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

Home > Other > The Weird of the Wentworths: A Tale of George IV's Time, Vol. 2 > Page 16
The Weird of the Wentworths: A Tale of George IV's Time, Vol. 2 Page 16

by Johannes Scotus


  CHAPTER XVI.

  "He that dies pays all debts."--_The Tempest._

  "However deeply stained by sin, He is thy brother yet."

  When the Earl found himself thus mysteriously deserted, his next desirewas to find out by what secret passage his guide had departed. He turnedround, and saw a narrow passage cut out of the naked rock, which seemedthe only outlet from the cavern he was left in; a black curtain, made ofskins of animals, hung from the ceiling across this doorway. Havingdiscovered the road by which his guide had conveyed herself away, hethen thought of following her; but on second thoughts resolved to awaitthe issue, as he might otherwise come on some very unpleasant sort offellows. So he began to look about him.

  The scene in which his eyes were again opened was sufficiently strange,and kept up the romantic incidents of the evening. He was the soleinmate of a cavern, formed by nature, but enlarged by art; it might beeighteen feet in length by ten in breadth; the roof, which was cut intoan arched shape, was not more than eight, or at the most eight and ahalf feet above the ground; the walls were roughly squared out of thelimestone rock, and were hung, like the sides of an armoury, with allkinds of offensive and defensive weapons,--muskets, sabres, rapiers,pikes, spears, pistols, cutlasses, knives, and stilettos of all sizesand shapes! A ledge of rock ran half way round the cavern, about twofeet from the ground, which was strewed with rushes; this served as abench, and was not an uncomfortable one, if we might judge from thenumerous wolf skins that covered it. At the extreme end of the room, ifwe may so call it, was a low bed,--the same on which Luigi had, a fewhours since, yielded his soul to Him who gave it.

  There was another object, however, which chiefly attracted the Earl'sattention; on a low table which stood about the centre of the chamber,or dungeon, or cavern, whichever the reader pleases to dignify it by,stood a most solemn piece of furniture in the shape of a coffin; itsornaments, if it had any, were hidden by a pall of black velvet, with afringe of silver lace-work, showing great taste in design, which,streaming downwards till it swept the ground, completely shut out anyview of the coffin itself, or its occupant, if it had one. At the head,the foot, and the two shoulders were placed four handsome silvercandelabra with wax tapers lighted, to a fanciful eye denoting thefigure of a cross; this design was further borne out by two swords,which were placed crosswise, but St. Andrew's cross, and not the Crosswas shadowed by them.

  There is always something solemn, even to a healthy and strong person,in the narrow bed in which at last all must lie down! it seems to remindthe living they too must die; it is an object on which few can gazewithout feeling a sense of dread! In our hero's situation there was muchto increase these sensations, which he would have doubtless had at anytime, but which at the present moment came with unusual force on hismind. He stood alone, amid a den of thieves and murderers, to which hehad been wiled by a mysterious guide. Why was he there? For what reasonhad he been brought hither? He looked on that grim reminder of mortalitywith awe! He thought of the tyrant of Rome,--how Domitian had introducedhis guests to a dark room, where they saw their coffins, and where blackmen armed rushed in to terrify them! Had he been thus brought,--was thatnarrow box to be his last resting-place? He felt a sickening feeling ofhorror creep over him. He was a brave man, and had it been in open daywould have made a stand against any number; but to be immured in such aplace,--so secret no mortal else could penetrate to him, or assist him;to be brutally butchered, perhaps cruelly tortured first; to die alone;his fate to be hid for ever; his body to moulder in these vaults; allwas awful!--no wonder he felt terror! He thought too of his home, of hisfond wife, his only child, and all his friends,--they would never knowhow or where he had died! Even now perhaps Ellen was seeking him withtears! alas! she would never find his lurking-place,--she would have nothread to pierce the labyrinth! Oh! the hours,--perhaps years ofdespairing hope,--years would give no clue! How he cursed the hour helistened to that tale! How he despised himself for his credulity! a kindof giddy feeling came over his brain; a dizzy haze rose before his eyes.The coffin and its black pall, and dim lights were there, but they grewdim, and still dimmer! Was it a dream after all? He pressed his handover his eyes; he withdrew it again;--no, it was real, horribly true!Again that sickening, sinking feeling crushed him! He looked for a seat;there was the wolf skin covered ledge: he walked towards it, and thensank away. He soon felt better; the giddiness passed away, and he beganonce more to soliloquise.

  "Yes," he said, almost aloud, "there is no doubt of it: Luigi has luredme hither by means of my interest in this pretty Italian,--for what Idare not think! I have been properly cozened,--nicely hoodwinked! On mysoul, I seem to deserve my fate as a punishment for my folly! What haveI done?--left a fond wife, an only child, friends, home,everything,--all to follow a handsome girl, across a country whererobbers are as plentiful as hazel nuts! A wild, hair-brained fool I havebeen, and am likely to pay the piper for it too! A pretty mess to getinto!--left alone in a den of murderers, in the power of the fierceLuigi,--a man without even the mercy of wild wolves, for they kill atonce, whilst he leaves me in sickening suspense. I would I knew theworst at once,--anything is better than uncertainty. But then Leonora!could she be so false,--surely all her love for me was not a cheat? Ican scarcely think so. Who is she? Perhaps Luigi's daughter. Ha! I haveit now: and she is perhaps laughing at my credulity! What is her word toa heretic? She can get absolved from her vow by the next priest! It is acomfortable creed the Roman Catholic: a nice one for robbers, murderers,and cheats. I wonder all wicked men are not Catholics! But why am Ihere? They will get little from me,--my watch and half a dozen pieces ofgold; surely for this I have not been brought here? If they wanted myblood they could have had it a dozen times; the man I met whenblindfolded,--a stab in the back would have done the business,--a pushoff the bridge by my fair guide! After all, matters are not so bad;there may be something behind all this seeming mystery. Leonora may bemy friend; I surely wrong her; vice could never assume such a winningguise; falsehood never lurked beneath an open brow like hers! I will'bide my sugh,' as we say over the Tweed; I may live to laugh over allthis yet,--although that coffin is no laughing matter, God knows! Iwould I had anything else in the room,--it scares one out of his usualcoolness! I hope there is not a corpse inside! Old Andrew would say,'it's no canny.' I declare I will go and have a peep under thecloth,--perhaps there is a friend in it, after all, and I am left toread the riddle; he will think me a slow guesser."

  The change of thoughts had so altered his feelings he leaped up quitelike himself again, and was about to put his plan into execution, whenhe heard loud voices and oaths, in Italian, English, and other tongues,alarmingly near.

  "Ho!" he said, almost aloud, "after all, first thoughts are true, andLuigi's ruffians come to give me cause to know them; but, by heaven! wewill have a fight,--they shall not kill me like a fox run to earth!there are stores of weapons here; I'll sell my life dearly; some of themshall know 'it is ill fashing wi' a desperate man,' as my northernfriends say; they'll find what it is to beard a lion at bay!"

  Whilst he was uttering all this between his clenched teeth, he caught asword off the wall, and two pistols; the latter he cocked,--they wereready loaded; he looked at the flints--for percussion had not got toItaly yet--they were dry, so was the priming; holding one in each hand,he placed the sword across the coffin in easy reach, and stood preparedfor any odds. His bold spirits rose with the danger; the blood mountedto his cheeks; his eye brightened; he felt his heart beat full,--notwith fear, but eager excitement,--the high resolve to die like a hero!It was a perfect picture! With one foot advanced, he stood ready, apistol in either hand, with their tubes pointed to the ground, the swordwithin reach, unsheathed. He waited in this attitude nearly twominutes,--the voices had ceased, all was silent.

  "He seems determined to try my patience," he thought; "he will have thewarmer reception; for, now I think of it, I will have a knife for closework; they at least give one weapons enough for defence."

  He st
retched to secure a stiletto off the wall, still keeping his gazeon the doorway; he reached one down, and placed it on the pall besidethe sword; but in taking it from the nail on which it hung, heaccidentally pulled down a couple of cutlasses immediately above; theyfell with a loud clanging on the rocky flooring. At the same moment heheard a footstep approaching,--the heavy tramp rang through the archedpassage.

  "Now for it," he said; "shall I shoot the villain directly he enters, orhear what the scoundrel has to say? The last is best; it is but a singlefellow, and, at the worst, I will show him two can play at this game."

  The step came nearer, and sounded louder and louder. The Earl waited inbreathless expectation; the curtain moved,--it was pushed aside, and afigure entered. A look of surprise passed over the Earl's face: he hadexpected to see a fine, showily-dressed brigand,--probably LuigiVardarelli himself; instead of that, he saw in the figure before him anold weather-beaten tar, not in the picturesque garb of the banditti, butin a fisherman's costume. The man had a hangdog look; his features werecoarse and repulsive; a ghastly scar seamed his brow; his lank hair wasgrizzled and matted; his beard and whiskers tangled more grizzly still,and besprinkled with snuff; he wore a rough pilot jacket, and heavyfisherman's boots, which reached up to his hips; his figure short, butbroad as a bear; his expression at once gloomy and fierce. His grotesquedress, in such a den,--a man so wholly unexpected, so out of place--wasso ridiculous, that the Earl could resist no longer, and throwing hispistols down right and left, regardless of the danger of theirexploding, he burst into a merry fit of laughter.

  The old man,--none other than Bill Stacy, as the reader must haveguessed,--regarded this outburst of jocularity with savage scorn; andwhen the Earl seemed to have regained his composure,

  "The deevil take your daffin and laughin'!" said old Bill, who had notforgotten all his Scotch, "is this a place for your whiggery, think you,and the dead sae near? And what, in the fiend's name, have you loadedyourself with slashers, barkers, and whingers?--what the deevil have youto fear,--can't you trust old Bill?"

  "Upon my word, my good man, I was expecting such a totally differentguest, your appearance quite upset me! To your questions,--my being hereis the best answer to them, and proves I fear you not. Trust you I didnot; and being unarmed, and not knowing but that a dozen ruffians wouldbe on me, I armed myself. It seems I had no need, and what I thoughtwould be a tragedy, turns out a comedy. Ha! ha! ha!"

  "Stow your ill-timed jesting, or I'll soon teach you, my Lord, where yebe, and all your arms will avail ye but little!"

  The brutal manners of this old man proved to the Earl he was not yet outof danger, and he said, "I believe, old man, you are William Stacy. Ihave heard of you before. I have come many miles, and am in a hurry tobe off again, so speed me my errand and let me be gone. I assure youthis cave is not the lodging I desire for the night."

  "Hark ye," cried Bill, with a terrific oath, "how do you know you willever leave it? what if it were your lodging for aye? we are alone, whatwould hinder me from knocking you on the head?"

  "If my death is your object, you had better go and call your fellowmurderers. I fear you not, old man; I can hold my own against you--comeon--I dare you--one at a time--fair play!" said the Earl, reaching thesword with his hand, and taking it off the coffin.

  Old Bill looked at him with surprise not unmingled with pleasure.

  "Put it down, you need not fear, I was but jesting. Had I wanted yourblood, young man, what had hindered me frae taking it this threetimes?--sit ye down, I have that to tell you will make you open yourglimmers."

  "I fear not," said the Earl; "delay me however no longer; my wife willbe anxious for my return."

  "She maun e'en wait," said Bill.

  He sat down, relieved at least from his worst apprehensions.

  "And now," said the old man, still standing, "d'you ken where ye havegot to?"

  "Indeed," said the Earl, "I thought it was to Luigi's cave, but yourappearance forbids me to think so now."

  "Luigi," said Bill, "ay, ay,--his den, and so it is--but sma' harm couldhe do now, though folk knew what he could do this forenoon!"

  "Then you are implicated in the dreadful murder of my friends. I passedthe place and saw the horrid relics; there were many bodies there; thefight must have been a sharp one."

  "A hard one it was," said the old man, "albeit I didna see it--yourfriend was betrayed, your own gear plundered! The _collieshangie_[G] wasa fearful one our men say. The younger of the gentlemen made a stand--hewas soon done for, and then the Vardarelli, d--n 'em, fought for thelassie. Adrian gave Luigi a stab with his knife that did the businessfor him, and rode away with the wench, devil knows where. Luigi, that'sthe captain, sughed awa', and he lies in yon box," pointing to thecoffin.

  "Wretched man! is he gone to his account? He was a true ruffian, andthis Adrian has escaped! but whose were all the other bodies?"

  "Aweel, I'll tell you--whilst these two fought like game cocks, a fleetof those cussed sbirri hove in sight, and would have overhauled 'em, butthe Skipper gave 'em warning--they fought like born fiends, deil a aneof the sbirri cleared away, but the Skipper died!"

  "A good riddance I think; but how does this concern me, save that I hearmy friends were cruelly murdered, my property plundered, and themiscreant who did it is dead?"

  "Lift up yon cloth, and take a look at the dead man," said Bill, with acruel smile.

  The Earl rose: he approached the table, and first lifting the swordsoff, then pushed aside the pall, disclosing a very handsome coffinelaborately ornamented in inlaid silver, being itself formed of polishedblack wood, probably ebony. Folding the pall he placed it aside, andthen proceeded to raise the lid, which was as yet unscrewed. A man infull brigand dress, or rather what was once a man, lay there--cold,motionless! A white handkerchief was spread over the features. The Earlpaused--Luigi was certainly a fine specimen he thought; upwards of sixfeet in length, and proportionally broad, his tall figure was peculiarlywell set off by the dress he wore--the black jacket, with trimmings ofsilver, the scarlet sash in which still were confined his pistols, andstilettos, black velvet breeches, and black leather buskins; his armswere folded across his breast, and so lifelike did the dead man seem,that the Earl paused a moment, half suspecting that the figure wouldleap up, and end the play by confronting him, and daring him to singlecombat. Bill Stacy seeing him pause said--

  "Lift the napery, and see if ye ken the face."

  The Earl did so. Angel of death! who lay there but John de Vere, hisbrother? no marvel he started back,--no wonder he turned pale. Lifelike, but dead, he lay before him. He was little altered since hisbrother had last seen him. Crime and bloodshed had given a morerelentless aspect to his face, hotter suns had burned his complexionstill darker, but the eye so fiery scarce closed, and the stillness ofdeath had given an air of rigidity to his wild features. A frown hadstiffened on his brow, and the last agony of death had impressed avengeful scowl on his lips--the invariable effect of sword, or daggerwounds. Yes, that eye was for ever sealed.

  "Still, like a clouded gem, from its dull shroud Of lifelessness, its look was high and proud; And, though his brow deep melancholy confest, Oh! yet it lacked the air of perfect rest, As though it wist not where that rest to seek, And felt an anguish that it could not speak."

  The Earl again approached, and gazed steadfastly on the face of thedead: he then turned away, as if he could endure the sight no more, andin an altered voice asked Bill--

  "How came he here? how died he? speak, mysterious man!"

  "I told you Adrian--that is Ned L'Estrange--and he fought for thelassie; Ned stuck his knife in him; that's how he came here."

  "That was Luigi, but L'Estrange you said--my brain is addled, what isall this?"

  "'Tis plain enough," said Bill; "the Captain was Luigi, and NedL'Estrange was Adrian, and Ned, d--n him, killed the Captain."

  "And this king of robbers, this Luigi, was my brother! Good God! I hadheard he was not what people though
t, little I dreamed who he was! andL'Estrange, Adrian! That man seems born my evil angel: he ran away withmy betrothed, escaped from justice, and has now killed my brother! whereis he, old man? he dies for my brother."

  "Didna I tell ye he gave leg bail, and has given a wide berth to oldBill; he kens better than run foul of him. Cuss him for killing theCap."

  "Luigi my brother! strange, strange," said the Earl, again approachingthe corpse. "Alas, John! to what have you fallen?--a brigand, and nowperished by the sword you too well used. Alas! alas! Still with all thyvices, thou art my brother yet. Death pays all debts but one, the debtof vengeance, and surely and bloodily thou shalt be avenged! and now,"he continued, addressing Bill again, "tell me the mystery of her whobrought me here."

  "All in good time, my Lord. I have much to tell you yet; old Bill canspin a long yarn."

  "I doubt it not, but delay me no more now; let me return home, I willcome again and hear all to-morrow--I give you my promise--but not now; Imust see about my murdered friends, arrange about the interment of mypoor assassinated brother, set the bloodhounds after the miscreant whomurdered him, and----"

  "Stay, not so fast, you can't steer from here before you know all; whenyou hear who Ned L'Estrange is you won't be so keen to follow him. Youmust stay, I command you; sit down, sit down: if I whistled the roomwere full of those who would make you anchor long enough; the time iscome, I have been revenged, the murder must out."

  "I see I must stay then. In truth I know not how I could thread my wayout--you will tell me then who that girl is."

  "Ay, ay, I see you have a misgiving about the little craft; they say inthe auld country, 'tis a wise bairn who kens his father, and I say it isa wise father who kens his ain bairn, and ye may een make what you willfrom that. But it will be a long yarn, and you had as well get somethingaboard your stomach."

  "I can eat nothing," said the Earl; "I pray you begin at once."

  "Ha, ha, you had better rouse up first, and weet your whistle, ye'llneed it," and so saying the old man called: a bandit in full costumeentered with wine and a couple of goblets. When he had retired the oldman poured a goblet full, and handed it to the Earl, who felt the needof it too strongly to refuse so good an offer, and drained it off,declaring the wine excellent. Bill, without the formality of pouring itinto the tazza, put the bottle to his mouth--it was one of pig'sskin--and took a long draught; then dragging a cask from beneath thetable he sat down on it; and fixing his eyes on the Earl, who hadreseated himself on the skin-covered ledge, commenced his narrative. Wemust however refer the reader to another chapter, and will also give itin good English, instead of the mixture of Scotch, sea phrases, oaths,and various scraps from many countries, in which it was spun, reservingonly a few sea terms, or expressive words.

 

‹ Prev