Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling Stone

by Mayne Reid

yourstepfather--and who you promised to larn manners if ever you should comeback, and find he had been misbehaving himself. Now it may be all myown fancy. That was so many years ago that I mightn't remember; but Icouldn't rest satisfied, without having you see him, for yourself."

  I told Stormy that he had acted right; and that I hoped, and should bepleased, to find that he was mistaken.

  Stormy's doubts had the effect of tranquillising me a little. I was nowvery hungry too; and at the first restaurant in our way, I went in, andordered some breakfast, which was eaten with an appetite I hoped neverto have again--a hope that was no doubt shared by the proprietor of therestaurant.

  We then pursued our journey to the place where the prisoner was underguard.

  The prison was merely a public-house--around which a crowd of peoplewere beginning to assemble.

  I wished to see the prisoner; but he was in an inside room, with the menwho guarded him; and these were a little particular as to who wasadmitted into his presence. I had to wait, therefore, until he shouldbe led out to execution.

  On finding that I could not be allowed to see the murderer--and as I wasanxious to learn something immediately--I determined on taking a look athis victim. It would be easy to do this: as the house where the deadwoman was lying was not far distant, from that which contained hermurderer.

  Accompanied by Stormy, I walked over to the house; and we were admittedinto the room where the corpse was lying. The face of the murderedwoman was concealed under a white cloth; and while standing over thebody, I was more strangely agitated than I had ever been before. ShouldI, on removing that slight shrouding of cotton, behold the inanimatefeatures of my mother?

  The suspense was agonisingly interesting. The covering was at lengthremoved; and I breathed again. The body was not that of my mother; butof a young woman apparently about nineteen or twenty years of age. Shehad been a beautiful woman, and was still so--even in death!

  Less tortured by my thoughts, I followed Stormy back to thepublic-house--around which the crowd had greatly increased: for it wasnow twelve o'clock, the hour appointed for the execution.

  My heart beat audibly, as the criminal was led forth, surrounded by hisguards and attendants.

  Stormy was right. The murderer was Matthew Leary!

  "What shall I do?" I inquired of Stormy, as we followed the criminal tothe place of execution.

  "You can do nothing," answered Stormy. "Let _them_ teach him manners.If you interfere, you'll be larnt some yourself."

  There was truth in this. From the temper of the men, who had judged andcondemned the murderer, it was evident I could do nothing to save him.Perhaps I did not contemplate trying.

  The prisoner was led from the public-house he had been kept in since hiscondemnation, to a live oak tree, growing on the top of a high hill,about half a mile from the town. Under this tree was a grave, that hadbeen freshly dug. The murderer, as he was conducted forward, must haveseen the grave, and know it to be his final resting-place. For allthat, he approached the tree without any apparent emotion!

  "He is either a very good man, or a very bad one," said one by my side,"he is going to die game!"

  A cart was drawn up under the live oak; and into it climbed four or fiverespectable-looking men--who appeared to be taking a prominent part inthe proceedings.

  One of them requested silence--a request which was immediately compliedwith--and the man who made it, then addressed the assembly, in, as nearas I can remember, the following words:--

  "Gentlemen! Before commencing to execute the painful duty, we have metto perform, I deem it necessary to give you a brief description of thecircumstances, under which we are called upon to act. The prisonerbefore you--_John Mathews_,--has been tried by a jury of twelve men; andfound guilty of the murder of his wife--or a woman living with him assuch. He has been defended by able counsel; and the trial has beenconducted with all the decorum and ceremony required by an occasion sosolemn and important. It has appeared in evidence against the prisoner,that he was an habitual drunkard; and that his principal means forindulging, in his unfortunate habits of dissipation, were derived fromhis wife--who supported herself, the prisoner, and their child, byworking as a washer-woman. There has been full evidence brought beforethe jury, that, on the day the murder was committed, the prisoner camehome drunk, and asked the woman for money. She told him that she hadbut three dollars in the house; and that she wanted that to procurenecessaries for her child--in fine, she refused to let him have it. Theprisoner demanded the three dollars, and the woman still refused to givethem up. After he had made a vain attempt to extort the money bythreats, he went across the room, and procured a pistol, with which heunsuccessfully made an attempt to shoot her. Finding that the weaponwas unloaded, he turned it in his hand, and struck the woman two heavyblows on the head with its butt. These blows were the cause of herdeath--which occurred two hours afterwards. The man who committed thiscrime is now before you. As I do not wish to prejudice the mind of anyone, I have simply stated what was proved on the trial; and the questionI now put is--what shall we do with him?"

  The speaker finished by putting on his hat, which was as much as to say,that his part in the solemn ceremony was performed.

  The firm, earnest voice, in which the address had been delivered,convinced me that the speaker, who had thus distinguished himself, wasactuated neither by prejudice nor passion.

  From the tenor of the speech he had delivered, I could tell that thecriminal's fate, to a certain extent, still depended on a vote of thecrowd; and in their decision I felt more interested, than even Mr Learyhimself appeared to be!

  Another of the men in the cart now took off his hat; and the murmuringnoise once more subsided.

  "Fellow citizens!" said this second speaker, "I am not here either toapologise for, or sanction the crime this man has committed. I know, aswell as any man present, the necessity that exists in a land like this,or, rather, in the state of society in which we live, for the severepunishment of crime. All I ask of you is, to let this man be punishedby the laws of the country. A system of government--of which you allapprove--has lately been established among us; and arrangements havebeen made for the trial and punishment of criminals. Do not take thelaw into your own hands. People living in the civilised communities ofEurope and our own country are crying `Shame! shame!' at manytransactions, similar to this, which have occurred in California; andthe same words will be uttered against the proceedings that are takingplace here to-day. I am a magistrate; and have with me a constable. Iwill pledge my life that if you will allow us to remove the prisoner, heshall be brought before a jury and tried by the laws of our country. Itrust that no good citizen will make any objection to our taking thatcourse with him."

  The magistrate then put on his hat--as a signal that _he_ had nothingmore to say.

  The murmur of the crowd rose higher; and there were heard many cries ofdissent from what had been last said.

  "He's had a fair trial--hang him!" exclaimed one.

  "Hang him now, or he'll escape!" vociferated another.

  There were also a few voices raised on the other side. "Give him up!Let the magistrate have him!" shouted these last.

  A man now stood up in the cart; and called for a show of hands.

  All in favour of delivering the prisoner into the custody of the lawofficers were requested to hold up their right hands.

  About twenty arms were extended into the air!

  A number of these belonged to men who had the appearance of being whatin California were called "Sydney Ducks"--old convicts from New SouthWales; but most of the hands raised were those of well-known gamblers--all of whom have an instinctive horror of Justice Lynch.

  Those who were in favour of the prisoner being hung, _then and there_,were next invited to hold up their right hands.

  In an instant about three hundred arms were held aloft. All of themthat I saw were terminated with strong, sinewy fists, stained only withtoil, and belonging to miners-
-the most respectable portion of thepopulation.

  This silent, but emphatic, declaration was considered final. After ithad been delivered, there commenced a scene of wild excitement.

  I rushed through the crowd, towards the tree under which the criminalstood. As I came up to him, I saw that a rope had been, already noosedaround his neck.

  A man was climbing into the live oak--for the purpose of passing therope over one of its branches.

  "Stop!" I cried, "stop for one minute! Let me ask this man a question,before he dies."

  Mr Leary turned towards me with a stare of surprise; and for the firsttime, since being brought upon the ground, did he appear to take anyinterest in what was passing!

  "I am the Rolling Stone," I shouted to him, "Tell me, where is mymother?"

  The murderer smiled, and such a smile! It was the same fiendishexpression he had thrown at me, when I last saw him in the boat inDublin