CHAPTER XXXV. AN UNFORSEEN EVIL
"I perceive, sir," said the stranger, seating himself at my table, "theyare desirous to restore an antiquated custom in regard to you. I thoughtthe day of indemnities was past and gone forever."
"I am ignorant to what you allude."
"The authorities would make you out an emissary of France, sir,--as ifFrance had not enough on her hands already, without embroiling herselfin a quarrel from which no benefit could accrue; not to speak of thelittle likelihood that any one on such an errand would take up hisabode, as you have, in the most public hotel of Dublin."
"I have no apprehensions as to any charges they may bring against me.I am conscious of no crime, saving having left my country a boy, andreturning to it a man."
"You were in the service of France, then?"
"Yes; since 1801 I have been a soldier."
"So long? You must have been but a mere boy when you quitted Ireland.How have they connected you with the troubles of that period?"
I hesitated for a second or two, uncertain what answer, if any, Ishould return to this abrupt question. A glance at the manly and frankexpression of the stranger's face soon satisfied me that no unworthycuriosity had prompted the inquiry; and I told him in a few words,how, as a child, the opinions of the patriotic party had won me over toembark in a cause I could neither fathom nor understand. I traced outrapidly the few leading events of my early career down to the lastevening I spent in Ireland. When I came to this part of my story, thestranger became unusually attentive, and more than once questionedme respecting the origin of my quarrel with Crofts, and the timelyappearance of Darby; of whose name and character, however, I gave him noinformation, merely speaking of him as an old and attached follower ofmy family.
"Since that period, then, you have not been in Ireland?" said he, as Iconcluded.
"Never: nor had I any intention of returning until lately, whencircumstances induced me to leave the Emperor's service; and from veryuncertainty I came back here, without well knowing why."
"Of course, then, you have never heard the catastrophe of your adventurewith Crofts. It was a lucky hit for him."
"How so? I don't understand you."
"Simply this: Crofts was discovered in the morning, severely wounded,where you left him; his account being, that he had been waylaid by aparty of rebels, who had obtained the countersign of the night, andpassed the sentry in various disguises. You yourself--for so, at least,I surmise it must have been--were designated the prime mover of thescheme, and a Government reward was offered for your apprehension.Crofts was knighted, and appointed to the staff,--the reward ofhis loyalty and courage; of the exact details of which my memory isunfortunately little tenacious."
"And the truth of the occurrence was never known?"
"What I have told you is the only version current. I have reason toremember so much of it, for I was then, and am still, one of the legaladvisers of the Crown, and was consulted on the case; of which, Iconfess, I always had my misgivings. There was a rage, however, forrewarding loyalty, as it was termed at the period, and the story wentthe round of the papers. Now, I fancy Crofts would just as soon not seeyou back again; he has made all he can of the adventure, and would aslief have it quietly forgotten."
"But can I suffer it to rest here? Is such an imputation to lie on mycharacter as he would cast on me?"
"Take no steps in the matter on that score: vindication is time enoughwhen the attack is made directly; besides, where should you find yourwitness? where is the third party who could prove your innocence, andthat all you did was in self-defence? Without his testimony, yourstory would go for nothing. No, no; be well satisfied if the charge issuffered to sleep, which is not unlikely. Crofts would scarcely like toconfess that his antagonist was little more than a child; his prowesswould gain nothing by the avowal. Besides, the world goes well with himlatterly; it is but a month ago, I think, he succeeded unexpectedly to alarge landed property."
The stranger, whose name was M'Dougall, continued to talk for some timelonger; most kindly volunteered to advise me in the difficult positionI found myself; and having given me his address in town, wished me agoodnight and departed.
It was to no purpose I laid my head on my pillow. Tired and fatiguedas I was, I could not sleep; the prospect of fresh troubles awaitingme made me restless and feverish, and I longed for day to break, thatI might manfully confront whatever danger was before me, and oppose astout heart to the arrows of adverse fortune. My accidental meeting withthe stranger also reassured my courage; and I felt gratified to thinkthat such _rencontres_ in life are the sunny spots which illumine ourcareer in the world, the harbingers of bright days to come.
This feeling was still more strongly impressed on me as I entered thesmall room on the ground-floor at the Castle, where was the secretary'soffice, and beheld M'Dougall seated in an armchair, reading thenewspaper of the day. I could not help connecting his presence therewith some kindly intention towards me, and already regarded him as myfriend. Major Barton stood at the secretary's side, and whispered fromtime to time in his ear.
"I have before me certain information, sir," said the secretary,addressing me, "that you were connected with parties who took an activepart in the late rebellion in this country, and by them sent over toFrance to negotiate co-operation and assistance from that quarter,"(Barton here whispered something, and the secretary resumed), "and incontinuance of this scheme are at present here."
"I have only to observe, sir, that I left Ireland a mere boy, when,whatever my opinions might have been, they were, I suspect, of smallmoment to his Majesty's Government; that I have served some years inthe French army, during which period I neither corresponded with any onehere, nor had intercourse with any from Ireland; and lastly, that I havecome back unaccredited by any party, not having, as I believe, a singleacquaintance in the island."
"Do you still hold a commission in the French service?"
"No, sir; I resigned my grade as captain some time since."
"What were your reasons for that step?"
"They were of a purely personal nature, having no concern with politicsof any sort; I should, therefore, ask of you not to demand them. I canonly say, they reflect neither on my honor nor my loyalty."
"His loyalty! Would you ask him, sir, how he applies the term, and towhat sovereign and what government the obedience is rendered?" saidBarton, with a half smile of malicious meaning.
"Very true, Barton; the question is most pertinent."
"When I said loyalty, sir," said I, in answer, "I confess I did notexpress myself as clearly as I intended. I meant, however, that as anIrishman, and a subject of his Majesty George the Third, as I now am, noact of mine in the French service ever compromised me."
"Why, surely you fought against the allies of your own country?".
"True, sir. I speak only with reference to the direct interests ofEngland. I was the soldier of the Emperor, but never a spy under hisGovernment."
"Your name is amongst those who never claimed the indemnity? How isthis?"
"I never heard of it; I never knew such an act was necessary. I am notguilty of any crime, nor do I see any reason to seek a favor."
"Well, well; the gracious intentions of the Crown lead us to lookleniently on the past. A moderate bail for your appearance when calledon, and your own recognizances for the same object, will suffice."
"I am quite willing to do the latter; but as to bail, I repeat it, Ihave not one I could ask for such a service."
"No relative? no friend?"
"Come, come, young gentleman," said M'Dougall, speaking for the firsttime; "recollect yourself. Try if you can't remember some one who wouldassist you at this conjuncture."
Basset was the only name I could think of; and however absurd the ideaof a service from such a quarter, I deemed that, as my brother's agent,he would scarce refuse me. I thought that Barton gave a very peculiargrin as I mentioned the name; but my own securities being entered into,and a few formal questions answe
red, I was told I was at liberty to seekout the bail required.
Once more in the streets, I turned my steps towards Basset's house,where I hoped, at all events, to learn some tidings of my brother. Iwas not long in arriving at the street, and speedily recognized the oldhouse, whose cobwebbed windows and unwashed look reminded me of formertimes. The very sound of the heavy iron knocker awoke its train ofrecollections; and when the door was opened, and I saw the narrowhall, with its cracked lamp and damp, discolored walls, the wholeheart-sinking with which they once inspired me came back again, and Ithought of Tony Basset when his very name was a thing of terror to me.
Mr. Basset, I was told, was at court, and I was shown into the office toawait his return. The gloomy little den,--I knew it well, with its dirtyshelves of dirtier papers, its old tin boxes, and its rickety desk,at which two meanly-dressed starveling youths were busy writing. Theyturned a rapid glance towards me as I entered; and as they resumed theiroccupation, I could hear a muttered remark upon my dress and appearance,the purport of which I did not catch.
I sat for some time patiently, expecting Basset's arrival, but asthe time stole by, I grew wearied with waiting, and determined onascertaining, if I might, from the clerks, some intelligence concerningmy brother.
"Have you any business with Mr. Burke?" said the youth I addressed,while his features assumed an expression of vulgar jocularity.
"Yes," was my brief reply.
"Wouldn't a letter do as well as a personal interview?" said the other,with an air of affected courtesy.
"Perhaps so," I replied, too deeply engaged in my own thoughts to mindtheir flippant impertinence.
"Then mind you direct your letter 'Churchyard, Loughrea;' or, if youwant to be particular, say 'Family vault.'"
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"Is he dead? Is George dead?"
"That's hard to say," interposed the other; "but they've buried him,that's certain."
Like a stunning blow, the shock of this news left me unable to speak orhear. A maze of confused thoughts crossed and jostled each other in mybrain, and I could neither collect myself nor listen to what was saidaround me. My first clear memory was of a thousand little childishtraits of love which had passed between us. Tokens of affection longforgotten now rushed freshly to my mind; and he whom a moment before Ihad condemned as wanting in all brotherly feeling, I now sorrowed forwith true grief. The low and vulgar insolence of the speakers made noimpression on me; and when, in answer to my questions, they narratedthe manner of his death,--a fever contracted after some debauch atOxford,--I only heard the tidings, but did not notice the unfeeling toneit was conveyed in.
My brother dead! the only one of kith or kindred belonging to me. Howslight the tie seemed but a few moments back! what would I not give forit now? Then, for the first time, did I know how the heart can heap upits stores of consolation in secrecy, and how unconsciously the mind candwell on hopes it has never confessed even to itself. How I fancied tomyself our meeting, and thought over the long pent-up affection years ofabsence had accumulated, now flowing in a gushing stream from heart toheart I The grave is indeed hallowed when the grass of the churchyardcan cover all memory save that of love. We dwell on every good giftof the lost one, as though no unworthy thought could cross that littlemound of earth, the barrier between two worlds. Sad and sorrow-struck,I covered my face with my hands, and did not notice that Mr. Basset hadentered, and taken his place at the desk.
His voice, every harsh tone of which I well remembered, first made meaware of his presence. I lifted my eyes, and there he stood, littlechanged indeed since I had seen him last. The hard lines about the mouthhad grown deeper, the brow more furrowed, and the hair more mixed withgray, but in other respects he was the same. As I gazed at him I couldnot help fancying that time makes less impression on men of coarse,unfeeling mould, than on natures of a finer temper. The world's changesleave no trace on the stern surface of the one, while they are wearingdeep tracks of sorrow in the other.
"Insert the advertisement again, Simms," said he, addressing one of theclerks, "and let it appear in some paper of the seaport towns. Among theFlemish or French smugglers who frequent them, there might be some oneto give the information. They must be able to show that though ThomasBurke--"
I started at the sound of my name. The motion surprised him; he lookedround and perceived me. Quick and piercing as his glance was, I couldnot trace any sign of recognition; although, as he scanned my features,and suffered his eyes to wander over my dress, I perceived that his wasno mere chance or cursory observation.
"Well, sir," said he, at length, "is your business here with me?"
"Yes; but I would speak with you in private."
"Come in here, then. Meanwhile, Sam, make out that deed; for we may goon without the proof of demise."
Few and vague as the words were, their real meaning flashed on me, and Iperceived that Mr. Basset was engaged in the search of some evidence ofmy death, doubtless to enable the heir-at-law to succeed to the estatesof my brother. The moment the idea struck me, I felt assured of itscertainty, and at once determined on the plan I should adopt.
"You have inserted an advertisement regarding a Mr. Burke," said I, assoon as the door was closed, and we were alone together. "What are theparticular circumstances of which you desire proof?"
"The place, date, and manner of his death," replied he, slowly; "forthough informed that such occurred abroad, an authentic evidence of thefact will save some trouble. Circumstances to identify the individualwith the person we mean, of course, must be offered; showing whence hecame, his probable age, and so on. For this intelligence I am preparedto pay liberally; at least a hundred pounds may be thought so."
"It is a question of succession to some property, I have heard."
"Yes; but the information is not of such moment as you may suppose,"replied he, quickly, and with the wariness of his calling anticipatingthe value I might be disposed to place on my intelligence. "We aresatisfied with the fact of the death; and even were it otherwise, theindividual most concerned is little likely to disprove the belief, hisown reasons will probably keep him from visiting Ireland."
"Indeed!" I exclaimed, the word escaping my lips ere I could check itsutterance.
"Even so," resumed he. "But this, of course, has no interest for you.Your accent bespeaks you a foreigner. Have you any information to offeron this matter?"
"Yes; if we speak of the same individual, who may have left this countryabout 1800 as a boy of some fourteen years of age, and entered the'Ecole Polytechnique' of Paris."
"Like enough. Continue, if you please; what became of him afterwards?"
"He joined the French service, attained the rank of captain, and thenleft the army; came back to Ireland, and now, sir, stands before you."
Mr. Basset never changed a muscle of his face as I made thisdeclaration. So unmoved, so stolid was his look, that for a moment ortwo I believed him incredulous of my story. But this impression soongave way, as with his eyes bent on me he said,--
"I knew you, sir, I knew you the moment I passed you in the officewithout; but it might have fared ill with you to have let my recognitionappear."
"As how? I do not understand you."
"My clerks there might have given information for the sake of thereward; and once in Newgate, there was an end to all negotiation."
"You must speak more intelligibly, sir, if you wish me to comprehendyou. I am unaware of any circumstance which should threaten me with sucha fate."
"Have you forgotten Captain Crofts,--Montague Crofts?" said Basset, in alow whisper, while a smile of insulting malice crossed his features.
"No; I remember him well. What of him?"
"What of him! He charges you with a capital felony,--a crime for whichthe laws have little pity here, whatever your French habits may havetaught you to regard it. Yes; the attempt to assassinate an officer inhis Majesty's service, when foiled by him in an effort to seduce thesoldiery, is an offence which might have a place in your memory."
"You were not alone; remember that fact."
"True; and most thankful am I for it. There is one, at least, can provemy innocence, if I can but discover him."
"You will find that a matter of some difficulty. Your worthy friend andearly preceptor was transported five years since."
"Poor fellow! I could better bear to hear that he was dead."
"There are many of your opinion on that head," said Basset, with asavage grin. "But the fellow was too cunning for all the lawyers, andhis conviction at last was only effected by a stratagem."
"A stratagem!" exclaimed I, in amazement.
"It was neither more nor less. Darby was arraigned four several times,but always acquitted. Now it was defective evidence; now a lenient jury;now an informal indictment: but so was it, he escaped the meshes of thelaw, though every one knew him guilty of a hundred offences. At lastMajor Barton resolved on another expedient. Darby was arrested in Ennis;thrown into jail; kept four weeks in a dark cell, on prison fare; and atthe end, one morning the hangman appeared to say his hour was come, andthat the warrant for his execution had arrived. It was to take place,without judge or jury, within the four walls of the jail. The schemesucceeded; his courage fell, and he offered, if his life was spared, toplead guilty to any transportable felony for which the grand Jury wouldsend up true bills. He did so, and was then undergoing the sentence."
"Great heavens! and can such iniquity be tolerated in a land where mencall themselves Christians?" exclaimed I, as I heard this to the end.
"Iniquity!" repeated he, in mockery; "to rid the country of a ruffian,stained with every crime,--a fellow mixed up in every outrage in theland? Is this your notion of iniquity? Not so do I reckon it. And if Ihave told you of it now, it is that you may learn that when loyaland well-affected men are trusted with the execution of the laws, theprinciple of justice is of more moment than the nice distinction oflegal subtleties. You may learn a lesson from it worth acquiring."
"I! how can it affect me or my fortunes?"
"More nearly than you think. I have told you of the accusation whichhangs over your head; weigh it well, and deliberate what are yourchances of escape. We must not waste time in discussing your innocence.The jury who will try the cause will be more difficult of belief thanyou suspect; neither the opinions you are charged with, your subsequentescape, nor your career in France, will contribute to your exculpation,even had you evidence to adduce in your favor. But you have not; youronly witness is equally removed as by death itself. On what do youdepend, then? Conscious innocence! Nine out of every ten who mount thescaffold proclaim the same; but I never heard that the voice that criedit stifled the word 'guilty.' No, sir; I tell you solemnly, you will becondemned!"
The tone of his voice as he spoke the last few words made my very bloodrun cold. The death of a soldier on the field of battle had no terrorsfor me; but the execrated fate of a felon I could not confront. Thepallor of my cheek, the trembling of my limbs, must have betrayed myemotion; for even Basset seemed to pity me, and pressed me down into achair.
"There is one way, however, to avoid all the danger," said he, aftera pause; "an easy and a certain way both. You have heard of theadvertisements for information respecting your death, which it wassurmised had occurred abroad. Now you are unknown here,--without asingle acquaintance to recognize or remember you; why should not you,under another name, come forward with these proofs? By so doing, yousecure your own escape and can claim the reward."
"What! perjure myself that I may forfeit my inheritance!"
"As to the inheritance," said he, sneeringly, "your tenure does notpromise a very long enjoyment of it."
"Were it but a day,--an hour!" exclaimed I, passionately; "I will makeno compromise with my honor. On their own heads be it who sentence aninnocent man to death; better such, even on a scaffold, than a life ofignominy and vain regret."
"The dark hours of a jail change men's sentiments wonderfully," saidhe, slowly. "I have known some who faced death in its wildest and mostappalling shape, shrink from it like cowards when it came in the guiseof a common executioner. Come, sir, be advised by me; reflect at leaston what I have said, and if there be any path in life where a moderatesum may assist you--"
"Peace, sir! I beg of you to be silent. It may be that your counsel isprompted by kindly feeling towards me; but if you would have me thinkso, say no more of this,--my mind is made up."
"Wait until to-morrow, in any case; perhaps some other plan may suggestitself. What say you to America? Have you any objection to go there?"
"Had you asked me the question an hour since, I had replied, 'Nonewhatever.' Now it is different; my departure would be like the flight ofa guilty man. I cannot do it."
"Better the flight than the fate of one," muttered Basset between histeeth, while at the same instant the sound of voices talking loudlytogether was heard in the hall without.
"Think again, before it is too late. Remember what I have told you. Youropinions, your career, your associates, are not such as to recommend youto the favorable consideration of a jury. Is your case strong enough tooppose all these? Sir Montague will make liberal terms; he has no desireto expose the calamities of a family."
"Sir Montague!--of whom do you speak?"
"Sir Montague Crofts," said Basset, reddening, for he had unwittinglysuffered the name to escape his lips. "Are you ignorant that he isyour relative? a distant one, it is true, but your nearest of kinnotwithstanding."
"And the heir to the estate?" said I, suddenly, as anew light flashed onmy mind; "the heir, in the event of my life lapsing?"
Basset nodded an assent.
"You played a deep game, sir," said I, drawing a long breath; "but younever were near winning it."
"Nor you either," said he, throwing wide the door between the two rooms;"I hear a voice without there, that settles the question forever."
At the same instant, Major Barton entered, followed by two men.
"I suspected I should find you here, sir," said he, addressing me. "Youneed scarcely trouble my worthy friend for his bail; I arrest you nowunder a warrant of felony."
"A felony!" exclaimed Basset, with a counterfeited astonishment in hislook. "Mr. Burke accused of such a crime!"
I could not utter a word; indignation and shame overpowered me, andmerely motioning with my hand that I was ready to accompany him, Ifollowed to the door, at which a carriage was standing, getting intowhich we drove towards Newgate.
Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume II Page 35