Captain Barecolt was not, according to the old proverb, like a garden full of weeds; for, although he was undoubtedly a man of words, he was also a man of deeds, as the reader may have already remarked, and the deeds which he had performed since we last left him sitting in the parlour of Mrs. White were manifold and various. His first expedition was to the chamber of Arrah Neil, where the worthy landlady's sense of decorum, as well as her privilege of curiosity, kept her present during the conference.
Poor Arrah--although at one time she certainly had not been impressed with the deepest sense of the personal merits of Captain Deciduous Barecolt--had seen enough of his conduct in the skirmish which took place at the bridge, to entertain a much higher respect for him than before; and even had not such been the case, there is something in the very sight of persons whom we have beheld in companionship with those we love, which, by awakening sweet associations--those pleasant door-keepers of the heart--renders their presence cheering to us in the hour of misfortune and distress.
Mrs. White, too, upon Captain Barecolt's own statement, had assured Arrah, that he came expressly to deliver her; and she looked upon her escape from the clutches of Mr. Dry as now quite certain, with the aid of the good landlady, and the more vigorous assistance of Barecolt's long arm and long sword. She greeted him gladly, then, and with a bright smile; but Barecolt, when he now saw her, could scarcely believe that she was the same person with whom he had marched two days during the absence from Bishop's Merton, not alone from the change in her dress, though that of course made a very great difference, but from the look of intelligence and mind which her whole countenance displayed, and from the total absence of that lost and bewildered expression which had been before so frequently present on her face. Her great beauty, which had then been often clouded by that strange shadow that we have so frequently mentioned, was now lighted up--like a fair landscape first seen in the dim twilight of the morning, when the sun rises upon it in all the majesty of light.
"Do not be the least afraid, my dear young lady," said Captain Barecolt, after the first congratulations of their meeting were over, and he had quieted down his surprise and admiration. "Do not be at all afraid. I will deliver you, if the gates should be guarded by fiery dragons. Not only have I a thousand times accomplished enterprises to which this, of circumventing the dull burgesses of Hull, is no more than eating the mites of a cheese off the point of a knife; but here we have to assist us good Mrs. White, one of the most excellent women that ever lived upon the face of this earth. It is true I have but had the pleasure and honour of her acquaintance for the space of one hour and three-quarters; but when you come to consider that I have been called upon to converse and deal with, and investigate and examine, in the most perilous circumstances, and in the most awful situations, many millions of my fellow-creatures, of every different shade, variety, and complexion of mind, you will easily understand that it needs but a glance for me to estimate and appreciate the excellence of a person so well disposed as Mrs. White."
"Oh, yes!" cried Arrah, interrupting him; "I know that she is kind and good, and will do everything she can to help and deliver me. She was kind to me long ago, and one can never forget kindness. But when shall we go, Captain Barecolt? Cannot we go to-night?"
"That is impossible, my dear young lady," replied Barecolt; "for there are many things to be done. In the first instance, these papers, which Mrs. White talks of--they must be obtained, if possible. Has this man got them about him, do you think?"
"I cannot tell," replied Arrah; "I do not even know that he has got them at all. I only know that the cottage was stripped when I came back, and that they, with everything else, were gone."
"Oh, he has got them! he has got them, my dear child!" cried Mrs. White; "for depend upon it, that if he did not know you were a very different person from Sergeant Neil's grand-daughter, just as well as I do, he would never be so anxious about marrying you--a weazened old red herring! I dare say he has got them safe in his trunk-mail."
"I will go," said Barecolt, "and cut them out of his heart;" and at the same moment he rose, laid his hand upon his dagger, and strode towards the door.
"Don't do him any mischief--don't do him any mischief in my house!" cried Mrs. White, laying her hand upon the captain's arm. "Pray, remember, captain, there will be inquiry made, as sure as you are alive. You had better not take them till you are quite ready to go."
"Thou art a wise woman, Mrs. White," replied Captain Barecolt; "thou art a wise woman, and I will forbear. I will but ascertain whether he has these papers, while he yet lies in the mud of drunkenness, and leave the appropriation of them till an after period."
Thus saying, he quitted the room; and having marked, with all his shrewd perception, the door which had been opened and shut when the reverend and respectable Mr. Dry, of Longsoaken, was carried tipsy to his bed, he walked straight into his room with a candle in his hand, and approaching the drunken man, gazed on his face, to see that he was still in that state of insensibility to what was passing round him which was necessary to his present purposes. Mr. Dry was happily snoring unconsciously, almost in a state of apoplexy; and approaching a large pair of saddlebags, Barecolt took them up, laid them on a chair, and opened them without either ceremony or scruple. The wardrobe of Mr. Dry was soon exposed to view: a short cloak, a black coat, a clean stiff band, well starched and ironed, in case he should be called upon to hold forth; a pair of brown breeches and grey stockings; three shirts of delicately fine linen, and sundry other articles: these were soon cast upon the ground, and the arm of the valorous captain plunged up to the elbow in the heart of the begs, searching about for anything having the feel of paper.
For some minutes his perquisition was vain; but at length, in drawing out his hand suddenly, the knuckles struck against the lining of the bag, at a spot where something like a button made itself apparent; and feeling more closely, the worthy captain discovered an inside pocket.
Into that his fingers were soon dipped; and with an air of triumph he drew forth some three sheets of written paper, and carrying them to the candle, examined them minutely. What was his disappointment, however, when the first words that struck his eyes were--"Habakkuk ii. 5; 2 Chronicles ii. 7, 9; Micah vi.; Lamentations iii. 7; Amos ii. 4.--For three transgressions of Judah, and for four, I will not turn away the punishment thereof."
"The hypocritical old swine!" cried Barecolt; "what have we got next?" and turning over the page, he looked at the paper which was enclosed in the other, which he found to be something a little more important, namely, a letter from the parliamentary Colonel Thistleton to Mr. Dry, informing him that he would be at Bishop's Merton on the day after the date thereof, and begging him to keep a watchful eye upon the malignant lord, that no changes might take place till he arrived; thus establishing beyond all manner of doubt worthy Mr. Dry's collusion in the visit of the parliamentary commission to the house of Lord Walton.
The next paper, which was the only one now remaining, seemed to puzzle Captain Barecolt more than even Mr. Dry's list of texts. It was evidently a paper of memoranda, in his own handwriting, but so brief that, without some clue, little could be made of it. At the top stood the name of Hugh O'Donnell; then came the words, "Whose daughter was her mother?" Below that was written, "Are there any of them living? What's the county? Ulster, it would seem? Sequestrated? or attainted? Where did the money come from? How much a-year? What will he take?"
Bearing this away, after having made another search in the bag, and thrown it down upon the scattered articles of clothing which remained upon the floor, worthy Captain Barecolt retrod his steps to the room of Arrah Neil, and there, with the fair girl herself, and the worthy landlady, he pored over the paper, and endeavoured to gain some further insight into its meaning.
Conjectures enough were formed, but with them we will not trouble the reader. Suffice it that Captain Barecolt determined to copy the paper, which being done, he replaced it with Mr. Dry's apparel in that worthy gentleman's bags, and then left him to sleep off his drunkenness, wishing him heartily that sort of sickening headache which is the usual consequence of such intemperance as he had indulged in that night.
To Arrah Neil he subsequently explained, that his various avocations in the town of Hull would give him enough to do during the following day, but that he did hope and trust, about midnight, or very early the next morning, to be able to guide her safely forth from the gates of the town, together with a friend of his who, he explained to her, was still a captive in the hands of the governor.
After bidding her adieu, he descended once more to the little parlour of Mrs. White, and there held a long and confidential conference with her regarding his proceedings on the following day. He found the good lady all that he could have desired, a staunch royalist at heart, and thoroughly acquainted with the character, views, and principles of a multitude of the officers and soldiers of the train-bands. She told him whom he could depend upon, and whom he could not; where, when, and how they were to be found, and what were the best means of rendering them accessible to his solicitations. She also furnished him with the address of Mr. Hugh O'Donnell, and having gained all this information, the worthy captain retired to bed to rise prepared for action on the following day.
Profound were his slumbers. No dream shook the long and cumbrous body that lay there, like some colossal column fallen on the sands of the desert, and he scarcely moved or stirred a finger till the young Morning peeped with her grey eye in at the window, when up he started, rubbing his head, and exclaiming--"There's the trumpet, by----!"
It was the first vision he had had; but in a moment or two he was wide awake again, and, remembering his appointment with the governor of Hull, he plunged his head into cold water, wiped it with the towels provided, drew, his beard into a neat point, and, putting on his clothes, again descended to seek for some breakfast before he set out.
He had not got through half the flagon of beer, however, nor demolished above a pound of beef, when Captain Jenkins arrived, and found him speaking execrable English to Nancy, in order to hurry her with some fried eggs, which she was preparing as an addition to the meal.
"Begar, I never vas see such voman as de English cooks! Dem can no more make de omlet dan dey can fly. Vait but von leetle meenute, my dear Captain Jenkin, and I go vid you."
"I can't wait," said Captain Jenkins, in a rough tone; "it's time to be there now. If you had lodged at the 'Rose,' we should not have had half so far to go."
"Ah, dat is very true! dat is very true!" cried Barecolt. "I lodge dere anoder time; but if ye must go, vy den here goes," and putting the tankard to his mouth, with one long and prodigious draught he brought the liquor within to the bottom.
Being then once more conducted to the presence of the governor, he was detained some little time, while Sir John gave various orders and directions, and then set out with him upon a tour of the fortifications, followed, as we have represented the party, by three soldiers, Captain Jenkins having been dismissed for the time. If Barecolt, however, had won upon the governor during their first interview, on this second occasion he ingratiated himself still further with the worthy officer. Nor, indeed, was it without cause that Barecolt rose high in the opinion of Sir John, for he had his own sense of what was honest and right, though it was a somewhat twisted and perverted one, and he would not, on any account, so long as his advice was asked, and likely to be taken, have given wrong and dangerous counsel upon the pretence of friendship and service.
He pointed out, then, to the governor, with great shrewdness and discrimination, numerous weak points in the defences, gave him various hints for strengthening them without the loss of much time; and, while pausing before the block-house in which he knew Lord Beverley was confined, he drew upon the ground the plan of a small fort, which he showed the governor might be very serviceable in the defence of the town upon the river side.
Having now gone nearly half round the walls, and being pressed by hunger as much as business, Sir John returned to break his fast, and once more placed Captain Barecolt under the guidance of Jenkins; adding a hint, however, to the latter, that his suspicions of the Frenchman were removed, and that every assistance was to be given him in carrying into execution the suggestions he had made.
Barecolt's difficulty now was, how to get rid of his companion; but as the citizen-soldier was somewhat pursy and heavy in his temperament, our worthy friend contrived, in the space of a few hours, to cast him into such a state of perspiration and fatigue, by rapid motion from one part of the town to the other, that he was ready to drop. In the course of these perambulations, he led him, as we have seen, once more past the block-house, in order to confer for a moment with Lord Beverley; after which he brought him dexterously into the neighbourhood of his own dwelling, and then told him if he would go and get his dinner, while he did the same, they would meet again in two hours at a spot which he named.
The proposal was a blessed relief to the captain of the train-bands, who internally promised himself to take very good care to give the long-legged Frenchman as little of his company as possible.
Barecolt, however, though his appetite, as the reader knows, was of a capacious and ever-ready kind, sacrificed inclination to what he considered duty, and hastened, without breaking bread, to seek two of those persons whom Mrs. White had pointed out to him as worthy of all confidence, and likely to engage in the adventure which he had in hand.
He had some difficulty, however, in making the first of these, who was an ancient of the train-bands, and well affected to the king, repose any trust in him--for the man was prudent, and somewhat suspicious by nature, and he entertained shrewd doubts as to the honesty, of Captain Barecolt's purpose towards him. He shook his head, assumed a blank and somewhat unmeaning countenance, vowed he did not understand, and when the worthy captain spoke more plainly, told him that he had better take care how he talked such stuff in Hull.
On this hint Barecolt withdrew, suspecting that the information he had received from his landlady was not the most accurate in the world. He resolved, however, to make another effort, and try to gain assistance from the second person she had mentioned, though he, having displayed his loyalty somewhat too openly, was not one to be placed in a situation of confidence by the officers of the parliament.
The abode of this man, who was a sign-painter by trade, named Falgate, was with much difficulty discovered up two pair of stairs in a back street; but when Captain Barecolt had climbed to his high dwelling, he found a personage of a frank and joyful countenance hewing away at the remain of a leg of mutton on a large wooden trencher, and washing his food down with copious draughts of very good beer. His propensity towards these creature-comforts was a favourable omen in the eyes of our worthy captain; but he was joyfully surprised when good Diggory Falgate started up, with his mouth all shining with mutton fat, and embraced him heartily, exclaiming, "Welcome, my noble captain! I have been expecting you this last hour."
He proceeded, however, speedily to explain that he had looked in at the "Swan" a short time before to take his morning draught, and that the good landlady had given him information of Captain Barecolt's character and objects.
With him all arrangements were very easy. Diggory Falgate was ready for any enterprise that might present itself; and, with the gay and dashing spirit which reigned amongst Cavaliers of high and low degree, he was just as willing to walk up to a cannon's mouth in the service of the king as to a tankard of strong waters on his own behalf, to cut down a Roundhead, to make love to a pretty maiden, to spend his money, or to sing his song.
"Ha! ha! ha!" he exclaimed, as Barecolt intimated to him the rebuff that he met with from the ancient of the train-bands; "Billy Hazard is a cunning rogue. I'll bet you a pint of sack that he thought you some Roundhead come to take him in. Stay here, stay here, and finish my tankard for me. I'll run and fetch him, and you will soon see a difference."
Barecolt willingly agreed to play the part his companion proposed, and before he had made free more than twice with the large black jug that graced his new friend's table, Falgate had himself returned, followed by his more sedate and cautious acquaintance.
"Here he is, here he is! as wise as a whipping-post," exclaimed the sign-painter, "which receives all the lashes, and never says a word. There sits Captain Barecolt, ancient Hazard; so to him, and tell him what you would do to serve the king."
"A great deal," replied Hazard. "I beg your pardon, sir, for giving you such a rough answer just now, but I did not know you."
"Always be cautious, always be cautious, mine ancient," replied Barecolt; "so will you be a general in time, and a good one; but now let us to business as fast as possible. You must know that there's a prisoner----"
"Ay, I know, in the block-house," cried Diggory Falgate, "and he is to be taken out to-night. Isn't it so, noble captain? Now, I'll bet you three radishes to a dozen of crowns that this is some man of great consequence."
Barecolt nodded his head.
"Is it the king?" asked Falgate, in a whisper.
"Phoo, nonsense!" cried Barecolt. "The king's at the head of his army, and, before ten days are over, will march into Hull with drum and colours, will hang the governor, disband the garrison, and overthrow the walls. Why, the place can no more hold out against the power that the king has, than a fresh egg can resist the side of a frying-pan. No; this gentleman is a man of the greatest consequence, in whom the king places vast reliance, and he must be got out at all risks. If you can but get rid of that cursed guard, if it be but for ten minutes, I will do all the rest."
"That will be no difficult matter," replied Hazard, after thinking for a moment. "Here, Diggory and I will manage all that; but how will you get him out of the town when you've done?"
"That's all arranged already," replied Barecolt: "I have a pass for visiting the walls and gates at any hour between sunrise and sunset, to inspect and repair the fortifications, forsooth I will manage the whole of that matter; but how will you contrive to get away the guard?"
Diggory and his companion consulted for a moment together, and at length the former clapped his hands, exclaiming, "That will do! that will do! Hark ye, Captain Barecolt! we are not particularly strict soldiers here, and I will get the fellow away to drink with me."
"He won't do it!" exclaimed Barecolt. "It's death by the law."
"Then I'll quarrel with him," replied Diggory; "and in either case up comes mine ancient here, rates him soundly, relieves him of his guard, sends him back to the guardhouse, and bids him order down the next upon the roll. In the mean while you get your man out, and away with him, locking the door behind you; and no one knows anything of the matter."
"It will do! it will do!" cried Barecolt; and after some further conversation, in which all the particulars of their plan were arranged, Barecolt took his leave, appointing them to meet him at the "Swan" that night towards ten o'clock, and proceeded on his way to seek out the house of Mr. Hugh O'Donnell.
There was a long row of sheds at the far end of the town of Hull, open towards the Humber, and enclosed on three sides towards the town. A little patch of green lay on one side the city wall; on the other, between the sheds and the river, ran a small footpath, and behind rose a good-looking dwelling of two stories high. With a quick but quiet step--unusually quiet, indeed, for he generally displayed his high opinion of himself in the elasticity of his toes--Captain Barecolt pursued the little path till he came in front of the sheds, and then paused to reconnoitre the ground.
He first looked into the open side of the buildings; but nothing did he see only sundry stockfish hanging up in rows by the tails, together with a heap of coals in one corner, and two large bales or packages covered with canvass in another. He then looked over the Humber, where the sun was struggling with some misty clouds, gilding the sky, and glittering on the calm, unruffled waters. There was nothing of great importance to be discovered on that side either, and the only object that seemed to attract the attention of the worthy captain was the top of a boat's mast, which rose over the bank between him and the river.
As soon as he perceived it, he turned an ear in that direction, and thought he heard people speaking, upon which he advanced quietly to the top of the bank and looked down. There was a man in the boat, apparently about to push off, and another standing on the shore, giving him some directions; and the first sight of the latter showed our friend that he had not mistaken his way; for there he beheld the stout, tall, good-looking elderly man whom he had seen with Mrs. White on the preceding evening.
His back was turned to Captain Barecolt, and, as the latter stood waiting till the boat had pushed off, he heard him say, "Well, don't make a noise about it. Do everything easily and quietly."
The man in the boat, however, at once caught a sight of the intruder upon their conversation, and pointed towards him with his hand, upon which Mr. Hugh O'Donnell turned quickly round, with an inquiring and somewhat stern expression, and then advanced straight up to Captain Barecolt, while the boat rowed away.
"Pray, sir, are you wanting me?" demanded Mr. O'Donnell, with a strong touch of that peculiar percussion of the breath which has acquired--why or wherefore who can tell?--the name of "brogue," regarding the captain, at the same time, with not the most amicable glance in the world.
"Yes, Master O'Donnell," replied Barecolt, in good plain English, "I am wanting you; and by your leave we must have a little conversation together."
Hugh O'Donnell gazed at him with some surprise, for he recollected him well as the French officer who had visited the sign of the "Swan" on the preceding evening; but he was a cautious man, notwithstanding his Milesian blood, long accustomed to deal with somewhat dangerous affairs, and well aware that the most indiscreet of all passions is surprise; and therefore, without appearing to recognise his visiter, he said, "If our conversation is to be at all long, sir, it had better be within doors than without."
"It may be long," replied Barecolt, drily; "and yet it cannot be very long, for I have not too much time to spare; but, whether long or short, it had better be where we can have no eaves-droppers, Mr. O'Donnell; and so we will walk in."
Barecolt followed him to the house, where a clean and respectable old woman-servant was seen sanding the floor of a parlour, the boards of which were scrubbed to a marvellous whiteness, though the walls, to say the truth, were somewhat dingy, and a strong flavour of tobacco smoke rather detracted from the purity of the air. That odour, however, was no objection to the nose of Captain Barecolt, who cast himself into a chair, while the master of the mansion sent away the servant and closed the door.
As soon as this process was complete, the worthy captain fixed his eyes upon Mr. O'Donnell, and demanded, "You recollect me, of course, sir?"
"I think I have seen your face somewhere," replied the Irishman; "but, Lord love you! I never recollect anything after it is over. It's better not, sir. I make life a ready-money business, and keep neither receipts nor bills."
"Quite right, Mr. O'Donnell," replied Captain Barecolt; "but yet I think I must get you to draw a draft upon the past. That word or two from Mrs. White will tell you what it is about;" and he handed his companion across the little round oaken table a small bit of paper.
O'Donnell took it, read the contents, and then mused for a minute or two, tapping the table with his fingers.
"Well, sir," he said, at length, "what is it you want to know?"
"All that you can tell me about the young lady whom they call Arrah Neil."
"Oh, sir, I will tell you all I know about her in a minute," replied the other; "he is now at the 'Swan,' Mrs. White's own house, under the care--or, if you like it better, in the hands of a very reverend gentleman called Master Dry of Longsoaken."
"That won't do, Mr. O'Donnell--that won't do," exclaimed Barecolt. "What I want to know is about the past--not the present--of which I know more than you do, Mr. O'Donnell."
"I never seek to know anything of other people's business," replied O'Donnell, drily. "I have enough to do to attend to my own."
"Which is the supplying Roman Catholic gentry with salt fish for fast days, together with beads, missals, crucifixes, and other little trinkets for private use," answered Barecolt, who had been using his eyes and forming his own conclusions from numerous indications apparently trifling.
O'Donnell, without any change of expression, gazed at him gravely, and the captain continued--"But that is nothing to the purpose, my good friend. I see you are a prudent man, and I dare say you have cause to be so. However, I will tell you why I inquire; and then we will see whether you will not be kind enough to a poor young lady to give her some information concerning her own affairs, of which, from the death of poor old Sergeant Neil, and his papers having been carried off by this old puritanical hunks Dry, she has been kept in ignorance. You must know that this young lady has found great and powerful friends in the Lord Walton and his sister."
"Then why did they suffer her to fall into this man's hands?" demanded O'Donnell.
"Because they could not prevent it," replied Barecolt; and he went on to give a full account of the march from Bishop's Merton and the skirmish which had taken place upon the road, with all of which we need not trouble the reader, whose imagination can supply or not, as it pleases, Captain Barecolt's account of his own deeds of arms. From those deeds, after due commemoration, he went on to speak of Lord Walton's anxiety for poor Arrah Neil's safety; and though we cannot presume to say his tale was plain or unvarnished either, yet there was enough of truth about it to make some change in Mr. O'Donnell's views.
"Where is Lord Walton to be found?" demanded the latter.
"He is with the king at Nottingham," answered Barecolt. "Well then, he shall hear from me before long," replied O'Donnell.
"You had better let me bear him your message, my good sir," said the captain. "You may judge, from my being entrusted here with such important business, that I am one in whom you may place the most unlimited confidence."
"Perhaps so, sir," answered O'Donnell; "but if I were such a fool or such a scoundrel as to betray other people's secrets, how should I expect that you would keep them?"
"That is very true," rejoined Barecolt; "but if you do not tell them to me, and help me too to get the young lady out of this town of Hull, you will be compelled to tell them to her enemies, and may make her situation a great deal worse than it is now."
"They can't compel me; I defy them!" cried O'Donnell, sharply; "and help you to get her out of Hull I will with all my heart, but how is that to be done?" The next moment he asked, in a meditative tone, "What makes you think they will ask me any questions?"
"I not only think they will ask you questions, Mr. O'Donnell, but I will tell you what those questions will be," replied the captain; and taking a paper from his pocket he went on: "Before many hours are over you will have Mr. Dry himself here, and perhaps the justices, if not the governor, and you will be asked, 'Whose daughter was her mother?--are any of her family living?--in what county?--in Ulster?--whether the estates were sequestrated or the blood attainted?--where the money came from you used to send to poor Neil, and how much it was a-year?'"
"Oh, by----, they must have got hold of a good clue!" exclaimed O'Donnell, with more agitation than he had hitherto displayed.
"That they have, Master O'Donnell," replied Barecolt; "but if Dry comes alone, as he will most likely do at first, he will ask you one other question before he tries to force you, and that is: how much you will take to tell him the whole story, that he may possess himself of the property and force the poor child into marrying him."
"Ay, he's a reasonable man, I dare say, Master Dry," replied the Irishman, with a sarcastic smile; "but he will find himself mistaken: and, as to forcing me, they can't! Moreover, for your own questions, good sir, all I shall say; is this: that you may tell Lord Walton that he must take care of this poor young lady."
"That he is willing enough to do without my telling," answered Barecolt.
"Ay, but he must take care of her like the apple of his eye," replied O'Donnell; "for if any harm happen to her he will never forgive himself. He is a kind, good man--is he not?"
"As gallant a cavalier as ever lived," said Barecolt.
"And young?" demanded O'Donnell.
"Some seven or eight-and-twenty, I should guess," was the answer.
The master of the house mused.
"That may be fortunate or unfortunate, as it happens," he said at length; "at all events he ought to have intimation of what he is doing. Tell him that he shall hear more from me very shortly--as soon as possible--as soon as I can get leave: and now to speak of how to get her out of Hull."
"But will you not let me tell Lord Walton who she is?" demanded Barecolt.
"If Sergeant Neil has told him anything already--well," replied O'Donnell; "if not, he shall hear more soon; but at all events tell him to cherish and protect her as he would one of his own kindred; for if he do not, and have any more heart than a stone, he will repent it bitterly. No more on that head, master: now for your plans."
"Why, Master O'Donnell," replied Captain Barecolt, "my plans, like your secrets, are my own; and I do not tell them easily, especially when I get nothing in return."
"But you said you wished me to help you to get the young lady out of Hull," rejoined O'Donnell. "How am I to do so without knowing what you intend to do?"
"I will show you in a minute, Master O'Donnell," replied Barecolt. "What I need is horse flesh; and as far as I can see, very little of it is to be found in Hull. The governor walks afoot; the officers of the garrison, such as it is, trudge upon their own legs; and I have seen nothing with four feet but sundry cats, half-a-dozen dogs, and every now and then a fat horse in a coal-cart. I want beasts to carry us, Master O'Donnell; that is my need: and if you can find means to furnish us with them, I will contrive to get the young lady out."
"Oh, there are plenty of horses in Hull," answered O'Donnell; "but how did you come hither?"
"By sea," replied his companion; "but that matters not. If you can bring or send three good horses, one with a woman's saddle, to the first village on the road to York--I forget the name of the place--you will do me a service, aid poor Arrah Neil, and be well paid for your pains."
"To Newlands, you mean," said O'Donnell; "but Newlands is a long way for you to go on foot. 'Tis more than two miles, and if you are caught you are lost. Stay--there is a little low ale-house by the green side, just a mile from the town gates. The horses shall be there; but at what time?"
"Some time before daybreak to-morrow," replied Barecolt; "for as soon as I see the first ray of the sun, I am off with my companions."
"Have you more than one?" demanded the Irishman.
"The lady--and a gentleman, a friend of mine," answered the worthy captain; "otherwise I should not have wanted three horses."
"But how will you pass the gates?" inquired the other; "they are very strict at that side, for they fear enterprises from York."
"There's my key," replied Barecolt, producing the governor's pass; "but, for fear it should not fit the lock, Master O'Donnell, I shall try it five or six times before nightfall. What I mean is, that I will go out and in several times, that the people may know my face."
His companion gazed at the pass, and then at Captain Barecolt for several moments, wondering not a little what might be the real character of his visiter, and what were the means by which he had contrived to obtain the document which he spread before him. There it was, however, not to be doubted--a genuine order under Sir John Hotham's own hand, for the sentries, guards, warders, and officers of all kinds of the town of Hull, to give free passage, at any hour between daybreak and nightfall, to Captain François Jersval, and the workmen employed by him to inspect and repair the fortifications of the city, and to offer him no let or hindrance, but rather afford him every aid and assistance.
"And now, Master O'Donnell," continued Barecolt, observing with a certain degree of pride that he had succeeded in puzzling his companion, "let us speak about the price of these horses."
"That I cannot tell till I buy them," replied O'Donnell, "but I shall see you to-night at the 'Swan,' and we can settle that matter then."
"Perhaps I shall be out," answered Barecolt, recollecting his engagement with Hazard and Falgate.
"Well, then, I will wait till you return," replied O'Donnell; "but in the mean time I must get the horses out before the gates close to-night. To what price would you like to go for the two?"
"I said three, Master O'Donnell," exclaimed Barecolt; "pray, do not be short of the number."
"No, no," replied the other; "there shall be three; but I will pay for the young lady's horse. I have money in hand that should have gone to poor old Neil; but when I wrote about it he did not answer."
"Dead men seldom do," said Barecolt; "but as to the price--there is no use of buying anything very beautiful for me. My own chargers are of the finest breed in Europe, between a Turkish courser and a powerful Norman mare; but as I don't want these horses that I now bespeak for battle, all that is needful will be to see that they be good strong beasts, willing to work for a day or two. But one thing that is to be remembered, Mr. O'Donnell, is, that if you do come up to the 'Swan' seeking me, you are only to know me as 'de Capitaine Jersval, one French officier, who be come to help de governeur to put de fortification in de repair.'"
"And pray, sir, what is your real name?" asked O'Donnell, with an air of simplicity.
"What is Arrah Neil's?" rejoined Barecolt; and, both laughing, they separated for the time, without affording each other any further information.
Poor Arrah Neil had passed an anxious and uneasy day, for, though the knowledge that she had a friend so near, ready to aid her in her escape, had proved no slight consolation, and though hope, of course, magnified Captain Barecolt's powers, and elevated his qualities far beyond their real extent, yet suspense is always full of terrors, and Fear usually treads close upon the steps of Hope. Ezekiel Dry had also suffered all those blessed results which intemperance is sure to entail; and having lain in his bed for several hours after the whole town was up and stirring, with sick stomach and aching head, he rose, declaring that something he had eaten at dinner had disagreed with him, and that he must have a small portion of strong waters to promote digestion. He was as morose, too, through the whole day, as a sick tiger, and would not stir beyond the doors till after he had dined. He was angry with the maid, rude to the landlady, assuring her that she was "a vessel of wrath;" and above all, irritable and even fierce with Arrah Neil.
Though it is probable that he had no cause of any kind for suspicion, yet his mind was in that state of sullen discontent from bodily suffering that gives rise to incessant jealousy. He prowled about the door of her room; sent for her twice down to the little parlour, between breakfast and dinner; looked out whenever he heard a door open; and twice stopped Mrs. White when she was going upstairs, upon the pretence of asking some question. The last time this occurred, his inquiry once more was after Mr. Hugh O'Donnell.
"Really, sir, I have not been able to hear," replied Mrs. White; "but I dare say the governor, Sir John, could tell you."
"That will not do, woman," replied Mr. Dry, pettishly: "I only seek to hold communion with the godly of the land. How can I tell that Sir John Hotham is any better than an uncircumcised Philistine? Though he have taken a part with the righteous in behalf of this poor country, peradventure it may be but with an eye to the spoil."
"Goodness, sir! think of what you are saying in Hull!" exclaimed Mrs. White, giving a glance to some of the bystanders: "you may get yourself into trouble if you speak so of the governor."
"Nay, woman; am I not called to lift up my voice and spare not?" rejoined Mr. Dry. "Is this a time for showing a respect to persons? Verily, I will take up a word against them."
"Well, then, I am sure I will not stay to hear it," replied the landlady; and away she went, leaving Mr. Dry to finish his exhortation to the maid, the ostler, and two townsmen, if he chose.
Shortly after, however, the dinner of the guest was served up to him, and gradually, under its influence, he was restored to a more placable state of mind, having sought the aid of sundry somewhat potent libations, which he termed supporting the inner man, but which Mrs. White denominated taking "a hair of the dog that had bit him."
As soon as he had satisfied both hunger and thirst, Mr. Dry took Arrah Neil back to her chamber again, and having locked the door, and sought his hat and cloak in his own room, he walked slowly down the stairs, resolved to pursue his perquisitions for Mr. Hugh O'Donnell in person; but, before he reached the door of the "Swan," his tranquillity was much overset by the entrance of a bold, swaggering, joyous-looking person, whose very cheerfulness of face was offensive in the sight of the sour and sober Mr. Dry. He looked at him, then, with a glance of amazement and reprobation, and then, while our good friend Diggory Falgate brushed past, raised his eyes towards heaven, as if inquiring whether such things as a blithe heart and cheerful countenance could be tolerated on earth.
Falgate immediately caught the look, and, as it unfortunately happened for Mr. Dry, recollected in him a personage whom he had seen in no very respectable plight in the streets of Hull the night before. He instantly paused, then, and bursting into a laugh, began to sing the well-known old words--older than they are generally supposed to be--
My wife Joan's a Presbyterian;She won't swear, but she will lie;I to the ale-home, she to the tavern;She'll get drunk as well as I.
My wife Joan's a Presbyterian;
She won't swear, but she will lie;
I to the ale-home, she to the tavern;
She'll get drunk as well as I.
.
and, ending with another laugh, he walked on to Mrs. White's little room.
The wrath of Mr. Dry, of Longsoaken, was overpowering; but it could not find vent in words, and after once more lifting up his eyes, and his hands also, he hurried out of the house, resolved that, if he staid beyond the following day in Hull, he would quit an inn where such godless people were permitted to pass the door.
We will not pursue him on his track through the town, but return to poor Arrah Neil, whose day, as we have said, had passed in anxiety and pain; and who now sat with her hand beating time upon the table to some fancied tune, as the sun sank lower and lower, and the hues of evening began to spread over the sky.
As she thus sat, she saw Mr. Dry walk away from the door, cross over the street, and enter a house opposite. He turned before he went in, and looked up at the windows of the "Swan," but Arrah Neil was in one of those meditative moods, when the spirit seems to be separate from the body, or scarcely conscious of a connection between the two. She saw the man she so much hated and despised gaze up to where she was sitting; but in thinking of him and his baseness, of the power he had obtained over her, of his perseverance in maintaining that power, of how she could escape from him, and whither he could now be going--she seemed to forget altogether that it was upon her his eyes were turned, and, without moving her place, she remained watching him as if he were a mere piece of mechanism, whose springs and whose wheels were worthy of observation, but incapable of observation in return.
It was the best course she could have pursued, though she did so unconsciously; for, after Mr. Dry had been a minute or two in the house which he entered, he came out again, and seeing her still sitting there immoveable, with her eyes fixed upon the same spot, he muttered, "The girl is a fool, that's clear!" and went on about his business.
Other eyes had been watching him as well as those of Arrah Neil, and before he had actually quitted the street the step of Mrs. White was heard upon the stairs. But ere the good landlady could reach the top, the voice of Nancy from below, exclaimed, "Here's a gentleman, ma'am, wants to speak to you!"
Arrah waited for a moment or two, in the hope that the new guest would depart, and that the hostess would pay her her accustomed visit; for, in those moments of anxious expectation and suspense, she felt the presence of any sympathising human creature a benefit and a relief. But after a while, she turned to gaze from the window again, and murmured--for she did not sing--some lines of an old song which she had learned in her infancy. As she thus sat, she heard another step upon the stairs, slower and more heavy than that of the landlady, and without giving it a second thought, she returned to sport with her own fancies, when a key was put into the lock and the door opened.
Arrah Neil started and turned round, and not a little was her surprise to see a tall, powerful, elderly man, with white hair, and deep blue eyes, the lashes of which, as well as the eyebrows, were still black, enter her chamber, fasten the door behind him, and advance towards her. She was a little frightened, and would have been more so, but there was a kindly and gentle air in the visiter's countenance which was not calculated to produce alarm; and as he came nearer, he said, "I beg your pardon, young lady, but I much wished to see you. I have not seen you for many a long year, not since you were quite a little thing."
"Then you knew me in my childhood, sir!" exclaimed Arrah, eagerly, "and----"
"You may well say that, lady," replied Hugh O'Donnell, before she could proceed. "These arms were the first that received you when you set foot upon this shore. Oh! a sorrowful landing it was, and sorrowful was the fate that followed, and sorrowful were the days that went before; and there has been little but sorrow since. But good luck to-morrow, it may bring something brighter, and the sky won't be overcast for ever, that's impossible."
"Then you are the Mr. O'Donnell of whom Mrs. White has told me." said Arrah. "Oh, sir! I beseech you, tell me more about myself and my kindred. Whosoever's child I am, let me know it. If a peasant's, say so without fear. I would rather cast away the vain but bright dreams that have haunted me so long, and fix my best affections on the memory of some good plain people, than have this wild doubt and uncertainty any longer. Tell me--tell me anything, if it be not disgraceful to the living or the dead."
"Disgraceful!" cried Hugh O'Donnell; "I should like to hear any man say that! No, no; there's nothing disgraceful, my darling; but I cannot and I must not tell you all that I could wish, young lady--not just at present, that is to say. By-and-by you will hear all."
"And in the mean time what misfortunes may befal me!" said Arrah Neil, in an earnest tone; "what misfortunes have already befallen me, which perhaps might have been averted!"
"Why, that is true, too," replied O'Donnell, after a moment's thought; "and yet it could not be helped. What to do now I cannot rightly tell; for, from what the good woman below says, old Neil, when he was dying, wished you to know all."
"I am sure he did," answered the poor girl; "but they had swept the cottage of everything, and I much fear that the papers he wished me to have fell into the hands of this old man."
"Ay, you must be got out of his clutches; that's the first thing," said O'Donnell. "On my life! if there were anything like law in the land, we would make him prove before the justices what right he has to meddle with you. His ward indeed! But, alas! young lady, there is neither law nor justice left in England, and the simple word of that crop-eared knave would weigh down a host of what they call malignants. The only way to follow is, for you to get away secretly, and put yourself under the care of those who have already been kind to you. You are very willing to go back to Lord Walton and his sister, I suppose?"
"Oh, that I am!" exclaimed Arrah Neil, with the warm colour mounting in her fair cheek; but the next moment she cast her eyes thoughtfully down, and murmured, "And yet, and yet----"
"Yet what, young lady?" asked O'Donnell, seeing that she did not conclude the sentence.
"Nothing," replied Arrah Neil: "'tis but a vain regret. When I was in poverty and beggary they were generous and kind to me; and at times when I schooled myself to think that such must have been my original situation, notwithstanding the idle dreams of brighter days that came back to trouble me, I used to fancy that I could be well content to be their lowest servant, so that I might follow and be with them always. But since I came hither, and the memories of the past grew clear, and the mistress of this house confirmed them, I have been thinking that, perhaps, before I returned to those two kind and noble friends, I might learn all my own fate and history, and be able to tell them that, when they condescended to notice and protect a being so lowly and humble as I was when they found me, they were unknowingly showing a kindness to one not so far inferior in blood to themselves as they imagined."
"And, by the Lord, you shall be able to tell them so!" replied O'Donnell; "for, proud as they may be, I can tell them----"
"Oh, no!" said Arrah, interrupting him: "they are not proud; neither was it from any pride that I wished to tell them that poor Arrah Neil was not the lowly being they had thought; for they were so gentle and so kind, that dependence on them was sweet; but I wished them to understand how it was and why that I have been so strange and wild at times--so thoughtful. And yet there may have been pride," she added, after a moment's pause, fixing her eyes upon the ground, and speaking as if to herself. "I would not have him think me so low, so very low. But you said I should be able to tell them. Speak, speak! let me hear what it is."
"Well, then," replied Hugh O'Donnell, "you may tell them there is----"
But ere he could go on, Mrs. White ran into the room, exclaiming, "He is coming! he is coming! Nancy sees him at the end of the street. Quick! quick! Master O'Donnell!"
"Oh! speak, speak!" cried Arrah.
"I will see you again, dear lady," cried O'Donnell, quickly; "I will come with the horses myself. But in the meantime this money belongs to you; it may be needful; it may be serviceable; do not let him see it;" and, laying a small leathern purse on the table, he hurried towards the door. Before he quitted the room, however, he turned, and seeing the poor girl's beautiful eyes filled with tears, he added, "Do not be afraid; I will see you again before this time to-morrow."
The landlady of the "Swan" and her visiter hurried down to the little parlour, but, as so often happens when people are taken by surprise, they made more haste than was necessary; for, whether Mr. Dry of Longsoaken met with something to detain him, or whether he walked slowly as he came down the street, he did not make his appearance on the steps leading up to the inn for several minutes after they had descended.
"I will speak with this man, Mistress White," said O'Donnel, after a moment's thought. "Tell him that I have come to see him, that you sent for me by some one who knew where to find me."
"Are you sure that is a good plan?" asked the landlady. "We want time to get the young lady away."
"Never fear! never fear!" replied her companion. "I will keep him in play for a week, if need be."
"Well, well," said Mrs. White; and while O'Donnell took a seat and leaned his cheek upon his arm as if waiting patiently for some one's coming, the good landlady bustled about, making a noise amongst bottles and measures with as unconcerned an air as she could assume.
The next minute Mr. Dry walked solemnly up the four steps which led from the street to a little flat landing-place of stone, encircled with an iron railing, which lay without the door; and as soon as he thus became apparent, Mrs. White ran out of her parlour, exclaiming, "Sir, Sir! the gentleman you wished to see is come. The man who brings the eggs called a few minutes ago, and as he knew where to find him, I bade him tell Mr. O'Donnell to come and see you."
"That was right! that was right!" cried Mr. Dry, his small red eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "Where is he, Mrs. White?"
"Here, sir, in the bar," answered the landlady; and with a slow and solemn step, calculating how he was to proceed, and smoothing his face down to his usual gravity, Mr. Dry walked deliberately into the little room where Hugh O'Donnell was seated.
"Here is Master Dry, sir," said the hostess, opening the door for him, but Mr. Dry waved his hand pompously for silence, and then considered Mr. O'Donnell attentively.
"This good lady tells me you wish to speak with me, sir," said O'Donnell, after giving the new-comer quite sufficient time to inspect his countenance; "pray what may be your business with me?"
"It is of a private nature, Master O'Donnell," replied Mr. Dry, "and may perhaps be better explained at your own house than here, if you will tell me where that is."
O'Donnell smiled and shook his head. "I am not fond of private business at my own house, sir," he answered drily. "These are suspicious times; people will be for calling me a malignant or something of that kind. I am a plain man, sir; an honest, open merchant, and not fond of secrets. If you have anything to say, I can hear it here."
"Well, then, come into this neighbouring room, my good friend," replied Dry; "to that you can have no objection; and as to being charged with malignancy, methinks the conversation of Ezekiel Dry of Longsoaken would never bring such an accusation upon any man's head."
"I beg your pardon, sir; I did not know you," replied O'Donnell, following towards the little room where Mr. Dry had dined after his first arrival. "I have heard of you from the people of Bishop's Merton, whom I occasionally supply with dry beef and neats' tongues from Hamburgh."
"Pray be seated, Master O'Donnell," said Mr. Dry closing the door carefully after they had entered; and then, taking a chair opposite to his companion, he went on to speak as follows, interrupting his discourse with sundry hems and haws, which gave him time both to think of what he was next to say, and to examine the countenance of O'Donnell as he proceeded.
"You must know, Mr. O'Donnell," he said, "that, after the death of a certain old man--a clear and undoubted malignant--named Sergeant Neil--hum!--with whom I think you have had a good deal to do--ha!"
"Very little, sir," replied O'Donnell, as he paused: "I had to pay him some money every year sent to me by my correspondents beyond sea. I should think the man was somewhat of a malignant from some of his letters on the receipt."
"Verily was he, and a most ferocious one too," replied Mr. Dry; "but after the death of this person, I, with the consent and appointment of the authorities--hum!--took upon me the care and protection of the girl supposed to be his grand-daughter--hum!--his grand-daughter, as she was called--I say, Master O'Donnell--ha!"
"Very kind of you indeed, sir," answered O'Donnell--"especially as old Neil could not die rich."
"As poor as a rat," replied Mr. Dry, emphatically. "Pray what was it you paid him per annum, Master O'Donnell?"
"About fifty pounds a-year, as far as I recollect," said O'Donnell; "but I cannot tell till I look in my books."
"That was but a small sum," rejoined Dry, "for taking care of this girl, when her family are so wealthy and the estates so great--ha!"
"Are they, sir?" asked O'Donnell in an indifferent tone, "Pray, whereabouts do they lie?"
"Come, come, Master O'Donnell," said Mr. Dry, with a significant nod; "you know more than you pretend to know--hum! We have found letters and papers--hum!--which show that you have full information--ha!--and it is necessary that you should speak openly with me--hum! Do you understand me?--ha!"
"Oh! I understand quite well, sir," replied O'Donnell, not in the least discomposed: "my letters were all upon business. I sent the money--I announced the sending--I asked for my receipts; and, whenever there was a word or two sent over for us to forward, such as, 'All is well,' 'Things going on better,' or anything of that sort, I wrote them down just as I received them, without troubling my head about what they referred to."
Mr. Dry was somewhat puzzled how to proceed--whether to take the high and domineering tone that he had often found very successful at Bishop's Merton, or to cajole and bribe, as he had had occasion to do at other times; but, after a little reflection, he determined that the latter would be the best course at first, as he could always have recourse to the former, which, if employed too soon and without due caution, might lead to more publicity than was at all desirable.
"Now listen to me, Master O'Donnell," he said at length: "you are a wise man and prudent, not to confide your secrets to strangers, but it is of vast importance that the true rank, station, fortune, family, and connections of this young woman should be clearly ascertained; and though, perhaps, you may not like to say at once, 'I know this,' or 'I know that,' yet I ask you, can you not secretly and quietly, get me information upon all these matters, if I make it worth your while to take the trouble--well worth your while--very well worth your while?"
"That is another matter," answered O'Donnell; "quite another matter, sir; but the question is, what would make it worth my while? I'm a merchant, sir; and we must make it a matter of trade."
Mr. Dry pondered; but, before he could answer, Mr. O'Donnell added, "Come, Master Dry; let me hear distinctly what it is you want to know, and then I can better judge how much it is worth."
"That I will tell you immediately," rejoined Mr. Dry, feeling in his pocket; and at length drawing forth the bundle of papers which Captain Barecolt had examined the night before, he began to read. "'Habakkuk ii. 5. Yea, also, because he transgresseth by wine'--no, that is not it; and, besides, it was not wine but strong waters. Ah! here it is;" and he proceeded to address to his companion the series of questions which the worthy captain above-named had warned Mr. O'Donnell would be propounded to him.
"A goodly list!" said the Irishman, in a tone that Mr. Dry did not think very promising; but he went on immediately to add: "Well, I think all this information I could obtain if it were made worth my while, and a great deal more too; but you see, Mr. Dry, this is purely a mercantile transaction: you come to me for information as for goods."
"Certainly, certainly," replied he of Longsoaken; "It is all a matter of trade."
"Well, then," continued O'Donnell, "I must know to what market you intend to take the goods."
"I do not understand," said Mr. Dry.
"I'll I'll explain it to you in a moment," replied the other; "I mean, what is your object? If it should be shown that the girl is different from what she seems--if fair and probable prospects of money and such good things should spring up--what do you intend to do with her?"
"That is a question I have not yet considered with due deliberation and counsel," replied Mr. Dry.
"But it is one well worth consideration," answered his companion. "In a word, Master Dry, do you intend to put the girl and her property under the protection, as it is called, of the law, or to give her another protector--your son, or yourself perhaps?"
"What if I say to put her under the protection of the law?"
"Then I say you're a great goose for your pains," replied O'Donnell, rising; "and I'm afraid we can't deal. The law is a bad paymaster, and does not make it worth men's while to do it service, or take trouble for it, and this would cost me a great deal of pains and work. Now, if you had made up your mind to marry her quietly and secretly to your son, or any near relation, it would be a different affair, and you would not mind giving a good per-centage."
"I have no son--I have no relations," replied Dry, somewhat pettishly; "but I shall not mind giving a good per-centage notwithstanding."
"Then of course you intend to marry her yourself," said O'Donnell. "Well, that being the case, I will go home and consider between this and this hour to-morrow what I will take. I must make my calculations, for I am a man of my word, and like to know exactly what a thing is worth before I put a price upon it; but by this time to-morrow I will tell you; so good-morning, Mr. Dry: it is getting late."
"But where shall I find you? where shall I find you?" asked Mr. Dry, as the other moved towards the door.
"Oh, Mrs. White will send a boy with you," replied O'Donnell; "she knows where it is now: good afternoon;" and issuing forth, he spoke a word or two to the landlady, and then quitted the house, murmuring, "The old snake! I know them, those canting vipers--I know them!"