by Anonymous
CHAPTER III.
The following morning found Evaline de Neville, according to herusual custom, astir at an early hour. Early as it was, however,she was sensible that the other members of the household hadbeen up for some time previous, and that a bustle prevailed inthe mansion, which, to say the least of it, was not customary,and might indicate an event of some importance. She longed forthe arrival of her waiting-woman, in order that she might drawfrom her, before she left her chamber, what it was that had sodisturbed the general tranquillity of the Grange. But the gentleMartha Follet, as her attendant was named, was not at hand, andEvaline was obliged to restrain her impatience, and so to hurryher toilet, with her own unaided hands, that she might descend atonce to the breakfast-room, and acquire the desired informationfrom a more direct source.
She had scarcely entered on her toilet, however, when the fairMartha made her appearance. She was a pretty and modest-lookinggirl, and, whether from nature, or merely from the habits ofher office, of a bearing and presence superior to her station,and to which one might, without risk of contradiction, applythe explicit phrase of “genteel.” She had, to all appearance,scarcely seen sixteen summers, yet her countenance was sadand mournful, and wore a look of anxiety that, if it had beenpermanent, would have sat ill on a much older person. Butalthough she was now dejected, there was in her large blueeyes, under a dash of tears, a flow of radiance and animationthat bespoke anything but melancholy, and, under a propitiousinfluence, it could no doubt be expanded, with more charmingeffect, into that attractive expression denominated “archness.”
A smile rose to the maiden’s lips as she approached her mistress,but it was a mournful one, and could not conceal the uneasiness,not to say anxiety, that was manifested by her other features.Evaline, surveying her earnestly, observed her dejection at aglance.
“Why, Martha, what is amiss?” she inquired, somewhat anxiously.
“I hope, nothing of moment, dear lady,” replied Martha. “MasterShedlock, the sheriff, is here, and some other strangers; butthey can do no hurt to Sir Edgar, I should ween.”
As she spoke, a tear rose to her eyes, and, breaking over thelong, silken lashes, trickled down her pale cheeks.
“Master Shedlock here?” cried Evaline, in a tone of mingledsurprise and alarm. “What dost thou mean, Martha?”
“Oh, my lady,” answered Martha, fairly bursting into tears, “theyhave accused Sir Edgar of murder, and he is now a prisoner, inthe dining-hall.”
“This almost passes belief,” said Evaline, turning very pale.“Art thou sure they have done this?”
“I heard Master Shedlock affirm it to Sir Edgar himself,”answered Martha. “The crowner’s quest, that sat on the body ofthe dead robber, have averred that he was murderously slain; andMaster Shedlock hath seized Sir Edgar as the murderer.”
“The malignant upstart!” exclaimed Evaline. “But his project,whatever it be, can be easily frustrated, and made to recoil uponhimself. Quick, Martha! I must not be absent from my father whenhe is thus abused.”
Martha, who only waited her mistress’s directions to begin,readily entered on her duties, and Evaline was soon engaged inthe various details of the toilet. These arranged, she sprang toher feet, and, bidding Martha attend her, quitted the chamber,and repaired to the dining-hall.
She found the whole household collected in this apartment. These,however, were not the only inmates, nor was it on them that shebestowed her notice. At the head of the long dining-table, whichpassed down the centre of the room, stood a group of persons whofirst attracted her eye, and immediately engaged her undividedattention.
The group consisted of her father, her cousin, Don Felix diCorva, and three strangers. Of these last, the principal wasone who, even while the spectator was ignorant of his name andworth, inspired respect by his mere presence. His height was fullsix feet, and thus, by its marked pre-eminence, distinguishedhim from those around at the very first glance. His manly andvigorous limbs, which his erect posture exhibited to advantage,corresponded with his stature, and were all fitted with exactproportion, and turned with the most perfect grace. But what mostprepossessed the spectator in his favour was his countenance,which seemed to claim for him, through the medium of its variousfeatures, not only the respect which should be paid to the bestqualities of the heart, but the veneration which is due toloftiness of intellect. He was attired in costly habits, fittedto his person with great care, and indicating, by the harmonyof their colours, and the simple elegance of their design, thenicest and most refined taste.
By his side stood a person who appeared to greater disadvantage,perhaps, from his proximity to so much excellence. He was ashort, spare man; but, for his years--which were somewhatbeyond fifty--looked hale and healthy. If the countenance ofhis companion, the cavalier just described, was his greatestrecommendation, that of this individual embraced his mostprominent defects. His forehead was low; and, from his wearinghis scanty locks closely cropped, looked much lower thanit really was: his eyes were small and piercing, and, whenthey were raised from the table (which was not often), werecontinually twisting about, like a ferret’s; his nose was long,and sharp, and turned up at the end; and his mouth, especiallywhen compressed, seemed to stretch right across his face, andto form a sort of pitfall, if one may so speak, beneath hishigh cheek-bones. Unlike his companion, he was attired in gravegarments, which were cut with great formality; but, whetherfrom haste, or from habit, had been put on in the most carelessmanner, and evidently by a hand, whatever actuated it, thatdeemed any labour of the toilet irksome and unprofitable.
The third stranger was almost equal in stature to the one firstdescribed. In all other respects, however, he was decidedlysingular, and bore no resemblance to any one person present.His figure was so lean, and, at the same time, so tall, that helooked like a shadow, and scarcely appeared to possess sufficientstrength to maintain his own balance. His face was small, andemaciated, and was by no means improved, if it were not greatlydisfigured, by the manner in which he wore his long red hair,which was combed down over his forehead, and made his face looklittle larger than a good-sized boy’s. Like the cavalier beforenamed, he was clad in grave habits, of a close and formal cut,and a fashion long defunct; but, to judge from their scantydimensions, they were not his own, and he seemed to have beendriven into them by main force.
Evaline, after a first glance at his face, recognised thisindividual as the sheriff’s clerk, and the short, puritanicalperson at his side, whom we have described at some lengthbefore, as Master Shedlock, the sheriff. Who the third personwas, or whether he was associated with Shedlock, or was a friendof her father, she could not conceive. But she had not time toform many conjectures on this point; for, just as she gained thehead of the table, a few words from Shedlock, addressed to thecavalier in question, made her understand his exact position.
“I am right glad, Sir Walter,” observed Shedlock, in a whiningtone, “that thou didst happen to be present when this paperwas brought to me. See here!” and he unrolled a scrap of paperwhich he had in his hand: “the poor murdered Samaritan, whom thesons of Belial call a robber, was held trustworthy by my LordTreasurer, the light and horn of Israel. This paper was found inhis pouch, and is a warranty, beyond all question, of his perfecthonesty. Read it, sirrah!” and he handed the paper to his clerk.
The clerk, with a humble reverence, caught up the paper, and, inthe same whining tone as his master, read from it these words:--
“The bearer is in my employ. “W. BURLEIGH.”
As Evaline heard this announcement, she turned her eyes onher father, and observed that, though strongly marked withindignation, his face betrayed considerable anxiety. She felther own heart quake, but, in her concern for her parent, shesuppressed her personal fears, and affected to appear composed.She then stepped forward to the side of Sir Edgar, and, layingher hand on his arm, made him aware of her presence and vicinity.
“Be under no fear, my child,” said Sir Edgar, perceiving her.“Our in
nocence, I thank Heaven, can be clearly established, andthese worthy gentlemen will then depart satisfied.”
“I hope it may so turn out, Sir,” observed the cavalier calledSir Walter. “But where is the person who, according to thyreport, did this man to death?”
“Hast thou sought him, Adam?” demanded Sir Edgar of a servant whostood behind him.
The servant, with some savour of embarrassment, glanced anxiouslyat Don Felix di Corva, and made no reply. Don Felix, however,came to his rescue.
“He has not been seen since last even,” he said.
“’Tis strange,” remarked Sir Walter, “that he should thus absenthimself, at a time when his evidence was sure to be called for,without communicating with his host. But who is he?”
“Thou wilt hardly believe, Sir, that I cannot tell thee,”answered Sir Edgar, with an appearance of confusion; “but I donot even know his name.”
The person called Sir Walter, who had hitherto seemed to regardthe investigation with scarcely any concern, looked graver onreceiving this answer, and apparently began to think the mattersomewhat important. There was a brief pause before he spoke again.
“I fear me,” he then said, addressing Sir Edgar, “we must issueour warrant for thine arrest.”
“Surely, this cannot be!” exclaimed Sir Edgar, indignantly. “Thelaw, be it ever so cruel, durst not sanction such violence asthis.”
“Forbear! forbear, malignant!” cried Shedlock. “Art thou not amurderer?”
“Peace, Sir Sheriff!” said Sir Walter. “’Tis not for us to decideon the gentleman’s guilt. He must to prison; but ’tis on meresuspicion.”
“To prison, Sir?” cried Sir Edgar. “This must be jest. AnEnglish justice, methinks, durst not commit such a stretch ofauthority.”
“God forbid I should exceed the law,” answered Sir Walter; “butit bears on thee, as a Papist, with terrible severity. I speaknot to offend; but the last bull of the Bishop of Rome, whereinour gracious Queen is termed a usurper, and her Popish subjects,to whom she hath been so gentle a mistress, urged to assail hersacred life, makes us view all Papists with notable jealousy. Anemissary of my Lord Treasurer is found dead on the road, and,thou sayest, was slain in attacking thy litter; but even if thytale be true, he may have attacked thee, not from a desire ofspoil (which is anent to all reason and likelihood), but to seizethee in some act of treason. The very person who slew him, foraught we know, may have been a seminary priest, and so alreadycondemned to the gibbet.”
“This is monstrous!” cried Sir Edgar, passionately.
“Peace, malignant!” exclaimed Shedlock.
“Peace thou, Sir Sheriff!” answered Sir Edgar; “and remember,though power may abet thee now, a day of reckoning will come,when thou shalt be called to account.”
“Aha! dost thou threaten me?” replied Shedlock. “Thou thinkest tosee the day, then, when the Papist faction shall hold the powersof the state? But surely the Lord will protect his people! O! mytrust is in the Lord, and he is mighty to deliver his saints!”
“Enough, Master Shedlock,” observed Sir Walter, impatiently.“’Tis our duty, from what we have heard, to send this gentlemanto prison; but we have no warrant to give him any offence.”
Evaline, who had listened anxiously to the whole of the precedingdialogue, heard these last words with a mingled sense ofdejection and hope--dejection that her father should be draggedso ignominiously from his home; and hope, abetted by what hadpassed, that Sir Walter might still be their friend, and leavehim at large. Though of a timorous temper, this hope emboldenedher, in the pressure and excitement of the crisis, to stepsomewhat forward, and by a timely intercession, seek to secureSir Walter’s good offices.
“Is there no resource, Sir,” she said, in a tone of deep anguish,“but my father must go to prison? He is innocent--indeed, indeed,he is!”
Sir Walter looked on her so intently, that he seemed, for thefirst moment or two, to be reading her very heart; but the fairgirl, whom such a gaze would have confounded at another time, wasaffected too deeply by her sorrow to be moved by his survey. Herdark eyes, which were wont to beam with tranquil joy, were stillturned imploringly on his, and her face remained deadly pale, asif the mournful expression that hung over it braced and locked upevery feature.
“I do believe thee, lady,” answered Sir Walter, in a kind tone;“but there is, unhappily, no resource. Thy father must to prison,but, if it please thee, thou mayst bear him company to Exeter,and there, at thy convenience, have free access to his presence.”
There was little mitigation of the first sentence in this; butthe assurance that she might bear her father company, and,whenever she felt inclined, share the discomforts of his prison,was not without a soothing influence. She thanked Sir Walter forhis urbanity; and, Sir Edgar, seeing that he was not actuatedby a spirit of persecution, but solely by a sense of duty,which the extraordinary circumstances of the times pressed withparticular severity on Roman Catholics, also tendered him hisacknowledgments. It was then arranged, that Sir Edgar shouldimmediately repair, under an escort of two constables, to thecounty gaol, at Exeter; and that instructions should be forwardedto the gaoler, on the responsibility of Sir Walter, to allow himto be freely visited by his daughter and cousin, and to treathim with the utmost respect. This arrangement, so much morelenient than the accused party had been disposed to expect, wasnot effected with the concurrence of Shedlock; but Sir Walteroverruled his opposition, and induced him, by a few peremptorywords, to yield acquiescence. Matters having been thus settled,Sir Walter dropped a courteous bow to Sir Edgar and his family,and, breaking through the group around him, passed out of themansion, followed reluctantly by Shedlock.
Sir Walter did not address a word to his companion till they hadmounted their horses, which, on emerging from the mansion, theyfound waiting them at the door. On setting forward, however, intheir way down the avenue to the road, he broke the silence.
“This matter is somewhat serious,” he remarked; “for, besidesthat Sir Edgar de Neville, by his own acknowledgment, is aPapist, I perceive that he hath some family connections withSpain. These will be greatly to his detriment, I fear me, in themind of the Queen’s Highness.”
“Ay, verily, her Highness is wise,” answered Shedlock, “andrighteous to judge the earth--even as Deborah, with whom was thesword of the Lord, and who was as a scourge to the Philistines.”
“Even so,” rejoined Sir Walter; “and her Highness hath goodreason, since the beheading of the Queen of Scots, to regard allPapists with unsleeping jealousy. Nevertheless, I would wager around sum, an’ I had it idle, that this Sir Edgar will approvehimself innocent.”
“Fie on thee now, Sir Walter Raleigh!” exclaimed Shedlock.“Wouldst thou abet Amalek, and lend a buckler to the disturbersof Israel?”
Sir Walter Raleigh--for it was indeed that great man--smiled ashe replied: “I’faith, thou art over-zealous, Sir Sheriff. But’tis a good fault! ’tis a good fault!”
“Over-zealous!” cried the Puritan, raising his small, piercingeyes till only the white was visible; “who can be over-zealousfor the Lord? Shall the sword of Gideon, which hath scared theAntichrist in his den, be cast aside, and the ungodly sons ofBelial yet muster for the battle?”
“No, no, not so,” answered Sir Walter. “But let us speak of it nomore. Thou knowest, Master Shedlock, I sought thee this morningon other business. The matter of the Popish knight was forced onme by thee.”
“And thou hast therein thwarted me,” remarked Shedlock, “to thyvery utmost. The Lord forgive thee, Sir Walter Raleigh!”
“I did but put a drag on thy hot zeal,” answered Sir Walter;“and who could do a less thing, Sir Sheriff, for so fair a lady?But I see thy skeleton clerk is coming up with us,” he continued,as, casting a glance in his rear, he discovered the individualspecified, mounted on a lean and Rosinante-looking steed, ridingafter them. “Let us put forward a space, and I will then tellthee, with my customed brevity, what is the project I wouldengage thee in.”
Shedlock silently complied with this request, and, withoutfurther words, he and Sir Walter clapped spurs to their steeds,and rode smartly on. They had now gained the high-road, and, asthey passed along, Sir Walter unfolded to his companion, with hispromised brevity, the project to which he had alluded, and inwhich he sought to engage his pecuniary support.
The project referred to was to send out two ships, which werenow lying in Topsham harbour, to Sir Walter’s plantations inCarolina, with some labourers and necessaries for the colonists,and a few bales of merchandise, of various descriptions, totraffic with the Indians. On their homeward voyage, the twovessels were to endeavour, by a slight deviation from the directtrack, to fall in with the homeward-bound Mexican galleons ofSpain, and, in virtue of the letters of marque which they wouldcarry, attack such of them as they could detach from the fleet,and strive to effect their capture. As one of these vessels wouldbe an inestimable prize, Sir Walter had made great exertions toraise means to fit out the expedition, but a considerable sum wasstill wanting, after all his resources were exhausted, to renderthe outfit complete. In this dilemma, he proposed to Shedlock,who had advanced money on several of his past adventures, thathe should have one half of the profits of the expedition,conditionally that he paid one fifth of the expense; and this wasto be secured to him, whatever the profits might be, free of allcharge or deduction.
Shedlock did not hesitate long over this proposal.
“An’ I were assured that thy cruizers would capture a galleon,thine offer were not amiss,” he said; “but how know I, if theywere to come to quarters, that these ungodly Popish Spaniardswill not baffle thee?”
“Have they baffled me aforetime?” demanded Sir Walter.
“No,” replied the Puritan; “but thy cruizers, now left to adeputy, were then led by thyself; and, like David, thy hast beena man of war from thy youth up. Howbeit, an’ thou wilt secure meon thy two ships, by making them mine in case of failure, I willadvance thee the money.”
“I will secure thee on one ship,” returned Sir Walter; “and theworth of that is more, in its bare outfit, than the whole sum Irequire.”
After some bickering, Shedlock, with affected reluctance, butreally with much inward satisfaction--for the proposal wasmore advantageous than he had expected--accepted the offer.He suggested that the conditions of their agreement, with thesecurity agreed on, should at once be transferred to paper,and signed and sealed by each of them, in the presence of anattorney; and he promised, on this being done, that the sum SirWalter wanted should be immediately forthcoming.
By the time these particulars were arranged, the two horsemenhad arrived at Bethlehem Hall, the Puritan sheriff’s residence.On their drawing nigh the mansion, a short, squat woman, who hadbeen aroused by the sound of the horses’ feet, and had come forthfrom mere curiosity, made her appearance at the abutting porch,for the purpose of ascertaining, by a survey of their persons,who and what they were. Having satisfied her curiosity, she wasabout to turn into the house again, but Shedlock, happening toglance that way, discerned her retreating figure, and shouted toher to stop.
“Ho, Abigail!” he cried.
“Who calls Abigail?” demanded the woman, turning sharply round.
“Hither, hussey, and see!” returned Shedlock, drawing up beforethe porch. “Verily thou art a stubborn stock, and stiff-necked,as was Israel of old. Thou must be bent to obedience, woman, bya strong hand, and an outstretched arm. Surely, the spirit shallmake me strong to prove thee.”
The woman to whom his rebuke was addressed, and whom the lastmoment had brought close up with them, was about fifty yearsof age, and had the appearance of an inferior domestic, or, touse a modern phrase, servant-of-all-work. She was, as has beenremarked, a short, squat figure, which time appeared to havestrengthened and braced up, rather than impaired. Her featureswere harsh and rigid, and marked, just below the mouth, onthe ball of the chin, with distinct traces of a beard, partlysandy-colour, and partly grey. Her appearance was rendereddoubly unprepossessing, on a closer survey, by her mean andslovenly attire; which, not only from its cut, but in itsmaterials, was unsightly in the extreme, and was no way improvedby its sundry varied patches of grease and grime.
She did not make any reply to the reproof of Shedlock, but,raising her small brown eyes, she looked him full in the face,and thus waited whatever he might say further.
“Now I see in thee the iniquity of Jeroboam, which caused Israelto sin,” cried Shedlock. “Wilt thou take these beasts, or not?”
The woman sulkily stepped forward, and, with some show ofimpatience, caught up the bridles of the two horses, and twistedthem round her brawny arm. Sir Walter and Shedlock, withouttaking any notice of her demeanour, then alighted, and passedthrough the porch into the house.
Crossing the hall within, Shedlock led Sir Walter to anotherapartment, less capacious in its dimensions, at its further end.Here he invited him to be seated; and Sir Walter, who did notneed a second invitation, threw himself into the only chair inthe chamber, and prepared to make himself at home.
“Hast thou ever a draught of water in thy reach, MasterShedlock?” he inquired, on thus disposing himself. “By my lady’shand, I could now look pleasantly on a flowing spring.”
“’Tis well said, Sir Walter,” observed Shedlock. “Water is agood drink; and Jehonidab, the son of Rechab, who drank no wine,shall not want a man before the Lord for ever. I will straightsend thee some water, and, if thou wilt wait my return here, Iwill ride off for Master Hardscrew, the attorney, and have himdespatch our business at once.”
“Be it so,” answered Sir Walter. “But I brought a small leatherbox here this morning, hoping to bear away with me, an’ we cameto a settlement, the money thou art to furnish me withal. I wouldI had it here now.”
“’Tis there,” replied Shedlock, pointing to a leather case, thatlay in one corner of the chamber.
Having thus pointed it out, he passed into the hall, and SirWalter, left to himself, proceeded to possess himself of theleather case. Raising it from the floor, he drew a small keyfrom his vest, and, with a steady hand, applied it to a padlock,which, with the aid of a bolt and small staple, fastened thecover to the body of the case, and unlocked it. The fasteningsremoved, he opened the case, and drew forth a small pipe, madeof cherry-stick, with a bowl at the end, or, rather, at one end,made of burned clay. A little bag, that had been lying under thepipe, in the bottom of the case, furnished him with some tobacco,which he first loosened well with his fingers, and then placed inthe bowl of his pipe. This done, he drew a small tinder-box fromthe case, and, with the aid of its accompanying flint and steel,quickly procured a light. Having ignited his pipe, he shut up theleather case, and returned to his seat.
Meantime, his puritanical host, wholly bent on business, passedquickly across the hall, intending to set off straightway forlawyer Hardscrew. As he drew near the porch, he encountered hisclerk, who, having ridden at the utmost speed of his horse, had,at last, after several stumbles, got safe home again.
“Zedekiah,” said Shedlock, looking at him steadfastly, “hie toAbigail for a flagon, and take a draught of water to Sir WalterRaleigh, in the blue room yonder. Shall we not give the strangera cup of water, that he may gladden his heart withal?”
Zedekiah Truman--for such was the name of the sheriff’sclerk--heard this order with some degree of dismay, but he didnot venture to render his hesitation manifest. He looked upon SirWalter Raleigh, of whose great learning and wondrous ingenuitysuch wild stories were everywhere current, to be little betterthan a magician, who, by some unlawful and prohibited means,maintained an intercourse with the spirits of darkness; andas Zedekiah regarded the devil, if not all his works, with anunconquerable aversion, he naturally felt no way inclined toventure alone into his presence. Necessity, however, left him noalternative, and he reluctantly proceeded on the errand intrustedto him.
Having procured the water, he retraced his steps, full of gravereflections on the iniquity of magic, and the danger of holdingany intercour
se, of whatever nature, with the great source ofevil. He was confirmed in this opinion on reaching the hallwhen a strong smell of burning, emitted by Sir Walter’s pipe,assailed his nostrils. Still he pursued his way, and, though notwithout hesitation, passed on to Sir Walter’s chamber, and threwopen the door.
He cast one glance at the centre of the room, and there, tohis utter amazement, he beheld Sir Walter seated quietly inan easy-chair, emitting from his mouth volumes of flame andsmoke. Not doubting that this was some devilish enchantment,the terrified Puritan, with a trembling grasp, raised up thelarge flagon which he had in his hands, and threw the whole ofits contents right into Sir Walter’s face. Then, with a cry ofdespair, he turned hastily about, and made off.