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

by Johannes Scotus

  CHAPTER XIII.

  "Oh, God! it is a fearful thing To see the human soul take wing In any shape, in any mood: I've seen it rushing forth in blood.

  * * * * *

  I've seen the sick and ghastly bed Of sin delirious with its tread." _Prisoner of Chillon._

  On his restless couch lay Captain John de Vere, the dying brigand. Hewas mortally wounded, though the deep gash had been bound, and theoutward flow of blood stayed, yet he felt a pang which told him thewound bled internally, and he could not but feel it was for his life.Death is a grand tryer; and when the bold sinner felt that within himwhich, in unmistakeable language, silently told him that in a few hoursat most he would quit a life of crime and bloodshed, and enter on anendless existence of misery, or total annihilation, (for he was aprofessed infidel,) even his stout heart somewhat quailed! He felt thefirm ground--the _terra cognita_--giving way; the reed on which he heldfailing him. He was about to make that dread leap in the dark, and toappear before an offended Deity; for though he professed to disbelievein the existence of God, his heart belied his voice. He was in a burningfever--faint from loss of blood and parched with the death-thirst!--hefelt the slow trickle of his life-blood inly welling! Oh! how his tongueseemed scorching, as if a foretaste of the quenchless fires of hell! Heturned over on his side, a thrill of agony shot through him, and heagain relapsed to his former position, and lay on his back. He hadturned to see if there was any one with him; he was alone, save his owndark thoughts,--they were with him! The couch on which he lay was raisedon a slight bedstead that stood against the naked rock-walls of thecave. The apartment itself was a small cavern, opening into the largercave in which the band lived,--it was his own private cell!

  It was dimly lighted by a single wax candle of large dimensions, whoselight counterfeited gloom on the dark rocks, hung with weapons, whichglimmered in the uncertain rays. A large oaken table, very low, stood inthe centre of the cave; on it were placed several bunches of grapes anda glass vessel of water,--but beyond the sufferer's reach, tantalizinghim with their proximity. Oh, if he could reach the cooling fruit, andstill more cooling water!--it seemed to aggravate his pain; and oncemore he made an effort to rise. This time he sat upright, andexperienced a certain relief from the change of position; he gazed onthe tempting fruit; but when he further raised his form to strive andreach it, another agonizing pang shot through him; so intense was itspoignancy he could scarcely forbear screaming. He sank back a secondtime, muttering curses on his band.

  "They were ready enough to share my booty!--good friends in health, butat need where are they? False dogs! vile deceivers!--they leave me,their captain, to perish like a brute beast! Bill! Pedro!--some one ofyou--dogs, ingrates!--for the love of God a glass of water!" The lastpart of the sentence was shouted. "They hear me not--they care not forme!--but no, I wrong them," he said, as the curtain which divided hiscave from the larger was pushed aside, and an Italian maiden entered.She was very young, and singularly interesting-looking in face; herbeauty, of a high order, was as yet imperfectly developed; her eyeslarge, dark, and piercing. She approached the dying man with noiselesstread; then in her soft tongue asked if he wanted anything.

  "Yes, child, water--water!--for God's sake! I am parched."

  The maiden poured out a silver goblet-ful from the glass vessel, andbrought it to the sufferer; he seized it as if it had been for his life,and eagerly drained it.

  "Thanks; it is long since I tasted water, signorina, but I never beforedrank wine with such gusto,--egad, it was nectar!"

  "Take some grapes, Capitano," said the girl, offering him a bunch; "theywill cool your tongue. Are you better?--easier from pain?"

  "Ay, better now," exclaimed the Captain, receiving the fruit. "Now tellBill Stacy I want him:--why does he shrink from the sight of death?"

  "He shrinks not from death, but has gone to bring you a priest," saidthe girl. "The Virgin grant you may yet live!"

  She then as noiselessly departed, and once more left the dying man tohis own reflections.

  His thoughts were far from enviable; he felt perhaps remorse--for it wasnot repentance nor grief--for his crimes; and as he recalled them all,the long dark catalogue seemed endless,--terrific! Deeds of rapine andmurder long forgotten revived like adders, and stung him once more;--butit was the agony of lost despair--the echoes of horrid crimes!

  From these thoughts he was roused by the entrance of Bill Stacy, andwith him a Roman Catholic priest.

  "Ha! Bill! you are come at last. Egad! I thought you had clean forgottena wounded mate. But who the devil have you got there? Where did you pickup yon shaveling?--and why bring you accursed priests to my bed?"

  "Your cable is nigh run out; I thought you would like a chaplain mayhap,and brought this fellow along--for I had hard work to prevail on thecussed fool to venture his head here;--but here he is; and he knows ayarn o' long prayers!"

  "My son," said the priest, looking heavenwards as he crossed himself,"look on this blessed sign, and ere life takes wing, ask the bless--"

  But he was cut short by the Captain.

  "Cease your drivelling--idiotical nonsense, or preach to others whobelieve your fables. Egad, you think me dying, but I'll come it yet.Away, old dotard!"

  "Blaspheme not, my son; think upon the blessed Virgin; think on him whoforgave the dying thief."

  "I, the dying thief! be d--d to you. Bill, if you love me, chase thewhining hypocrite from the cave. God's name! had I the strength, I wouldbreak his shaven pate for him."

  "He don't want you, nor do I neither; so spread sail, old monk, and looksharp our lads don't tear your frock off your back or your hide off yourold bones," said Bill, pushing the priest unceremoniously from him bythe way he came in.

  "What in the foul fiend's name brought you that pattering shaven-headedrascal here for?"

  "I told you, but howsomdever let it pass. What did you want me for?"

  "Sit down, Bill. I say, Bill, this cut isn't mortal, is it?"

  "There's small doubt of that: you are overhauled at last. I bound it up,but the blood flows into your hold, when it is full you will sink."

  "You lie, sirrah! and yet--yet, I do feel queery. D--n Ned for avillain; it was a cowardly felon-thrust. You will avenge me, Bill, if Iflit."

  "I promise you. Our band will go to wreck now when their skipper isgone."

  "And yet, Bill, I may come it. I've escaped worse than this."

  "No you havn't; you won't ride out this squall. You are wrecked at last,and on the shoals now."

  "Go to the devil. You are a capital Job's comforter, Bill," said thesinking sinner, trying to laugh.

  "I'm thinking you will see him first. Gin there be a devil he shouldgive you a good berth, since you have helped so many downwards. You'llknow if there be a hell or not this night."

  For some time, as if exhausted by his exertions in speaking, the Captainlay silent and motionless, save that now and then, as if in agony, heground his teeth together or clenched the clothes between his fingers.Old Bill sat silently watching him without a feature moving. Again thedying Captain sat up, and passing his hand over his eyes as if to clearhis vision, said, "Bill, the candle is going out--it is getting dark."

  "It is your own candle going out, and the darkness of death in yourbrain!"

  "You lie, dog, it is false! and yet--yet how dark it grows. The shadowspass quickly; ah! they're gone, I see clear again; and now once morethey come--it grows dark, so dark! Bill, I'm dying--but get brandy, I'veheard it has do--ne won--" He sank back, unable to articulate the finalwords.

  Bill passed some of the burning spirit into his mouth from a flask; itseffect was rapid and wonderful. Once more, fed by the ardent liquidwhich gave a short-lived strength, and, as it were, nourished theflickering lamp of life, the expiring man sat up.

  "More, Bill, more! hurrah for brandy! More, I say. Ha! I begin to seeclearly again. More yet, more! The shadows are gone; I feel new
vigour.Ye gods, I'll come it yet!"

  Bill shook his head.

  "Give me the flask again," said the Captain, ere five minutes wereflown; "the shades fall again; I will drive them to hell! ha! theygo--they go to the devil who sent them; I shall live yet."

  Again he drank the maddening liquid, which in a fearful way buoyed upthe sinking man; but the alcohol and loss of blood combined worked onhis brain and fired it into a kind of frenzy. He sprang up as ifconvulsed, and crouching amid the wolfskins that covered him, like awild beast in his lair, struck at an imaginary foe which seemed to haunthim.

  "Don't you see him, Bill? the fiend; have at him, drive him away."

  "I see nought," replied the old man, still watching him withimperturbable countenance; "who is it you see?"

  "Who?" yelled the wretched man. "D'you ask who? See him at the foot ofmy bed; 'tis the Devil himself."

  "Come to overhaul his son," answered Bill, with a brutal laugh. "Whatlike is he, Jack?"

  "Bill, you are the archfiend's self, to mock me in my last distress. Heis gone, thank God! No, no, there he comes again--will no one scare thedemon hence? Ho! there are more--I see them--they crowd around me--theygibber--they laugh a hellish laugh! All my victims come to daunt me!There is Hesketh, Graham, ye gods! Musgrave too; he points to the redhole in his forehead. Avaunt, fiends, away! you frighten me not, I dareyou one and all. There's Strogonoff--ha! more, by Jove--crowds--thehung, the tortured, the strangled, the drowned--crowds of them, theinfernal niggers! the air is full of their horrid faces! they will tearme. Save me, Bill. Oh, powers of darkness; _she_ too, she is there."

  "Who is there?" said Bill; "you seem to have a good company--a devil'sdance, and women to dance too!"

  "Yes, it is she; then I did murder her. God above! I dreamed I hadfailed, but no, she is there too."

  "She, who is she?"

  "Antonia, Juana, who you like. I may as well make a clean breast ofit--I poisoned her. I feel remorse for her--for none of the rest. Ah!how pale she is! how dull her once glorious eye!"

  "Fiends of hell! you didn't; but you have said it, dog, and for her youdie." And with an expression of horrid ire, the old man sprang from hiscouch and gripped the dying man by his throat.

  "Death, hell, and furies! would you murder me, villain? a dying man. Ho,help! he is throttling me, I cannot breathe--help--let go, dog!"

  "No, I won't defraud death; you may die scatheless, murderer, villain,foul poisoner! if there is a hell you have dearly earned its torments."

  "Leave me, hound, let me die in peace; but stay, give me brandy oncemore, the room gets dark again, scales of blackness seal my eyes. No, Iwill not drink; I am better again, I shall yet live."

  He lay back calm on his pillow, his eye looked bright, he felt lighter,but it was only the dead man's lightening, when the blood flows back tothe seat of life and relieves "the o'ertortured clay;" and what hedreamed was the return of life was only the first touch of death. Itseemed the last mercy accorded to this miserable man that at least heshould die with full possession of his senses.

  "Bill," he said, "forgive me--forget that deed--I am going now--it wasthat fiery liquor distorted my senses. Bill, there is a hell, I feel itsbreath scorch me now!"

  "Will you have the old priest to absolve you like?"

  "No, no, I will die as I have lived; I will meet the devil like a man; Ihave served him all my life; I have sown the wind, why should I play himfalse now, or be amazed if I reap the whirlwind? I have been a greatsinner, but God knows my blood is on your head, Bill; you brought me tothis, and--Oh God!--I am gone! A mortal pang ran me through like aknife--the Devil has hold of my heart! oh, heavens! I die--I d--i--e."

  The death rattle in his throat choked the last words, and the soullessform of what was once John de Vere sank back,--the immortal soul fled toits dread Maker.

  "Ay, he is gone; wild and bad he was, yet he was a fine fellow. I havehad my revenge. The last act remains only to be played out, but hismurder must e'en be avenged," said old Bill, as he lifted the dead man'shand and let it fall nerveless again by his side. At that moment Pedroand a youth of eleven or twelve, though he looked much older, enteredthe chamber of death.

  "How is Luigi? Where is our Captain?" asked Pedro.

  "Luigi is where we shall all be one day, with the master he served!"

  "Alas!" said Pedro, as he approached the bed on which all that was oncehis chief lay. "Alas! my brave Captain, my true friend, thou art laidlow by a felon hand! Thou wert a true brigand,--a bold, fearlessleader,--and what art thou now? inanimate clay--soulless dust! Farewell,Luigi, foreigner though thou wert,--the pride of the banditti, theterror of the Capitanata, the scourge of the Abruzzi! Thou art lost now;dull is the eagle eye--cold the impassioned cheek--nerveless the strongarm--still the high heart. Woe to us now! Who shall lead our bands? whoshall think, plan, fight, and divide the prey? Woe to the hand thatspilt thy blood! We have lost our head to-day; I have lost my friend--myboonfellow! Alas! woe is me!"

  Tears stood in the robber's eyes, to whom the late Captain had been aguiding star and friend--even in crime there is a sort of falseglory--even among robbers a sort of friendship!

  The boy Giovanni, too, leaned over the death-bed.

  "Alas! thou art low, high heart, brave soul! But, like the rays of thesetting sun, a twilight glory lingers yet. Thy life is gone; not so thyexample. The fiery soul lingers still. I feel it swell within me! OurCaptain is gone. I will be leader now. I am young; but it was his will.I am a boy in years--a man in soul. This sword," taking the lateCaptain's blade, "shall not lose its lustre. Call our men in; let themown their chieftain."

  Pedro blew a blast. Silently and sadly the whole band assembled. Theyfilled the room; there were at least seventy bold spirits besides Bill,Giovanni, and Pedro; there was only one of the other sex; she weptbitterly, as she pressed the cold hand of Luigi.

  "Comrades," said Bill, "our gallant Captain is dead!" A groan of rageand sorrow arose from all. "He named Giovanni as his successor. He is astripling--a youth in age; but he will make a worthy Captain. I willtrain him up. Will you acknowledge him? Let those who will hold up theirswords."

  An instant clash of steel took place; not a sword was lacking.

  "Then swear allegiance by your swords; and let the spirit of the dead bewitness!"

  The oath was taken. A sullen silence reigned for an instant.

  "Leonora," said old Bill, "come here."

  The maiden came. He whispered something in her ear. She was about todepart when a noise was heard in the bed where the dead lay. Every eyeturned towards the place. He had been now dead for half an hour atleast, and a shudder thrilled every soul as they saw a faint movementtake place on the lips of the dead. Then two long, harrowing shrieks ofagony rose from the blue lips, and echoed with fearful tones through thecavern! There was not a faint heart there, nor a coward soul; yet whenthey heard that scream twice repeated from the lips of the corpse, not aheart but sunk, nor a cheek but paled! It was a cry as if a hundreddemons seized on the departed, and he yelled as their fiendish gripencircled him!

  Many of the bandits fled in dismay, and hurried in confusion from theinner cave to drown their terror in ardent spirits.

  Old Bill alone approached the body, and pressed his hand on thedeath-cold brow. It was icy. He had been dead long ago!

  "Perhaps," said Pedro, "the incarnate fiend has taken possession of thebody. It were well to get priestly aid, and exorcise him to depart."

  "Perhaps," said Bill, in Italian, "the devil has got into your own head.Tut! it was but the air a rushing from his body. I've heard the likebefore."

  "They were the most awful sounds I ever heard. I shall never forgettheir terror," said Pedro, shaking his head.

  "Thou art a superstitious dog, and frightened by a sound. What if thecarcase itself arose? Could not we fight it as well as a living man?"

  "Old man, you believe in nothing, fear nothing! You English are afraidof neither spirit nor demon. I fear nothing mortal; but spiri
ts frombeyond the grave I do fear; and I care not to say so!"

  "You had better drink another kind of spirit to drive such trash fromyour head," replied Bill, in English, as Pedro had used that tongue,thus giving force to the play on the word. "And, Pedro, see if Leonorabe gone; and get a coffin to stow away our late Luigi in; and leave mehere to lay out the corpse. I'se warrant not one of you cowardly dogswould lay claws on him now."

  "Santa Maria! no! I am well pleased to be away."

  Pedro, Giovanni, and the few remaining brigands then left the old manand the corpse together, and broached a cask of Falernian to drive awaytheir terrors. In silver goblets they drank their late Captain's health;his quick delivery from purgatory; and vowed gold to purchase hisredemption; as well as swore to avenge his death, if they got hold ofthe slayer; an important "if," for Adrian Vardarelli was esteemed acunning man, who would not easily be taken.