“I ask my father’s life, which he has most justly forfeited to your majesty,” she cried. “I have betrayed him, and if he is put to death, I shall die, too. I would give my life to purchase his pardon.”
“What has your father done?” demanded Charles, gravely. “Before I can hold out any hope of pardon, I must learn the crime he has committed.”
“My liege, I tremble to inform you that he has conceived the design of carrying off the Crown jewels from the Tower; but I trust his scheme will prove abortive.”
“Talbot Harland is already gone to the Tower, sire, and will take such steps as may be needful,” interposed Dorinda.
“Oddsfish!” exclaimed the king. “This is, indeed, a formidable design, and the contriver of it can scarce pass unpunished.”
“The scheme would infallibly have succeeded, sire, had I not felt bound to reveal it,” said Sabine.
“But why defer the disclosure to the latest moment, so as to give the project a chance of success?” demanded the king.
“I have been kept a close prisoner till within these two hours, my liege, and prevented from holding communication with anyone. On making my escape, I flew to Miss Neville, and gave her information of the plot.”
“Arise!” exclaimed Charles.
“I will not rise, sire, till you promise me my father’s life. I care not what punishment you inflict on me, but spare him.”
“You shall be rewarded rather than punished, fair damsel,” said the king, raising her gently.
“Reward me by the boon I have asked, sire,” she rejoined. “I will accept no other recompense.”
Charles made no reply, but stepping towards a table, struck a small silver bell.
At the summons, Chiffinch instantly appeared.
“Bid Lord Feversham repair, with the utmost despatch, to the Tower,” he said.
“Any further orders, sire?”
“None. His lordship will learn what he has to do when he arrives there. Stay! Is the Count de Bellegarde in the palace?”
“He is, sire — playing ombre in the Stone Gallery.”
“Bid him come to me at once.”
Charles watched the effect of this injunction upon Sabine, and perceived that she looked troubled.
“I shall learn something by confronting them together,” he thought.
“You have not told me your father’s real name?” he added to Sabine. “Disguise nothing, if you would serve him.”
“My father is Colonel Blood, of Sarney, in the county of Meath,” she replied.
“An arch-rebel, and contriver of a plot to seize on Dublin Castle — I remember,” observed the king. “ When I first saw you, you were called Violet Oldacre.”
“My real name is Sabine Blood, sire,” she rejoined.
“I do not wish to put many interrogations to you now. But has your father many accomplices?”
“Three, my liege. They are all with him.”
“All three?”
“All three, sire.”
At this juncture Bellegarde was ushered in.
Whatever might be his secret emotions on beholding Sabine, the count betrayed no discomposure.
“Your majesty has sent for me,” he said, bowing profoundly.
“I have some questions to ask you. Are you acquainted with Colonel Blood?”
“I have seen him occasionally at the gaming-houses, sire; but I have no particular acquaintance with him.”
“You know his daughter Sabine?”
“Is this the young lady, sire? I fancy I have seen her before, but I fail to recall the precise circumstances under which the meeting occurred.”
“Will you allow your lover to disown you thus?” observed the king.
“The Count de Bellegarde is not my lover, sire,” cried Sabine, with well-feigned indignation. “I know nothing of him.”
“Pray mark that, my liege!” cried the count. “The fair damsel disclaims all knowledge of me. May I venture to ask the object of these questions?”
“You will learn anon. I have not yet finished. Have you seen Colonel Blood of late?”
“Not for several months, sire.”
“Think again. He was at Newmarket.”
“He might be, and yet escape my notice.”
“Will it surprise you to learn that he has formed a daring plan to carry off the Crown jewels?”
“It surprises me beyond measure,” cried the count, affecting extreme astonishment. “But I rejoice that your majesty has discovered and defeated his design.”
“I trust it has been defeated,” said the king. “But I am still in uncertainty.”
“Ere this, Talbot Harland must have reached the Tower,” said Dorinda, “And your majesty may be sure he will send you instant intelligence.”
“But some little time must needs elapse — Ha!”
The exclamation was caused by the sound of a cannon, that shook the room.
““one of the heavy Tower guns!” cried the king. “Why is it fired?”
“Can your majesty ask?” exclaimed Dorinda, unable to repress her exultation. ““a signal from Talbot Harland — a signal of success!”
“Heaven preserve my father in this dire extremity! — and pardon me!” murmured Sabine.
Bellegarde became very pale, but gave no other evidence of emotion. Sabine did not dare to look at him.
The king had been listening for another discharge, but none was heard.
“I trust that cannon announced the capture of the daring villain and his associates,” he exclaimed. “At any rate, the alarm has been given.”
Sabine could not repress a slight cry, and seemed ready to sink.
Touched by her condition, the king said to Dorinda, “Give this unhappy damsel an asylum till I receive further intelligence. I shall then know what to do.”
“I will take every care of her, my liege,” replied Dorinda, quitting the cabinet with Sabine.
“ee, count,” said the king, drily, as soon as they were alone. “I believe all you have told me respecting Colonel Blood; but if you have any apprehension of being implicated in his scheme, you had better decamp.”
“Decamp, sire! I should be the last man to decamp. Your majesty wrongs me by these suspicions. If Colonel Blood has been captured — as I trust will prove to be the case — interrogate him; and if he charges me with aiding him in his audacious project, inflict upon me the severest punishment you can devise. With your majesty’s permission, I shall not quit Whitehall.”
Bowing profoundly, he withdrew.
CHAPTER XV
HOW BLOOD’S SCHEME PROSPERED
We must now return to Parson Price and his young friends, Cadwallader Griffith and Jenkin Pugh.
On quitting their retreat at Whitefriars, they took boat to the Tower. All three were armed with loaded pistols, and carried with them the bags designed to hold their booty, as well as the various implements which the parson thought would be required.
Mandeville did not accompany the others, his business being to wait with the horses at the foot of Tower Hill, near St. Catherine’s Gate.
While passing the guard-chamber, Parson Price stopped to exchange a few friendly words with Kenelm, the warder; and that individual afterwards remarked, that he looked as cheerful and unconcerned as usual, and no one would have supposed that he had a criminal design on hand.
On arriving at the Jewel Tower, the party were very warmly welcomed by the old custodian and his wife and daughter.
Regrets were, of course, expressed at Winefred’s absence, but Edith was secretly not sorry that she had stayed away. The warning letter made her distrust the young damsel.
Bent upon executing his design without delay, Parson Price took old Edwards aside, and said to him, in a low, confidential tone, “Ever since we left yesterday, Cadwallader has done nothing but talk about your daughter. You are a fortunate man, cousin, in getting such a son-in-law. I don’t think much of Merlin’s Cave, and its hidden treasures; but I think a great deal of broad acre
s and substantial farmhouses, and the rents they produce. Cadwallader has three hundred a year, if he has a penny!”
“And he likes the girl, you say, cousin?”
“Likes her? He adores her! Observe him now!”
“He does regard her very tenderly, I must own, cousin.”
“Contrive to leave them together, and I’ll warrant you they’ll soon come to an understanding.”
“Truly, I shall be glad to have it settled. I have no objections to the young man, and my daughter seems to have none. You are certain he has three hundred a year, cousin?”
“I would I were as certain of my own tithes as he is of his rents. Better land there cannot be than Cadwallader’s.”
“I’ll do it at once,” cried old Edwards. “We’ll go to the jewel room, and I’ll send my wife down stairs.”
With this, he winked at Mrs. Edwards, who at once took the hint and left the room, declaring she was coming back immediately, though she had no such intention.
Parson Price at the same time winked at Jenkin Pugh, and they both followed the old custodian to the jewel chamber.
The loving pair were thus left alone together, and Cadwallader seemed disposed to improve the opportunity.
The moment had now arrived for action. No sooner had they entered the jewel chamber, than Flodoard — for we must now give him his proper designation — contrived to place himself between Edwards and the door, so as to cut off the old custodian’s retreat.
This precaution was not unnecessary, for Edwards became alarmed at a sudden change in the parson’s demeanor, as well as by the altered expression of his countenance.
“Anything the matter with you, cousin?” he asked.
““time you knew our real business here,” rejoined Blood, in a stern voice, and with a menacing look. “Not to waste time, you will be pleased to understand that we mean to help ourselves to these jewels.”
“Ah! have I been deceived by you all this time?” cried Edwards, transported with rage and terror. “You are robbers in disguise! Fool that I was to trust you!”
“Ay, our stratagem has succeeded perfectly!” rejoined Blood, in a mocking tone; “ and now, my worthy friend, listen to what I have to say. For your own sake, I advise you to take the matter quietly and philosophically. You shall be no loser by the transaction. I swear to you, by all that is sacred, that we will give you a share in the plunder — a share large enough to make you rich. I do not ask you to help us, but keep quiet.”
“Avaunt, tempting fiend!” cried Edwards, furiously.
“Do you think me capable of betraying my trust?”
“I think you a sensible man, and alive to your interests,” observed Blood, with a sneer.
“Oh, that my pistols were within reach!” cried Edwards; “I would soon show you — Help! — treason! — murder!”
A cloak thrown over his head by Flodoard stifled his cries, and while he was in this state the two ruffians bore him to the ground, gagged him, and bound him hand and foot with cords. They then left him in this helpless condition, to watch their proceedings.
Violent hands were first laid by Blood on the imperial crown.
With what eagerness he clutched it! The diamonds seemed to glitter more brightly than ever as he gazed at them.
His intention had been to beat the crown flat with the mallet, in order that he might carry it off with greater ease; but he was now seized with compunction, and stayed his impious hand. The magnificent diadem was, therefore, fortunately preserved from destruction.
While he was thus deliberating, the poor old custodian made desperate but unavailing efforts to free himself, and groaned so dismally, that Blood, with a deep imprecation, threatened to brain him if he did not remain quiet.
Meantime, Flodoard had pounced upon the king’s sceptre, and having broken off the cross at the top, which was covered with precious stones, with a large table diamond in the centre, had begun to file the thick, golden rod, which was nearly three feet in length, in order to break it in twain.
Hitherto, nothing had occurred to disturb the villains in their task. Blood had secured the orb, and was unscrewing the head of the ampulla, when some alarming sounds reached him. He cautiously opened the door, and then became assured that a fierce struggle was going on below, between Montalt and some other person.
“Thousand devils!” he exclaimed, as he came back. “We are discovered! We must fly!”
On hearing this, Edwards made another desperate effort to raise himself and utter a cry. The attempt nearly cost the old man his life. Blood dealt him a blow on the head with the mallet that stretched him senseless on the floor.
What a pang it cost the desperado to lose the treasures that he had so nearly made his own! He absolutely roared with rage and vexation as he gazed his last at them, and, for a moment, thought of sweeping off all he could carry.
But prudence checked his rapacity; and contenting himself, perforce, with the orb and crown — the latter of which he concealed under his gown — he quitted the jewel chamber.
He was followed by Flodoard, who had broken off the pommel of the sceptre, and secured the rubies and emeralds with which it was adorned, but was obliged to leave the golden rod behind.
CHAPTER XVI
A STRUGGLE FOR THE CROWN
Let us now see what had befallen Montalt. Considering the circumstances, he had played his part remarkably well. Indeed, he was really smitten by the charms of the goldenhaired damsel. Throwing himself at her feet, he declared his passion, and soon found that he need not despair.
Carried away by the ardor of his feelings, he confessed to the soft-hearted maiden that he had practised a deception upon her; and, having got over this difficulty far better than he expected, he told her all, essaying to inflame her imagination by dilating upon the splendid manner in which they would live abroad; but she was so bewildered, that she scarcely listened to him.
While he was in the midst of these glowing descriptions, the door burst open, and Talbot Harland came in. His manner betokened great excitement.
“Where is your father?” he demanded of Edith.
“In the jewel chamber, with my cousin Price and a friend,” she replied.
“They are the robbers who are with him,” cried Talbot—” come to steal the Crown jewels, and this is one of them.”
“Hold your peace, sir,” cried Montalt, drawing a pistol and levelling it at Talbot’s head, “or you are a dead man.”
But he hesitated to fire, from the fear of giving the alarm; and, seeing this, Talbot sprang upon him, and a desperate struggle took place between them. Edith was so frightened at the sight of the pistol, that she fell back in a half-fainting state.
Meanwhile, the struggle continued, and both being vigorous and extremely active young men, the issue seemed doubtful. The pistol had dropped from Montalt’s grasp, and lay upon the ground.
The combatants were thus engaged, when Blood and Flodoard passed the door, which was left ajar. Blood, being encumbered by the crown, did not attempt to offer any assistance, but Fiodoard dashed in at once, and soon liberated his comrade.
By their combined efforts Talbot was thrown to the ground, and with such force that he was stunned for the moment, giving them time to effect their escape.
Picking up the pistol, they went out, locked the door, but did not take away the key, and joined Blood, who was anxiously waiting for them at the entrance. All three then went forth so quietly that they did not attract the attention of the sentry, who was pacing to and fro in front of the tower. As soon, however, as they got to a little distance, they quickened their pace.
The robbers had not been gone more than a minute, when Mrs. Edwards, who had heard some noises for which she could not account, came to the room where she had left her daughter and her suitor, and finding the door locked, instantly unfastened it, and released Talbot, who by this time had recovered from the fall.
Without entering into any explanation to the astounded dame, who could not imagine how he
came there, the young man started in pursuit of the robbers.
As he issued forth, he descried them near the northwest angle of the White Tower, and dashed after them as quickly as he could, shouting lustily as he ran.
His shouts were heard by some warders and musketeers who happened to be on the parade at the time, and these persons seeing the robbers hurry down the descent to the Bloody Tower, instantly gave chase.
The fugitives had passed through the archway, and were speeding along the outer ward to the By-ward Tower, when their pursuers burst from the archway of the Bloody Tower, and gave the alarm.
A sentry was on the bridge, near the Middle Tower, but there was only one warder at the time at the first gate.
This was Kenelm. Hearing the alarm, he instantly put himself in a position to stop the fugitives, though he could scarcely believe his eyes when he perceived that the foremost of them was Parson Price. Blood had got a pistol in his right hand, but he kept it concealed under his cassock. Beneath his other arm he tightly grasped the crown.
“What’s the matter, sir?” cried Kenelm, barring the way with his halbert, as the fugitives came up.
“Heaven knows! I don’t!” rejoined Blood. “But let us pass.”
“No, sir; I can’t do that,” said the warder. “You must stop and give an account of yourselves. I fear I have been greatly mistaken in you, sir.”
“No mistake in that!” cried Blood, discharging the pistol at his head.
The bullet brushed the warder’s cheek, but did him no harm. Kenelm, however, fell back, and the conspirators rushed on. The sentry on the bridge, startled by the report of the pistol, ordered them to stand; but as they took no heed, he fired at them, and wounding Flodoard in the leg, prevented his further flight. Blood dashed past; but Montalt was seized and detained.
Among the first who came up was Talbot Harland, and finding that Blood had escaped, he hurried after him.
The fugitive flung his useless pistol into the Tower moat, but held another in readiness. He had passed the Lion’s Tower without hindrance; but being opposed by another sentry at the Bulwark Gate, he discharged his second pistol at him, and the man, though not hit, dropped.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 607