Morrison threw his arms round her, and kissed her cheek.
"I have done you wrong, Hannah," he said, "I have done you wrong--I want no confirmation of your story but your own word. I believe you fully, and I beg your pardon for ever having doubted you."
"You-may have confirmation enough, Master Morrison," said Hailes, "for I heard that young scoundrel acknowledge the whole of the story, just before he----"
Charles Tyrrell held up his finger, quickly exclaiming, "Hush!" and Hailes remembering that neither Hannah herself--nor Lucy--nor the maid, were acquainted with the facts to which he was about to allude, paused abruptly, only adding, "well I heard him acknowledge it, every word, that's enough, and so did Captain Longly."
"And I heard a portion of it, though not the whole," said Charles Tyrrell, "from the officer of the cutter, who told me that if it had not been for his interposition, that young scoundrel would have forced her down to the boat."
"And I," added Hannah, "can produce the letter which he wrote to me, if you are at all incredulous, Everard, a letter that he dare not deny."
"He'll not deny or acknowledge anything more," muttered Hailes to himself; and Everard replied,
"I am not at all incredulous, dear Hannah, I believe every word you speak, and I will try to make amends for ever having doubted you."
There now came a momentary pause, and Hailes looked at Charles Tyrrell, saying--
"I think we had better be getting under weigh, sir. We have lost a good deal of time, and the ship is lying to for you."
As he spoke, the poor fellow turned his eyes upon his children, the one still sleeping on the bed, the other as much awake as ever; and then, going into the inner room, to kiss the infant that was in its cradle, he came out with his eyes somewhat red. He then stooped down and spoke a few words in a low tone to his eldest boy, kissed his forehead, and prayed God to bless him.
The boy, who seemed to understand it all, was drowned in tears; but he spoke calmly to his father, saying:--
"I would rather have gone with you, father; but if I can help my mother, of course I will stay."
"Who's to take care of the others, Jem," said his father, "till your mother comes back? Look to them well, Jem, and be a good boy; and I'll very soon come back to you, or you shall come to me. Now stay here every one, while I and Mr., that is Sir Charles Tyrrell, go and get the boat fully afloat."
Charles accompanied him at once. The moon had gone down when they issued forth upon the beach; the sun had not risen, and though there were some slight gray streaks upon the horizon's edge toward the east, the world was all in darkness; for a haze prevented even the stars from being seen, so that it was in vain Charles and his companion gazed out on either side along the beach, to ascertain if it were now solitary. They found the boat very nearly afloat, and seeing that a slight effort was all that was required to launch it into the waves, they returned immediately for Lucy and the maid.
The small packages which they had brought with them, with some different articles of dress belonging to Charles Tyrrell, which Everard Morrison had had the forethought to prepare and send to the cottage, were first brought down and thrown into the boat, and then pressing Morrison's hand Charles Tyrrell bade him good-by, and left him to escort Hannah at once to her own home, without waiting at the cottage, lest the departure of the boat should attract attention, and the cottage be searched.
Lucy had been very much agitated in parting with her mother; but, perhaps, the most agitating moment of all had now arrived, when she had to quit her native land, to bid adieu to every former scene and association--to break the tie between herself and all that she had loved and cherished in the former portion of her existence; to begin a new and unknown state of being, with clouds of the darkest hue and most threatening character in every part of the sky. Though she did not weep, she trembled violently as Charles Tyrrell led her down to the beach.
Her maid was very much agitated, too; but the woman was blessed with one of those minds which have the consolation of trifles, and a packet missing, for which she had to run back to the cottage, was an inestimable benefit to her.
When they reached the margin of the sea, Charles took Lucy in his arms like a child, and carried her through the water to the boat. Hailes performed the same office for the maid, and then the good fisherman lingered for a moment, once more to kiss and call a blessing on his boy.
But a sound that he heard upon the beach caused him to cut his farewell short. It was that of a quick step coming along the shingles and the form of a man was clearly discerned, running with all speed toward them. The fisherman run into the water to the boat as fast as possible, and he and Charles Tyrrell using their united strength to push her off, she was afloat in a moment. The boy had run back to the cottage, but the man who had been seen approaching came up at full speed, shouting:--
"Boat, ahoy! boat, ahoy! I want to go off to the ship."
"Perhaps he really does," said Charles Tyrrell.
"Push off, push off," said Hailes in a low voice, and with an agitated manner; but, then immediately shouted in a louder tone, "I will take you when I come back again;" but still, while the boat got rapidly out to sea, he looked back toward the shore, and then much to the surprise of Charles Tyrrell, said, "He's not coming--he's not coming!"
"He's not coming!" echoed Charles Tyrrell. "What do you mean, Hailes? he would be drowned."
Hailes made no answer, and Charles Tyrrell applied himself to comfort and support his fair Lucy. Agitation, terror, and sorrow had by this time completely overpowered her, and while Charles supported her with his arm, and held her hand in his, she leaned her head upon his bosom, and for several minutes indulged in silent tears. The sea, however, was by no means rough; the gray of the morning was changing into purple; the haze which had obscured the sky cleared away, and a bright star was seen walking in beauty before the coming sun.
"Look, dear Lucy, look!" said Charles Tyrrell, pointing to the star on which she turned her dewy eyes at his bidding, "surely that is hope."
The sun had risen high, the day was bright and beautiful; the green sea was just curled by a light breeze, and the schooner (of which by the way, Captain Longly was undoubtedly a principal owner) skimmed quickly but easily over the waters. Having no nautical knowledge, we shall leave all the particulars of the sailing of the ship to the imagination of our readers, which, in all probability, will do much more for it than anything that we could do, and confine our attention solely to the persons in whose fate we have already endeavoured to interest the world.
Charles Tyrrell and Lucy had been received by the master of the schooner with every sort of bluff attention and respect. A high price had been agreed upon for their passage--a strong recommendation had come from the much reverenced Captain Longly, and Lucy and her lover now sat together near the side of the vessel, while the maid down stairs, with a predetermination of being sick, was indulging her fancy in that respect, and good John Hailes walked up and down the deck as a passenger, and for the first time in his life, perhaps, turned his eyes to the receding shores of his native land with grief, regret, and hopelessness.
When they had thus gone on some way, and their escape seemed perfectly certain, Charles Tyrrell beckoned Hailes toward him, and spoke to him for a moment in a low voice. The man replied aloud:--
"Oh! yes, yes, sir, certainly. God bless you, sir, we are too grateful to you a great deal, for having hidden the matter for such a time, at the risk of your own life, to wish you to hide it any longer. Both I and Captain Longly told Master Morrison to say, you might do just as you pleased, but I'm sure my young lady here ought to know. I wonder you did not tell her before."
"I had taken the resolution," replied Charles Tyrrell, "not to tell anybody one word till either I was out of England, or you and Longly were. But, however, I may tell her now without any breach of confidence."
He then resumed his seat by Lucy Effingham, and told her for the first time the history of his adventures on that day, when, after a violent dispute with his father, he left Sir Francis in the library and hurried away into the park, as we have before shown.
The tale is not very long, but it required various other little incidents to be mingled with it, and we shall not relate it therefore exactly in Charles Tyrrell's own words, but endeavour to abbreviate it as much as possible.
While lying ill at the cottage of Hailes, the fisherman, Charles Tyrrell had been as kindly tended by Hannah Longly, as by any other of the inhabitants of the fisherman's abode, and as he recovered, he heard from Hailes himself a considerable part of her history, which he instantly connected in his own mind with what the officer of the revenue-cutter had told him concerning Lieutenant Hargrave's attempt to carry her off. He found that she was, now an exile from the house of her father, whose indignation at her having listened for a moment to a spy, and an informer, as he termed young Hargrave, was so great, that he vowed she should never enter his doors again. Nothing was said respecting Everard Morrison; and Charles Tyrrell, believing that although Hannah might possibly have acted rather imprudently, she was not near so much to blame as to call upon her head so severe a punishment, determined to do what he could to reconcile Longly to his daughter, by telling him what he had heard of her conduct from the officer of the revenue-cutter.
As soon as he was well enough to ride out, he visited Longly's house several times, but found his undertaking much more difficult to accomplish than he had anticipated. Sometimes Longly could not be found, and at another time there was somebody else present; and even when Charles, at length, had an opportunity of speaking with him in private, he met with a far greater degree of stern and dogged resistance in the old sailor than he had expected.
From him, however, he learned two things somewhat important in their way--in the first place, that Lieutenant Hargrave had been hovering around that neighbourhood ever since the duel; which fact confirmed his suspicions, as to the quarter from whence his father, Sir Francis Tyrrell, had derived intelligence of an event which was unknown in Oxford; and in the second place, that on the very day previous to her meeting with young Hargrave, Hannah had received and accepted a proposal from his own friend Everard Morrison, with which her father had been highly delighted.
Captain Longly, however, now swore that he would not let her marry an honest man like Morrison, even if Everard himself were still inclined to take her, and there were mingled with Longly's speeches, in regard to him he called that Jackanapes Hargrave, dark hints of some purposes of revenge upon him, which somewhat alarmed Charles Tyrrell.
To interfere between Everard and Hannah, was a thing that Charles Tyrrell would never have dreamed of attempting, unless fully and entirely convinced that she had not behaved ill. But still he laboured hard to reconcile her to her father, feeling that the harshness of his conduct was likely to drive her to evil by despair.
He seemed to make some impression upon Longly at length, and ere he left him the day before the fatal catastrophe of the death of Sir Francis Tyrrell, the old Captain shook him heartily by the hand, and thanked him for what he had done.
"I'll tell you what, Mr. Tyrrell," he said, "I am going to send down to John Hailes', at whose house the girl is this afternoon, and I'll hear what Hailes says about the matter--so you see, I'm coming up close to the park to-morrow, about a little business, and if you'll meet me just at the park-stile, at half-past eleven o'clock, exactly--I'll tell you the last word of my mind, as you take an interest in the silly girl. Mind, don't be later than half-past eleven, for I've got business to settle in a quarter of an hour or so afterward, and must be off."
Charles Tyrrell promised; and as it struck him, that if Longly and his daughter could once be brought to meet again, they might easily be reconciled; he wrote a note to Hailes immediately, and sent it to his cottage, telling him of his wishes; informing him that Longly had promised to meet him at the park-stile, and begging him to bring Hannah Longly there, in the hope of reconciling her to her father.
Two things, however, prevented Hailes from following his direction; the first of which was, that Hailes himself could not read a word of the letter, and was obliged to apply to Hannah to read it for him; and she, terrified at her father's anger, refused to go without his knowledge.
The second was, that Hailes, that night, had a conversation with Longly himself, which precluded the possibility of his obeying. That conversation, though we certainly cannot do full justice to it, we shall attempt to give, at least in part, as it was somewhat curious and characteristic.
"Well, old John Hailes," said Longly, as soon as the other entered his abode, "I want you to lend a hand in a matter, to-morrow, that, mayhap, you never meddled with before in your life."
"What is it, Captain?" demanded Hailes; "anything that I can do to serve you, I'm sure I will, with all my heart and soul."
"Why, the matter is this, Hailes," said Longly, "I'll not live a minute longer than I can help, without having my revenge on that fellow Hargrave; and I'm resolved to have satisfaction like a gentleman. Why shouldn't I, as well as another, though I fought my own ship and he fought the king's, and d----d badly too, if all stories were true. However, I know well enough, that if I were to sit down, like another, and write him a note, saying, 'Mr. Longly's compliments to Lieutenant Hargrave, looks upon him as a scoundrel, and will be obliged to him, to give him satisfaction'--he'd shirk the business, and talk about his being a king's officer; so I just copied out what I saw in a newspaper, and sent him, saying, 'If Lieutenant Hargrave will be under the park-wall of Sir Francis Tyrrell's park, at twelve o'clock, tomorrow, precisely, he will hear of something to his advantage;' and I wrote down below, 'If he doesn't like coming alone, he can bring a friend with him.' I gave it to a shrewd boy to carry, and told him not to tell him who it came from; and the little rascal made up a story for himself, and told him it was a lady had given it to him. So he'll come, you may be sure, Hailes, and if once I get him under the park-wall, he shall have his choice of the pistols, and stand a long-shot, or I'll know the reason why. So I want you, John, to come and be a witness, and see that I do everything fair, and let him have his shot before I take mine."
Hailes agreed, very willingly, to go: for without attempting to define the idea in his own mind, of absolutely killing Lieutenant Hargrave, the good fisherman could not have conceived a more pleasurable excursion than one, the object of which was to punish a person whom he considered as a most odious villain.
The matter was all arranged, and Longly set out, to be at the park-stile, which was at some distance from the spot he had appointed for his meeting with Hargrave, in time to hold the conference he proposed with Charles Tyrrell.
That gentleman, as we have seen, was delayed some time by the dispute with his father, and some time longer by finding the door of the garden, through which he had intended to take his way, locked, and the key taken out, instead of being, as usual, wide open. When he arrived at the park-stile, then, he found nobody on the spot; but he heard some voices talking loudly, at some distance, and fearing that Hannah and her father had met, without any person present, who might have sufficient influence to bring about a reconciliation between them, he hastened on, as fast as possible, toward the spot from which the sounds appeared to come.
What was his surprise, when on arriving at the ground, he found Longly, with a pistol in one hand, insisting upon Lieutenant Hargrave taking the other, which he held out to him, and John Hailes standing by, with the pistol-case, an extraordinary and not very expert second. Hargrave was as pale as death, and as Charles came up, he heard him say:--
"Sir, your design is to murder me, I see it clearly--to murder me for doing my duty as a British officer, and giving information of a gang of smugglers, of which you are the head. You may commit the murder, if you will; but it shall be all upon your head; for I will not countenance it by taking the pistol. I have done my duty, and that is enough; and I must take the consequences."
"Come, come, Master Lieutenant, that won't do," replied Captain Longly. "What I demand satisfaction for, is for nothing to do with the smuggling, but for coming to my house and trying to seduce my daughter, and making her go away to meet you in the wood."
"I declare to Heaven," cried young Hargrave, "she's as innocent as you are."
"Ay, ay, innocent enough, I dare say," replied Longly; "if I thought she wasn't, I'd pitch her into the sea. But it's not for want of your trying to make her otherwise, and that's what I demand satisfaction for."
"You demand satisfaction?" cried Hargrave, his blood beginning to get up; "what right have you to ask for satisfaction of a king's officer? Oh, here is Mr. Tyrrell come, I suppose, to aid and abet in this business."
But Longly replied at once, without taking any notice of Charles Tyrrell for the moment--
"What right have I to demand satisfaction!" he said, looking for the time really dignified, "I'll tell you what right I have, Mr. Hargrave; first, I have fought the enemies of my country oftener and better than yourself; next, you have come, of your own goodwill, to dine at my table; you have borrowed money out of my purse; you have shaken my hand, and owned that I was a good friend to you; and if I was good enough to be your friend, when you behaved well, I am quite good enough to be your adversary, now that you have behaved ill; so you sha'n't slink off under your quality, like a lousy Dutch lugger under British colours. Mr. Tyrrell, you didn't come to your time; but I'll talk to you in a minute, after I've settled with this fellow."
"Longly, Longly, think what you are doing," said Charles Tyrrell, coming up closer, "you are very much in the wrong, depend upon it."
"Why, do you, too, mean to say that I am not as much entitled to satisfaction as any gentleman among you all?" demanded Longly. "I'll tell you what, Mr. Tyrrell----"
But Charles Tyrrell interrupted him.
"I do not mean to say that you have no right. If we have a title to make fools of ourselves at all, I'm sure I do not see why one person should not do it, as well as another; but the matter is this, Longly: here, in the case of Mr. Hargrave, you have two offences mingled up together, and you never can separate them, either in your mind, or in the eye of the law. He, I understand, informed against you, in regard to some matter of smuggling, which has not been proved, and though he may have behaved very ill in other respects, yet depend upon it, it will always be considered that you sought revenge for that offence, and if you shoot him, you'll be hung, to a certainty."
"I don't care a ----," replied Longly, "I say it's about his conduct to my daughter, that I've brought him here, and he shall fight me, or I, and John Hailes here, will turn him round, and kick him from this spot to the town, and all down the High street, which will be a pleasant thing, won't it, for one of the king's officers, as he calls himself, so you may stay and see if you like it, for what I've said I'll do."
"Oh, I shall certainly not stay a moment longer," replied Charles Tyrrell, "I cannot prevent you; but I have warned you how wrong you are;" and turning on his heel, he walked back toward the stile, over which he had come, just as Lieutenant Hargrave, who was growing angry, was chiming in with a reply not at all likely to soothe the indignation of the other.
Before Charles Tyrrell had gone a hundred yards, however, he heard some one exclaim, "Make ready! present! fire!" which was instantly followed by the discharge of a pistol. He could not resist the temptation to turn round and look, and he beheld Longly and his adversary, standing at the distance of about twelve yards from each other. A pistol was in Lieutenant Hargrave's hand, and his arm dropped by his side as if he had just discharged it. At the same time Longly's arm was extended, and at the very moment that Charles Tyrrell turned round, there came a flash from the pistol, a quick report, and Lieutenant Hargrave staggered, fell upon his knee, struggled up again, and then fell back at full length upon the ground.
Charles immediately ran up, and joined Longly and Hailes, who had gathered round the body. The unfortunate young man drew one or two convulsive gasps after Charles Tyrrell arrived, but he uttered not a word, and though he once or twice opened his eyes, it was evidently with no consciousness of anything that surrounded him. In a moment after, he gave a sharp shudder, the small remains of colour in his once florid countenance was succeeded by an awful ashy paleness, and though it was afterward found as we have seen from Hailes's account, that he revived twice before the spirit finally departed, Charles Tyrrell and his companions were fully convinced that he was dead at that very time.
They all gazed on him for a moment as he lay stretched upon the grass, and then Longly turned to the young gentleman saying:--
"Now, Mr. Tyrrell, if you think as you did just now, you have nothing to do but to go and send down people to take us up. As for any wrong I've done, my heart's at rest; I've given him the first shot at myself, and if he was such a fool and such a coward as not to be able to hit such a great grampus as I am, that's not my fault. But he's had fair play and a good distance, and so help me God, when I come to lie like him, as I have thought of nothing throughout this morning, but his shameful conduct to my poor motherless girl; so now go if you will and send down constables for us, for if I'm to be hanged, I've had something for it at least."
"No, no, Longly," replied Charles Tyrrell, holding out his hand to him, "I will betray no man, and give you my honour, unless I am put upon my oath against you, will never say one word of what I have seen this day. I am sorry for you, Longly, for I fear the time will come that you will bitterly repent what you have done."
"Not I, not I!" replied Longly, "I have done nothing but what's right, and what he well deserved; but I always knew you were a gentleman and a man of honour, Mr. Tyrrell, and I'm very much obliged to you, for you see if you hold your tongue, nobody need know anything about this business. There's a man here, living not many hundred yards off, in whom I can trust, and if we can but get the body there without being caught, we can stow it away, and nothing more be said about it."
A slight shudder came over Charles Tyrrell's frame, and he replied:--
"With that, of course, I can have nothing to do, Longly, but in everything else you may depend upon me. I will in no degree betray you, for I feel for you, even though I think you are wrong."
"No, no;" replied Longly, "of course you can have nothing to do with the business, so the sooner you are gone the better. God bless you, sir, and make you happy."
And without reply, Charles Tyrrell turned once more, and hurrying along under the park-wall, re-entered the domain, not by the stile at which he was to have met Longly, but by that which led to the end of the lady-walk.
With his mind filled with painful images from what he had seen, he returned to the house and traversed the library, as we have before seen without speaking to Mr. Driesen, or, indeed, holding communication with any one, till he had entered his own room and locked the door, that he might have a few minutes to calm his mind, and think, without interruption, over what had occurred.
He had remained there for some time, before he perceived that in raising up the head and shoulders of the unhappy young man, whom he had just seen slain, both his hands and shooting-jacket had been stained with blood, and though he did not think it necessary to take any means of removing the spots from the shooting-jacket, he washed his hands with a feeling of horror and disgust at finding them dabbled all over with human gore.
He had scarcely finished, when Mr. Driesen knocked at his door, and feeling himself perfectly innocent, he opened it without hesitation.
Of the affair between Longly and young Hargrave he heard no more, till he himself became the tenant of a prison. But the news of what had occurred at Harbury park spread through the country, and was bruited in all the newspapers.
Before two days were over, Longly found that Charles had suffered a verdict of "Wilful murder" to be returned against him, and had allowed himself to be carried to prison, rather than declare where he had spent that time, which he, Longly, himself could but too well account for; and, moreover, that his hands and coat had appeared stained with blood, which he, Longly, himself had shed.
As soon as this was known to him, he sent off for young Morrison, and the result we have already seen.
Such was the tale that Charles Tyrrell had to tell to Lucy Effingham, as she sat beside him on the deck of the vessel; and in telling it, though he softened some of the circumstances as far as possible, and entered into none of the minute details which had pained and horrified himself, he told her enough to agitate her by very different emotions; by joy and satisfaction to find that there existed a power of proving his innocence beyond all doubt, yet mingled with horror and dismay by his account of scenes, into the passions producing which, a gentle woman's heart could but feebly enter.
The morning passed over brightly and tranquilly, the sea was calm, the sky, with the exception of a few faint gray streaks scattered about it in different directions, was quite clear, the wind favourable, though not full, and nothing was seen over the face of the ocean, but a few scattering fishing boats, and the distant gleam of white sails making their way to various points upon the horizon. There was a quietness in the scene, a peaceful mildness in the aspect of the treacherous sea, which brought a calm to the bosom of Lucy Effingham and Charles Tyrrell. They felt as if the time which had passed before, had been a period of turmoil and vexation, of grief, care, and anguish, and as if now had begun another state, as if this was the first day of a tranquil existence.
Toward three o'clock, however, not exactly to windward, but somewhat more to the southeast, the blue of the sky which had extended at first clear and distinct from the zenith to the horizon, began to change to a sort of lead colour, as it approached the verge of the sea.
As the time went on, it grew deeper and deeper in hue, not separate, and defined from the rest of the sky, but blending into the blue as it approached the zenith, yet at the height of a few degrees above the waves presenting the colour of a dark cloud. Across this, too, there began to appear small detached masses of a cloud of a different colour, a whitish or silvery gray, and Hailes and the captain, who had passed the greater part of the day in walking up and down the deck, side by side, paused and looked out in that direction several times, commenting on what they saw with laconic briefness.
Another object, however, soon after attracted their attention, which was a vessel right to windward, with all sails set, and coming up apparently with a much stronger breeze than they themselves possessed. The captain of the ship watched the coming vessel for a minute or two through his telescope, and then handed it to Hailes, who watched her accurately, also, for some time, and then replied to something that the master had said to him, "Yes, she is," and added a very unnecessary oath.
The captain again took the glass, and after having resumed his examination for some time he turned round and gave orders for making more sail. These orders were promptly obeyed, and ere they had been executed long the wind began to freshen. The sea at the same time became somewhat rougher, and the schooner cut through the water with far greater rapidity.
Charles Tyrrell began to be a little apprehensive, judging, from what he remarked, that the captain found greater reason to hurry his voyage, than he had at first anticipated. Leaving Lucy for a moment, he approached Hailes, and asked him in a low tone, what vessel that was they had been looking at.
"She is the revenue-cutter," said Hailes; "at least I think so, by the cut of her sails."
"Is there any chance of their coming up with us?" demanded Charles Tyrrell.
"Oh, bless you, no, sir," replied he. "As for sailing, we'll out-sail any cutter in the service; but I have heard say, that she'll go nearer to the wind, than any vessel that ever was seen, and you see it's looking a little dirty to the southeast."
Charles returned to Lucy, not more at ease than before; but she seemed to have no idea of danger and, feeling no sickness, enjoyed the sight of the waves dashing past the schooner's sides, as she cut her way straight through the midst of them. Charles Tyrrell, of course, said nothing to rouse her apprehensions; but he could not refrain, from time to time, from turning his eyes to the vessel that was following, and which he felt sure was gaining upon them in some degree. As the wind freshened every moment, however, and more sail was set, the schooner made greater and greater way through the water; but the motion of the vessel was greatly increased, and the captain advised the young lady to go below. Lucy assured him that she was very well; but he replied,
"You'll soon have to go down, ma'am, however; for I think it'll rain before night--ay, and very soon, too."
The captain's words were prophetic, for ere half an hour more was over it did begin to rain, blowing at the same time very hard, so that the spray was dashed over the whole deck, and rendered it no longer a pleasant station for a lady.
As it now wanted not long to night, Lucy agreed to go down into the cabin, though the heat below was oppressive, and she felt a greater degree of confidence and security, when she saw what was passing around her. She gave way to no weak fears, however, though the novelty of her situation, the extreme motion of the vessel, the gale that was beginning to blow hard upon shore, and various other circumstances which she might have remarked, might well have afforded cause for apprehension, to a person by nature less timid than herself. But Lucy had, as we have said, much command over her own mind; and though her imagination was quick, she would not suffer it to dwell upon any circumstances that might unnerve her; but, both for the sake of Charles Tyrrell and herself, would give way to nothing but hope, unless it were that more confident trust in Providence, which never abandoned her.
After remaining with her some time in the cabin, which was rendered less pleasant, or rather more unpleasant than it otherwise would have been, by the piteous sighings and groanings of the maid, Charles Tyrrell, went again upon deck, to see how everything was going on. He found both Hailes and the master looking somewhat anxious, and, on questioning the former more closely, he found that the vessel, which was still distinctly to be seen following, was ascertained to be the revenue-cutter, and that she was decidedly in chase of them. The wind had shifted a little, and blew stronger than ever, and though we cannot describe the manœuvre which the king's ship was performing, in the proper nautical language, yet we can tell the impression which Hailes's account produced upon the mind of Charles Tyrrell, and which was, that the cutter, by some peculiar quality in her sailing, was trying to get out farther to sea than the schooner, and to keep her nearer the land with a lee shore and a strong wind.
Hailes, however, rubbed his hands, when he concluded his account, saying,
"We'll beat them yet; for you see this schooner will go through what they can't go through, for the life of them."
Charles Tyrrell, however, went down to Lucy with a heavy heart. He saw that there were evidently greater danger and discomforts awaiting his course than he had anticipated, and he blamed himself severely for having persuaded Lucy to take a share in such a fate as that which seemed likely to befall him.
It was now beginning to turn dark, the ship keeling fearfully, with the press of canvass, and the strength of the wind, and it was impossible for Lucy to conceal from herself that it was blowing a gale, that they were going with the most tremendous rapidity, and that there was a terrible sea running.
Charles endeavoured to amuse her as much as he could, and talked upon every subject that he thought would interest her, speaking with hope and expectation of the morrow, and pointing tenderly, and yet ardently, to the time when she should become his own, and the happiness of each, be linked for ever, with that of the other. Of course this was the subject of all others, the most likely to interest them both; but still he could not help seeing that sometimes when a sharp sea struck the ship, and made every timber in the whole frame thereof quiver, Lucy fixed an anxious gaze upon his face, as if she would fain have inquired, Is there any danger? At length, toward nine o'clock, he said, "Well, dear Lucy, I will go up and see how we are going on. It is a very rough night for so young a sailor as you are; but do not be alarmed, my beloved; I feel confident that we shall get through it all."
On arriving upon the deck, Charles found the night, indeed, tremendous. It was raining hard, the wind was coming in sharp, heavy gusts, the shore was seen distinctly, within no very great distance of the ship, and the schooner itself was bounding on through the waters, like some terrified bird cutting through the air in full flight. The night was not so dark as might have been expected, however; for the full moon, though hidden by the clouds, still gave some degree of light, and Charles Tyrrell, looking out for the vessel, which he had seen in chase of them, thought he could distinguish it farther out to sea, than that which bore him; but much nearer than it had appeared before.
He had scarcely been five minutes upon deck, however, when he was confirmed in the supposition, by a bright flash seen in that direction, followed by the heavy roar of a cannon, mingling with the sobbing of the wind.
"Ay, fire away," said Hailes, "fire away. We'll see you at the bottom first. This is an awkward job, Mr. Tyrrell," he said, "a devilish awkward job."
"It's a terrible night, indeed," replied Charles Tyrrell; "but do you think there is any immediate danger of the ship?"
"Oh, it's not the night at all," replied Hailes. "It's bad enough, to be sure; but I've gone through twenty worse nights than this; but it is that cursed cutter. You see all we could do, she's got the better of us. If we can get round the nose, you see, and across the bay, without getting aground on the spit, we shall do well enough, and send her to the devil. But the wind's blowing dead ashore. She can go far nearer to the wind than we can, and I doubt very much whether she won't drive us into the bay; and there, you know, she has us safe."
"And what is to be done then?" demanded Charles Tyrrell.
"Why, that is what I don't know, sir," replied Hailes; "but I think you had better come and speak to the Captain, and ask him. He's at the wheel."
Charles Tyrrell accordingly walked up with Hailes, and put his question as briefly as possible; for he saw that all the master's energies were at work, and required also in the steering of the ship.
"What is to be done, Captain!" he said.
"Why, upon my soul, sir," replied the captain, "I don't know. I've done my best for you, and no man can do more. I've risked the ship in a way she was never risked before. If we get round the nose, I am afraid it is all that we can possibly do. Unless the wind changes within ten minutes, I see no chance whatever of getting across the bay. Give me two points to the eastward, and I will do it, if all the cutters in the world were to try to stop me; but with the wind where it now is, the thing's next to impossible."
"But if you are driven into the bay," said Charles Tyrrell, "let me know what----"
"The only thing for you to do, sir," said the captain, "will be, to get into the boat with the lady and Hailes, land as fast as possible, and get across the headland to the little town of Wrexton, as early as possible to-morrow morning. I will lie to in the bay all night. The next morning the cutter'll send her boats aboard, and make a search, but your being out of the ship, I don't care, for I've got no cargo; and then, as soon, as that is over, and she's sailed, I'll come round, and lay to off Wrexton for you."
"Then do you think," said Charles Tyrrell, "that the ship is in pursuit of me?"
"To be sure, sir--to be sure," replied the captain. "The smuggling is the thing they'll talk about, but it's you they're after; for they know very well I've no cargo. Mayhap, indeed, they think Captain Longly's on board, knowing that he's a part owner, and looking after him very sharp, I understand just now."
"Breakers ahead! breakers ahead!" cried a loud voice from the bow of the vessel, and the captain slightly depressed the wheel.
"I'll talk to you in a minute, sir," he said, and Charles Tyrrell, looking forward, saw indeed that it was a moment, when the whole attention of the man at the helm was required, to steer the vessel in safety. Right before the ship was a long ridge of white foam, stretching out far into the sea, while on the leeward bow there was indeed a space where no such formidable appearance presented itself; but then, at a distance, so short that it appeared scarcely a hundred yards from the schooner, rose, in the shape of a promontory, a pile of gigantic, black cliffs to the northwest, against which the waves were dashing with fearful violence, and sending up the foam in white flashes over the dark, awful face of the rock. The wind was still blowing a gale from the south, and the ship heeling so, that even the sailors could not keep their feet, without holding; the deck of the vessel was literally under water, as she cut through, rather than rose over the waves, and straight on upon the breakers the captain seemed to be directing their course.
Not a word was now spoken by any one, and it was an awful moment, till at length, the loud voice of the captain shouted forth, "Now stand to your tackle!"
The roaring of the breakers a-head, and the dashing of the waves upon the cliffs to the south, was distinctly heard above the howling of the wind; but as the captain spoke, by a rapid movement of his hands upon the wheel, the course of the vessel was altered, her head brought round more to the rock, and shooting through the deep water, like an arrow from a bow, she left the breakers to windward, and neared the point of the promontory.
There was another anxious pause, as she cut her way, on coming nearer and nearer to the rock; but the captain's eye was fixed upon it, and rushing on with awful rapidity, she passed at what seemed less than half a cable's length; and to the relief of all who watched, the line of coast on the other side of the promontory was seen running off to the northeast, in the form of a deep and sheltered bay.
"There," said the captain, when the point was rounded--"there! there is not a vessel on this coast would have done that but the Hannah. Here Tom, take the helm!" and without resuming his conversation with Charles Tyrrell, he took a night-glass and looked out to windward after the cutter.
"Well, it is wonderful!" he said at length, "I can't think it natural to see anything going almost right in the teeth of the wind. But I can tell that fellow what--if he have not got the devil on board, he'll be upon the hog's back before an hour's over. Howsoever, sir," he continued, turning to his passenger, "there is no time to be lost for you. As soon as we get a little under the lee of the land, I'll have the boat out, to take you, and Hailes, and the lady, ashore. Get away across the country as quickly as you can, to Wrexton. There you'll find a little bit of an inn, where you can stay till I send the boat for you again. Better go down and tell her, for five minutes will bring us into smooth water; and if that fellow clears the hog's back, which I don't think he will, he'll be overhauling us as soon as he gets into the bay."
Charles Tyrrell needed no second bidding, but hurried down, to prepare Lucy for this new change. He found her pale and agitated, but still firm, and ready to follow at once any wish that he might express. While left alone in solitude to her own thoughts, everything around her had, indeed, appeared terrific; the rushing and dashing of the waves against the side of the ship, the excessive heeling of the vessel, the frequent strokes of the waves, which seemed as if they would have rent her from stem to stern, the howling of the wind, the rattling of the cordage, had all been heard, as she sat and listened, and had filled her mind with apprehensions of the darkest character.
All this reconciled her, however, wonderfully to the idea of landing again so speedily. Already the water was smoother, and the wind less felt, and she hurried the few preparations that were necessary, desiring the maid to rise and accompany her, which she doubted not that she would do with the greatest alacrity and willingness. The woman, however, showed, not the slightest inclination to stir. Overpowered with sea-sickness, the most selfish of all maladies, she said she could not rise, and she would not; and if she were to die, that she would rather lie and die where she was, than go in a little boat, at that time of night and be drowned.
There was no time to argue with her, for the sound of lowering the boat was already heard, and Charles supported Lucy up to the deck, while Hailes loaded himself with those things which were absolutely necessary to her comfort.
When they arrived upon the deck of the ship, the whole scene was comparatively tranquil--sheltered from the force of the winds, by the high lands, forming one side of the bay, which we have beforementioned, the schooner was running along rapidly, indeed, but easily, the sea was much calmer, and the rain had ceased. It was oppressively warm, and the clouds, rolling together in large masses, seemed to portend a thunder-storm, but still they occasionally broke away, and afforded from time to time a glimpse of the moon, setting large and dark coloured, on the western verge of the horizon.
Few words were spoken by any party, and, as the boat was by this time alongside, Charles Tyrrell led Lucy toward it, and with the aid of Hailes, and the captain, placed her safely in it without much difficulty; though the sea would have looked terrific to any eyes, which had not immediately before contemplated that which was running on the outside of the bay.
She was scarcely seated, and agitated a good deal by the darkness, the pitching of the boat, and all the appalling circumstances around her when the sudden sound of a cannon came booming over the water. Lucy stared, and turned to Charles Tyrrell, as if for explanation.
"We are just in time, my beloved," he said, "that is I suppose a shot to bring the schooner to;" but ere the men in the boat had rowed a hundred yards, a second gun was heard, and then another shortly after, and Hailes was heard to mutter to himself,
"That's the cutter upon the hog's back, or I never heard minute-guns before--serves them right--serves them right. They wanted to run us ashore, and now they've got ashore themselves."
Charles Tyrrell made no observation, for he could not but feel pain and anxiety at the thought of the king's vessel, and all that it contained, having struck upon the awful reef which they had passed so closely. He knew, too, that Lucy would feel the same, and he therefore refrained from explaining the probable cause of the sounds that they heard, which were repeated from minute to minute, as the boat rowed on toward the shore.
Every stroke of the oars, however, as the boat entered a little bay within the larger one, brought them into smoother water, and at length, when they were a few oars length off the shore, no one would have known that a storm was raging over the open sea, had it not been for the rapid moving of the clouds, chequered dimly with light and darkness in the sky over head, and the sharp whistling of the wind, which made itself heard above the cliffs.
Their landing was, therefore, effected with ease and safety, and Lucy could not help acknowledging to her own heart, that she was relieved and rejoiced, even more than she had expected, on finding her foot once more upon the firm land.
"Now you know your way to Alcombe, Master Hailes," said one of the men in the boat, "you can't well miss it."
Hailes only replied by an "ay! ay!" and the boat pushed off again as fast as possible toward the ship.