Clearly Father Jerome felt himself aggrieved that the old butler waspreferred to him, for he intimated that he should have been very happyto undertake the management of the house, if Miss Rawcliffe desiredit; but she declared she would not give him the trouble.
"I should not deem it a trouble," he said. "Is Markland to have allthe keys?"
"Yes, your reverence," interposed the butler. "Since I am maderesponsible for everything, it is necessary that I should have thekeys. Miss Rawcliffe can depend on me.
"That I can, Markland," she rejoined. "I have had abundant proofs ofyour trustiness. My return is uncertain. I may be away for two orthree months--perhaps for a longer period. During my absence you havefull power to act for me; but in any emergency you will of courseconsult Father Jerome."
"I shall always be ready to advise him, and I trust he will be guidedby my counsel," said the priest.
"I will act for the best," observed Markland. "Nothing shall go wrongif I can help it. But you must please excuse me, miss. I have much todo, and not too much time to do it in. I must get the old coach put inorder for the journey. As you know, it has not been out for this manya day."
"Daughter," said the priest, as soon as Markland was gone, "you placetoo much confidence in that man. I hope you may not be deceived inhim. He ought not to have access to the strong room. Better leave thekey of that room with me."
"I would not hurt his feelings by withholding that key from him,"replied Constance. "But I have no fear of Markland. He is honestyitself."
Later on in the day, Constance had some further conversation inprivate with the old butler, and, notwithstanding Father Jerome'sdisparaging observations, she showed no diminution in her confidencein him; but gave him particular instructions as to how he was to actunder certain circumstances, and concluded by desiring him on noaccount to allow the priest to enter the strong room.
"He has no business there, Markland," she observed, significantly.
"And I will take good care he doesn't get in," rejoined the oldbutler. "I think I shall prove a match for Father Jerome, with all hiscunning. But oh! my dear young lady," he added, "how it would gladdenmy heart if you should be able to bring back Sir Conway with you. Oh!if I should see him restored to his own, and made happy with her heloves best, I shall die content!"
"Well, Markland, Dr. Byrom holds out a hope of pardon. Should I haveany good news to communicate, you shall be among the first to hearit."
"Thank you! thank you, miss!" he cried, hastening out of the room tohide his emotion.
The parting between Monica and her mother took place in the invalidlady's room. No one was present at the time, for Constance had justbade adieu to her aunt. As Monica knelt on a footstool beside hermother, the latter gazed long and earnestly into her face, as ifregarding her for the last time.
"We shall never meet again in this world, my dear child," she said. "Ishall be gone before you return. But do not heed me. You cannotdisobey the summons you have received. Go!--attend your affiancedhusband in his prison. Lighten his captivity. Solace him--pray withhim--and should his judges condemn him, prepare him to meet his fate!"
"I will--I will," cried Monica. "But do not utterly dishearten me."
"I would not pain you, my dear child," said her mother, in accents ofdeepest sympathy. "But the words rise unbidden to my lips, and I mustgive utterance to them. Your case has been my case. Agony, such as Ionce endured, you will have to endure. But your trial will not beprolonged like mine. I had a terrible dream last night. I cannotrecount it to you, but it has left a profound impression on my mind. Ifear what I beheld may come to pass."
"What was it?" exclaimed Monica, shuddering. "Let me know the worst. Ican bear it."
"No--I have said too much already. And now embrace me, dearest child.We shall not be long separated."
Monica flung her arms round her mother's neck, and kissed her againand again--sobbing a tender farewell.
She then moved slowly towards the door, but on reaching it, she rushedback, and once more embraced her.
Thus they parted. Mrs. Butler's presentiments were justified. Theynever met again.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE JOURNEY.
The old family coach, with four horses attached to it, was drawn up inthe court-yard. The luggage was packed. The servants were assembled inthe hall to bid their young mistress good-bye, when Constance andMonica came downstairs fully attired for the journey.
They were followed by Miss Rawcliffe's pretty maid, Lettice, who, withthe man-servant, Gregory, had been chosen to accompany them to London.Lettice carried a great bundle of cloaks, and looked full of delight,forming a strong contrast to the young ladies. Monica, indeed, wasdissolved in tears, and hurried on to bury herself in the furthestcorner of the carriage.
Constance, though wearing a sad expression, was far more composed, andreplied kindly to the valedictions of the household. She also badeadieu to Father Jerome, who attended her to the door, and gave her hisbenediction. To Markland she had a few words to say, and she thenstepped into the carriage, followed by Lettice. After putting up thesteps, and fastening the door, Gregory mounted to the box.
All being now ready, Markland bowed respectfully, and ordered thepostillions to drive on. Next moment the large coach rolled over thedrawbridge, and the old butler and the gate-keeper watched it as ittook its way through the park. The drive was not very cheerful, butbefore they reached Macclesfield, Constance had recovered her spirits.
At the Old Angel they found Dr. Byrom and his daughter, who had postedfrom Manchester, waiting for them. The doctor's trunks were quicklytransferred to the carriage, while he and Beppy took their seatsinside. No inconvenience whatever was caused by this addition to theparty, for the coach was capacious enough to hold half-a-dozen personscomfortably. That night they stopped at Ashbourne, and next dayproceeded to Leicester.
It is not our intention to describe the journey to London, unmarked asit was by any incident worthy of note, but we must mention that, owingto the unfailing good humour of Dr. Byrom and his daughter, the threedays spent on the road passed away very pleasantly.
No more agreeable companion could be found than the doctor, and ifBeppy did not possess the remarkable conversational powers of herfather, she was extremely lively and entertaining. She made everyeffort to cheer Monica, and to a certain extent succeeded.
Dr. Byrom had far less difficulty in dissipating Constance's gloom,and leading her to take a brighter view of the future. So confidentdid he seem that a pardon could be obtained for Atherton, that heruneasiness on that score, if not removed, was materially lightened.
With the exception of Dr. Byrom, not one of the travellers hadpreviously visited London, and when they first caught sight of thevast city from Highgate Hill, and noted its numerous towers andspires, with the dome of St. Paul's rising in the midst of them, theywere struck with admiration.
They were still gazing at the prospect, and Dr. Byrom was pointing outthe Tower and other celebrated structures, when the clatter of hoofsreached their ears, and in another minute a well-mounted horsemanpresented himself at the carriage window. At first the young ladiesthought it was a highwayman, and even Dr. Byrom shared the opinion,but a second glance showed them that the formidable equestrian was noother than Atherton Legh.
"My sudden appearance seems to alarm you," he cried smiling, as hebowed to the party. "I have been nearer to you than you imagined, andcould at any time have overtaken you had I thought proper. But beforeyou enter yonder mighty city I should like to know where I shall findyou.
"We shall put up at the St. James's Hotel in Jermyn Street," repliedDr. Byrom, "but you had better not come there at first. I will giveyou a place of rendezvous. Be in the Mall in St. James's Parkto-morrow afternoon, about four o'clock, and look out for me."
"I will not fail," replied Atherton. Again bowing round and glancingtenderly at Constance, he galloped off.
Gregory, the man-servant on the box, and the postillions, had seen hisapproach with dismay, b
eing under the same impression as thegentlefolks inside, and fully expected the carriage would be stopped.Gregory, however, speedily recognised the young gentleman, and calledto the postillions that it was all right.
Brief as it was, the unexpected rencounter was highly satisfactory toConstance, as it relieved her mind of any anxiety she had felt as toAtherton's safety.
Within half an hour after this little incident, which furnished themwith abundant materials for conversation, they reached the outskirtsof London, and were soon making their way through a variety of streetstowards the west end of the town.
Prepared as they were for something extraordinary, our young countryladies were fairly bewildered by all they beheld. Oxford Street theythought wonderful, but it was quite eclipsed by Hanover Square, BondStreet, and Piccadilly.
At length they reached Jermyn-street, where they found very charmingapartments at the St. James's Hotel.
End of the Fifth Book.
BOOK VI.
KENNINGTON COMMON.
CHAPTER I.
MONICA VISITS JEMMY IN NEWGATE.
On the morning after the arrival of the party in town, Monica beingall anxiety to see her lover, Dr. Byrom accompanied her in ahackney-coach to the prison in which poor Jemmy was confined. Duringthe drive she supported herself tolerably well, but on reachingNewgate she well-nigh fainted.
The necessary arrangements for her admittance to the prisoner havingbeen made by the doctor, he assisted her out of the coach.
On entering the lodge she was obliged to remove her hood. A gaolerthen conducted them along a passage that skirted the refection-hall,after which they ascended a short stone staircase which brought themto a gallery containing several chambers.
Unlocking the door of one of these cells the gaoler disclosed Jemmy.He was seated at a small table reading, and on raising his head, andbeholding Monica, he sprang to his feet, and with a cry of delightclasped her to his breast.
So tender was their meeting that even the hardened gaoler was touchedby it.
For a minute or two Jemmy did not notice Dr. Byrom, but on becomingsensible of his presence he wrung his hand, and thanked him inheartfelt tones for bringing his mistress to him. The doctor then toldMonica that he would wait for her in the hall below, and quitted thecell.
"And so this is your prison-chamber, dearest Jemmy!" said Monica,glancing round it. "'Tis just the room I pictured from yourdescription."
"I thought it dismal at first," he rejoined; "but I have become quitecontent with it. I shall feel no longer miserable since you are come.You must never leave me more."
"I never will," she replied.
They then lapsed into silence. Words seemed unnecessary to expresstheir thoughts, and it was quite happiness enough to them to betogether.
Leaving them we shall follow Dr. Byrom to the hall ward, where hefound several prisoners assembled. Amongst them were Theodore Deaconand Tom Syddall. Taking the former aside he acquainted him with thedeath of his brother Robert, of which the young man had not heard.Though deeply affected by the intelligence, Captain Deacon bore itfirmly.
Shortly afterwards Colonel Townley entered the hall, and on seeing Dr.Byrom immediately came up to him, and shook hands with him verycordially.
"We meet again under rather melancholy circumstances, my dear doctor,"he said. "But I am extremely glad to see you. Fortune has played mefalse, but I hope she has nothing worse in store for me. TheGovernment must deliver me up. They cannot deny that I hold acommission from the King of France, and that I have been fifteen yearsin the French service. Still I know the hazard I run," he added,shrugging his shoulders. "But come with me to my room. I want to say aword to you in private."
With this, he led the doctor to a cell situated near the hall. It wassomewhat larger than the chamber allotted to Captain Dawson, andbetter furnished.
"Pray take a seat," said the colonel, doing the honours of his room."I want to learn something about Atherton Legh."
"He is safe and in London," replied Dr. Byrom. "I expect to see himto-day. I hope to procure him a pardon, and I will tell you how. Youare aware that his mother was Miss Conway. She was sister to ColonelConway, who is now aide-de-camp to the Duke of Cumberland, and a greatfavourite of his royal highness. If Colonel Conway will intercede forhis nephew with the duke, no doubt he will be successful."
"I should think so," replied Townley. "But is Colonel Conway aware ofhis nephew's existence?"
"No," replied Dr. Byrom. "If he has heard of him at all, it must be asCaptain Legh. He may have seen him at Carlisle."
"Yes, when the young man was captured during a sally," said Townley;"but he knew nothing of the relationship. However, unless the Colonelshould be deeply offended with his nephew for joining the prince, hecan obtain his pardon, that is certain. Was there any intercoursebetween Sir Richard Rawcliffe and the Conway family?"
"Not since the death of Sir Oswald's widow. They did not like him--andno wonder. But all this is favourable to our young friend. They willbe glad to recognise him as Sir Conway."
"I don't doubt it," replied Townley. "I hope he may regain RawcliffeHall, and marry his fair cousin."
They then began to discuss political matters, and were talkingtogether in a low tone when the gaoler entered the cell, and informedDr. Byrom that the young lady he had brought to the prison was waitingfor him. The doctor then took leave of his friend, promising to visithim again very shortly, and accompanied the gaoler to the lodge, wherehe found Monica. A coach was then called and took them to JermynStreet.
CHAPTER II.
COLONEL CONWAY.
They found Constance and Beppy prepared for a walk. Beppy had takenparticular pains with her toilette, and being rather gaily attired,formed a contrast to Constance, who was still in deep mourning. Theytried to persuade Monica to accompany them, but she declined, so theywent out with Dr. Byrom, and walked down St. James's Street to thePark. The day was fine, and they were quite enchanted with the noveltyand brilliancy of the scene. Both young ladies looked so well thatthey attracted considerable attention among the gaily-attired company.After walking about for some time they perceived Atherton, whoimmediately joined them. He was plainly but handsomely dressed, andlooked exceedingly well.
"I have arranged matters for you," said Dr. Byrom. "A room is securedfor you at the St. James's Hotel. You must pass as my son Edward. Thatwill remove all suspicion."
"I shall be quite content to do so," replied the young man.
They then continued their walk, and had quitted the crowded part ofthe Mall, when an officer in full uniform, and followed by an orderly,was seen riding slowly down the avenue in the direction of the HorseGuards. He was a fine handsome man in the prime of life, and of verydistinguished appearance. Atherton immediately recognised him asColonel Conway, and, acting upon a sudden impulse, stepped forward toaddress him.
Colonel Conway reined in his steed, and returned the young man'ssalute.
"I forget your name," said the colonel. "But unless my eyes deceiveme, I have seen you before."
"You saw me at Carlisle, colonel."
"Why, then, you were in Colonel Townley's Manchester Regiment--you arethe rebel officer whom I myself captured. How is it that you act inthis foolhardy manner? I shall be compelled to order your immediatearrest!"
"Not so, colonel. I am perfectly safe with you."
"How, sir!" cried Colonel Conway, sharply. "Dare you presume?"
"You will not arrest your sister's son," replied Atherton.
"Did I hear aright?" exclaimed the colonel, scanning him narrowly.
"Yes, I am your nephew, the son of Sir Oswald Rawcliffe," replied theyoung man.
Colonel Conway uttered an exclamation of surprise.
"I don't doubt what you say," he cried. "You certainly bear aremarkable resemblance to your father. Am I to conclude you are themissing heir?"
"Even so," replied Atherton. "I have sufficient proofs to support myclaim whenever I choose to make it. But it is a long story, and cannotbe told n
ow. Dr. Byrom of Manchester will vouch for the truth of thestatement."
And at a sign from the young man the doctor stepped forward.
"I did not expect to be called up at this moment, colonel," said thedoctor. "But you may rest satisfied that this young gentleman is yournephew. He is the lost Sir Conway Rawcliffe."
"But you did not serve under that name at Carlisle?" cried thecolonel, eagerly. "If I remember right, you were known as AthertonLegh?"
"Exactly," replied the young man. "I have not yet assumed my rightfulname and title."
"I am glad of it," cried the colonel. "By heaven! I am fairlyperplexed how to act."
"You will not act precipitately, colonel," said Dr. Byrom. "It was myintention to communicate with you on your nephew's behalf this veryday."
"I wish I had not seen him," cried the colonel. "Why did he puthimself in my way?"
"I had no such design, sir, I assure you," said Atherton.
"Will you allow us to wait on you, colonel?" asked Dr. Byrom.
"Wait on me! No! unless you want the young man to be arrested. Whereare you staying?" he added to Atherton.
"You will find me at the St. James's Hotel at any hour you may pleaseto appoint, colonel."
"I am staying there, colonel," said Dr. Byrom; "and so is MissRawcliffe--the late Sir Richard Rawcliffe's daughter."
Colonel Conway reflected for a moment. Then addressing Atherton, hesaid:
The Manchester Rebels of the Fatal '45 Page 33