lives of some of these poor fellows. Without help they must nearly all be washed off again, even should they be thrown on the beach.”
Harry was not mistaken as to his position, and after some time, though not without difficulty, he found his way up the cliff and saw a light burning in one of the cottages which he was endeavouring to reach. He shouted out to the inmates, and at length a door opened and a light streamed forth. By its means he got to the front of the cottage, and told the men what was likely to occur. In a short time they were all on foot and hurrying down with him to the beach, laden with the poles and ropes he advised them to bring. At that moment a light burst forth from the top of a neighbouring cliff, and it was repeated by another from a beacon a little way inland. The guns then had been heard by the coastguards. By the time Harry had returned to the beach, a number of persons were collecting from all sides. Numerous other beacons in a short time blazed forth. The crowd were uttering various cries and exclamations.
“It is a French fleet,” cried one; “the French are coming.”
“To arms! to arms!” shouted others.
“What is to be done?” asked some of the more timid. Several hurried back, declaring it was time to get out of harm’s way. Harry was glad at last to hear Mr Kyffin’s voice. He made his way up to him. “I was afraid you would be anxious about me,” he said; “but I felt that I ought not to come home to let you know till I had collected the people, in case there should be a shipwreck, to help the sufferers.”
“She will be lost to a certainty,” cried the seamen in the crowd.
Just then the dark sail of the lugger was seen, now lifted up, as she rose on the top of the sea, now sinking down into the trough. On she came. Those on board must have been well aware of the fate awaiting them. Still they made no attempt to haul off.
Harry, calling to the people assembled, formed a party of men with ropes and spars who, secured one to the other, were to rush into the sea, and endeavour to drag out those who were washed overboard. Others were to stand by, ready to carry them up the beach out of the reach of the waves. The arrangements were made not a moment too soon. With a loud crash the lugger was seen rushing up the beach. In another instant, the following sea, with a loud roar, washed completely over her, and she was driven broadside on to the shore.
Chapter Twenty Nine.
Happy News
Several persons were carried off the decks of the wreck, and had it not been for the hardihood of those who rushed into the water, would inevitably have been swept away. Some of the crew, as the sea receded, leaped overboard and endeavoured to gain the shore. They also were helped in the same manner. Several poor fellows, however, were unable to reach the friendly hands held out to them, and were carried out by the waves. One of the number was, in another minute, dimly seen to be struggling forward on the curling summit of a foaming sea. Harry, who had ever been a bold swimmer, casting a rope about himself, now dashed in towards the almost exhausted man. Bravely he swam forward. He clasped him in his arms, and then shouting to his companions, was hauled up the beach in safety. A few more seas, came rushing in, and scarce a plank or timber of the lugger hung together. The greater number of the persons on board had been saved. They seemed, however, to be no strangers to most of the people on the beach. For some minutes Harry had been so busily engaged in rescuing others that he had not had time to speak to the person he had drawn out of the water. Great was his surprise, on returning to the drier part of the beach, when the light of a lantern fell on a man’s countenance he recognised – the features of his old acquaintance, Captain Falwasser. Several other persons were seated near him: one was a female, and the other an old man.
“What, my friend Harry Tryon!” exclaimed the captain, grasping him. “My life, I know, is not the first you have saved. Harry, I have news for you,” he said, as if recollecting himself. “You shall have it by-and-bye. But these poor people require to be housed. They are shivering with the cold, and I must confess that I should like to find myself before a warm fire.”
“Our cottage is at the service of as many as can get into it,” said Mr Kyffin, coming up to the captain. “Our friends here will, I have no doubt, take care of the rest.”
The lugger had come across empty, greatly to the disappointment of most of the bystanders.
“As fine a craft as ever floated has come to her end this night,” observed one of them. “Well, lads, there is nothing more to be done, so we will back to our homes and get some of these poor fellows put into warm beds.”
The captain and two old French people, with two or three more persons, accompanied Mr Kyffin and Harry to the cottage. As they reached the top of the cliffs, they saw, far and near, the beacon fires bursting forth, and heard the sound of guns firing in the distance.
“Why the people must suppose that the French are coming,” observed Mr Kyffin. “Depend upon it that is the idea. We shall have the whole army of volunteers down upon us before long, and when they find that you, captain, and your two old friends are the only invaders, they may be apt to feel rather irate; our safest plan will be to get housed comfortably before they come. It will do the young soldiers no harm to give them some useful exercise. I only hope, should the enemy ever come, that the guardians of our native land may be as wide awake as they appear to be to-night.”
The cottage was shortly reached. Susan, Harry’s old nurse, now grown into a comely matron, acted as housekeeper; a blazing fire in the kitchen soon restored warmth to their limbs, while all the garments which the house could furnish were brought forth to supply them with dry clothes. A steaming hot supper was after this placed on the table, round which Mr Kyffin’s guests thankfully assembled.
“Well, Harry, you wish to know the news I have brought, I doubt not,” said the captain, when at length he was sufficiently recovered to find the use of his tongue. “Had you not come down to-night to assist in saving me and these two country people of mine, in all human probability your friend Captain Everard would not have recovered possession of Stanmore. I am thankful to say, after much risk and anxiety, I succeeded in getting a copy of the marriage certificate which was of such importance, and to make security doubly sure, I brought over these two old people who were witnesses to his father’s marriage.”
“How can he ever repay you sufficiently?” said Harry; “I must set out immediately to let him know the result of your mission.”
“No, no, my dear boy, you have gone through sufficient fatigue to-night,” said Mr Kyffin. “You must do no such thing. The captain will not be the worse for spending another night without knowing that he can regain his property, and to-morrow morning we will go in due form, when, perhaps, as the gale last night must have blown away all your fever, you may be admitted into the presence of Mistress Mabel.”
Harry’s countenance lighted up with pleasure at this suggestion of his guardian. “Do you think she will see me?” he exclaimed. “She will not deem me unworthy to appear in her presence?”
“I don’t know what the young lady will think of your past doings, Master Harry,” observed Captain Falwasser, “but I rather think that, as you will take her a pretty fair certificate of your good conduct, you may have reason to hope that she will receive you condescendingly. I tell you, in my opinion, had it not been for you, Stanmore would have remained in the possession of the Sleech family as long as any of that sweet-sounding name exists. But see, my old friends, who do not understand the words that have been said, are nodding. Your kind housekeeper will, I dare say, see them put to roost.”
Before day had dawned, the sound of drums and fifes was heard, and looking out of the window, Harry saw approaching from various directions, and forming on the downs, numerous companies of volunteers. Several officers on horseback rode along the cliff at a rapid rate, stopping every now and then, sweeping with their spy-glasses the distant horizon. Not a sail, however, was to be seen. They consulted together, and were evidently disconcerted at finding no enemy to resist. He was about to go out and meet them, but remembering his guardian’s remarks on the previous evening, he thought that they might possibly cause some annoyance to the French captain.
“They may as well find out all about the lugger by themselves,” he thought.
After a time several of the coastguard appeared, when the military having fired their muskets towards the south in defiance of their expected invaders, once more wheeled about, and marched away to their respective homes.
“I like to see that sort of thing,” observed Mr Kyffin. “Englishmen will ever be found ready to defend their native shores.”
Mr Kyffin had sent in for a carriage at an early hour to Lynderton, and soon after breakfast he, with Harry and their three visitors, set forth for that town. They stopped before the bow-windowed house where Captain Everard was residing with his aunt and daughter. Madam Everard was on the steps preparing to go out, and just behind her stood Mabel. As Harry descended from the carriage, why did Mabel start back and retreat a little within the passage? Madam Everard kindly took Harry’s hand, and shook that of Mr Kyffin. She cast an inquiring glance at the captain, whom at first she did not recognise.
“May we come in?” asked Harry, looking up eagerly towards Mabel. For an instant he hesitated, then sprang up the steps past the old lady. Madam Everard detained Mr Kyffin and the captain for some minutes by making inquiries and receiving answers.
“Come in, come in,” at length she answered. “Little did I expect to receive such joyful intelligence. Accept my gratitude, Captain Rochard, on my own account, and doubly thankful I am that by your means my dear nephew and his daughter will recover their rights.”
A minute afterwards Mary was seen tripping down the street to the news-room to summon the captain. He had gone there to read the account just received of Lord Duncan’s great victory at Camperdown.
“Oh, sir!” exclaimed Mary, as she saw the captain, “it is happy news, sir, happy news, better news than that about the battle. The French captain has come back and brought two old country people with him, and Madam Everard says we shall all get back to Stanmore.”
Mr Wallace was in the room at the time, and the captain, scarcely crediting the news, begged the lawyer to accompany him home.
“The evidence is complete,” observed Mr Wallace, after he had looked over the document brought by Captain Rochard, and by the help of that gentleman had examined the old French people. “We can go with perfect confidence of victory into a court of law, should Mr Sleech venture to oppose the claims of Captain Everard.”
“I trust that everything may be done in a peaceable way,” observed Madam Everard. “I cannot pretend to have any regard for that unhappy man, Mr Sleech, though his children are, it must be owned, my nephews and nieces. I trust, however, that he will yield without opposition.”
Mr Wallace promised to manage matters in as gentle a way as possible, and that no time might be lost, he set out forthwith for Stanmore. Paul Gauntlett, who very soon heard what was taking place, begged to accompany him.
“No, no,” said the lawyer. “You, my friend, are a man of war. We will call you in if it is necessary to proceed by ejectment, but at present I hope the enemy will capitulate without an assault.”
The answer satisfied Paul.
At that moment Dr Jessop looked in to pay a professional visit to Mabel.
“I think she scarcely requires your services, doctor,” observed Madam Everard; “but if you, as a friend of the family, will accompany Mr Wallace, perhaps you may be able to aid him in his delicate and somewhat painful mission.”
“Come, brother physic, come along then,” said Mr Wallace, as they stepped into the carriage which had brought the party from Sea View Cottage. “The sooner this matter is settled the better.”
Mr Sleech was seated in his study in a flowery dressing-gown, the hairdresser from Lynderton having just curled and powdered his peruke, when a footman in the Stanmore livery, which he had lately assumed, announced the lawyer and doctor.
“What can they want with me?” he exclaimed. “Really, a man of rank and position can scarcely call his time his own. Let them in, however.”
At that moment the Misses Sleech and one of their brothers came in from the grounds.
“Papa,” exclaimed the young Mr Sleech, “those fellows have not cut down another tree. They say they don’t mind putting the fences in order and digging out the ditches, but that not one of them will lay an axe to a root.”
“Impertinent fellows!” exclaimed Mr Sleech. “I will see how they dare disobey me.”
At that moment the visitors entered the room.
“Your servant, gentlemen,” said the master of Stanmore, performing one of his newly-learned bows. “To what cause am I indebted for the honour of this visit? Doctor, you are always welcome, whether you come as a visitor or professionally,” he added, holding out his hand, at the same time turning a dark frown towards his brother lawyer, who took his seat in silence.
“As you ask me, Mr Sleech,” said Dr Jessop, “I come now as a friend – as a friend of your family and that of the Everards. I wish that you could have heard the expressions uttered but lately by your excellent sister-in-law, Madam Everard. You must be aware that it was very painful to her to leave Stanmore. The law allowed you to take possession, it being supposed that no marriage had taken place between Captain Everard’s father and mother, notwithstanding the assertion of the former that he had married in France. Of course Captain Everard has taken every means to prove his legitimacy, and I must ask you now to be prepared to receive the information, that not only is he in possession of the certificate of the marriage, properly attested by the French authorities, but that actually two French persons of respectability who were present are at this moment in England, indeed at Lynderton.”
Mr Sleech gasped for breath as the doctor proceeded, turning his rolling eyeballs first at him and then at the lawyer.
“Is it true what he says? Is it true, Wallace? Tell me,” he exclaimed.
“Perfectly true, Mr Sleech,” answered the lawyer. “You have no more right to be in this house than I have; at the same time, the owners desire that you should be treated with every kindness and consideration.”
Mr Sleech rose from his seat, and appeared as if he were about to rush on his brother lawyer.
“It is false! It is a vile conspiracy! They are impostors!” he exclaimed. “I will not yield: I will die first!”
“My good sir,” exclaimed the doctor, placing himself between Mr Sleech, whose doubled fist was raised to strike Mr Wallace, “let me entreat you to becalm. This violence will do you no good, and is discreditable to you.”
The unfortunate man stopped and gasped, and had not the doctor held him up, he would have sunk to the ground. He was placed in a chair. Restoratives were administered, and at length he recovered.
“I yield,” at last he said; “I played for a high stake, and I have lost. They will have pity on me. That wretched boy of mine, his fate has well-nigh broken my heart.”
In a few days Mr Sleech and his family returned to the old red brick building with the high roof in the High Street of Lynderton, which he had inhabited since he entered business.
The bells rang merrily out when Captain Everard and his daughter, accompanied by Madam Everard and several friends, drove up the avenue once more to Stanmore. Harry Tryon, however, never became its master. The charms of Miss Coppinger had for some time before captured the heart of the gallant captain, and in a short time after this she became his bride, and, ultimately, the mother of a considerable number of fine sons and girls, of whom, notwithstanding, Mabel was not in the slightest degree jealous, as she by that time could boast of an equal number of her own. The fortune her godfather had given her, and a very handsome settlement made by Mr Kyffin, enabled her to accept Harry Tryon’s hand. At the same time, the Baron de Ruvigny consoled himself for his past disappointments by marrying Sybella Coppinger, and both he and Harry joined Mr Coppinger’s firm, and by the time a permanent peace was once more restored to Europe, had become among the first merchants of London. With regard to Captain Falwasser, or Rochard, as he also called himself, he was a true patriot, though a royalist, and had for some political cause been compelled to leave France before the outbreak of the revolution. He had been introduced to Mr Pitt, and had been employed by him in gaining information of proceedings in France. For this purpose he had engaged the famous smuggling lugger, from which he could land without observation on either coast. Disguised in a variety of ways, he had been able to traverse France. Had he been captured, he knew well that his life would have been sacrificed. For many years he persevered, and at length, escaping all dangers, settled down at Lynderton, where he was ever an honoured guest at Stanmore. Paul Gauntlett once more took up his former office at the park, which he held to a green old age; and Jacob Tuttle came home with the loss of an arm, and married his faithful Mary.
