The Weird of the Wentworths: A Tale of George IV's Time, Vol. 2

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The Weird of the Wentworths: A Tale of George IV's Time, Vol. 2 Page 7

by Johannes Scotus


  CHAPTER VII.

  "'Tis long since I beheld that eye Which gave me bliss or misery; And I have striven, but in vain, Never to think of it again; For though I fly from Albion, I still can only love but one.

  "And I will cross the whitening foam, And I will seek a foreign home; Till I forget a false fair face, I ne'er shall find a resting-place; My own dark thoughts I cannot shun, But ever love, and love but one."--_Byron._

  On a dark night in December--stormy as that eve on which Leander swamfor the last time across the broad Hellespont--a small lugger manfullybreasting the billows ran ashore near Musselburgh. There was a highnorth-easter, driving sleet and snow before it, and raising a heavysurf, through which old Bill skilfully ran his craft ashore on thesandy, seaweedy, mussel-beds, whence the burgh takes its name.

  "Have a care, you scurvy old devil," cried the Captain, as a huge seabroke over the side of the boat, and christened him with its saltspray--"Easy there--where is your seamanship gone? Egad, I'm drenchedlike a water rat."

  "When you've sailed as far as me--you won't swear at a bit dusting likethat--you are but a land-lubber after all!"

  "Stow your venom, you old dogfish, and give us a dram. Ah! here comesanother sea over these accursed sands! Ho! well done, Bill; she wore offlike a gull: jump out, Ned, never mind wetting your boots. Easy, ho!down with the sail, here we go--ashore at last."

  So saying he leaped into the water up to his knees after L'Estrange, andthese two on one side, with old Bill and a German boy on the other,shoved up the smack high and dry.

  "Well, let those like the sea who do--terra firma for me," cried theCaptain, shaking the sea-water off his waterproof cloak. "'The whitewaves heaving high' be d--d! such a pitching and lurching as we'vehad--I am right glad to stand on something solid, arn't you, oldfellow?"

  "I am indeed--and glad to stretch my limbs--so miserably cooped up thislast five hours! what an age it is since I last trod these sands! Oh!could I see how this will turn out!"

  "Where do you steer for now, and where am I to moor myself? Leastways,not here, if I knows it! for it is rascally cold--we'd best run downafter a boosing ken."

  "You are for swilling, no doubt, Bill--you drunken old satyr--always upto filling your barrel-shaped body with liquor! but look you, Bill, wehaven't come all this way to lush. I must be off to the Towers. Blowthis climate, it's always sleeting and raining in this rotten hole! Youand I, L'Estrange, will go and meet Archy, he will have the nags ready;and you, old sot, you may go and be d--d, or swig, or what you like,only be here by the time tide is full, and leave Hans (the boy) to watchover the boat. Give him some grog--for it is infernally cold! Come,Ned."

  The Captain and L'Estrange walked off and left old Bill to find a pump,whilst the unfortunate foreigner was left to watch in the sleet and windwhich blew most chillily over the Links.

  "This is a regular wild goose chase," said the Captain, as he and hisfriend struck out for a small village called Fisherrow, a bleak hamletbetween Musselburgh and Portobello, where Archy was to be in waitingwith horses; "and I only do it as a last hope--you must make up yourmind for a failure--and then remember you are never to speak of thewench again--that was the promise."

  "It was--oh! how my heart seems to sink--in a few hours more I shallknow my fate!"

  "You will--and I am thankful for it. Your whining and teasing after thatwoman are enough to drive a saint mad! On my soul I wonder at you--Idare swear she has never thought of you once! Then there's her child,whatever are we to do with that, supposing our plan succeeds? To be sureit's easy giving it a heave into the sea! But yet it is an awful risk!Carrying off Ellen Ravensworth was one thing, but carrying off theCountess of Wentworth is another! Never mind--nothing like aiming high,as Lucifer once did."

  "And got a grievous fall for his pains too," put in L'Estrange.

  "As we perhaps, nay doubtless, shall!" said the Captain.

  "Had we not better think again? it is not too late yet," saidL'Estrange.

  "It is too late; I haven't come all this way, nor been tossed on thatrough sea for nothing! I tell you, however, I shall go and see only; ifwhat we heard is true and she is alone, it is but a whistle and you comeup, toss her over a nag, brain any flunkeys who interfere, and away overheath and moor to the boatie good! The sea is a road where it is hard totrack a cunning fox like Bill."

  "I almost repent I ever came--after all if she did nothing but cry andlament, I could do nothing. Remember what I said, I will try by words,and if she doesn't come round again, I will take her back scathless."

  "A fool's errand that--you may do what you like after you have got her.I will be shot if I burn my fingers again for her, or any other womanunder the sun! But here we are at last--I will whistle."

  The Captain--for though he no longer had a right to the name, we stillknow him best by it--then blew a shrill whistle. It was answered, andpresently Archy Forbes appeared.

  "Glad to see ye baith looking sae weel--it's ay a saft night when we areabout."

  "It is, Archy my boy! it's easy to see Heaven doesn't smile on us--butdevil's weather for me! Have you the nags?"

  "Surely, surely--they are in yon byre--follow me."

  "Who are at the Towers, Archy?" said L'Estrange.

  "Dinna speer on me, sir! I have na been there this mony a day. Sin myfather was dead and gane--Heaven rest him! the gear a' went wrang, andmy mither and the bairns left. The laird wasna pleased, and folk say hekent mair than was right anent your honour's business, and thae----"

  "Peace, fool, who wants to hear about your concerns? If you had foundout who were at the Towers you might have been somewhat worth listeningto. Where is this byre, or what d'you call it?"

  "It's near by noo, yon dark house, wi' the reek frae the chimla."

  "All right--there's your hire--and now decamp and find out old Bill, andtell him to put the cabin in order for fair freight."

  By this time they had reached a wretched stable, or rather cow-house,from which two tolerable horses were produced. The Captain, selectingthe best, was soon mounted, and together they trotted off for theTowers. During the long ride scarcely a word was spoken, except now andthen a hoarse curse on the snow, which now began falling thick and fast,and balled in their horses hoofs, forcing them to dismount several timeson their way. When within a quarter of a mile of the Towers they stoppedat a summer-house or arbour, where L'Estrange was to await the result ofthe Captain's reconnaissance, and if summoned by the whistle ride up atonce to the Towers. This bold and diabolic attempt had been undertaken,owing to a statement which had reached the Captain to the effect thatthe Countess and her infant baby, a fine little girl of nearly threemonths of age, were then staying in perfect seclusion at the Towers, andthe Earl in London on business. Judging themselves able to overcome oldAndrew, and any other footmen, they fancied they could get clear offwith the lady and her child before any of the out-door servants took thealarm, and then their determination was to set sail for the north ofScotland, where L'Estrange madly dreamed he could excite the old love byhis eloquence of woe. He vowed he would restore her safely to her homeagain should he fail, and then fly to America and bury himself from theworld. The Captain took part in the plot, and promised his assistance ifthe little girl was also carried off--Bill was to take care and keep herout of sight, living or dead--and we are authorized in stating thatthough he verbally approved of L'Estrange's plan of returning theCountess, unless she chose to stay with him,--an idea that could onlytake its birth in a mind maddened by a strange delusion,--yet he inlydetermined, if he once got hold of both he would keep them out of sightuntil he could gain a heavy ransom from his brother; for his violentdeeds seemed to have excluded all hopes of his ever succeeding to thetitle even if he got rid of the heirs.

  Leaving L'Estrange at the arbour, the Captain wrapped himself up in acostly cloak of sable fur, and rode for the Towers, which he reached alittle past ten in the evening. The brilliant lights first excited hisfears that the rumour wa
s a false one; however, he rang the bell andwaited to see the result. Whilst he is waiting we will take a view ofthe dining-room and its inmates. About a dozen gentlemen are sittingover their wine after dinner. The Earl at the head of the table--nexthim the Marquis--all the rest are strangers but two, young Scroop andMr. Lennox.

  "I wonder what has become of the Captain?" said the Earl; "except thesescandals, which I hope are worthless, we never hear a word of him, orhis friend."

  "Their names," said the Marquis, "are, I fear, famous for infamy; whileJohn kept to a few harmless revels, and only now and then an affair_d'honneur_, I didn't care; but shooting fellows at every town, is toowild by half!"

  At the same moment the door opened, and a tall figure, so muffled in furas to be almost irrecognizable, entered. Old Andrew appeared gigglingbehind.

  "Hallo! old fellows," said the figure, throwing off his cloak; "here Iam again. By Jove! this snug room, and these merry fellows make me feeljolly. Andrew, you knave, get some hot punch, blest if I am not halffrozen--I will thaw anon and welcome old friends, wait till I have gotsome life in me," approaching the fire.

  Old Andrew, grinning with joy, hastened to get the punch as he knew theCaptain liked it, whilst all his old allies gathered round him, andbeset him with questions on all sides.

  "Preserve me from my friends; why, you will be driving me into the fire,and one in a family is enough for it. Egad, I am thawing now: how areyou, Wentworth, hearty, and you Arranmore, old boy? I was very sorry forpoor dear Edith; how the devil did she go and manage to get burned? ah,I see you are still tender about it; never mind, time will cure you ofthe burn. And you, Scroop: ha! bless my soul, I am gladder to see youwell than any; shake hands, old fellow, no malice. And you, Lennox; byJove, this reminds me of old times. Where's Johnny Ravensworth?"

  "He is at Sandhurst, preparing for the line. My father-in-law hassucceeded to a nice little property in the Highlands, and Ellen--youhavn't asked me about my wife."

  "Egad, I quite forgot her. I'll warrant her flourishing from yourface;--and your little boy--"

  "No, no, little girl; it was rather a disappointment, but she is adarling child."

  "Never mind, better luck next time; do you not think so, Wentworth?Come, let us sit down and hear about all my friends. Ha, Scott, Ithought I knew you; and Trevors too,--keen after the hounds as ever,squire?"

  "As ever, but this weather is bad for us, it's like snow, I fear."

  "Like it; it is snowing like fury now. Egad it was balling in avalancheson my nag's hoofs."

  "Oh, you rode then?" said the Earl.

  "I didn't exactly walk, as my boots and spurs might have told you, butwhere I came from I won't say; the fox doesn't show where it earths, andI mustn't show my face by aught than lamplight."

  "Then I fear your evil reports are true,--you have been making theContinent too hot for you."

  "My evil reports,--if you mean by that my duels,--are certainly not fewand far between; but it isn't my fault, if those rascally foreignerswill quarrel so. Egad, they will find one Englishman a match for twentyof their cowardly selves. I'll whip them into order. But it is sheriff'sofficers that I fear here, and when I've had my grog, and seen thegirls, I must put a dozen miles between us."

  "I am sorry for that; but remember the Towers are safe, no sheriff'sofficer puts his head in here."

  "I know that, but then I have a friend waiting--Czinsky." Scroop lookeduneasy.

  "Why didn't you bring him here?" said the Earl.

  "He wouldn't come; he's waiting a dozen miles from this, and I must soonbe off."

  "Stay, we can send. Do rest a day or two," said the Earl.

  "No use pressing, I can't. I don't mean to be rude, only God knows Ican't stop. Ring the bell, Lennox, please; what is that stupid villainAndrew about?"

  "Here, Captain, here; het, strang, and sweet, isna that your song? an'how are ye? weel to dae?" said the old servant, bringing in a large bowlof smoking punch.

  "Egad, this is the stuff on a snowy night. It's always snowing here itseems. Do you remember the night I hooked it, after nailing Musgrave,poor devil--I hope he was decently interred. By Jove, I was very sorry Ihit him where I did; he was a good fellow, and here's to his health, andyours, Scroop; and as you love me don't quarrel."

  "If little quarrels make great friends, sharp cuts make blunt ones. Whyyou drive your rapier through and through a fellow, like a spit througha partridge, and then talk of being good friends again! however, I willdrink your health, and the further we fly the tighter we'll tie! I'vehad enough of close friendship with you."

  "Come, I believe you are angry after all. Never mind, _chacun a songout_, nothing like being on good terms with the man that eats you. Ha!ha! ha!"

  After emptying another bowl with the Marquis and one or two others whoremained behind to hear the Captain's adventures, whilst the Earl, whodidn't exactly like to ally himself again with such a scapegrace, andthe remaining guests joined the ladies, the Captain rose, exclaimingwith an oath he must be on his travels. He however went up stairs to seeLady Florence and the Countess; the first received him with sisterlywarmth of welcome, whilst the reception he met with from the latter wascold, and politely frigid in the extreme. He asked to see the littlegirl, and was shown by the Countess and his sister to the next room,where in a handsome cot the infant slept. Lady Wentworth bent over itwith a mother's love, whilst the Captain looked gloomily on the littlefeatures of her, who at any rate would cut him out of his prospects. Tothe question if he did not think her a lovely child he answered, "Everybaby, he supposed, was thought lovely by its mother; however, she didseem much above the usual run of children." He then came back to thedrawing-room, shook hands with those he knew, and departed asmysteriously as he came. Mr. Lennox and the Marquis saw him off, andeach returned disgusted by his parting sally. As he shook hands withLord Arranmore he observed:

  "I say, Arranmore, that flare up you were to give after the Earl'swedding was one with a vengeance. Egad it made me laugh in my sorrow forpoor Edith."

  The Marquis, totally unprepared for such a heartless jest, drew himselfup to his full height, saying:

  "De Vere, I never knew you before; henceforth let all intercourse ceasebetween us. Inhuman vampire, thus jesting on the death of your sister. Idiscard your friendship for ever."

  "Nay, but--"

  "I hear you not," said the Marquis, striding away.

  "Well I'm d--d, that scurvy joke makes every one so infernally wrath!After all, Lennox, it wasn't a bad one, was it?"

  "Mr. de Vere," said Mr. Lennox.

  "Stay, give me my rank, you saucy fool, or by G--d I'll lay this whipabout you."

  "Captain de Vere then, if you like, a word in your ear; stay, I mustspeak low," he said, going up to him close. "It surprises me, sir, youdared to show your face. I have long suspected you, and lately found outyour share in the abduction; you are here on no good to-night, andunless you will give me your word you will again leave these shoresbefore twenty-four hours, I will tell the Earl my suspicions."

  "Hark you, my pert coxcomb, if I did not think it beneath me to touchsuch a reptile as you, I would give you what would shut your mouth up;you may live to repent this, Mr. Lennox. As for your threats, I heedthem no more than yourself, and you have my full leave to proclaim yoursuspicions, but egad you'll suffer, though I am safe in ten minutes.Who'll track me with the snow falling like this? Now you may go and behanged, and hold your secrets if you are wise."

  So saying he rode off in the blinding snow, leaving Mr. Lennoxpetrified. He did tell his suspicions to the Earl, however, and a watchwas kept up all that night, as several others felt perplexed at thissingular appearance, and sudden departure of such a bird of prey. Whenthe Captain reached the arbour he found L'Estrange buried in such areverie his heavy arm only awoke him from it.

  "It is useless then. Oh! my God! I am truly most ill-starred."

  "If you don't want to be manacled and prisoned you will be up and away;there are a dozen stout fellows at the Tow
ers, and havn't I just stirredup a wasp's nest,--we shall feel their stings if you are not sharp.Confound the snow-storm, and yet it is a friend in need to-night."

  Without another word the two remounted, and rode off for the beach,where they found the tide had already floated the craft.

  "No fair freight to-night, Bill," said the Captain, "and now let us beaboard and away; it is well, Bill, you know the steerage of these seas;in such a storm of snow as this it is pretty dangerous."

  "Never a fear; I can take her through as if the sun was blazing," saidold Bill. "The auld country be cussed, and hoora for Italy!"

  "Yes, hurra for Naples! No such nights as these, Bill. Come, Ned, whatthe devil are you dreaming of? Remember you have done with her. Hurrafor sunny lands, fleet steeds, and bonny black eyes!"

  L'Estrange silently took his place in the small lugger. Hans and oldBill spread the sail, the Captain took the rudder. After one or twosousers, they got under weigh, and steered for the schooner, which layin the Leith roads, and was ready to carry them to Italy.

  Despite the snow, Bill and the Captain sang sea songs, and drank grog,but vainly attempted to rouse their sombre companion. He was miserable;he was leaving Albion for the last time as far as he knew,--leaving hiscountry--leaving his hopes, his fears, his everything. It was a severewrench. Bad as he was, he was not like the Captain, without oneredeeming quality; amid all the vice, guilt, and blackness of his heart,one star shone--the brighter in contrast to the darkness around it. Thesnow drifted heavily on him, he shook it not off, he felt it not; asense of utter sickness and despair was at his heart: he knew all washis own doing--he sighed now only for her _friendship_, only to seeher--she could not be his wife now, and he was, by a life of guilt andvice, closing even that door of hope. How could a creature so pure, sobeautiful, so refined, look on a wretch like him, so impure, so unholy,so lost to all sense of even shame! Every hour of his present life wasadding another league to the distance that severed her from him in thislife, as every bound his vessel made was adding another wave to the manythat rolled between them. He wished the next billow would gulph theirfrail boat; alas! it rode them like a seagull, and seemed as if itmocked his misery and laughed at his woe. He was lost--not even theprospect of meeting her above. A gulph--a great gulph was fixed betweenthem; she couldn't love him; he loved her still, though he felt he darednot look up to her, so vile had he become. He was roused from this dreamby the clanging of the coupling chains, which showed they had reachedthe schooner. More dead than alive he was hoisted up, and soon sailswere spread,

  "And, shrouded as they go, In a hurricane of snow,"

  they soon made for the open main. When poor L'Estrange next woke,nothing but waters were around him, and old England, and all good, alldelightful, all virtuous, left on the lee. He then tried to nervehimself up; he drank, he swore like the rest, and even joined in thesong--

  "Why so pale and wan, fond lover?"

  with its ending lines,--

  "If of herself she will not love Nothing can make her."

  "Ha! grown wise at last," said the Captain; "'let the devil take her,'and wine and laughter for us!"

  L'Estrange's heart still beat true, and though he laughed, sang, andseemed after this the gayest of the gay, all was false. Often, when onhis lone couch, on the lonely billow, his eyes would fill with bittertears as he thought on what he was now, and what he had been; as hethought how sad a contrast his present loveless wicked life was to thatof former years, he would cry with Byron--

  "I look around, and cannot trace One friendly smile, or welcome face; And even in crowds am still alone Because I cannot love but one."

 

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