Roger Kyffin's Ward
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release."
"Oh! thank you, sir, thank you," exclaimed Mabel, expressing by herlooks more than by her words what she felt.
The minister rang the bell, and ordered the two seamen to be admitted.In a short time there was a scuffling outside. The door opened, andJacob Tuttle and Jack Veal appeared, one urging on the other, as ifneither liked to be the first to enter. They held their hats in theirhands, pulling away at their locks as they would have done addressing anofficer on the quarter-deck. Lady Hester looked on with an amusedcountenance as the minister cross-questioned them as to the part theirshipmate had taken in the mutiny.
"He took no part at all, please you, sir, for I don't call writingletters with a pistol held at a man's head taking part in the mutiny,and I know for certain that he hated it as much as any one. Besides,sir, when we proposed striking the red flag, and carrying the ship upthe river, he heartily joined the loyal part of the crew, and a prettysevere tussle we had, too, before we got possession of the ship andhanded it over to the officers."
Jack Veal corroborated what Jacob had said, and Mr. Pitt drew forth aconsiderable amount of further evidence which satisfied him that ifthese witnesses spoke the truth, Andrew Brown's guilt was not of anature to merit death. At last he turned to Mabel.
"I have no hesitation in recommending his Majesty to pardon the youngman in whom you are interested. His story is, I have no doubt, aromantic one, and I do not wish to add to the romance by allowing him tofinish his career at the yard-arm. You need have no fear, therefore,young lady, on that score. I will send down a reprieve, and will alsogive you a paper, which will secure a full pardon for your friend onbeing signed by his Majesty. I must wish you good evening, and I amglad that my niece, Lady Hester, who is staying with me for a few days,has brought the matter before my notice."
Without waiting to hear the expressions of gratitude which Mabel andMrs. Barbara felt disposed to pour forth, the great minister left theroom. Lady Hester warmly congratulated them on the success of theirmission, and assured them that she cordially sympathised with them.Jacob, forgetting where he was, on hearing that Harry was to bepardoned, threw up his hat, and in his delight uttered a loud shoutexclaiming--
"Bless you, my lady! Bless Mr. Pitt, and the King, and all the RoyalFamily! If I had as many lives as a cat, I would gladly spend them allin the service of so good a King and so noble a minister."
On entering the carriage, Mabel sank back into the arms of Mrs. Barbara,and gave way to her feelings in a flood of tears.
"Oh, he will be saved!" she exclaimed; "I scarcely dared hope it tillnow."
At length Mabel appeared somewhat to recover her composure, and worn outby anxiety of mind and the fatigue she had gone through, at length sankto sleep in the arms of her friend. They did not reach home till a latehour. Scarcely conscious, Mabel was carried to bed. Her dreams werefar more happy than they had been for many a day. She and her kindfriend looked forward with anxiety to the return of Mr. Kyffin on thefollowing day. He arrived before noon with the intelligence that thegovernor of the prison had received the minister's reprieve for Harry.That afternoon had been fixed for the review of the volunteers in HydePark. Mabel felt sure that his Majesty would, if he had an opportunity,immediately sign the pardon which the minister had given her.
It was a lovely day. The sun shone brightly forth from an uncloudedsky, and from the various avenues of approach troops marched up to theground preceded by their bands of music and colours flying--infantry,cavalry, and artillery. The most numerous corps was that of the CityLight Horse. Some of the companies, however, were dismounted andmarched on foot. Others came in long cars, with their rifles betweentheir knees, while a band of well-equipped horsemen rode up at the headof the regiment, their glittering arms and handsome dressesdistinguishing them from the men of other corps. The privates, as wellas the officers, were all gentlemen, a considerable number of them menof fortune and independence. One spirit animated every regiment alike--ardent love of their country, and a determination, if called upon, tofight bravely and to die in her defence.
Mr. Kyffin and Mabel waited for a favourable opportunity of approachingthe King, for Mabel's anxiety would brook no delay, and she was afraidthat he might return to Windsor without signing the paper.
At length the King drew up, preparatory to the troops marching past.The time seemed favourable, as there was an open space near his Majestyby which she could approach. Dressed in deep mourning, and leaning onMr. Kyffin's arm, her countenance radiant with beauty, her colourheightened by excitement, she drew near to the King. One of theequerries observing her, inquired what she wanted.
"It is not the right moment to approach his Majesty," he answered.
The King, hearing what was said, turned his head, and seeing her,exclaimed--
"Ah! my dear young lady, how can I help you? What is it? Will not Mr.Pitt advise me to pardon the young mutineer?"
"Oh! yes, your Majesty. He has given me a proper document which onlyrequires your Majesty's signature, but every moment is of consequence.It is cruel to have him kept in that dreadful prison, and I dread lestby any mistake he may be carried off and executed."
Mabel could scarcely bring herself to utter these words. The Kingsmiled.
"No fear of that, I trust, my sweet young lady, but I will sign thepaper. Go and wait for me at Saint James's; as soon as this affair isover I will come there. Lord So-and-so," he said, turning to one of hisequerries, "remind me that I have a paper to sign; it is for that younglady; you will not forget it now."
The equerry turned to Mabel and bowed low.
The colour which had left her cheeks rose again in them, for the lookcast on her was full of intense admiration. Mr. Kyffin whispered toMabel that she must not press the matter further, and bowing to theKing, who gave a kind parting word to Mabel, they retired from among theglittering throng of military officers.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
SILAS SLEECH DEPARTS FROM THE SCENE.--HOW MR. SLEECH ENJOYED HISPOSSESSION OF STANMORE.
Prisons even in those days were fearful dens, although considerablyimproved by the exertions of the noble Howard. In an ill-ventilatedroom with grated windows, on a straw pallet, sat a young man. Hischeeks had gained the prison paleness. A frown was on his brow, and anexpression on his countenance, which betokened numerous bad passions.Several other persons were in the room, which was closed by a strongdoor, barred and locked. Five or six other pallets, a rickety table,and several three-legged stools completed the furniture of theapartment. The young man's companions had apparently been amusingthemselves at his expense. The more angry he became, the more theylaughed and jeered.
"Laugh while you may," he growled out. "You will laugh on the wrongside of your mouth when dragged out to Tyburn. I can, even now, fancy Isee you dangling on the gibbet, and more thorough jailbirds have neverbeen taken out to be hung!"
These remarks, of course, produced retorts of equal bitterness.
"As to me, I have no fear of the sort," at length exclaimed the youngman. "To be accused of a crime and to be proved guilty are twodifferent things. No evidence can be brought against me--of that I amcertain."
While he was speaking, the door opened, and the jailer appeared, acouple of armed guards standing behind him. The prisoners gazed at himanxiously; although none of them were convicted, yet all of them in thatchamber were accused of capital offences, and each supposed that itmight be his turn to be led forth for trial. Most of them knew prettywell that it would be the last scene but one of their existence. Thelast would be on the scaffold at Tyburn.
"It is an old gentleman wants to see you," said the jailer, looking atthe young man on the pallet bed. "Now you others, behave civilly tohim, or I will be down upon you," he added, turning to the otherprisoners.
As he spoke, Mr. Sleech, the owner of Stanmore, entered the prison room.
"Oh! is it you?" said the young man, looking at Mr. Sleech. "Well, I amglad you have come at last. Here, there's room for two
of us; sit down.It is not a handsome reception-room, and my attendants are somewhatnoisy. We must take things as they are. Well, what news?"
Old Mr. Sleech was no stranger to similar scenes. He had often visitedjails professionally to consult with his clients, but the case in thisinstance was somewhat altered. The prisoner he now came to see was hisown son Silas. It might have occurred to him that he had not broughthim up in the way that an honest man should go. The other prisoners,hardened villains most of them, were gathering round with the intentionof mocking at the old man.
"He is my father!" said Silas, rising with a greater approach to dignitythan he had yet exhibited. "Some of you have fathers. If one of themwas to come and see you, you would not like the others to stand roundand see him insulted."
The address had its effect, and the ruffians, in spite